The Rabbit and the Wolfe
Welcome back to another chapter of RW:CL! Sorry it took me so long, school had me super busy and I couldn't find time to write. But I'm back now! Hope you all enjoy the newest installment where betrayal runs rampant and loyalties are questioned! Don't forget to favorite, follow and review!
09: Mirage
December 4, 2561
UNSC Infinity, E-deck, AI Core
77 Polar System
0200
Blue Team's armored boots rang heavily as the group of soldiers filed into the room. Quickly scanning the room for hostiles, Fred flashed his status light green three times: all clear. Sandra relaxed her grip on her battle rifle, allowing the weapon to dip towards the ground, to be used again if the need arose. The AI core was unusually dark, as not even the redundancy lights were online. Roland's physical home was usually brightly lit, glowing orange with his essence, as the AI's avatar would flitter about the room. This was mostly to reassure the technicians that they were helping another 'person'. The AI did not understand it himself, as constructs such as him required no physical form to live, he merely chalked it up to be a 'human thing' and continued with his work. The lack of his familiar glow or any light for that matter was extremely off-putting.
"Ok, were here. Now how do we turn him back on?" One of the other Privates asked. Sanchez, if Sandra was reading her HUD correctly. That is actually a good point, Sandra wondered. Though they were all familiar with a large majority of UNSC weaponry and equipment, rebooting an artificial intelligence was a bit out of their area of expertise. Too bad Aura or Cortana isn't here. They would have him back up and running before Chief could pop the seals of his helmet.
"Chief?" Linda questioned. Sandra had the feeling the sniper was becoming antsy, only given away by a twitch of her trigger finger. She thought it was a bit ironic, considering how much time the tan sniper must have spent alone in a perch or silently waiting hours for that one perfect shot. The group waited in nervous anticipation as Chief worked out a plan.
"Blue 2, take the surviving soldiers and protect our flank. Remain in contact." Fred nodded, wrangling the last three Marines and jogging back the way they came. Once they left, the legendary soldier turned to their resident sniper. "Linda." Sandra was left surprised. She didn't think simply speaking someone's name could be interpreted as an order, but the evidence was right in front of her eyes.
Linda flashed her status light once in confirmation and slipped into the shadows, almost as if she was never there. It still amazed the newcomer how quiet the S-II's could be in their MJOLNIR armor. "Kelly, scout ahead. We need a fallback plan if Fred is overwhelmed." The scout nodded succinctly, turning quickly on her heels. The woman's sapphire orbs gravitated to the forests behind the darkened gold visor that protected her lover's eyes. Time seemed to slow as Kelly dropped the opacity of her visor to reveal her brilliantly deep sapphire oceans, flashing a quick hand gesture to the woman of her dreams before disappearing behind a titanium door. Sandra's heart fluttered in her chest at the gesture, but quickly pushed it aside. She had a mission to accomplish, after all. Her feelings would have to be put on hold until then. Refocusing on Blue Leader, she waited for his command, shifting her weight from foot to foot in anticipation.
"Get Roland back online. We need his support." Chief said, not electing not to offer anything further. With a quick salute, she jogged over to her task. Yes, leave restarting the AI, clearly the most difficult task, to yours truly. Thanks, Chief. She thought sardonically. Quickly arriving at main control panel, she got to work. Or what she hoped was the main panel. With the power offline, the only illumination came from her helmet lights. It only took a few frustrated tapped on the blackened display before she realized her mistake. No power, right. The idea of banging her head against a wall until she killed the rest of her useless brain cells came to mind, but she quickly brushed the though away. Amusing though it may be, it would not help their situation in the slightest. Crouching down, she let her armor illuminate the cavity underneath the panel. it took her only moments to identify the source of the problem: the backup magnetic coupling had been disengaged from its housing, severing the backup power to the panel. Crawling underneath, the blonde picked up the connector, eyeing it curiously. Funny. Such a small little thing can completely stop a smart AI in its tracks. With a shrug, she inserted the coupling into its housing, twisting it until it locked with a dull thunk. Above her, the console thrummed with life, throwing a dull orange glow onto the panels around it, eager to be of use once more.
Sandra rapidly tapped in commands as her armor fed instructions via her HUD. So far, Blue Team had not reported any hostiles, but Sandra knew as soon as she booted Roland back up, their position was going to light up like a Christmas tree. If troops weren't already on their way, they soon would be. An angry beeping brought her attention back to the display before her.
ESTABLISHING CONNECTION…
CONNECTION ESTABLISHED
RESTORE SYSTEM POWER?
[YES] [NO]
Restore system power? If the Infinity was hit by an EMP, especially a powerful one, she would be staring at a dead monitor. No, his systems were deliberately taken offline. Most likely right before the rest of the ship's systems failed, to preserve his central matrix. This fact did not bode well for the nauseating feeling building in her stomach, nor for the dark, twisted theory that slowly built upon itself inside her mind.
"We have a problem. Well, two actually." She spoke over the TEAMCOM, doing her best to swallow the lump that seemed to sit like brick of lead in her throat. She plowed onward in her explanation, not waiting for a verbal response from her team mates. "Roland was not shut down by an EMP or any outside source. He was deliberately taken offline, physically disconnected. Most likely by those attacking the ship, but I can't back it up."
"Are you suggesting…a mutiny?" Fred cautiously asked, as if he couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. Most likely he didn't, not completely. Sandra let a weary sigh fall from her lips, not caring if the rest of Blue Team heard it or not.
"Unless there is another ship in-system, which is entirely a possibility," She continued, stressing the fact that all the signs and clues were pointing to a different answer. "But they would have be cloaked, invisible to the Pelican's sensors, or using some other method to avoid detection. The possibility is remote, but…it doesn't look good." Why was it always her that had to deliver the bad news? She felt like Hermes, but only allowed to deliver the shitty memos. The channel was silent, uncomfortably so. It was as if a thick, poisonous smog had seeped into the members of Blue Team, smothering their ability to communicate.
"What about the second problem?" Linda spoke quickly, pointedly ignoring the quiver of seething anger in her voice. The other Spartans kept quiet, but Sandra knew they were also concerned. None of them like surprises, especially during a mission.
"The second we boot Roland up; this place is going to glow like a bloody star. Everyone, and I mean everyone, will know we're here."
"We have our orders, Blue Team." Chief reminded them dutifully. Though he was still addressing the entire team, Sandra still felt small as his golden visor singled her out. "Begin the sequence. We will hold here as long as it takes." Sandra's fingers flew across the keys, throwing a bright orange glow around the inky blackness of the room, clashing horribly with the purple of her armor. She kicked such trivial thoughts aside like the corpse of a grunt. The mission came first. Initiating the sequence, Sandra stepped back from the console, pulling the battle rifle free from the clamps on her back. A small, sad smile ghosted her lips as he hefted the rile in her hands. There were only two things she enjoyed holding more, neither of which were available to her. Choking down a small sigh, Sandra took her place in the dwindling shadows of the core.
The room exploded with light and energy as the Spartan drifted away from the console. The walls themselves seem to pulse with life as the AI was slowly brought back into consciousness. Like the beat of a heart, blue diodes pulsed to the beat of some unknown music. Heavy plating protecting the matrix of the artificial constructed parted, revealing the brain of the AI, which glowed like a small star. The orange tendrils of light seemed to reach almost every nook and cranny of the room, forcing the Spartans' visors to polarize. The matrix hummed with energy, carrying with it a sense of normalcy and relief for those frightened by the silence inside the ship. Conduits and consoles sparked with life as Infinity's AI slowly reconnected with the rest of the systems. Blue Team let out a collective mental sigh as the warship's AI crawled through its reboot sequence. Turns out brining a ship-wide artificial intelligence back online was not as easy as flipping a switch. Minutes passed as the Spartans of Blue Team watched mountains of code fly across their HUDs at a mind-boggling pace, careful to keep an eye out for any encroaching threats.
"Chief, contacts approaching." Fred spoke over the TEAMCOM, almost mechanically. Well that didn't take long, Sandra thought dryly.
"Friendly?" Chief questioned, hints of doubt lingering in his deep tone.
"Considering Blue 5's warning, most likely not." Sandra couldn't help the feeling of pride that welled up inside her. They treated her as one of their own. As to why, that was a mystery for another time.
"Copy that. Prepare to engage." Fred's status light winked green before he cut from the conversation, set on preparing a proper defense with the Marines.
"Chief, I've got multiple contacts rapidly approaching my position. Should I engage?"
"Only if fired upon first."
"Understood." The scout responded stoically.
Chief unslung the assault rifle that clung to his back. Pulling back the bolt to ensure the rifle was loaded and ready to fire, he addressed the only Spartan within speaking distance. "Secure that door, Spartan. If Kelly has to fall back, cover her."
"Yes, sir!" Sandra answered with conviction, offering her commander a quick salute. In protecting her bunny, her skills were second to none. Once they had reclaimed the Infinity, she would tear this ship apart until she found her daughter. No, we will tear this ship apart. Letting her rifle drop to her hip, she picked up one of the hilts attached to her thigh, examining it closely. Let them come. I want to see the look on their faces as I end their miserable lives! The ornate hilts bathed in the ambiance of the AI, as if questioning their wielder's motivations. Chuckling to herself, she replaced the weapon in its housing. You're right, mom. Of course, you are. You always were. Rage can be a powerful weapon if used for the right reasons. But if used indiscriminately, it can have undo, and often times, harsh and drastic consequences. Her mother's words chimed soothingly inside her head as she waited for all hell to break loose.
UNSC Infinity, E-deck
0300 hours
Reilcat's unit had met minimal resistance along the way. The service tunnels that ran along the majority of the Infinity allowed their armor almost unrestricted movement to plow through any UNSC forces that had been foolish enough to mount a feeble attempt at a counterattack. His troops had no trouble eliminating these pockets of rebellion. They would not be denied. Though he would never admit it out loud, the main reason for the Scorpions was intimidation. He was not stupid enough to fire their main cannons inside. Everyone who had ever served on a ship quickly learned that explosives and vacuum did not mix. At. All. Their suits were pressurized, yes, but they had a limited air supply. Haphazardly blowing apart the ship they still stood on was not in his book of acceptable risks to take. Though he could not smother the small smirk that crept up his face at the tanks many other uses, such a battering ram and using its coaxial machine gun to shred the UNSC dogs to pieces.
"Sir."
"What is it?" Reilcat snapped. Undeservingly perhaps, but he didn't really care. All that mattered in the end were that the men and women under his command followed their orders. Their personal attachments meant little to him.
"Castle is dead. Along with all the support you sent with him." The soldier spoke, almost in a whisper, as if his voice alone would draw his superior's ire. To be fair, he had shot messengers in the past.
"All of them?" Reilcat questioned, stopping the soldier from slinking back into the ranks.
"Y-yes." The soldier responded quickly. Reilcat summarily brushed away the urge to correct the young soldier as another thought came to mind. Castle was instructed to intercept Blue Team once they boarded. If he's dead, then that means…
"Sergeant, have any of our forces not reported in?" There were a few minutes of silence as the soldier attempted to contact the remainder of their forces.
"Sir," The soldier spoke up from behind him, "Bravo team's last check-in was at 0100. That was over two hours ago."
"What was Bravo guarding?"
"The AI core, sir." The sergeant answered succinctly.
Reilcat needed to act fast. With Blue Team back in play, the UNSC had a real shot of wrenching control of the flagship from them, ruining months of planning and millions of credits in payoffs and bribes. That could not happen. He would die before he let that over-glorified tin lapdog destroy his chance at revenge.
"Listen up!" He barked over the TEAMCOM. "We split into two groups. Sergeant, take the armor and continue to Engineering. We need those engines under our control. No more than ten. I will take the rest of the troops to secure the AI." There was a shuffling of boots, dampened by his helmet, as ODST and Spartans alike broke into two separate groups. "Move out!" He could feel the determination in their footsteps as they marched through the corridors, deeper into the heart of the ship. Good, he thought. They would need that determination to go up against the legendary Spartans of Blue Team and come out alive on the other side. He would need such determination. But if things went sideways, he would need a backup plan. With a growl, he accepted the private connection that had been chirping angrily in his ear for the past five minutes.
"What!" He snarled. His day not had the best start and had only gone downhill from there. He was tired, irritated, and just wanted this damn mission to be over.
"Watch your tone or this conversation will no longer be private." Reilcat bit his tongue to hold back the scathing words that would surely escape from it if he let them. Ducking underneath a bent bulkhead, he waited impatiently for his ally to continue. Just when Reilcat thought to sever the connection, the man on the other end of the channel spoke again. "I have new terms."
"We had a deal-" Alexander hissed.
"And I am changing it. When you lose, I help you off this ship. Then I disappear. No questions, no tail, no negotiation. Are we clear?"
"I will not lose, but I agree with your terms." The other individual grumbled something under his breath, but Reilcat was unable to discern what was being said. "What about your little 'problem'?"
"They will be indisposed." The voice answered assuredly. Reilcat thought to question his response, but held his tongue. Adding to his problems would not help him now. Besides, William had put great faith in him to complete this operation. Complicating matters would just make it all that more difficult. So, begrudgingly, he stayed silent and cut the private channel. He had bigger problems right now. Signaling the unit to stop, he crouched down bedside a corner that fed into a narrow hallway. Perfect for an ambush. With a series of hand signs, the troops moved quietly, a few scouting ahead of the rest. Their black armor blended in with the darkness that surrounded them, as if they were enshrouded by Death himself. One of them cried out in alarm, the staccato of automatic weapon capturing the last moments of his life before a thunderous boom of an M45 painted the walls with the man's innards and lifted him off his feet, depositing him a few feet away in a crumpled heap.
"Open fire!" he roared, pointing at the assailant, the fire of battle burning within. Almost fifteen weapons let loose, the discharges easily casting enough light to see in the small hallway. The narrow titanium corridor left little room to maneuver, its walls acting as a makeshift bottleneck. Many of the rounds slammed into the shadowy figure, illuminating its position with the recognizable glow of an energy shield. Unfortunately, they ducked behind the next corner as their shields flared and died, temporarily overloaded. Damn it! He cursed to himself as his target retreated into the dark bowels of the ship. He almost had one of the UNSC's poster children dead at his feet. But wishes were getting him nowhere, fast. He had to act if he wanted to parade their corpses before a camera. "What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?! Follow them!" They advanced carefully, because as excited as they were, nobody was eager to get a bullet between the eyes.
Throwing a nervous glance to her two nearest compatriots, an ODST crept quietly around the corner, the rest of the unit behind her. With their night vision, they could see the entrance to the AI core at the end of the hallway. Perhaps intentionally, perhaps not, she let the Spartans overtake her, slowing her steps until she was with the main bulk of the unit. They had the best chance against their enemy in single combat. At least that was how she rationalized the decision as she gripped her rifle so tightly her knuckled turned white. It was unnerving how quiet the ship was. If one stopped to listen, they might be able to hear the air pass through the vents as they delivered precious oxygen to its inhabitants. It was almost peaceful, like breathing in the wonder of an untouched wilderness. Too bad Blue Team had to muck it all up. The soldier's wonderings were shattered when one of the Spartans screamed 'Grenade!' over the TEAMCOM. She hit the ground so hard she could feel something wet on her chin. Her split chin was the least of her worries as the grenade detonated, throwing shrapnel everywhere and making her bones rattle like maracas. The fragmentation explosives were especially deadly in these narrow hallways as the concussive blasts reverberated off the walls, intensifying the blast. Not to mention the narrow corridors left little room to hide from the vicious shrapnel. Throwing the dead aside like yesterday's trash, the survivors recovered their weapons and advanced on the core, covering their movements with heavy bursts of fire.
"Kill those UNSC dogs!" Reilcat roared, his shout somehow carrying from the back of the pack. Emboldened by his words, the unit charged down the narrow hallway with abandon, their feet carrying them forward even as their brothers and sisters were torn apart like piñatas on a child's birthday party. Letting the empty magazine fall to the floor, the soldier dove into a nearby doorway as another grenade flew into the hall. Her closed eyes may have protected her from the blast, but the dull thump of the grenade and wet splat as meaty chunks of her friends slapped against the walls would be burned into her brain forever. ODSTs and Spartans alike rushed past her, weapons weeping lead tears for all of the undeserved deaths these Spartans had inflicted. Her face drained of color as she peeked around the doorway. The floor was covered with blood. Over a dozen soldiers, including a handful of SPARTAN-IVs, were simply gone. Dead. A few had made it into the room, but had been instantly cut down. A few were even smoldering. As for the enemy? They had no casualties, as far as she could tell. That point alone filled her entire being with rage. Scooping her assault rifle into her arms, she stood up, preparing to charge into the room and kill as many of those 'legendary' bastards as she could!
Wait! Her mind screamed, its instinct for self-preservation kicking in.
What!? I am going to go in there and… she began, only to be cut off by the deeper recesses of her mind.
And do what? There are at least four, highly trained, veteran Spartans in there. You might get one round off before they cut you down.
I'll make it count, she retorted, checking the ammo counter on her rifle one last time.
Then what? Throw your life away like all the others?! What would that accomplish, besides a painful end?
That gave her pause. Yes, she wanted to take down her enemies, but she was not about to throw her life away. She would regroup and take the fight to the enemy, but she would have to find her commander first. Looking around the battlefield, she did not see his body. The absence of a body did not mean he was alive, however. Swallowing the uneasy feeling growing in the depths of her gut, she checked the status of her unit. Quickly scrolling through the KIAs, she was pleasantly surprised to find her commander was still alive. Well that's a relief, she thought, accessing his location. Her relief was quickly crushed as the words UNABLE TO LOCATE flashed in front of her eyes. There were only a few reasons for this: damage to the locator (which was practically impossible, due to the fact the tracking device was implanted in the base of his skull), technical failure, or it had been deactivated manually. Due to the fact his vitals were green, the first two seemed highly unlikely. Which meant…
Son of a bitch!
He was running away! Major Reilcat had led them like lambs to the slaughter. Suddenly, her anger towards the UNSC was nothing compared to the unrestrained hatred of being betrayed. Now, Tamara Green was no coward. She had fought bravely against the relentless onslaught of the Covenant and the blatant imperialism of the UNSC, but being thrown away so her commander could get away? It was the straw that broke the camel's back. The irony not lost on her, she took off running back the way she came, silently praying that Blue Team wouldn't shoot her in the back. Her boots fought to find traction on the blood-soaked titanium floor as she scrambled past her fallen comrades, desperate to put some distance between them. Safely tucked away in an abandoned room, Tamara paused to gather her wits and develop a plan. She had no clue where her CO- no, ex-CO- went, only that the lifts were out. This only left hundreds of escape pods and dozens of hangars that spanned the entire flagship. Too big an area to search. And with Roland offline, she had no other means to locate him. Anxiously chewing her lip, she paced back and forth, eagerly hoping that her mind would miraculously figure out his location. After five minutes of frantic brainstorming, she had come up with nothing.
"Ragh! Damn it!"
Glaring angrily at her boots, Tamara was faced with a choice: give up her search, allowing her brothers and sisters have died in vain or pointlessly scour every inch of the Infinity in the hopes of a miracle. However, there was a third option: return to the fight and die fighting for what she believed in. As she had no leads to go on, this was the most sensible idea. The door opened with a soft hiss, and the ODST made her way out into the darkened passages of the ship, tracking the hovering waypoint on her HUD towards Engineering.
UNSC Infinity, E-deck, near Engineering
0320 hours
Amber poked her head around the corner, fearful of what she would find beyond. Four soldiers, black as the night sky, ambled aimlessly around a door. The young Sangheili had been following the kill team for longer than the saurian could keep track of. Like a shadow, she had kept to the darkness, using the suit to blend in to the nothingness that surrounded her. Suppressing a shiver, Amber did admit, disdainfully, that this thing did keep her safe from the bad guys. There had been plenty of places to hide along the way, but something kept pulling her, like a moth to a flame. She didn't know what it was, only that she had to follow it. That is how she found herself now.
What are they doing? She wondered. She expected them to be cackling evilly and dreaming of dastardly plots, like in the vids mother allowed her to watch. Not…standing around. Her mandibles pulled taut in what only could be described as a confused frown as she observed the soldiers with her inquisitive golden eyes. The minutes quickly fell away and still the men continued to mill about. Amber's confused curiosity quickly eroded like the rocks at the bottom of a raging waterfall. This is boring. I better find a spot to hide like the nice soldier told me. The six-year-old's attention could only be held for so long before she lost interest and moved on to something else. Sandra and Kelly had learned this lesson early on as they had to pull her away from annoyed technicians, who were just trying to do their work, and off of more than their fare share of Spartans as their daughter was curious about everything. Her pension for learning new things had only grown over time, much to her exhausted parents' excitement. Mother…mommy…where are you? Forcing down her loneliness with a strained whimper, Amber eased away from the corner, eager to find a safe place once again.
"I thought I saw something following us." Looking up, she came face to face with one of the biggest soldiers she had ever seen. With arms as big as tree trunks and no face to speak of, this soldier looked more beast than man. The ODST glowered down at the unwelcome guest in disgust. He had caught the shadows shifting more than once. At first, he thought it might have been cloaked operative, but they were too raw, untrained. Whatever or whoever this was, they didn't know how to blend in. They stayed out of sight, sure, but if one was looking for odd shaped shadows, they stuck out like a unicorn at a pig farm.
Amber looked up to the man, eyes wide, paralyzed with fear. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would be caught! She should have taken the first hiding spot she came across and remained there until her parents could find her! Her brain screamed for her limbs to run, fight, to do anything! But they refused to budge. Her neurons fired off at a rampant pace, but her muscles refused to accept them. A deep seeded feeling of dread rippled down her spine, chilling her to the bone. And in the deepest recesses of her mind, that all too familiar beast reared its ugly head, eager to feast on the mind of the childling. Maybe he doesn't see me. She thought, tightly gripping on to the rapidly dwindling bundle of hope. Carefully, meticulously, she inched away from the faceless creature, making sure each step she took was planned and precise. Her enemy remained immobile, as if his words were spoken to the darkness itself, an attempt to cull spies from their shadowy abode. Amber got no more than a few feet away before the soldier sprang to life. Lashing out with a left cross, he grazed her faceplate, sending her sprawling across the rigid titanium deck. Pain swept over her face like a tsunami, dragging her beneath its thundering waters and drowning her in fear. She could taste something foul in her mouth and she could feel wetness slowly trail its way down her cheeks in a convoluted pattern, like a climber would scale a treacherous mountain.
"Thought you could sneak away from me, you little brat?" He spoke bitterly, walking purposefully towards the frightened child. In a panic, Amber did the only thing she could think of: she kicked him in the shin as hard as she could and filled the air around her with a shrill, blood-curdling scream that would put a banshee to shame. Almost instantly, the sound of armored boots could be heard thundering down the halls as the other four troopers rounded the corner, their headlamps illuminating the bizarre scene before them.
"What the hell is going on?!"
"What did you do!?"
"By god, it's a kid!"
The arguments fired back and forth until they were just shouting to be heard. Over it all was Amber's ear-piercing scream that seemed to flow effortlessly from her lungs. Silence descended over them as three shots rang out. Even the saurian's screams had shrunk to a low whimper. As the tail end of the gunshots faded into the darkness of the flagship, one of them spoke up, asking the question that had been floating on the tips of their tongues.
"So, uh, what do we do about it?" A male trooper asked, vaguely gesturing to the Sangheili.
"Shoot it." The big one who had hit her spoke simply. Amber curled into a tighter ball, whimpering fearfully as her tears began to flow again. The other ODST either nodded in agreement or said nothing, which he took as a green light. Bringing his M20 to bear, he pointed it squarely at her head.
"Hey!" A female trooper shouted, positioning herself between the child and the ODST. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"What does it look like?" He replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Depending on how you looked at it, it was.
"It looked like you were going to shoot this kid!" She shot back venomously.
"So? Take a look at the damn thing. It's a squid. Why would you protect it?"
"Because it's a child! That's why!" Amber couldn't see, but the soldier was glaring at her compatriots, disgusted with their lack of morality. "Is this the freedom were fighting for!? The freedom to slaughter kids in the street simply because they're different!? You should be fucking ashamed of yourselves!" None of the other ODST could meet her gaze, even shielded by their polarized visors. Shaking her head in disgust, the soldier turned and kneeled before the saurian.
"Are you alright?" She asked softly. Amber lifted her head, gazing into the darkened visor of the soldier. Her head throbbed painfully, as if someone had used her skull as a drum. Not to mention that nasty taste in her mouth had yet to fade. Finally, she missed her parents dreadfully and couldn't help the gnawing pit that had begun to form in the depths of her stomach. So, in conclusion, no, she was not alright. She expressed her discomfort nonverbally with a shake of her head. Concerned, she reached out, intending to comfort her, but yanked her hand back as Amber let loose a low growl.
"Stay away!" She screamed, skittering backwards, terrified of the woman before her. She needed to get away. She needed to find her parents. She wanted to be safe again. Her golden orbs darted around the darkened corridor, desperate for an escape. Heart hammering in her chest like a runaway train, Amber felt her chest constrict painfully as air refused to enter her lungs. The black! The black! THE BLACK! Her mind screamed as she clawed at the seals of her helmet, ferociously pulling on it with all her might. She needed it off. She needed to get away from the black before it consumed her entirely. The hope she had earlier wielded like a torch was no longer useful, just as candle would be quickly extinguished in a raging storm.
Tamara didn't know what was wrong, but she had to help, in any way she could. Batting the alien's frantic hands away as gently as she could, she popped the seals and removed the helmet with a whispered hiss. She sat back as she watched the young saurian take deep gulps of air, as if it was the first she had tasted in days. Golden eyes filled with unshed tears glistened in the glow of her helmet lights. Neither one of them moved, for fear it would break whatever silence had descended upon them. Slowly, Tamara eased herself into a sitting position to relieve some of the pressure on her knees, releasing a tired sigh. Amber looked at her curiously, but said nothing. In truth, she was still scared of the soldier sitting in front of her, but for reasons she didn't understand, she didn't run.
"Thank you." Amber whispered, flexing her mandibles freely in the open air around her. Tamara cringed, somewhat guiltily. Even after all these years, Sangheili mouths still creeped her out. She pushed it from her mind as she addressed the youngling.
"Uh, you're welcome?" She responded. "Are you alright?" She added after a moment, glancing at her motion tracker. It confirmed why it was so quiet: all of the other soldiers had left, leaving them to fend for themselves. Selfish bastards. Though she couldn't blame them for returning to the fight. Amber looked around, as if realizing that they were alone, before refocusing on Tamara.
"Y-yes. Are the space meanies gone?" Space…meanies? The soldier tried to wrap her head around the phrase, but couldn't make heads or tails of it. Shrugging, she pushed onwards, wanting to be on the move again. From the looks of things, this kid was on her own. Besides, she still needed answers from Reilcat.
"Listen kid, where are your parents?" she offered, hoping the prompt would help speed things along.
Amber scrunched up her face in thought, before shrugging unhelpfully. "I don't know. Besides, Mommy told me not to talk to strangers."
Tamara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Both of them needed to get going if they were going to find the saurian's parents. "Well, your mom sounds like a smart woman," she complimented. "But are we strangers if you know my name? I'm Tamara. What's yours?"
Amber looked at her quizzically for a few moments, as if running the woman's logic through her own mind. Eventually, she gave the ODST a warm, albeit hesitant, smile. "My name is Amber."
"Nice to meet you, Amber." The soldier answered truthfully. After dealing with distrust, buried hatred and twisted ideologies for so long, it was refreshing to meet someone as unique as Amber. Even if she was a squid. "We should get going. We wouldn't want to keep your parents waiting, now would we?" she questioned, offering a hand to the young Sangheili girl. With a shake of her head, Amber allowed Tamara to pull her to her feet. The ODST only paused to scoop up the discarded helmet, much to the girl's abject horror, before setting off into the unlit passages of the Infinity.
UNSC Infinity, E-deck
0500 hours
Two sets of SPARTAN-IV boots hammered down the titanium halls at a rapid pace, easily finding traction on the bloodless surface. The fight for Engineering had been a drawn out, ruthless and violent endeavor as they pushed the rebels back inch by blood-stained inch. They had sustained heavy losses, but still managed to retake the engines. As the combat came to a close, UNSC troops offered those fighting under the URF banner an opportunity to surrender. Many, after seeing how many of their brothers and sisters lay dead beside them, their corpses still warm to the touch, lay down their arms. Some of the more zealous troopers took this opportunity to gun down as many of the surrounding enemy as they could. Some were successful, others…not so much. In the melee, Fireteam Oasis found themselves without their leader. Spartan Starr was nowhere to be found and Tiffany was worried.
"I'm telling you, Bretts, it just doesn't sit right with me." The specialist reminded her teammate for the umpteenth time. Doing her best to ignore the unsettling feeling churning in her gut, she pressed on, pushing her muscles to work even harder. Ever since the battle had ended, their team leader was nowhere to be found. And he wasn't answering his coms either. I hope he wasn't ambushed. Though, he was right next to us the entire time. How in the world did we get separated?
"I get where you're coming from, Tiff. All I'm saying is that maybe there's a reason he left without telling us. New orders maybe?" Oasis's tactician responded over their private channel.
"That only included him?" She questioned, glancing to her right. He only offered a haphazard shrug, as if saying 'Maybe. But I doubt it'. Tiffany had her doubts too. She just hoped they could find their team leader before something horrible happened to him. Before the two of them had dashed off to find their third member, they had received word that Blue Team had made it to the AI core and were in the process of rebooting Roland. Tiffany let out a short huff of relief. At least that is one worry off our plates. As they rushed down metal corridor after corridor, it wasn't long until the monotony of it all lulled the woman into a state of reflection. How many years have we been a team? Three? Four? Truth be told, I've stopped counting. We may not be the fastest or the strongest, but there is no one else I would have at my side. Stephen might be a stickler for the rules and Patrick may be a little too kind hearted for this line of work, but those two idiots are the only ones I really trust in a firefight. Come to mention it, Starr has seemed a bit off these last few months. If it concerned the mission, we would have heard about it by now. He doesn't talk about his family, so maybe that's what's bothering him? But to jeopardize the mission? It doesn't seem like him. I may need to talk to him once this is all over and done with…
"There he is, up ahead!" Bretts shouted out loud, snapping the raven-haired woman from her thoughts and catching herself as she stumbled over her own two feet. The blue ANUBIS helmet stared at them in silence as they approached, hand frozen halfway to the door release.
"What are you doing here?" He asked warily.
"We were looking for you, sir." Tiffany answered. "You disappeared on us."
"I can take care of myself, you know." Starr jested, letting his hand fall back to his side.
"We know that well, sir." Bretts said with a chuckle. "Why didn't you answer your com?" At this, Starr seemed to straighten his posture, like a dog would to warn off potential threats.
"Took a nasty hit chasing after what I believe is the leader of this little rebellion." He responded, jabbing his thumb at one of the few hangars located near Engineering. At his declaration, Tiffany's face lit up like a kid in a candy store.
"Are you certain?" She asked excitedly, almost jumping with joy. She had to restrain herself from doing a happy little jig. She couldn't wait till ONI ripped all the nasty little secrets he had stored inside his traitorous little brain. Show this scumbag why nobody messes with the UNSC. "Let's get in there then!" She squealed.
"No!" He demanded, seizing her wrist in an iron grip. "You have your orders, Spartan. Return to Engineering and secure it." Tiffany glared into his opaque visor, bitter words tickling the edge of her tongue. That's a little hypocritical, sir! Luckily Bretts opened his mouth before she could voice any of her less-than-helpful thoughts.
"With all due respect, sir, Engineering is secure. You disappeared, without coms, on a ship full of enemy combatants." He took a short breath before continuing, this time with a noticeable amount of pride in his voice. "Besides, were a team. And what kind of team mates would we be if we didn't help save your ass every time you got yourself into trouble?"
Starr chuckled, shaking his head good naturedly and releasing Tiffany's hand. She grumbled under her breath, wordlessly accepting a few pats on the back as Starr's apology. As the moment passed, Starr motioned for them to prepare for entry. Like a well-oiled machine, they slipped into position with nary a sound. Starr held up three fingers to give them a countdown.
3…
2…
1…
Balling his hand into a fist, Tiffany hit the door release. Artificial lighting slammed into their visors like a battering ram, momentarily blinding them until their visors automatically adjusted. Basking in the florescent lighting of the hangar was a single soldier. Leaning against one of the many standard, green supply crates, was a man in battered ODST armor that had clearly seen years of use. While he wasn't old by any means, the war had taken its toll, turning a youthful young man into a grizzled, cynical veteran. Major Reilcat's stared coldly at the approaching Spartans with his jaded emeralds.
"Did the UNSC send you to fetch me?" He asked directly, though his lightly wrinkled face bore the true weight of his words. The man nearly recoiled in disgust as they left his mouth. Clearly, the man did not think highly of the organization of which he once served. Ironic, considering the position he was currently in. "How predictable. The UNSC always loved to send others to do its dirty work and clean up its messes." He scoffed, clearly not concerned with the three armed Spartans posed to kill him should he attack.
"Alexander Reilcat, you have dedicated yourself to the Army for years," Starr responded, ignoring his original question as he read from his bio. "In that time, you have served with dedication and valor to the best of your abilities. Come with us quietly and I will see how I can help you." At this, Major Reilcat burst out laughing, prompting a glance to pass between two of the Spartans.
"Then you are clearly deluded, Spartan." He said, dropping any sense of pleasantness. "Do you think you have any influence beyond that shotgun you wield? That anything you say will prevent ONI from sinking its shadowy claws into me the second you turn your back? You're only fooling yourself; you have no power. At least, in the position you are in now." His green eyes glinted maliciously as he cast his gaze upon the blue-armored super soldier.
"What the hell are you getting at, you traitorous little shit!?" Tiffany growled angrily, not totally believing what this soldier was implying. She pumped her shotgun for emphasis, not caring that she ejected an unspent shell. She only needed one to blow his grizzled little face to pulp, anyway. Reilcat scowled at the CQC specialist, like she was something unpleasant he had stepped in on the street, before continuing his previous conversation.
"Do you always allow your subordinates to speak to a superior officer in such a manner?" He questioned before shaking his head, as if disregarding it completely. "I suppose it doesn't matter. I know you wanted to find your family. I can help, but only if you honor your end of the deal." A cruel smile broke out over his face as he watched the Spartan stiffen. In all honesty, forcing the Spartan's hand was the last thing he wanted, but Wilhelm would need him for the next stage and Blue Team was still alive and well. Unless he could enlist Starr's help in escaping back to his people, he would be a marked man living on borrowed time. He would not last long alone against the full might of the UNSC. And he really didn't want to spend the rest of those few days in some ONI hellhole that didn't officially exist.
"Sir, what is he talking about? What deal?" Bretts asked cautiously, wanting to turning around to confront his leader directly, but not willing to turn his back on a known enemy. A pained silence descended over the trio of Spartans like a fog, settling heavily on their tongues, obscuring any words that they tried to exhale. But then it happened. It was just a twitch, easily missed if one was not explicitly looking for it. An electrical signal transmitted by the brain to the muscles through a network nerves and connectors to carry out an action. But this action spoke volumes. That day, his action changed the lives of four different people. Quicker than lightning, Spartan Starr brought his shotgun to bear, like he had so many times before…and pulled the trigger.
Come Back Next Time!
First, big shout to my main man MightyMIlkDuds for working his magic on another chapter of mine, making sure I give you guys and gals the best! As of the end of this chapter we are basically done with the Infinity arc! From here it is off to the third and final act of this part of RW. For those of you who have read my bio, you already know, but for those who haven't… there will be a third and final installment in the RW series! After that…I don't know. I guess you'll just have to wait and find out! But hold on to your drinks and keep your tray tables in their upright positions, because there is still lots of Halo action (and romance) to go!
