Text = Onomatopoeia
'Text' = Thought
"Text" = Non-verbal Communication
"Text" = Speech
Chapter 16: Out of Left Field
February 20th, 2569
13:32 Local Time
Fort Keyes, Minerva, Lambda Rho System
"Congratulations soldier, you just died." Andrew proclaimed. The lesson was going swimmingly thus far. None of his students had figured out what the trick to this bomb was.
"What the hell is with this thing? First, it's five seconds, next it's instantaneous? What's going on?" One soldier protested.
"Hargrove, a diagram of the device please?"
"Of course, Spartan." The base's AI replied. A hologram appeared in the center of the simulator, showing the bomb's design. Andrew highlighted several components in different colors.
"The microcontroller on this device runs checks to ensure that different components are intact. If it can't find the parts it's looking for, boom. There are two separate detonators on this. Only one is directly powered by the battery pack. That would be the five second timer. The other is powered by capacitors on the microcontroller. If the power supply or timer are removed the capacitors go off, if the capacitor detonator is eliminated the timer is triggered. Cut the leads to both detonators at the same time. Reset and try again." Andrew stepped back to let his class try again. As the soldiers resumed Andrew noticed them begin to succeed. They were performing surprisingly well in his book. Their observation of the device and caution when handling was spot on.
"Spartan G199! You and I need to have a chat." A familiar voice cut through the simulation room.
"Aquila One, please leave the simulator and wait until I'm done with my course. It should only take about seven minutes or so."
"That wasn't a request."
"Aquila One, as the instructor of this course I am the ranking individual in this room, now get out so I can finish my class." Andrew turned back to the soldiers disarming the dummy device.
"I don't take orders from people who work with syndicate scum." Walsh replied as he stepped closer to Andrew.
"Look, I don't care what you think about how I do my job. The fact of the matter is that I had the backing of CINCONI and Commander McKnight. I went through the proper channels. Now, get out of this simulator." Andrew didn't need to turn around to know Walsh was throwing a punch. He sidestepped the attack and continued to observe his students. Walsh regained his footing and took another swing; Andrew fanned the strike away. "Hargrove, please alert Spartan MPs. Spartan Walsh is attempting to start a fight."
"That won't be needed sir, Commander McKnight is on her way here. You have approximately three minutes until she arrives."
"Thank you, Hargrove. Has everyone gotten to disarm the device?"
"Just two more left, instructor G199."
"Thank you, Sergeant. I suppose you're all set to leave once you're done. Don't forget to sign out. I'll see you next time we identify a new explosive device." Andrew deftly danced around Walsh's attempts to hit him.
"Just stand still."
"I may be built like a tank, but that doesn't mean I like being hit. You may want to stop before the Commander arrives. I've been fighting since forty-four, you're not gonna get a hit in."
"I don't care how long you've been fighting you don't get to ignore me like that." Andrew was now behind Walsh with his forearm against the man's back. Andrew watched as his last student finished their diffusal and left. Shortly after that McKnight arrived. Seeing Andrew dance back and forth behind Walsh was rather humorous in a crude way. Stowing her amusement, the Commander made her presence known. Andrew snapped to attention. Walsh didn't seem to care and slugged Andrew in the oblique. The man didn't even flinch.
"Andrew, please subdue Walsh and bring him with us to my office." Andrew quickly obliged, knocking Walsh to the ground and zip-cuffing him. Andrew dragged Walsh to his feet and began to follow McKnight.
McKnight angrily eyed Walsh. The man returned her glare from his seat. "Spartan Kasbin, when I said to drop this subject, I meant completely. Andrew came to me before attempting to set up his network. He didn't take any money from the syndicate. He put his ass in harm's way in order to obtain intelligence we needed to push the Red Hand out of New Sydney."
"He could be working with the enemy! I saw him using a Chatter. He could be communicating with them."
"Andrew, when was the last message from that mystery sender?"
"A few days ago. He was surprised that we went through with Street Sweeper. Even more surprised that I killed Daryna. My monthly report will include all of his messages as per usual. I'm no closer to figuring out their identity."
"Spartan Kasbin, ever since October Andrew has been receiving messages from someone closely tied to the local insurrection. This was brought to my attention as soon as Andrew had the chance to. He's not a traitor."
"That doesn't give him the right to act so aloof. He acts like none of this matters. Like he can just do as he pleases." McKnight was about to respond when Andrew motioned to let him take care of it.
"Walsh, are you aware of the rumors that surround the Spartan twos and threes?" Walsh shook his head. "Rumor has it that the Spartan twos and threes were children when they enlisted. Some might say the twos were kidnapped. Those rumors are true. I said I've been fighting since forty-four, that's because I was conscripted in forty-four at the age of five. I was trained to obtain intelligence any way I could. O.N.I wanted me for long term infiltration. In fifty-three I infiltrated an insurrection cell on New Harmony and worked with them for eleven months. While I was there, I made them turn on each other. When the time came, they didn't stand a chance against the UNSC. I was made to kill our own people and it makes me sick just thinking about it."
"Why would you tell me that."
"Because I've done things I'm not proud of. I still have to do things I'm not proud of. I do these things to protect the people of the UEG. I perform necessary evils so people can sleep knowing they're safe. If you think for one second that I've gone pinko, just ask the Commander to see what I did to Henshaw."
"Andrew, I believe you have a team meeting. I'll take care of Walsh. You're dismissed." Andrew simply nodded in response and left. "Now that he's gone, I'll show you Clayton Henshaw's final moments. October wasn't a good month for Phoenix's unit cohesion. Hargrove, bring up Phoenix Zero Two Kill Report Ten Twenty-two."
"Yes Commander. Kill Report Ten Twenty-two, two klicks outside of O.N.I Blacksite Foxhole. Starting playback." The large monitor on the wall lit up showing Clayton's emaciated form. The brief conversation between Andrew and the traitor played out. There was a hollowness to Andrew's voice that Walsh had never heard. It lacked empathy and emotion. Cold was the best way to describe it. The gun fired, dropping Clayton to his knees. The point of view lowered as Andrew matched Clayton's level and put a knife through the man's diaphragm. Walsh could see the man try to regain his breathing but fail. A full minute went by as Andrew stood and watched the man panic. Then the Spartan dumped his magazine into Clayton's torso. The body fell back into a grave and the video cut out.
"Why did you want me to see that?"
"Because Clayton was a traitor through and through. That's what Andrew does to traitors. He squeezes every last drop of intel out of them and then he kills them. He doesn't do it often for the sake of his mental health, but that's what O.N.I taught him to do. Stop harassing Phoenix. If anyone has a right to act aloof, it's them."
February 22nd
11:38 Local Time
75 Klicks NW of Fort Keyes
"I can't believe the Commander let you guys keep this thing!" Jaq exclaimed over comms.
"I can't believe Spartan Command actually put in a request for AMG to produce these for the company." King responded.
"I'm disappointed they're dropping the rocket pod for another MG." Andrew said plainly. The team had been given clearance to use the 'War Crime Wagon' for their patrols. They had about two hundred kilometers of road to patrol. To the right of the vehicle was a forest that stretched into the foothills of the mountains that separated the coastal region from the continent's vast inland desert. To the left were rural plains that eventually gave way to the sprawling coastal cities. Unfortunately, being on patrol meant traveling somewhere within normal city speed limits, meaning they had a long day of driving ahead. Thermer bumped Andrew's shoulder and pointed to a truck about a hundred and fifty meters ahead. Andrew slowed their vehicle and blocked the road about fifty meters away from the abandoned truck.
"Andrew, grab Sylas and check it out. King, stay on that gun. Sam, Jaq, keep an eye on sightlines." Thermer received four acknowledgement lights in response. Andrew went around behind the vehicle and unclipped Sylas from the seat. Together the two walked towards the abandoned pickup truck. About ten meters away Sylas stopped dead in his tracks. Andrew gave the Hellhound a pat on his armor and a silent command to return to Thermer.
"He says it's rigged, Boss. How should I proceed?"
"Stay alert, but see if you can disarm it."
Andrew approached the vehicle slowly, his Battle Rifle at a low ready. Five meters away the tail lights turned on. Andrew immediately brought the rifle to his shoulder and started to back away. Focusing just enough he could hear a click come from the front of the truck. 'RUN!' He wasn't one to argue. The Spartan turned and bolted. "HIT THE-"
BOOM!
Andrew was ripped from his feet and tossed four meters before slamming into the ground belly first. His ears rang, his head was swimming, through unfocused eyes his hud blinked red and time itself was crawling at a snail's pace. A jolt of energy cleared his cloudy thoughts and his vision came to focus. He rolled onto his back, pulling the pistol from his hip. From his supine position he could at least get an eye on any targets. Someone yelled something, he couldn't exactly hear them over the ringing. What he could hear was the immediate staccato of gunfire. Suddenly a hand wrapped around the underside of his chestplate and started to drag him.
"HIT THE-"
BOOM!
Thermer ducked and shielded himself from any debris. The explosion was over as soon as it started and the team leader could see the smoldering wreckage of the civilian vehicle. Sylas bolted for Andrew's Battle Rifle. Thermer ran for his downed explosives expert.
"CONTACT TEN O' CLOCK!" King yelled over his ringing ears
"TAKE 'EM DOWN PHOENIX! I'VE GOT ANDREW!" By the time Thermer had reached Andrew the man had rolled over and was seemingly ready to fight. Jesse grabbed Andrew's cuirass by the sternum and dragged him to their vehicle. When he looked down Andrew was in the process of removing his helmet. Normally he would've scolded him for it but the gunfire had already stopped. King came around to check on the two. Thermer spoke one word, "Report."
"Hostile forces are neutralized. Sam and Jaq are scanning the sight lines. I'll check him out."
"Copy." Thermer patched into the GROUNDNET. "Command, this is Phoenix Actual, do you read? Over."
"Phoenix Actual, Command, we read you lima charlie. What's your status? Over."
Thermer looked over to King cleaning the blood from Andrew's ears. "Command, we've made contact with the enemy. Car bomb was detonated, one friendly injury, all hostiles eliminated. Requesting reinforcements and permission to RTB. Over."
"What's your position? Over."
"Seventy-five klicks out Northwest by North. Broadcasting emergency beacon. Popping smoke in two minutes. Over."
"Copy Phoenix, seventy-five Northwest by North. Smoke in two. Friendly support is en route, hold position until further instruction. Over."
"Readback confirmed. Holding position. Phoenix out." Thermer knelt down next to Andrew and King. "How's he doing?"
"Perforated eardrum, serious concussion, muscle contusions in his back. He's not good to fight or drive."
"That's fine, support is on its way and we're awaiting instruction for RTB. We'll get him home."
"He's right here and very much not fine, Boss. I feel like I'm going to vomit." Andrew quipped as he lazily scratched Sylas's ear. "Guter hund."
"Don't worry big guy, we'll get you right as rain. King, pop orange in two mikes. Sam, how we doing?"
"No hostiles in sight. Bastards came outta left field. How's Andrew."
"Down for the count."
"I'm right here guys."
Minutes passed and King popped their smoke signal. Andrew wasn't exactly sure of how long it had been since the explosion, just that Sylas was by his side and that he felt like roadkill. A distant sound caught Sam's attention. "Engines about four minutes out, Boss."
"Good ear."
"Phoenix, this is Fireteam Aegis, we see orange. Over." A voice said over Thermer's comms.
"Affirmative Aegis, proceed on current route. Phoenix out." Thermer turned back to King and Andrew. "Brandon, get him up and in the back of the Wagon. Take your time though. Sam, you're copilot. Jaq when we get moving, I want you keeping an eye on Andrew. Make sure he doesn't fall asleep."
King and Andrew took their time getting up. By the time Andrew was on his feet Aegis was arriving. King was acting as a support for his injured comrade. Andrew's words came out slow and slurred. "You might want to take a few steps away."
King didn't get a chance to question his battle brother before Andrew leaned forward and wretched. His breakfast met asphalt in short order. Aegis One looked past Thermer at Andrew and then back to Thermer. The silent question was answered by a quick nod to the destroyed truck. Aegis One was still confused. "What was he doing so close to a car bomb?"
"We couldn't be sure at the time. I sent him to investigate and disarm if that was the case. Turns out it was an ambush. Five of them tried to hit us after they detonated the bomb. I'll ping the bodies for you."
"Oh, copy. Looks like he'll be out of commission for a while."
"I'm not a fuckin' vending machine. You can just say laid up." Andrew griped from his seat in the 'hog.
"Wow, just got blown up and you're still an asshole. Sometimes I wonder how your unit functions."
"Don't have to worry about it when everyone is an asshole, fuckface."
"Any further orders from base command?" Jesse cut in before the two could go on berating each other.
"Phoenix is clear to return to base. Stay safe out there."
"Thanks, we'll let you handle things from here. Phoenix, load up we are RTB." Thermer made his way to the driver's seat.
"Boss, with all due respect, please quiet down. My brain is registering sound as pain."
"How do you take two eight-gauge shells to the gut and seem fine, but a concussion has you acting like a bitch?" Sam turned around from the passenger seat as he asked.
"I will turn your arm into a fuckin' whisk if you don't turn around and shut your hole." Andrew threatened. Sam grumbled something under his breath. Again, the white noise and pain drowned out what was said.
"Andrew, no modifying Sam's prosthetic. That's an order." Thermer started the engine and started their trip back to base. Andrew stayed quiet most of the trip, either zoned out or deep in thought; the others couldn't really tell. To Andrew time just seemed to slip by; he would occasionally check the chronometer on his HUD to find that several minutes had passed, even though it felt like mere seconds. Looking around one last time he found themselves in front of Fort Keye's gates. 'When did we get here? Oh well, just gotta get inside and head to medical.'
February 24th
11:45 Local Time
Phoenix were lounging in their quarters. King, Jaq and Sam were on the couch in the living area watching some movie. From what Andrew could hear of it the film was pretty bad. Stunted dialogue, poor understanding of military radio chatter, bad sound effects; it was kind of amusing listening to the others laughing at how awful it was. Jesse was busy with paperwork. From what Andrew could remember it was a whole lot of crap regarding the bombing and his injuries. That was one thing he hated about the service, the paperwork; anytime something needed to be done there was always paperwork. This rifle needs a new barrel? Fill this out in duplicate. Disarmed a bomb? Better write a step by step guide on how you accomplished that. It was all time better spent doing anything else in his opinion. Not that Andrew could do much of anything with his concussion. Sure, the contusions were sore, but he could work through those. The brain damage was a different story; if he moved too fast, he'd vomit, if something was too loud, he'd have to leave until it was quiet, too bright and he'd need a hat and shades. He hated feeling useless. A knock at the door caught all of them off guard. Thermer answered to find Arinn standing on the other side. He spoke in a gentle tone. "Worried about the big guy?"
"Yes, but that's not the only reason I'm here." She answered. "He has an appointment today, I figured I'd come down here for it instead of making him come to my office. That is if you don't mind?"
"Sure, c'mon in, I'll grab the others and get out of your hair. Hey Andrew, want us to grab you some lunch?"
"What's on the menu today?"
"I think the mess is serving lasagna today." Sam said. Andrew tossed a plastic container to Thermer. The lasagna was one of the only edible things the mess served. That and the tacos. The irony of that wasn't lost on anyone. King shut off the T.V and started to follow the others out.
"Hey, we haven't worked on that project in a while, we should see about doing that sometime soon." Andrew's slow nod was enough of an answer. As King left, Arinn took the chair from Andrew's desk and sat down. Andrew sat up a little in his bunk, wincing as the action pulled on the bruised muscles in his back. Arinn pulled her data-pad from her bag and began recording.
"So, how's your recovery going."
"Oh, you know, stuck in bed doing nothing. My back still hurts and my brain feels like mashed potatoes. I feel pretty useless. I can't run drills or do my job on base. I'm stuck here sleeping and talking. The one good thing is that I can hang out with Sylas."
"You two have a really strong connection, don't you?" Arinn asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yeah, we do. Our first assignment together was that one in early September. When I got shot in the gut and kinda dismembered a Sangheili. We protected each other. I think he has me pegged for his pack brother. Either way our efficiency is through the roof."
"Yeah, Jaq and I had a chat a week ago. She mentioned that you two are terrifying together. Speaking of, where is he?"
"He has an appointment with some veterinarians or something. They're the people who worked on him during augmentations just checking to make sure he didn't get hurt too bad recently."
"Got it, well if you don't mind, I'd like to work on your pyromania today."
"Aren't you concerned about how I'm rationalising my near-death experience?"
"You want to get back in the field now more than ever in order to prevent more people from getting caught up in these car bombs. You want to channel your anger into combat and you're irritated that you're stuck here healing instead. Do I need to go on?" She deadpanned.
"No, that pretty much covers it. Damn you're good."
"We've known each other since before the destruction of Alpha Base. Now shall we talk about why you seem so keen to burn anything you can to a cinder?"
"Sure, I'm not really sure how this will help me though." Andrew shrugged.
"When was the first time you set something on fire?"
"Back in Camp Currahee during survival training. We had to learn how to start a fire without tools. It was the first time I'd seen natural fire. Not like a gas stove or burning fuel, but wood and leaves. There was something beautiful about it."
"What do you find beautiful about fire?" Arinn leaned forward.
"The purity of it. As humans we harness it to our own destructive ends. The fact is that fire is part of the natural cycle. When a forest burns down the old growth is destroyed, consumed by the fire, but it gives the forest new life. The ash fertilizes the soil, younger trees are too moist to burn and get the opportunity to grow. One could say that the legend of the phoenix is born from wildfires. Fire has no intent, no desire to change the world. It consumes and leaves behind a second chance for the affected area."
"Is that why you desire to burn things, to let nature retake the area you burn?" She made a note to listen to his explanation again later.
"No, that's not it. I can't really put my finger on why I feel that way. I think I'm just wired to destroy things. Fire seems like an efficient means to do so."
"I think that's your training and conditioning speaking."
"Not necessarily. At the orphanage I used to pick fights with the other kids all the time. That didn't really stop. I'm still always looking for a fight."
"You've never mentioned that behavior at the orphanage before. I don't think you've ever really mentioned the orphanage. That opens up a lot more questions."
"Like?"
"Why did you pick fights?"
"I was angry. I was there for five years. Not once did a family choose me. Seeing other kids get picked made me feel unwanted. I guess that behavior was self-destructive. Who would want a kid that keeps trying to hurt people? My training only amplified that. Hey, could you pass me that canteen and pill bottle?" Andrew pointed at the desired objects on his desk. Arinn passed them and the Spartan gave a shallow nod before taking a few of the white tablets and a large sip of water.
"So, if that's the old you, who do you see now?" Arinn felt like this was the most progress they'd made since September.
"I'll need to think about that for a moment. Can you pass the helmet over there?" Arinn picked up the relic and passed it over. Even with all the damage, it was still heavy. She watched as Andrew intently studied the broken helm. His right thumb traced over the massive gash in the box that made up the GUNGNIR's faceplate. Flipping it over Andrew gazed inside at the cracked visor and bloodstains. Rolling it around he inspected the etchings he made in the helm; his tag and kill count. Setting it down he looked back at Arinn.
"Ready?" She asked.
"Yeah. Looking back, I see a young man troubled by the things he's done in the name of the only thing that gave him purpose. I see a person that despite his misgivings wouldn't question orders. A person that didn't want help. To an extent I still am troubled by it. On the other hand, now-a-days I find my purpose is to protect the people. My chain of command would agree, but I don't do it for the military. I do it for the people. I want a future where soldiers like myself aren't necessary. I want a peaceful future. I'm also far more willing to question the orders we're given. I'm a troubled person who needs help, but I admit that I do. So here I am, getting help. If I don't, I'll never be able to move on."
"Do you understand that I've been waiting for you to say that for years? That you want to move on? I want to know something. When you get out, where will you go?"
"With any luck, back to Tribute. Maybe I'll put my skills to use and help people find the things or people they lost when the war came to the planet." He said wistfully.
"I want you to focus on that goal from now on. That's your personal reason for always moving forward. Got it?"
"Aye, aye. Here, you mind putting this back for me?" Andrew passed the helmet back to her. Arinn was about to put it back on the desk when she stopped and looked at him. A simple nod answered her silent question and Arinn went about examining the battered relic. She still remembered the days when Andrew wore the helmet. Even though Trost fell only five years prior, it felt like so much longer. Her home world had lost its ability to hold human life when Marc Bedragare crashed a Forerunner Dreadnought into its surface. Ironically, the man had done it in a desperate gamble to save the colony from a Promethean invasion. While it broke their blockade in the Delta Forti system, it destroyed the biosphere. It happened slowly, took months for the radiation and debris to poison the planet, but it happened nonetheless. It was something that she had in common with the Spartan. The loss of their home.
"This thing took a hell of a beating. It's incredible to actually hold a piece of your story. It puts things into perspective. Do you remember the fight that broke this helmet?"
"Yeah, motorized patrol on Trost. Got ambushed by Covies. Most of them got wiped out. The rest of us bugged out and bolted for Alpha Base. My mongoose was pretty banged up. I managed to get back to the motor pool and ditch the mongoose before the engine exploded. The fragmentation shredded the helmet and wrecked my left knee. I've got metal plates in it and a flash cloned knee cap. I came pretty close to being decapitated on that one." Andrew said a little too carelessly.
"So, this gash was from a chunk of a mongoose. Were you scared at all?" Arinn asked with a fair amount of concern.
"Absolutely terrified that the thing would blow up and kill me before I got back to base. After that, absolutely elated that only my knee was busted." Andrew said realizing his mistake. Arinn placed the broken helm back on the desk. Giving him a quick look, she shut her recorder off and put his chair back.
"I think I'll let you rest now. Remember not to overdo it until you're recovered." She was halfway out the door when his voice stopped her.
"Hey, thanks for swinging by. I appreciate it. Having part of my schedule stay the same takes my mind off of things." Arinn turned around and gave him a Spartan smile before heading out.
March 1st, 2569
15:38 Local Time
Jaq entered the team's barracks surprised to see Andrew out of bed. The last week he'd mostly lounged in bed nursing his concussion. It was obvious he hadn't bothered to slick his hair back, but she couldn't blame him for not bothering. The next thing she noticed was that he was seemingly deep in conversation with King. She meandered over to where they sat in the living area and plopped down in a chair. "'Sup fuckers?"
Andrew paused the recorder on the data-pad and looked at her slowly. His voice was rather unamused. "Working on a project with Brandon."
"What kinda project? This isn't some scheme to get back to fighting quicker is it?" She teased. Andrew was having a hard time figuring her out. Mrs. J and Jaq were two very different people. J was very business oriented and focused while Jaq was a bit bubblier. She was similar enough to everyone that they got along, but she was difficult for him to get a good read on.
"If you have to know, we're getting everything I remember about my first assignment down into a recording." Andrew said plainly.
"Why?" Jaq cocked her head to the side. Andrew groaned, the interruption already giving him a headache.
"That's right, you don't know much about Operation OUTCAST. Well I'll keep it short. Big guy here was tasked with infiltrating an innie stronghold and destroying their leadership from the inside. The things he did left him pretty fucked up. Sometimes he has night terrors about it. He's literally punched Sam in a panic because of it." King said quickly while Andrew took some painkillers.
"So, he's documenting it to get everything off his chest. Why does he need you for that?"
"Because I couldn't just talk to a microphone in an empty room. Despite having reservations about opening up to people, I find it easier than talking to a data-pad." Andrew answered bluntly.
"Gotcha, well don't let me interrupt. I'm just gonna listen in, learn a little about my teammate's dark past." She teased again. Andrew groaned as he resumed the recording.
"As I was saying, my next order was to remove their comms officer. I went about setting him up in a manner that he'd never be able to prove himself innocent. The full nine. Falsified waypoint chats, fake Chatters, doctored footage of him sneaking off base. I dumped everything on the commander's desk and sold that story like a kig-yar merchant. Poor bastard was executed the same day."
"What sort of fallout did that cause?"
"The kid in comms that befriended me, he ended up picking up a lot of the slack left over. I wonder if that hurt his chances of leaving that place before we attacked. Not like he would've left. I still regret not being able to convince him. He didn't deserve his fate, but letting him escape probably would've led him to more radical groups." Andrew hung his head as he remembered the assault on the compound. He wasn't ready to tell that story just yet.
"A lot of your regret comes from not being able to save that kid, doesn't it?" King asked cautiously.
"Yeah, it does. It's hard knowing that despite everything, you couldn't save the one person that could've been redeemed. It eats you up."
"I can understand that. There's someone I couldn't save either. I did something really stupid after that. I'm amazed I didn't die." King sympathized with his battle brother. Andrew stood up slowly and walked over to his desk. Picking up the wrecked helmet he made his way back to the couch and sat down. Examining the destroyed armor, he slowly formed his words.
"I did a lot of things I'm not proud of over the course of OUTCAST. I lied, cheated, and murdered people, all the while telling myself that it was for the safety of the colony. I even had to kill our people. Innocent soldiers laid to waste by one of the Spartans they were supposed to be happy to see. I was fine with killing the insurrection's leadership, but not our own people." Jaq stared quizzically when Andrew brought up having to kill UNSC forces. She hadn't expected something like that.
"Did the other members of their command ever get suspicious of you? Turning in all of these so-called traitors had to make them worry."
"No, I always waited a fair amount of time. Made it look like I was actually investigating them. I always had weeks' worth of evidence. There weren't many high-ranking people in the rebellion. Sometimes I'd wait a month or longer. By the time we assaulted the compound the only high-ranking officers left from when I arrived were the Commander and quartermaster. Everyone else was significantly inexperienced in their field. It made them much weaker in battle." Jaq was staring at Andrew with a look of shock and dismay. The way he talked about dismantling this rebellion was something different. She knew he hated insurrectionists, but the tone of his voice was melancholic. It betrayed what she believed to know. 'What did he do,' She asked herself.
King was about to say something when Sylas entered the barracks and trotted to Andrew. The massive dog set his chin on Andrew's knee and leaned against his leg. Thermer and Sam made their way in and Andrew stopped the recording. King passed his microphone over to Andrew. Looking at the time he realized it was close to his duty shift. He got up and whispered in Jaq's ear. "Meet me in the mess after my shift. I'll explain some more about this later."
Notes: I'm back! For a while I was struggling with some pretty severe writers block when it came to this story. Then I lost internet for a little over a month. I'm back though. Welcome to the beginning of the end. This story will be wrapping up around chapter twenty. Don't worry, I have another story in the works. It'll be shorter, but I'm enjoying writing it a lot more than I have been with OUTCAST. Anyway, stay tuned in for Chapter 17: Breaking the Wall.
