The Rabbit and the Wolfe

Hoped you all enjoyed chapter 1 of RW:CL! I know I enjoyed writing it! Sorry this chapter is not as long as you may be used to, but I didn't want to drag out the word count with useless scenes that might bore you. Sorry as well if this chapter isn't up to par with what I usually produce, I am just trying to set things up for the next few chapters. We will be on Imbur for a while. Let's get on to the chapter. Don't forget to favorite, follow and review!

02: Roots of Revolution

November 22, 2561

UNSC Infinity

23 Librae System

0230 hours

Green eyes opened slowly, flickering sleepily in the darkened room. She attempted to sit up, only to be brought back down by an acute pain in her stomach. She groaned as her body fought against every movement she made. Her muscles were stiff as boards, her skin tingled, remembering the objects being unjustly thrust into the nerves and tissues. Sandra huffed, annoyed at her body's lack of flexibility.

"You know, you complained a lot less when you were unconscious." A voice called from the corner, frustrated. But Sandra could hear the relief behind the words. Sandra smiled as she recognized the doctor's voice.

"Ya, well sex is quite difficult when you aren't lucid. Believe me, I've tried." She could almost feel the glare from across the room.

"Not on my beds you haven't"

"Don't be so sure." Sandra chuckled to herself as the other woman remained silent, opting to glare instead. The room was quiet for a few moments before the doctor spoke once again.

"It wasn't the same without you." Sandra's smile faded a little as she took in the meaning of the woman's words.

"Sorry. I didn't really have a choice. Not sure if I still do, Bridget."

"As long as you are under my care you will not be removed from this ship." Dr. Cassidy replied adamantly. Sandra shrugged noncommittally.

"Don't shrug those shoulders at me, Spartan." Damn, that woman is freakily observant. Sandra was starting to feel uncomfortable bringing up old wounds, so she switched topics.

"H-how is she?" Sandra asked shakily, afraid of the answer.

"Physically, Amber is fine, only a few minor cuts and bruises, which will heal in time. I'm no child psychologist, so I will leave her care up to you. But I'm guessing that's not who you were asking about." Sandra's silence spoke volumes. Dr. Cassidy made her way over to the recovering Spartan, sitting down beside her bed.

"She'll deny it if you ask her, but Kelly was really worried about you." Bridget placed a hand over hers. "She was by your side whenever she was off duty. Brought Amber along a few times as well. That woman hasn't been the same since you were discharged." Sandra looked away, guilt flooding her. "Hey, in the few days you've been here, even unconscious, has lifted her spirits more than any victory ever could." The blonde perked up at the length of time she'd been out.

"How many days was I out?"

"Three, give or take a few hours." Came Bridget's practiced response. Sandra glanced about the room, unable to spot another body with her improved vision.

"She's waiting outside the room. I'll give you two some alone time." It still amazed Sandra how perceptive and intuitive the teal-eyed doctor could be. "Oh, and Sandra?"

"Ya, ya. I get it. Keep the screaming down." Sandra responded playfully. Bridget shook her head, muttering something about 'stubborn Spartans' and left, the door closing with a quiet hiss behind her. Looking up, there was someone else she wanted to say hello to.

"Hello Roland." She whispered.

"If anyone asks, you were asleep the whole night." The AI responded, mildly annoyed, but his voice carried a hint of amusement. "It's good to see you again, Spartan Wolfe."

"Likewise, Roland." She broke her conversation with the ceiling as the door opened again, light flooding in from the hallway. She squinted at the sharp, artificial illumination, wishing unkind things on whoever installed them. Kelly entered tentatively, pausing just a few feet out of her lover's reach.

"I don't bite." Sandra paused, as if rethinking her previous statement. "Well, you I might." Kelly's neutral look never faded, even in the face of Sandra's wolfish grin. Sandra's grin faltered as Kelly marched over, her sapphire eyes as sharp as ice. "Heh, uh, am I in trouble?" She squeaked out, swallowing hard at her lover's level glare. The pillow offered little means of retreat as she sunk further into it, eager to escape the chilling blizzard that was sure to come her way. She was more than a little surprised as Kelly captured her lips in a passionate kiss, pushing three years of pent up emotions into the one action.

When she could breathe again, Sandra found those ocean blue eyes. They had lost all their anger, being replaced with only a deep, resounding affection, devotion and happiness. Kelly was smiling, the small and soft, but nonetheless warm, toothless grin that she seemed to save only for her little pup. A glimpse of the woman behind the armor. Sandra saw her scout's mouth moving, but couldn't make out a single word.

"What?" Sandra asked, clueless.

"Not unless you don't reciprocate." Sandra didn't hesitate. Wrapping her arms around the brunette's neck as fast as her body would allow, she claimed the woman's lips with as much ferocity and passion she could muster. Kelly was sorely tempted to plunge her tongue down her pup's throat, but held back, figuring there would be time for that later. Sandra thought otherwise, engaging their oral muscles in a fight for dominance. A single strand of saliva kept them connected as their lungs screamed for air. Kelly blinked dumbly, feeling her face heat up as Sandra giggled unabashedly at her.

"How was that?" Kelly could only nod, swallowing the lump building in the back of her throat. Just like her to up-stage the veteran scout. A heavy sigh escaped the ex-Spartan, followed by a groan of pain as she rolled away, lifting the sheets behind her.

"I don't open my bed to just anyone, ma'am." She announced coyly, smiling at the slight frown that was surely plastered on the woman's face. Why she got such joy from eliciting a rise out of her partner was a mystery to her. Never stopped me before. She relaxed as Kelly eased into the bed beside her, encircling them in a cocoon of warmth.

"Don't think I won't boot your ass out of here if those frigid ice blocks you have as feet even brush me." Her smile grew even brighter as Kelly cursed under her breath. Sandra's threat disappeared into the silence of the ward, the hum of the engines providing a relaxing atmosphere. It's amazing how nice everything seemed when people aren't shooting at you.

"Linda wants you dead." Kelly said evenly, her breath tickling the blonde's neck.

"It's frightening how passive your voice was just now. Why? What did I do?"

Kelly wrapped her arms around her pup's stomach, careful not to aggravate her recovering wounds. "It wasn't you. It was what our daughter said. Sandra's heart warmed at the mention of 'our daughter', though it was quickly replaced by a near-crippling fear.

"Was it the chipmunk thing?" Kelly hummed in the affirmative, sending a spike of dread down her spine. Honestly, she had meant it as a joke, aimed at relieving her temper at the day's frustrations. One thing Sandra had learned about Linda: never take pot-shots at her weight. People usually ended up dead. Or worse. Kelly coiled around her younger compatriot possessively as the woman shivered in fear.

"You would protect me though, right?"

"Unknown. What's in it for me?" Kelly responded, curious. She began to lazily trail her hands up and down Sandra's arms, who rolled her eyes at the implication.

"As much fun as it would be to break this bed, I don't want to add my name to anyone else's shit list. I was advised to keep any 'strenuous activities' to an absolute minimum." Kelly frowned behind her, resting her arms across the younger Spartan's taunt stomach. "Sorry, bunny. Look but don't touch." Kelly sighed in defeat, nestling her face within the locks of her partner, breathing in the lingering scent.

"Kelly?" She asked, all previous playfulness gone.

"Go ahead."

"What about Amber and I? As nice as this is, this is still a military vessel and I haven't been a Spartan for three years. We aren't permitted to be here and I won't allow anyone to break regs at my expense. I-"

"Shhh," Kelly interrupted. "Get some rest, Sandra. We can discuss this later." Sandra tried to roll over to argue her case, but Kelly wouldn't budge. Eventually, she gave up, burying herself into her lover's curves and closing her eyes. Kelly observed the rise and fall of Sandra's chest as she slept, until her eyelids felt like Scorpion tanks, heavy and cumbersome. With one final kiss, she intertwined her legs and fell to the beckoning call of sleep.

UNSC Infinity

23 Librae System

0900 hours

Sandra belted out a deep yawn as she eyed the green bag hanging before her. After her morning run among the Pelicans, the gym was her next stop, to knock the stiffness out of her limbs. Squaring up with the bag, she began her routine, altering punches and kicks to loosen up her unused joints. While her injuries prevented her from going all-out, she had accumulated an impressive amount of sweat before the door opened.

"Glad to see your awake. Again." Sandra sent the bag swinging with a roundhouse before turning around. The ex-AI hadn't really changed that much from when she was rescued three years ago. Beyond the longer hair and the absence of her Forerunner skin, Cortana still looked the same. And still very blue. There must be some sort of thing for alien blue women. Who the hell knows?

"It takes more than a couple of goons with guns to take me out." Cortana nodded understandingly, handing her one of two steaming cups of liquid. It amazed her sometimes how much the Chief and her had in common, namely for their propensity for attracting trouble and their incredible luck.

"Thanks for the coffee. How's the Chief?" Her cheeks glowed pink for a moment, a remnant from her days as an AI. She took a sip of her coffee, collecting her thoughts.

"Good." Cortana responded, distracted. She was staring off into the corner of the gymnasium and Sandra could hazard a guess as to why.

"Still getting used to the whole 'not-an-AI' thing?" A short nod was her only response as they sipped the dark morning brew from their mugs.

"When you live your whole life breaking down everything you see into multivariable calculations, knowing that eventually you will literally think yourself to death, it's amazing I was able to last as long as I did. Not to mention the giant doomsday clock that constantly ticked away in the back of my head. Being able to see things as they are, not as base elements, not as calculations or variables, but as what they truly are is quite…" She trailed off, uncertain how to finish.

"Liberating?" Sandra offered. Cortana smiled, her eyes twinkling with joy. The duo continued to sip their drinks, enjoying the calm before the storm. The early risers had already completed their workouts and the late bloomers wouldn't be up for another half an hour, at least.

"The Captain asked for you."

"Then let's move." Cortana gave a short nod, took the Spartan's cup, and followed her to the nearest lift.


The doors opened with a low hiss, allowing the last remaining attendee to enter before shutting them away from the outside noise of the busy ship. Lasky glanced up from his briefing, his serious face softening at the sight of the newest addition to Blue Team.

"You asked for me sir, ma'am?"

"You alright?" The question took Sandra off guard. Five sets of eyes and a golden faceplate turned to her, expecting a response.

"A little sore, but I'll be fine."

"Good." He gave a small smile and a nod, as if coming to a conclusion with himself. "How did you find us? Our location was classified and no offence, but you have been out of the loop for a while." Sandra let the sharp reminder of her 'sudden reassignment' roll over her as she mulled over how to respond.

"Sorry for the interruption, sir, but you're going to want to see this. Now."

"Show us." Lasky's commanding voice shifted the entire atmosphere on the bridge. Gone were the curious looks and subtle nudges. All eyes were focused on the letters that spun lazily above the table.

"Wide-band message across all frequencies. Unless you're living under a rock, there's no way someone isn't going to see this." Roland's calm voice projected. Lasky silently nodded, not taking his eyes off the logo.

The letters faded away, revealing a man in a deep navy suit, perfectly combed raven black hair, with the occasional grey streak and a strong complexion that put him into his mid-40's to early 50's. His blue eyes were hardened from one what might assume could easily stem from surviving a genocidal war with an alien hegemony. His confident physique looked like it could chisel marble and dazzling smile that could sell water to the ocean. All of this added up to one thing in Sandra's mind: Target practice.

"Hello to all. My name is Wilhelm Sundance and I am a member of the UNR, the United Rebel Front. For decades, we have been corralled and abused by the oppressive UNSC. And for a time, we allowed it, as our goals were similar in the face of extinction: survival. But with the once-grand Covenant in shambles, these imperialists have sought to enforce their will upon us once again. No more! You will find no message of hope or coexistence here: this is war. We will take any and all measures necessary to ensure that we can live our lives free of tyranny and brutality. But we do not throw away our men and women like toys! We will no longer strike from the shadows. Today is a new day. We are your family, your friends, lovers, coworkers…your comrades. The UNR will plunge a poisoned dagger deep into the heart of the UNSC and watch as it consumes itself with fear and hatred! They will try to stop us with their war dogs and their spies, but we shall not be deterred. Let me ask you: How do you cripple a god? Find it's weakness and destroy it. And what better way to do that then to strike down their poster children? Your armor may shield from the blood you swim in and the bones upon which you sit, but can it protect you from the coming storm?"

Wilhelm faded from view, the screen splitting into four segments, each one focused on a central communications satellite. Each one acts as a dam, sending, funneling and receiving billions of communications each second. Though automated, they are pivotal to military and civilian communications alike, allowing information to be sent across lightyears in a matter of hours. It revolutionized communication systems as they knew it today. It was all gone in the blink of an eye.

Kelly thought she was watching a mission replay, her brain struggling to comprehend what was happening before her very eyes. Mars. Reach. Ballast. Chi Ceti IV. Blue eyes watched in horrified awe as the shockwave blew away floating debris, like a tsunami flooding a coastal town. Orange and red curled around one another, like lovers on a cold night, consuming all in its path. Like a hungry beast, they licked their way out into the black void, feasting upon the delectable fear of all of those who gazed upon its infernal form. The rest of the planets' networks followed suit, shattering like glass under the massive heat and pressure. Four planets, suddenly ripped from the communication network woven into every aspect of their lives. The planets would be crippled for months.

"Aura, get in touch with any task force near those planets. Preliminary damage assessment, reroute them if you have to. I don't care if you have the clearance or not." Lasky's voice cut through the disbelief, stirring Kelly and the other Spartans from the table in front of them.

"Of course, Captain."

"Roland, get me in touch with Admiral Hood. We can't just sit by and do nothing as these-"

"No need, Captain. Priority message coming through." Infinity's AI interrupted. "it's Admiral Osman."

"Bring it up." He stated, serious.

The head of ONI wore the same indignant, disappointed look she always bore. As if she was woefully unimpressed with anyone else other than herself. Those same cold, commanding eyes swept over the gathered individuals, pausing momentarily on Sandra, before coming back to rest on Lasky.

"Captain. The Infinity is being redeployed." It was an order. One Thomas knew better to question, even if he didn't understand why.

"Where ma'am?"

"Imber, intel suggests the URF are attacking any world with UNSC presence. People are using his speech as a rallying cry. We need to put down this rebellion before it can get any worse. We will not have another Insurrection, is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am. But with all due respect, there are civilians on this ship. Protocol dictates that we are not allowed to purposefully engage in any form of combat while they are on board." Serin glared at Sandra from behind her folded arms, her unflinching gaze threatening to cut the woman in two. The blonde had been a constant pain in her ass. There had not been a single day that had passed that she hadn't wanted to shoot her. But, regrettably, she did have her uses. The intel she had provided had given the Admiral necessary time to sever quite a few heads from the URF hydra.

"Drop her at the nearest UNSC controlled planet. Your mission is top priority." She commanded flatly, ending the conversation.

"That's bullshit and we both know it, Serin." Sandra growled from the back of the room, refusing to use the woman's rank. The woman glared angrily at the interruption, but kept silent, waiting for the blonde to continue. If Sandra wanted to dig her own grave she was more than willing to let her. Kelly brushed up against her teammate in a desperate attempt to stop the rash woman, but Sandra just brushed her off, stepping into full view beside Palmer, who was more than willing to step away from the Admiral's growing ire. "You heard it yourself, they are hunting Spartans. And, like it or not, I am a Spartan. While you can never take what these people say at face value, this time I can say from personal experience that they want us dead. Badly. You read my report. They knew exactly who I was. Now, I know you don't like me but I hope you aren't stupid enough to waste a valuable asset." Sandra smiled to herself as the Admiral leaned forward in her seat in an effort to intimidate her. Nice try. Amber is more intimidating than you could ever be.

"Let me remind you, Ms. Wolfe, that you are a civilian on a military vessel. One that is engaged in wartime operations." Osman spoke calmly, through her jaw was clenched in anger at this woman's sheer disrespect and flippant attitude. She frowned even more as the woman didn't even flinch. "However, the intelligence you provided proves an undeniable fact: because you are a Spartan, your death could be used as a rallying cry for the Insurrectionists. That is absolutely unacceptable. As such, you will under the command of Spartan Starr of Fireteam Oasis." She relished in the woman's clear unhappiness as her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Furthermore-" Sandra didn't let her finish as she ended the call with more force than necessary.

"Bitch." She hissed. At least she wouldn't be dumped in the middle of nowhere.

"Report to your station, Spartan." Commander Palmer ordered, surprise and amusement clear in her voice.

"Yes ma'am!" She saluted the two commanding officers before turning to the legendary Spartan. "See you out there, Chief!" Lasky waited till the bridge doors closed again before speaking.

"Roland, see to it that her armor is brought out of storage."

"You kept it?" Commander Palmer asked. She had expected the woman's armor had been removed from the Infinity long ago.

"I had a feeling it might be of use some day." Palmer merely grunted, choosing not to voice her real opinion as to why in front of others. "Chief, get ready. We have no clue what to expect when we get there."

"Sir." His deep baritone heralded armored boots leaving the deck.

"Damn it," Palmer announced, exasperated. "I owe you those 200 credits now, don't I?" Lasky gave the Commander a sly grin which she returned with a shake of her head.

"You most certainly do, Commander."

November 23, 2561

Imber Surface

1300 hours

Patricia Shaddock sat on a small bed, staring blankly at the picture in her hand. Her other hand was clutched over her chest, cradling a small data chip, the culmination of almost half a century of questions that she still had no answer to. A sad sigh escaped her lips as she placed the picture back on the nightstand. She wanted to cry, she really did. But she had used up her tears years ago. Now, all she had was emptiness and sorrow, remnants of a wound that would never heal. Tucking a silver lock behind her ear, she rubbed the bed affectionately. The sheets had been replaced many times over the years, but they always contained some aspect of nature, one of the few things she could remember her daughter had loved. The room was always clean and free of dust, as if she expected her daughter to walk through her door, her family in tow. They would cry and embrace and cry some more. Eventually, when all their tears were wiped away they would talk about what had happened, why her precious daughter had never returned to her. But this was just a fantasy- a vile trick her mind used to prey upon her insecurities and capitalize on her fears.

Overcome by her emotions, she threw the picture at the wall, breaking the frame and throwing shards of glass in all directions, like snowflakes in a blizzard. Worried footsteps hurried up the stairs before sharply opening the bedroom door. His eyes searched frantically for a few moments before coming to a rest on the deep blue sapphires of the elderly woman in the center of the room, completely unharmed.

"Mrs. Shaddock, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" She smiled softly at his plight. She had never made the job easy for the young man, even in her later years.

"You know better than to call me that, Timothy." He gave her an embarrassed, lopsided grin.

"Sorry Patr-Patty." Her smile widened and she nodded.

"That's better." She noticed him look to the broken frame and then back at her, as if asking: Is it alright? Her daughter's things had always been a private affair. Though she needed help getting through her day sometimes, she wouldn't let anyone else interfere with her 'little memories' project, as she called it. When Timothy had first started caring for her, they had their share of fights about his interference in her 'hall of memories', but over the years he had come to understand her pain, at least to some extent, and stopped asking to help. When she shook her head no, he gave her a small smile.

"Just holler if you need me. Lunch is almost ready." He exited the small bedroom, leaving Patricia to her thoughts. Oh Douglas, I wish you were still here. It hasn't been the same. Indecision struck her as she stood in the middle of the room. She wanted to clean the mess she made, but she was famished. Shaking her head, amused with herself, she patted the bed again.

"Be good. Mommy will be back shortly." She took a few steps towards the door when a strange sound caught her ears. It was a whoosh sound, like the wind that blew outside her window when she opened it at night. But she swore Timothy had closed all of them this morning. Maybe my age is finally catching up with me. Chuckling to herself, she reached for the doorknob as her world literally exploded. She barely had time to blink before something heavy hit her in the head, knocking her unconscious. Outside, gunfire rang in the streets as missiles soared overhead. War had come to Imber.


The Pelican descended through the skies towards its destination. Aside from the occasional turbulence or burst of AA fire, it was quiet. Their pilot was a no-nonsense veteran who was quiet except for the occasional update from Infinity. Sandra frowned behind her black-gold visor. She missed the banter, she missed her team. But if this was the price she had to pay to get back at these bastards who tried to kill her little angel, she would gladly pay it.

"The URF have engaged our forces all across the planet. It's a bloodbath, and civilians are being caught in the crossfire. Your mission is to aid in the evacuation of New Bristol. Fighting has been fierce but it's been relatively quiet for the past few hours. We will be dropping you in a courtyard overlooking one of the parks. From there, you will make your way to Rally Point Bravo and rendezvous with Blue Team." Sandra looked over the city overlays and possible routes, forming a plan in her head in case things went south.

"Why not just drop us directly into the city?" A teal COMMANDO-variant Spartan asked. P. Bretts, one of her old squad mates, he was one of the few still alive, having been recruited into the SPARTAN-IV program. After the initial shock, he joked with her and even offered to help reacclimate her to her armor. The rest of the day was spent either in the gym or on the range. Sandra enjoyed that he treated her like a member of the team, even without asking for any explanation of why she appeared out of nowhere after three years. Lasky's response pulled her attention back to the holographic screen.

"We already lost two birds trying to land troops inside the city. Anti-air defenses are too much. The outskirts are the only option."

"Understood, sir. We'll get it done."

"See to it, Oasis." Lasky ended the transmission. Sandra checked her weapons once again. Fighting in an urban setting she went with quantity over quality. Twin SMG's to blanket the enemy and a battle rifle to finish them off. It was an older series, trading stability for greater power and faster fire rate. Sandra had tested it out on a whim and fell in love with it

"Tiff, how we looking?" The black CYCLOPS didn't even look up from her M45 as she responded.

"As long as the new girl can keep up, backstreets are our new best friend." She seemed bored and Sandra had the urge to smack her upside the head. Or run her through. Sometimes, she surprised even herself.

"Don't expect me to pick you up if you trip over your kimono." Sandra shot back. The two women had not gotten off to a great start. Tiffany didn't want another woman on the fireteam and Sandra wasn't one to hold back insults when pushed into a corner. Finding out the woman was Asian just added fuel to the fire. Sandra had absolutely nothing against the woman's heritage, but it did give her sensitive topics to strike back with. With Kelly, she riled her up because she loved her. With Tiffany, she did it because she didn't like her.

"Woah, keep it in the bedroom, ladies!" Patrick joked. Sandra and Tiffany continued to glare at each other behind their visors, but at least they were silent about it. Shaking his head, he placed a battle rifle on his back before pulling an AR from a nearby cradle. He caught his commander's visor, who jerked his head towards the two women. His question was obvious: What's up with them? Bretts just shrugged, sliding a full magazine into the assault rifle.

"Thirty seconds, Spartans." The large dropship squeezed into the small courtyard, leaving a few inches on either side. If the Insurrectionists decided the transport was a threat, it would have nowhere to flee. With that chilling thought in the back of the pilot's mind, he threw the gangplank open, allowing the four Spartans exit. They spread out, eyeing the surrounding buildings carefully, the transport throwing dust and debris around like ragdolls as it took to the sky once again. Once the roar of the cyan thrusters faded from earshot, did they realize just how quiet it was.

"There will be time for sightseeing later. Let's move, Oasis." Sandra and the others followed their commander as they made their way through the damaged city as stealthily as they could. New Bristol had seen better days, that was for sure. Bodies littered the streets, some so heavily riddled with bullets or ripped apart by explosions no one would ever recognize them. Red flowed through the once pristine streets like water as civilians were caught in the crossfire; the city was dying. Rockets had blown huge sections of buildings away, leading to their collapse as the structure could sustain itself no longer. But this scene wasn't exclusive to organics. Vehicles, now twisted husks of what they once were, their fires acting as beacons to a grim and grisly scene.

"The hell happened here?" Tiffany called over the TEAMCOM, both shocked and disgusted.

"We need to get off the street. The target on our backs is big enough as is." They made their way into the dark and cramped side streets, leaving Death to reap the souls of the living. They made their way through empty apartments, footsteps echoing along the abandoned corridors. Exiting the shattered shell of the apartment, Stephen glanced up to see an object falling from the sky.

"Cover!" He yelled over the silence. Four Spartans ducked behind whatever cover they could find, waiting for the danger to pass. The disturbing splat it made as it met the unforgiving concrete was enough to pull them from cover. They swept the upper levels with their rifles looking for targets before moving quickly across the small courtyard. The man's eyes were open wide in horror as blood trickled from his mouth. His face was frozen into a pained grimace, as if he could still feel the blood pooling under him. Sandra's hands angrily tightened around the frame of her rifle. Bastards! It was clear someone had tortured this man before eventually killing him and disposing of his body. There was nothing more she wanted to do then climb up there and kill every single one of them, her rage compelled her, called to her. She pushed the building anger aside, focusing on her fireteam leader instead.

"We clear this building, floor by floor. There might be civilians in need of aid." He spoke through clenched teeth. Three green lights acknowledged his orders. Each floor they climbed brought with it more corpses than any of them were prepared to see, each one more mangled than the last. The few dozen UNSC troopers they discovered led them to believe that this what remained of a botched evacuation. The gaping holes and mangled wrecks of transport Pelicans seemed to support the theory. The number of dead civilians was…unsettling, to say the least. Even Bretts, the chattiest of the four, was silent. Sandra didn't like it. This monolith of death, its skin torn off leaving its skeleton open to the elements, urged their heavy steps forward, lest the screams of the dead reach their ears.

They moved up each floor slowly, wary of traps. They were lucky so far: the battle that had raged within had set of any prepared traps, rewarding those caught within its grasp an untimely end. Sandra grasped one of her blades as they rested on her hips. Though they filled her with a sense of familiarity, they lacked the warmth of another person, particularly one clad in white armor that was currently making her own way to rally point Bravo to assist in the evacuation. Pushing through the last of the debris, they advanced up yet another flight of stairs, pausing as voices echoed down the concrete stairwell.

"Listen lady, you better shut the hell up! Unless you want to join your friend 43 floors down." Sandra glanced over at the nearby floor marker. Though scorched, the numbers were still legible. Stephen signaled them forward with two fingers towards the voices. Sandra and the rest of Oasis crept into the blown-out rooms, spreading out to cover one another.

"Ten tangos, two civilians. Whenever you're ready boss." Brett's said, sighting down one of the rebel troopers. A moment of silence passed. Then two. Then the order came.

"Take them down!"

Come Back Next Chapter!

With school starting up, my update schedule will slow down. For those of you who are unfamiliar with my wacky update schedule during school, it is usually a chapter a month or so. It may be faster or slower depending on my homework load and work. I have my priorities, as do we all. I'm sure you can find other stories on this site to tide you over till I can produce another chapter. And if anyone is interested in creating cover art for either of these two stories just let me know. Once again, favorite, follow and review! Till next time!