The Seraph's Broken Wings
By: Sinead

Chapter Seven

John-117 looked over the way the teams were broken up, seeing the Sangheili influence. Looking at the Spartan-IVs, he barked, "Into teams!"

They moved in a co-ordinated, expressionless way, settling into teams of three humans and three Elites each, all saluting. "Black Team, sound off!"

"Black-One, Phaedra-497."

"Black-Two, Yukae."

"Black-Three, Pandora-498."

"Black-Four, Sibilee."

"Black-Five, Orion-499."

"Black-Six, Boratamee."

John nodded, and those six snapped their arms to their sides. He looked at the group for a moment longer. If he was judging this correctly, they were mixing this up so that the Prophets would mis-judge who was to be who. Calling the commanding team Black instead of Gold was a good idea. They'd be able to sneak from point to point with minimal visual detection. Next was the second-in-command team: Blue, followed by Gold, then Red, White, and Green. After that came Violet, Silver, and finally a team that would fill in where needed, generally for under-the-table missions, which was simply called Liquid.

Over the next two months, Liquid Team proved to be the silent ones, the ones that the Covenant learned to fear. They were the real Demons that would kill and not regret, moving from one target to another with fluid ease. They were the assassins.

But they took second place to Black Team.

The Marines and the Navy Corps called the faceless Black Team "death," "Black Plague," and other such names. They didn't know that Black Team were the youngsters that jostled and joked with them in line at mess hall, who pranked them and laughed with them. They were the ones that challenged and trained them in the gym, and then helped them up when they were too sore to move after some rough and rowdy sessions.

It was then that John knew they were ready for a mission that had been long overdue in deploying. After nearly a year, it was time to bring Willow and the Arbiter home.

After pretending to be broken, Willow was left alone. Arbiter did the same, and soon whenever a Brute looked at them, they shivered, shifting slightly. Finally, the Brutes stopped toying with them, leaving them alone for over four consecutive months, remembering only to feed them and change their bathing water. That was how the time passed until the fateful day when Perdition came back from a long campaign. He looked in upon them. "You have fooled my Brutes, but you will not fool me. No, I think you'll be broken for good this time."

Willow swallowed, her hand gripping Arbiter's.

Then the point of an energy knife protruded from the Brute's throat, while the double-points of an energy sword emerged from the ape's stomach, twisting and ripping to one side, severing the spinal column to the left, while the knife ripped to the right, ensuring the death by breaking Perdition's neck.

As the Brute fell, all the human and the Elite saw were shadows watching them.

"We're finally out from being babysat."

"Sib, if you've been calling those last three assassination missions 'babysitting,' you're losing your marbles."

"Ah, leave it, Orion, you know he's being foolish again."

"Phae, don't tell me to leave it. I'm bored. We've been in this metal piece of junk for weeks. And I hate the cryo tube. It smells like my old gym bag if I left it alone for three weeks. How old is this thing, anyway?"

"Like I would know? I'm just glad that we have . . . wait. What's the AI's name again?"

"Very funny," said Artificial Intelligence quipped. "Your father will remember it."

"Yeah, yeah, Cortana, don't short out on us," Orion replied, grinning and looking his black-colored helmet over again, wincing at a new scratch. "She was kidding."

Her lithe form appeared on the holo tank, and she smiled, "I'm telling you, though, just over twenty years of hibernation makes you feel young again."

"Ugh, here we go again," Boratamee groaned, clipping the final parts of his black armor on.

Cortana sniffed at him, disappearing from the cryo-room's holo tank with the fizzle of visual static. Phaedra chuckled, holding her helmet in one hand while she left to go up to the bridge with Yukae. Once there, they saw Leader powering down everything unnecessary before they returned to normal space. And before them they saw the new Covenant capital, Abundant Grace . They rode in dark, and Leader plugged in their secondary AI, yanking Cortana out and handing her in crystal form to Phaedra, who snapped her helmet on and sealed her suit before plugging the older AI into the back of the black helmet.

She and Yukae turned and left.

The smaller ship landed in the unused bay, and they filed out in silence, activating their active camo as they did so, leaving a nav-marker upon the ship so they would find their way back. Boratamee took point, whispering, "Black-Leader, contact ahead."

"How many?"

"Three Jackals, a Brute, seven Drones."

"Hn," Yukae grunted.

"Method, Black-Lead?"

Phaedra silently moved to one side of the hallway. "Do what you do best. Black-Three, snipe the ones he misses. Black-Six, when you throw those things, try to get two on the Brute."

"Ma'am."

With practiced stealth, four plasma grenades were lit, two by Boratamee, two by Orion. They threw them as quickly as they could, and the requested two grenades did indeed land upon the Brute, while Orion purposefully over-shot his aim on the second one, cutting off a retreat, and Boratamee threw one short, pinning them. Four quick explosions and the bark of two silenced sniper-shots resulted in the complete death of small squad.

Following Cortana's instructions, they moved on, killing everything in their path, reaching the first level of cells and searching each and every one carefully. Upon the third level, they found remains of humans in some cells, Elites in another. Each time, they scanned for DNA, taking and storing everything. Grunt bones littered the floors, and eight massive Hunter carcasses were picked clean by Jackals. Hearing a Brute voice saying something smugly, they moved up to the final level, creeping along. Just as the Brute was about to enter the cell, Pandora ignited an energy sword while Yukae drew her small dagger and imbedded it in the back of the Brute's neck, feeling it exit the other side of the reeking thing's throat. Pandora shoved the sword through the thick torso, the points vertical, then twisted them horizontal and with all her strength ripped it free to her right, while Yukae's left hand drew the dagger savagely in that direction. The lifeless body tumbled, and all six looked in to see the human woman and the Elite male trying to visually pull their forms out of the shadows.

Phaedra disengaged her active camo and the rest of her team followed suit. The three humans removed their helmets and walked into the cell, wrapping blankets around their mother while the Elite twins helped their father, Boratamee keeping guard outside the cell door.

Willow touched her son's face, then rested her hands upon her daughters' cheeks, tears falling. She found a scar on one of their chins, an old one, one that she remembered tending to. "Pandora." Looking at the other face, she tugged it to her blanketed shoulder, whispering, "My baby Phaedra. You're back."

Careful not to hurt her, Phaedra held her mother, sighing before hearing a warning click of Boratamee's mandibles. Standing, snapping the helmet on again, she looked at the others, who were now helping the Elite and human back up. "Black team, move out."

It was almost over.

"Blast it!"

"Leader, we can't shake them!" Orion roared from his post.

"I know that!" he growled. "They'll follow us through Slipstream!"

Pandora made some quick calculations, then ran them by Yukae, who said, "Actually, we might be able to lose them."

"Oh?"

"They can't predict where we will end up. Several short jumps in and out, all done by AI, and we might lose them."

"Several?" He grunted, pulling a complicated evasive maneuver. "That'll put a strain on anyone without a suit."

Phaedra stood. "I'll get them into cryo tubes. Get ready." Moving swiftly, she walked into the small room that her mother and the Elite she had married were in, getting their wounds treated by Pandora and Sibilee. All four looked up, and Phaedra sighed. "We have to make about seven to eight short Slipstream jumps to shake them."

Willow looked at her daughter's face, so like her own, so like her identical twin's, and so like their father's, then nodded, seeing worry. "All right. Being frozen for that doesn't really sound all that bad."

She still held onto Arbiter's hand, however, and looked from one twin sister to the other. "You're both so alike, and so different."

"We have a lot to explain to you," Pandora whispered. "But is has to wait. Getting you home safe is the first thing on our lists. And if we fail . . ."

She didn't need to finish her sentence to get her point of urgency across.

At the third jump, a human ship awaited them. They linked up quickly, everyone moving over quickly before the Covenant could find them again. Cortana was handed off to the Captain, who ran up to the bridge to plug her in. She would be controlling the smaller shuttle as a decoy, putting it back into Slipspace with a destination solution that would land it near a Covenant patrol-route.

The Spartans and Elites hurried the newly-rescued couple into the sickbay, where John and Miranda were having a whispered argument. Willow ran to John, interrupting him. Laughing, he picked her up in an embrace, kissing her cheeks, then embracing her again before setting her upon one of the beds, draping another blanket around her uniformed shoulders. And he turned to see the Arbiter Torilian, who reached over to grip his hand. But Arbiter didn't expect the Master Chief to use that hand to pull him into a fierce embrace between reunited brothers.

They were home.

Phaedra and Pandora were sparring with knives, moving quickly.

Neither noticed their mother walk in and watch as John Orion whirled in, taking Phaedra's place, nudging her over towards the door, his methods and knife-fighting different, slower, than his sisters'. Pandora slowed herself down considerably so she could help him back up to where he should be in sparring, knowing full well why he had taken Phaedra's place.

It was time for Willow and the daughter that John had raised to talk.

The Spartan-II walked into the room as well, his voice commanding, but kind. "Enough."

The two siblings stopped their dueling, looking at the older man. Orion blinked once, noting that it was only them. No Elites, no adoptive parents, nothing. And then Willow sat on a crate. "What do you need to know?"

Pandora blinked, looking from one face to the other. These were her parents. These were the people that had given her life.

Orion swallowed, knowing that it wasn't going to be pretty. The questions wouldn't be easy ones.

"Why didn't you raise all three of us up together?" Phaedra asked.

Willow sighed. "Baby, I would have. I wanted to. But things weren't what they were supposed to be."

"You and Dad had a relationship, though!"

"Phae," Pandora said softly, catching her attention. "Mom is married. She had married right before Arbiter was sent out on that doomed ONI mission."

"But–"

"Little one, they wanted us separated," John said in that hushed voice that Phaedra had learned meant that he hurt inside, using the words that he had called her as when she was an infant. "They didn't want us to be around each other. I wanted to be around your siblings . . . my other daughter and son, but they didn't want that. They didn't want me to have any hand in even helping to raise three wonderful triplets." He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. "They didn't want me to even raise you, but they had no say in it once Arbiter refused to sign the adoption paper."

"Why didn't you fight Mom, then? Told her that you wanted all three of us together, or not at all?"

Orion rested his hand upon Phaedra's shoulder. "You heard him when he told us the truth about what happened before we were born. He wanted a family. He wanted children. He got us."

"And Arbiter came back," Willow added softly, "with Yukae and Sibilee."

"So you couldn't handle all three of us, you're saying," Phaedra accused.

John saw how that had hurt Willow, but Pandora snorted, her voice harsh and angry. "Never accuse Mom of not being able to handle things. You have no idea, still, do you?" She shook her head. "Mom wanted to give . . . to give Dad what he wanted. Think about what we had gone through with the Spartan program! He went through worse! Everything was taken from him. Everything. And then, imagine if you will, say you're in his shoes. And you find out that you're expecting a child. Better yet, three." The blue eyes narrowed. "And then someone says that you can't have them anymore. You've prepared yourself, you've set up funds and everything else possible that you might need with raising these three . . . and suddenly . . . no more. You can't have them. They're taken from you." She shook her head. "Frankly, I'm shocked that he didn't kick up a stink about that."

"Your mother and Arbiter have a famed relationship," John said softly. "If I interfered with that, then . . . well . . ." A sigh escaped him. "Many Elites who heard of what had gone on between Willow and myself went to Leader, who they answer to in that region, and asked special permission to protect the Claim that Arbiter has on Willow. He denied them, saying that Arbiter will decide what will happen upon his return." The man leaned against the wall, gathering his thoughts. "And I was lucky that Arbiter didn't need me dead. Very lucky."

"But that doesn't mean–"

"Phaedra," his voice came sharply, "enough." Dark blue eyes glared at her, but he was cut off from his reprimand by the mother.

"So she's angry. I can understand that, John, and don't you try to suppress it. She's got a healthy Irish temper that was passed down from both of us." She chuckled at his face, knowing that it was true, before saying, "You don't know what Claim is, little darling. You don't know how it works." She pulled her sweater off to reveal scars on her shoulders, and tattoos on both arms. On her left arm, five small names were surrounded by a two pair of hands, one human, the other Sangheili. On her right was the tattoo that now all five children sported.

Pandora had seen the left shoulder . . . but the right . . . "Mum, wasn't it only on your left shoulder?"

"Your father told me that at the twenty-five anniversary, the vows are renewed." She smiled. "Here, Phaedra, let me explain these." She crossed her arms over her chest. "It's the Sangheili version of marriage, in a sense." Her hand brushed over her left shoulder. "I had been a POW for a mission, actually allowing myself to be taken while I gathered information for the UNSC. I was tortured, raped, you name it, and never seen again, so people thought that they never took prisoners for the longest time." She smiled, leaning slightly back, balancing easily. "Now, at the same time, some poor Elite scumbag was being deemed a heretic for his 'inability to safeguard Halo.' He was sent to my cell, to share space with me, a human, as part of his punishment. Tartarus was alive all those years ago, and he oversaw both my and his torture. At one point, he had the Sangheili rape me, which was to be utterly demeaning for him, and for me it was just another level of torture. And for said Elite, it would have been, had I not tried to fight him about it earlier on. Tartarus had to ensure that other torture routines were proceeding nicely, and this Elite told me that I would be passed along to be raped by other Elites. And I knew that I would, which was starting to settle me into a pre-depression, almost."

Neither Pandora nor John Orion had ever heard how their parents had met. Phaedra was listening, her face showing her shock.

"Once Tartarus had left, he pulled me back from wherever–"

"Huh?" Phaedra asked.

"Ah." Willow sighed. "I had married another man before I had gone into the military, then served beside him in the Navy Corps. His name was Akira Takayuurei. He had been KIA a few years before I had met Dragon. That's were the Takayuurei part of my name came from. He taught me about the ancient culture he had been descended from, the Japanese; I told him about mine, the Celts. He taught me a trick that some of the ancient samurai, or ancient Japanese warriors, had done while either injured or weary and still in circumstances that they had to either keep moving in or endure. It was a type of training that helped them send their mind elsewhere while at the same time understanding what was going on around them, but not reacting or doing anything to react."

"Like meditation."

"Not essentially, but close enough. I never cleared my mind of thoughts." She shrugged. "Anyway, when he got my attention again–"

"How?"

John knew that Phaedra was trying to needle Willow into losing her cool by the consistent interruptions, but the older woman was smarter than that. "Oh, he stopped moving and called me 'human' enough times to make you retch. So he said that there was an old system called Claim that prevented humans to be raped by numerous Elites over and over again. And since my primary arm for sword-fighting was my right, he bit my left shoulder."

"He bit you!"

Willow gave her daughter a look. "I never said that it was supposed to be civilized, now, did I? This was from Covenant prehistory, when the Sangheili were still their own culture and didn't even know about the Prophets. Claim is the archaic way that says that whoever did the Claim, always a male, since it's that kind of society, believes that the mate of their choice is their equal or higher in every way. The Claimed goes where the Elite goes and does what they do, sometimes even past their death. Brutes always thought that Claim meant crap, basically, and in torture situations when a Prophet wasn't around, they always violated the Claim. If it was known that a Brute violated a Claim, they were killed in a way that made what I had gone through look and feel like a massage."

"Pleasant," John grumbled. "That's why you never told me the consequences, eh?" Willow smiled sweetly to John, and he chuckled, shaking his head. "Nevermind, Willow, nevermind."

"So why are there two? And why are both fresh?" Phaedra asked.

"This left one was created twenty-five years ago, on the day we met. It's how he saved me from being given to another Elite. Even a Brute wouldn't be so stupid as to have another Elite interfere with a Claim. On the exact day of our twenty-fifth anniversary, he reopened it, symbolizing the first day, the first blood he spilled. Then he did the same to my right shoulder, as a symbol that he would love me until the end, whatever end that may be. It's almost like a renewal of the marriage vows." She shrugged. "Frankly, they're the only scars I'm proud of, and will always be proud of."

Phaedra shook her head. "But you and Dad . . ."

John sighed and walked over to his daughter, resting his hands upon her shoulders and getting her attention. "Phae, I knew that if Arbiter returned, Willow was his. I knew that I shouldn't have ever been with her in the first place. Forbidden territory. But . . . things happened the way they did."

"Why couldn't you have stayed?"

"Direct order, a direct assignment to the Boston area." He shook his head. "I can't disobey. A dishonorable discharge isn't something I would want before I retire."

"But . . ."

"Things happened the way they did for a reason, Phaedra. Listen to me, if nobody else. They happened they way they did for a reason. Why? I don't know. But that's how it is."

Hot tears splashed down Phaedra's face, and Willow stood to embrace her eldest. "I've always loved you, Phaedra. I called your father weekly to see how you were doing. He called me whenever he needed advice, ever since you were two days old. I remember. I wish I could have been there for every birthday, every holiday . . . every single day I've missed you."

Pandora and Orion looked to their father, who shrugged, and they walked over so that one each leaned against a side. They had come to terms long ago with what was their situation. Orion was the first to understand, and he helped Pandora, who also went and spent time with her father. They had long talks at night, sometimes, about things that had been, and about things that hadn't been. They had this kind of talk almost six months ago, and her tears had been spent upon her father's shoulder for the first time in almost nineteen years. And so she understood how Phaedra needed the time and inclination to cry upon her mother's shoulder.

Willow smiled, saying, "John told me once how you had found a stack of presents about seven years ago, hidden up in the attic."

"Y-yeah?" came the hiccuping reply.

"And these two knew not to touch a certain pile of presents that I had accumulated over the years in a certain second master-bedroom closet, meant specifically for a certain little someone who was missing out on some serious fun with tumbling around with Elites of her same age."

Phaedra looked up at her mother. "What?"

"I have many gifts I've been itching to give you. And I can't wait to see your face when you open them."

"But . . ."

"I'm a mother, humor me!" she laughed. "Come on, then. There aren't any missions for the next few weeks, as far as we're concerned. The 'Threes can handle anything that's thrown at them for a while." Her smile was warm as she wiped her daughter's tears. "You'll be living with whoever you want to at this point. Your father and your adopted mother will be moving back into the Spartan-Sangheili Complex, if they haven't already, and your brother will soon be boarding at the second campus, which will be within walking distance of his college. He's changed his major to Alien Relations and Counseling, and since he's the only one in that major, he's getting special tutoring from Leader."

"'Only one in that major,' Willow? Hah! Leader started that new major just for him, since he knew what Aidon was going to ask to do!" John replied. "That second son of mine would have proposed that it become a new major!"

"Well, he's Miranda's son, what are you expecting from him! John Spaldin, you annoy me!"

The door slid open, and Arbiter blinked. "Oh. Ah. Didn't mean to interrupt, but . . ."

Something was up. Willow sighed. "Oh, what now? You only use that tone when you're about to say something serious."

"Boratamee . . ."

"Yes . . . ?" Willow asked.

"And Yukae . . ."

"Yes . . . ?" John chorused with Willow.

"Well . . . they've Claimed each other."

"WHAT! WHEN!" Willow screeched, staring at her husband in sheer incredulity.

"Last night."

"So that's where she had been!" Orion exclaimed as Pandora was laughing too hard to do or say anything.

Phaedra blinked. "So . . . this is something new, then?"

"Dual Claim?" Willow asked her in return.

"Not essentially," Arbiter replied. "Unusual, possibly, as it's generally been a male Claiming a female, and . . . not at the same time."

Willow shook her head. "Gre-eat. So where's that brat of yours?"

"In our quarters." He snickered. "And most likely about ready to crack since I took my time coming to tell you. And I suggest that we take our time returning."

"You want to grieve her because neither of them came to you."

"Exactly." The Sangheili looked to Phaedra, who was still holding onto her mother. And smiled. "Now for you. You've grown as beautiful as your mother, just as wise and ferocious, and by the Rings, I am glad to see you with your siblings again."

The young leader burst into tears again, causing Willow to chuckle and wrap her arms around her eldest. John shooed the other two of the three off, until it was only him, Arbiter, Willow, and his daughter in the room. He heard Phaedra's voice, cracking and thick with tears and emotion. "I want to hate him. I want to really hate him."

Arbiter rested his fingers lightly upon her shoulder. "Tell me why you want me dead, little daughter of my wife and my brother."

More tears. Then, "Because Dad and Mom can't be together."

"But your father is already married to another woman. One whom he loves, and is loved by," Arbiter replied, his hand now going through the red hair, knowing that the motion calmed Pandora, and that it showed that he didn't want her to hate him. "Your brother, Aidon, has known John as his father since he could remember. Would you take that from him?"

Phaedra shook her head.

"Would you take your father's happiness away?"

The young woman looked up at the Elite, saw his gaze tenderly upon her. "What?"

"Your father is happy with where he is. He's happy with you and your siblings just as you are. He's happy with his wife."

"How do you know?" Phaedra asked brokenly.

She felt another set of hands, her father's upon her shoulders, and then felt as he pulled both her and her mother into an embrace, kissing the paling skin of his daughter. "Because, little one, I told him. He trusts me, just as I trust him."

"But . . . Daddie . . ."

"Shh, now. I know you're still not content with the way things are, but remember something, little love."

"Y-yeah?"

"No matter how things work will out, no matter how they worked out in the past . . . I'll always love you, your brother and sister, and I'll always be there for you. And for your mother and her walking, talking target of a husband."

"You're pushing it, Demon," Torilian said in a mock-growl.

"Uh-huh. And what are you planning to do about it?"

Smirking, the Elite swiftly picked his wife up and out of the embrace to put her over one shoulder, then wrangled Phaedra into the same sort of position on his other shoulder before picking John up and walking with all three out into the hall, hearing his wife's laughter mingling with Phaedra's. Pandora and John Orion blinked in sheer dumbfounded amazement as they watched the spectacle pass them and towards Willow and the Arbiter's temporary room.

Maybe things would be looking up from here.