V

The pungent smell of cigarette smoke was prevalent in the large, cleared out office. It wasn't much to look out, just chairs and tables pushed into the corners to give way to a few HD monitors, a tactical map of the moon and the surrounding system. A poor man's command center. Smoking usually went against every known regulation enforced by the UNSC, but they weren't around to enforce anything. No traditional rules existed anymore. No strict protocols, no absurd regulations, no hierarchy to answer to when foul-ups happened. All such matters were handled within the camp, no outside influence coercing a decision. And strangely enough, that's the way Rey Anderton preferred it.

The UNSC Army Captain leaned his hip against one of the discarded desks of hard, antique oak, just barely making out the colossal gas giant through the thick haze. It was something hypnotic about the ringed planet that had a calming effect on him. And nowadays, remaining calm was something of a farfetched emotion within a mythical realm that was just out of reach. He took a quick drag from the lit cigarette between his thumb and index finger, blinking away the smoke that curled back into his eyes.

"Captain Anderton."

Out of mere instinct, Rey's head jerked in the direction of the voice. A cube object descended beside him, its face nothing more than a screen with streaming data. It was gunmetal grey and about the size of a Rubik's cube with a dozen micro propulsion units across its body that glowed blue when used. "Yes, DEV."

"Jacen Pearce and Naomi Diaz have returned from the Unggoy settlement. They're on their way now," DEV reported.

Rey vented smoke from his nostrils; he didn't realize he was holding his breath. They'd made it back alive. Good. He wet his lips. "Thank you."

"Of course." DEV flew a few feet away before whirling back around back to Rey's side. "I can recommend an alternative. Vapor, perhaps?" A miniscule metal arm unfolded from the cube's body with grippers on the end and gestured to the cigarette in Rey's mouth. "I can dispose of it, if you like."

Rey jerked his head back, waving his hand at the cube as if it was an irritating house fly. The A.I. had been pestering him for weeks to quit. It was a nasty habit, he admitted; and he was positive it was going to kill him one day. But he simply enjoyed the fragrance, the taste. The brand had a certain sweet flavor to it, which gave the nicotine a pleasurable feel in the mouth. Sure, his lungs were being slowly torched, but smoking wasn't necessarily a death sentence like it was in the 21st century. New additives and chemicals were infused with the nicotine, prolonging the inevitable and cutting smoke-related diseases by 25%. "A safer cigarette," the tobacco companies called it. He didn't care; kill him or not, it was his vice.

"Save it, DEV."

DEV retracted his arm, flashing a sad face emoticon on the screen. "Good health leads to success, and we need success."

Rey pursed his lips. "Good health isn't synonymous with success. I guess you never heard of Stephen Hawking, genius."

"Are you insulting my intelligence due to my limited memory processing matrix, or in the sense of my intelligence? Because I can assure you, compared to human intelligence—"

"I got it, DEV," Rey severed.

He was beginning to regret allowing the techs to give the A.I. a physical form to move around in. It only made him more unbearable, and if he was a 'Smart' A.I., he would've been long deactivated from rampancy. But in hindsight, however, they would've been long dead without him. His vast knowledge of the moon, the facility, and various protocols were too invaluable to neglect. Putting up with his attitude was a sad consequence.

The doors, then, opened to the office and Jacen and Naomi came walking—hobbling—through. Their appearance gave Rey pause to respond. They were chewed up, skin blotched with fresh bruises, cuts, and mild swelling. How they were still standing was beyond him, which immediately registered to him that the initial strategy of stealth hadn't succeeded. A dozen questions came to his mind, but he held them down until the proper time. A simple debriefing would have to suffice for now.

Rey finished off his cigarette, putting it out in the receptacle of ashes and derelict butts. "You made it back." He turned around, leaning against the table with his arms crossed, eyes switching targets between the two of them. "So… what did we learn about our enemy?"

Jacen was half-surprised at the initial question. He was expecting a lecture of what the meaning of stealth meant, as was the raid was based on. But he figured Rey had known them long enough to spot the obvious and choose not to bring it to light. There wasn't a doubt in his mind, though, that Rey wasn't going to let it slide.

He removed weighty pack from his shoulder and set it down on a nearby table. The smell of simmering coffee tickled his nose, opted to ignore it. He coughed with his fist over his mouth, feeling his sternum ache from the blow the Grunt had delivered. "We know that they've learned from Aaron's group. They had lookouts, boosted defenses. Definitely more of them are armed now."

Rey seemed to ingest what was said, rocking his torso from side to side. "That's to be expected, considering…" He went over to the coffee pot, drawing a pair of foam cups from the stack beside it and pouring a humble measure inside. "What was their reaction when they spotted you?"

The question came out so routine, so calmly that he could've insulted them and they wouldn't have known it until it was too late to react. He went up to them and placed the warm cups in their hands before going to over stand on the opposite end of the table.

"One of them saw us," Naomi spoke. She took a lengthy sip, exhaling as the hot liquid coursed down her throat and through her body. "It was a youngster, probably didn't know what it was seeing. It turned to run. I shot it, hence our blown cover." She finished off the coffee and crumbled the cup in her gloves.

Jacen shifted his boots, gently moving the cup to whirl its contents. He knew that tone of Naomi's. It meant she wasn't going to apologize for what went down; it meant that if she could go back in time, she wouldn't change a thing. And maybe that was okay. They were all adults capable of making their own split-second decisions, whether advised or ill-advised.

Rey didn't seem to have a reaction to it. He simply moved on, grabbing Jacen's bag and pulling it over to him. "It was unlikely you'd make it out without being detected." He searched the bag's contents, grabbing the two plasma carbines by the barrels and setting them out in the light. They were in good condition, save for the low ammunition "Were you able to find any more weapons?"

"Yeah." Naomi unshouldered her own pack, dumping out seven plasma pistols that varied in battery life out on the table. They clanged against the metal, wobbling and spinning before coming to rest on their sides. "Coupled with what we've already recovered, we should have a decent armory now."

Rey inspected the pistols with mild interest, picking a few of them up for a closer look. A sliver of him always felt off about handling Covenant weaponry, like some sort of traitor to his species. But what would they rely upon once their own weapons ran out of ammunition to feed them? He wasn't going to sit around and find out, not with the Grunts out there with a possible agenda on their hands.

"How aggressively did the Grunts fight back once they knew you were there?"

Naomi believed it to be a silly question. What did he really expect their answer to be? That the Grunts weren't hostile, that they'd suddenly forgotten the war between the two of them just because they were both stranded together? Aggressive didn't seem like the right word to encompass the ordeal. The Grunts wanted blood. It wouldn't have surprised her if the Grunts had captured them, kept them alive, and tortured them. Their level of tenacity and rage couldn't be measured.

"They certainly wanted us dead." Jacen finally extracted a portion of his coffee, the heat stinging fresh cuts in his mouth from the self-inflicted bites he sustained. "They didn't hold back. Gave us everything they had just short of an all-out assault. They may be suffering from our same plight: lack of weapons. All of them weren't armed. If they were, I doubt we'd be standing here discussing this."

"Any chance they retaliate, come after us?" It was a question Rey didn't want to ask, mostly because it scared the hell out of him. He had first-hand knowledge of what an army of Grunts were capable of: a near unstoppable legion that beat you by numbers and not strategy. They wouldn't last long if that happened.

"Not likely," Jacen answered with a gentle shrug. "I wouldn't rule it out, though. We killed one of them, looked like it was a rank above the others. Maybe you know more."

Rey eyed Jacen, intrigued. "What'd it look like?"

Jacen gestured toward the cigarette pack bulging from Rey's right breast-pocket. "Silver armor, facial helmet, and a more… cylindrical tank on its back. Armored hunchback of Notre Titan, maybe."

Rey handed Jacen a single cigarette, chewing the side of his lower lip. He retrieved his nickel lighter, flipping the hinge up to light it. "You two just killed yourself a commanding officer in the Grunt world. I didn't encounter many in my service, maybe two. Tough little monsters."

Naomi cut her eyes at Jacen for a split-second before settling them on Rey with mild concern. "Is that good for us?"

She didn't how it could've been. The inner workings within the Covenant were completely unknown to her, but history was rout with examples of conflicts being ignited from high-ranking individuals being killed. Wasn't this the perfect motivation for the Grunts to mobilize against them? Maybe they should consider taking the fight to them, finishing them off before they strike first.

"It could be," Rey surmised. "Or maybe this'll provoke 'em. They know where we are, but so do we. We can only hope they're scrambling now, trying to rebuild. They won't be coming after us anytime soon." He looked at the two of them, resolute. There was no need to lose sleep over this. "Know that."

Jacen and Naomi said nothing in reply. They only nodded between themselves.

"Good." Rey knocked his knuckles once on the surface of the table. He rested his right hand atop his massive revolver hanging within its holster around his waist, picking at the imaginary crud underneath his fingernails. "What else did you find?"

Naomi scratched her sweaty scalp with an eye pinched close. "We know how they're thriving now." She waved the cigarette smoke from around her, taking a step away from Jacen. "They've created their own atmosphere inside. Perfect conditions for 'em. They're also breeding like crazy. We're outnumbered already."

Rey wasn't concerned about the breeding, not enough for it to garner his full attention. It didn't matter if their numbers were growing. They didn't have the support of the Covenant, their equipment, weapons, training, or direction. As far as he was concerned, the Grunts produced non-combative offspring that weren't a threat. But creating their own breathable atmosphere? That had certainly got his attention.

"There ain't no way in hot sauce hell they're smart enough to engineer their own atmosphere."

"That's what we thought, too," Jacen echoed. "Turns out they have this… thing helping them. We came across it after everything went sideways. I'm guessing it was responsible for creating the atmosphere." He stopped talking, realizing Rey hadn't averted his eyes since he'd started his explanation. It was a solid look of extreme interest, and Jacen could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He knew something. "D'you know what this thing is?"

Rey looked away, blinking rapidly. Cleared his throat. "Humor me. This thing… did it happen to resemble a snake with tentacles, having a hermit crab type of situation going on?"

Jacen and Naomi's eyes met. It was a crude description, but it fit nonetheless. Naomi nodded with a hunch in her shoulders. "That's about right."

Rey went into full shut-down mode. His eyes shifted from east to west, lips quivering with the absence of words. He walked away from the table, pinching his chin underneath his salt and pepper beard that was in need of a trim. Was it really possible, out here? A stroke of good fortune, if it worked out. The possibilities were endless, and the pros outweighed the cons considerably. But was it practical? It meant making some difficult decisions that the others wouldn't necessarily like.

Rey avoided putting the cart before the horse. It was best to take it slow, plan it out. "That's… that's good enough for now. Y'all did alright. I'll make sure the weapons get stowed. Get some food in you, get patched up, and all that. DEV and I need the room, please."

There was more to it; Jacen and Naomi were sure of that, but they left it alone. Rey wasn't one to keep secrets, at least secrets that put the group in danger. He'd tell them in his due time. They wouldn't push the issue. Whatever he and DEV would discuss would come to light sooner or later. Hopefully sooner, for their sake. They didn't risk their lives for nothing.

Without another word, the two of them turned and walked out, manually sliding the door shut that was once automated. The lock engaged almost instantaneously, probably under DEV's control. He seemed to be everywhere at once, constantly monitoring and working without anyone ever noticing half the time. But DEV's present and omnipresent circulation throughout the facility was far from the minds of Jacen and Naomi. Rey's reaction remained adhered to them. He knew what the alien was, they didn't. Perks of being on the frontlines against the Covenant, they supposed. If you could call that a perk.

They moved in silence down the sparsely populated halls, shoulder to shoulder. A few passersby regarded them with looks of concern, bewilderment, and mild disgust. They'd wiped away as much of a blood from their faces and extremities, leaving behind unsettling smudges that were reminiscent of wet war paint. It wasn't like everyone else looked any better, but with there being so few fighters left, proper rotation was the first luxury to go.

Naomi's stomach growled between the thuds of their boots. "I hope Faraji cooked something worth eating today."

"We can eat later. You need to get your arm checked out." Jacen noticed Naomi was still favoring her right arm, holding it close to her like it was in a sling. "We need to be ready in case we head out again."

Naomi blew out air. "I'd rather eat. It's nothing. Just need to ice it up and keep it elevated."

Jacen only grunted. He didn't have the energy to argue. There was a certain hostility in her voice, in her tone. She was fuming about something. Whatever it as, it would have to wait until he had the patience to investigate.

They passed the narrow, dimly lit hall that would've led them to the clinic, progressing toward the cafeteria that was just up ahead. The smell of cooking food wasn't prevalent, but no aroma seemed to overpower the scent of the stale, recycled air that seemed to never dissipate into something more pleasant.

"I think we should be worried." Naomi found herself just making conversation. Jacen was aggravatingly tightlipped. She reasoned it was a subject that would break his silence. "Rey knows what that thing was. Makes me think we should've killed it."

Jacen grunted. "Maybe. It didn't attack us. Could've cared less that we were even there." He headed inside of the cafeteria. There was a line of ten with bowls in their hands, shifting and indulging and mundane conversation to pass the time until they were fed. The majority of the round, four-seated tables were occupied, while others simply stood against the walls of peeling beige paint and ate. "He told us to relax, so we'll relax. Better to come across that thing than something worse."

Naomi wasn't convinced. Any Covvie was bad news, not matter how docile they appeared. She couldn't help but think they'd made a mistake by keeping that alien alive. So many bad decisions have been made due to human error, the worst of which costing lives. She tried to hear what Jacen was saying. No other Covenant she'd ever encountered acted that way. Elites, Jackals, Grunts—the species she'd seen—would kill you the second you moved into their line of sight. Rey had better not be downplaying this.

DEV observed Captain Anderton switch back and forth between multiple viewing screens with a small yellow notepad in his hands. Another lit cigarette, to the A.I.'s dismay, hung from his lips as he jotted down brief notes from each screen. A peculiar sight, indeed. Mr. Pearce and Ms. Diaz had barely made it out the door before the captain ordered him to pull up specific technical systems throughout the facility. What they all had in common was simple: they were either non-operational, failing, toward the end of their life span, and patch-work systems that required legitimate repairs or they would shut down.

DEV had an estimate on when exactly those systems would finish their operational course and die. It was a word in his infinite vocabulary that DEV, even though he knew the full definition of, couldn't quite grasp. Death. He figured he himself couldn't die in the relative sense a human could. His body held no organs, required no oxygen, and was not subject to the limitations of age. He'd been alive since the creation of the facility, and unless he willingly purged his own existence, DEV reasoned—

—"I don't see any other way around this, DEV."

DEV pivoted his body around to face Rey, refocused. "I can run another diagnostic."

Rey shook his head, blinking the smoke from his eyes. "You've ran multiple diagnostics over the past week. No changes. We've made all the repairs we could. We'll be moving into the life-support stage soon if we don't do something."

"I have my protocols, Captain," DEV replied. "My primary goal is the extension of life of all occupants within this facility for as long as possible. I do not recommend this, Captain."

Rey pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced. He lowered his hands down to his hips and transferred his eyes to the floor. "That's my goal as well. We can't ignore this. The Grunts unknowingly just threw us a bone, and I see plenty of meat still on it. This could be the break we were waiting for."

DEV had up to 250 reasons why Captain Anderton's potential risk was asinine. It would take no more than, barring no interruption, thirty minutes to explain those reasons and their subsequent consequences, but the A.I. already knew there would be no talking the captain out of it. "I understand, Captain. I won't object… totally."

"Alright, then." Rey clapped his hands together, rubbing his palms. "We'll do it."