The Rabbit and the Wolfe
We are up to chapter 10! Hope your ready because this one is the finale of the Infinity arc! After this, the chapters will wind down again in preparation of the final part before the action takes it away again! For those of you who have missed the romance part, don't worry it will be back, just need to get the last hurrah out of the way first. Without further ado, to the story! Don't forget to favorite, follow and review!
10: Through Troubled Eyes
Two years ago…
The olive transport shook as it landed, throwing heavy red sand to the into the breeze. As it settled onto the barren rockface, its engines shuddered with relief, finally able to escape the endless dust that threatened to seal its air intakes and send it plummeting into the canyon below. With a hiss that could only be heard from the inside, the gangplank lowered slowly to the ground, fighting the sands for every inch. No longer shielded from the terrain, the red, gritty sand charged into the open crew bay like a horde of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. The occupants paid it no mind, safely sealed within their armor.
"You know, I'm really starting to hate this stuff." Bretts called out over the TEAMCOM, clearly annoyed with the current weather.
"You and me both, Spartan." Starr added, both amused with his team mate's comment and agreeing with it at the same time.
"Why do we always get the crap jobs, boss?" Tiffany asked. Repeated combat in the sands had left her black armor stained red, giving it an odd coloration and lending credence to the fact she would have to wash it thoroughly before handing it back over to the resident technicians for diagnostics. They may have been good, but they couldn't work miracles. Trying to get any readouts on MJOLNIR armor caked with seven layers of sand would be impossible for anyone.
"Because the impossible is our specialty." Starr spoke, as if reading from an advert. They stood up, filing out before the sands could completely cover the crew cabin. The door rose clunkily behind them, temporarily dictating the Spartan fireteam to the whims of Mother Nature.
"You know, just once," Bretts began, his gold visor seemingly glaring at the sea of red around them. "Just once, I would like to fight the enemy on a nice, warm, sandy beach. Without the ecosystem's natural predators trying to eat me or the weather reducing my vision to a mere few feet." The other two Spartans chuckled heartily.
"What self-respecting bad guy would set up operations on a nice Caribbean beach?" Tiffany joked as they entered the small UNSC outpost, which served as the base of operations and kept them safe from the ceaseless sands.
"The smart kind." Starr added, amidst his own chuckles.
"Right?! I think the UNSC should send out a memo to all of our enemies: LOOKING FOR A SECRET BASE? LOOK NO FURTHER THAN THE NEAREST PRIVATE BEACH! IT'S WARM, SECLUDED, AND BEST OF ALL, THE UNSC WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO FIND YOU!" The other two Spartans just shook their heads good-naturedly at Bretts's childlike enthusiasm at the way he approached things sometimes. Sure, he may have been a Spartan, but he was a child at heart and his Fireteam knew it. Tiffany rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove.
"Come on, we still need to debrief." Starr said, pulling them back on track. The three of them made their way into the outpost, their boots resonating loudly down the largely empty hallways, red crystals of sand trailing behind them like breadcrumbs.
It was not until a few hours later, after they had been debriefed, that the three of them were able to meet up in the mess hall. They all had a chance to get cleaned up and sat at a table by themselves, surrounded by idle chatter.
"So…" Bretts began, poking uninterestedly at his food with his fork. "We have leave coming up, what are you all going to do?" Tiffany and Stephen paused in their meals to look at one another before refocusing their attention on him.
"You asked. You first." They said in unison, making the tactician shrink under their combined gaze.
"Uh, yeah…I guess that's fair." He said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Mom and Dad have a ranch on a small little planet called Bananatopolis. Thought I would-"
"Wait, wait, wait!" Stephen said excitedly, holding up his hands to stop his any further words from the tactician. "Am I supposed to believe you hail from a planet called Banana…topolis?" Bretts guffawed, shaking his head.
"No, sorry. That's what the locals call it. Its actually a small outer colony world called Hacaria. Big banana producer. My parents own a ranch. Thought I would drop by and pay them a visit. Surprise them. Its been a few years since I've seen them. What about you, Tiff?" He finished, turning to the only female in the fireteam.
"Heh, always figured you for the small-town kind of kid." She said, looking anywhere but at him. "Less farm boy, more…big man-child." He frowned, slightly hurt by her words. Butterflies exploded in her stomach. Damn crushes. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she continued. "I could go home. My parents would throw me a big, lavish party. But I'm sick of high class society. I'd be miserable the entire time. After I volunteered for the service, my parents and I stopped seeing eye to eye on a lot of things. I don't know if they would even want me to come home…" As she drifted off into quiet reflection, the team noticed how quiet it had become. Many others had left, leaving a few filled tables scattered about the room which lowered the amount of noise considerably.
"What about you, boss?" Bretts asked, trying to break the silence and relieve some of the awkwardness that had descended upon them. Their team leader was quiet for a few minutes, calmly eating what was left of his lukewarm meal, before electing to respond.
"Most of my family is dead. The only ones I care about are gone, vanished. There isn't anything to discuss." They could see the emotions churning behind his eyes, wishing desperately to escape. But like a dam holds back water, Stephen kept his emotions contained. Without waiting for any further conversation, he left the table, leaving his two subordinates worried and confused.
"Must be a touchy subject." Bretts pointed out unhelpfully.
"Yeah. Must be…" Tiffany answered absentmindedly, letting her words settle in the empty mess hall. She watched him disappear from sight before turning back to her companion, a marginally apprehensive look still plastered on her face. Though the two Spartans continued their conversation, they rarely brought up the subject of family when their commander was around. The few times it did come up, Starr quickly changed the subject. He never elaborated on what happened to his family and they didn't ask.
If only they had. Then things might have turned out differently…
December 4, 2561- Present day
UNSC Infinity, E-deck
0520 hours
It all went down so slowly. Or was that just tricks that the mind played to alter one's concept of perception to make a singular moment last longer than what it really was? It was like everyone was moving through honey, only this memory wasn't sweet. It wasn't coated in sugar, meant to be enjoyed, relished and shared amongst friends and relatives like a large package of sweets. No. it was a vile, horrendous and nightmare-inducing monstrosity that would haunt them all until the day they met their end. They would all have to learn to live with the consequences of their actions, as the weight of taking another life is never an easy one to bear.
Tiffany didn't hear the shotgun go off. She felt it, in every fiber of her being. The trigger being pulled. The moment of impact with the 8-gauge shell. The resounding boom of the chain reaction shook her to her very core. She expected the next moment to be her last, to feel indescribable pain before Death took her away. But she felt nothing. Movement at the farthest peripherals of her vision yanked her attention away from the smirking man before her. Craning her head to see, her mouth dropped and refused to close as she stared on in in absolute horror as her world fell away.
Spartan Bretts, a dedicated soldier and a trusting friend, let his rifle slip from his fingers. It clattered to the floor, but it made no noise. All Patrick could hear was the blood pumping in his ears. Strangely, he felt lighter, almost like he could touch the clouds. Feeling something tugging at his subconscious, he reached up to his chest. Where solid metal should have resided, there was only a sticky, open hole that throbbed weakly. With heavy-lidded eyes, he dragged his neck down to see what all the fuss was about. He could see something on his hand, but it was difficult to determine exactly what it was. His brain was shutting down, overcome with shock, but he was intent on finding out what that liquid was on his hand before he closed his eyes. He was tired after all. Oh, so tired. He just needed a short nap then he would be back on his feet, right as rain. Bretts fell to his knees, his teal armor collapsing under the strain of its own weight. In the distance he could hear voices, maybe shouting, or maybe whispering. But they were muted, dull and so, so far away…
Blinking away the encroaching blackness like an adventurer would wave a torch around a cave to scare off bats, he used these few precious moments to look directly at the bright red juice pooling on the floor under him. The answer was on the tip of his tongue, he knew what it was but he just couldn't remember! It was starting to irk him, and to make things worse the sleepiness was back and more insistent this time around. It called to him like a siren's melody, lulling him, gently encouraging him to come towards the darkness. That it was safe. Warm. That they would protect him. Patrick wanted to go with them, he really did, but wanted to solve this riddle of the mysterious substance first! Closing his eyes, he thought hard, rifling through his memories as fast as he could dreg them up. His body had begun to finally shut down, irreparably destroyed by the sheer amount of tissue damage and blood loss. His armor tried to compensate with biofoam and stimulants, but it was like trying to patch a sinking ship: hopeless. As the soft melodies began to drag him away, he finally remembered what it was called: blood. At this, he came to a sudden realization. Oh, I've been shot. This was his final thought as the remains of his lungs and heart gave one last heave in exertion, one final gasp for air, before falling silent for all eternity.
The specialist saw her brother fall, watched helplessly as his armor toppled unceremoniously into its own innards. Her mind was frozen, as if caught in outside all night in a blizzard. Teal clashes horribly with that shade of red, her broken mind thought aimlessly. Perhaps it wasn't that the colors clashed, so much as the red was not supposed to be there. Certainly, not in that kind of quantity. She stood on, immobilized, as Starr pumped his M45, already searching for his next target.
Um, excuse m-
Wha- what happened? Another part of her mind stammered, interrupting the earlier train of thought.
Listen, I don't think this is the best-
Is… is he dead?!
Really, now isn't the best time to be doing this… Her instincts warned, eyeing the barrel slowly shift towards her.
There is so much I still wanted to say to him! So much left unfinished! Why is he gone now!?
Out of nowhere, her instincts lashed out, slapping her consciousness as hard as it could. Surprised, not to mention mildly afraid, it stared on in silence as her instincts finally got their turn to speak. Listen! We can cry, moan, grief, bitch or whatever the hell you do when you lose someone! But we can't do that if we're fucking dead! If you don't move now, and I mean right now, he will splatter us all over the damn walls! Do you want that!?
N-no! Her consciousness quickly shot back. Moving quickly, she ordered the brain to send signals to the muscles. Apparently, it was not fast enough, because her instincts screamed at her once more.
MOVE YOUR PETITE ASIAN ASS, SPARTAN!
She leapt to the side, her muscles straining from the effort. Only…she wasn't fast enough. Starr knew her too well; he could anticipate her every move. Quicker than the blink of an eye, he shifted his footing and sent an 8-gauge shell her way. The blast hit her like a sledgehammer and sent her tumbling across the deck. Elation filled her for but a fraction of a second, the time it took for her brain to register the pain. The blaring alarms and warning which screamed at her like a banshee went overlooked as her mind was only able to register one thing: pain. A blood-curdling scream was ripped from her lungs as her brain was overwhelmed with sensory information. Tiffany's MJOLNIR armor raced to compensate for the immense stress, injecting stimulants and coagulants, as it fought to seal the injuries with biofoam. It felt as though her arm had been dipped into ionized plasma, burning so hot her brain believed it was frozen. Everything was muffled, muted. Colors blended together until all she could see were blurry images that shifted from side to side like an old hologram. She could vaguely see the trail of blood and tissue that led to her current resting place as her brain slogged through the swirling mass of sensory input. Her eyes fluttered open as her implants fought to keep her alive, drifting in and out of consciousness. All the while a murky figure drifted closer.
Starr had watched her pathetically roll across the hangar with a mix of sadness and frustration. He was sorry it had to come to this, but if they had just followed his orders both of them would still be alive. Sighing ruefully to himself, he stepped over the mangled remains of Tiffany's arm. It had been a very clean shot, if he said so himself. The majority of the shell had ripped through her shoulder, shattering the bones and severing the muscles within. He walked through the pool of fluids, sending soft ripples through the mix of blood, biofoam and hydrostatic gel. Coming to a stop above her, he pumped his shotgun to chamber another shell, the old one falling to the floor with a soft but distinguishable clack. She would be dead in under an hour, he knew that, but as he pointed his weapon at her chest, the leader of Fireteam Oasis just couldn't pull the trigger. He didn't know why, but he just looked at her. Tiffany's chest shakily rose and fell with each breath, her brain subduing or suffocating all other processes to focus on its survival. Without moving his head, he glanced down at where her arm used to be. In its place was a gnarled stump of torn flesh and bone, though one could not tell from the amount of foam covering the wound. This was the only way to find my family. I'm sorry. Without uttering a word, he turned and marched over to Reilcat, who was still patiently leaning against the crate.
"You done?" He spoke, throwing a disgusted look at the bodies of the other two members of Fireteam Oasis.
"Affirmative." Starr replied, climbing aboard the waiting Pelican, not bothering to look back. Reilcat quickly followed him aboard, activating the door controls to seal them inside.
"The coordinates are already programmed. There will be a Prowler waiting on-station. From there, just head to the rendezvous. My employer will be more than happy to part with whatever you require." Reilcat continued, sealing his helmet and strapping himself into the copilot's seat. Starr elected to remain reticent as he powered up the Pelican, practically sprinting through the preflight checks. Reilcat couldn't blame him for wanting to escape his choice as fast as possible. Though his resentment for the UNSC may run deep, even he doubted he had the strength, or stomach, to do that to his own team, no matter the potential reward. He had no words for the Spartan. What could he say? The man had just murdered his teammates in cold blood for a change to find his birth family. So, he chose the wiser path and kept his mouth shut. The UNSC was still alive and kicking after all. That needed to change. The whine from the engines rose to a dull roar as the Pelican rose from the deck. The hangar momentarily flooded with cyan light as the dropship blasted out into the vast expanse beyond.
UNSC Infinity, C-deck, Bridge
1020 hours
Lasky sat in his chair, massaging his creased brow slowly, trying to relieve the building headache. The past few hours had been a nonstop stream of arrests, repairs and paperwork. He could feel the wound on his head beginning to throb once more, less painful after it had been cleaned and bandaged but still as insistent. As if it was reminding him of something he had forgotten to do. And with a list as big as the one he was currently staring at, he would be surprised if he wasn't forgetting something. He felt something heavy fall on his shoulder and give a reassuring squeeze. Craning his neck around, he looked into the cyan visor of Commander Palmer, giving her a small smile. To him, it felt more like a grimace.
"How are you holding up?" She asked. From the tone of her voice, he guessed any answer that was not the absolute truth would not be well received.
"Would you believe me if I said I was fine?" He answered, injecting as much humor as he could. Which, given the situation, wasn't much.
If her crossed arms were anything to go by, she didn't. "That's not funny, Tom. We have a lot of work ahead of us. I-We can't have you burning out." He did smile a bit at that. Even in spite of the glare the Commander surely sent his way.
"I won't, promise." There were a few tense moments of silence before Palmer uncrossed her arms and relaxed. Well, as relaxed as one could be in a post-mutiny situation.
"A moment, Captain." Roland's calm voice spoke as his avatar winked into existence on the holotable.
"How are we looking Roland?" Lasky asked, dreading the answer. In truth, it was good to hear his voice again. The silence had been unnerving and got to him more than he would care to admit.
"To put it plainly, sir, were still sitting ducks. We have limited engines, weapons and communications, with more systems coming online with every passing hour. But its slow going. The URF really made a mess of the place. My systems still aren't operating at one hundred percent, but reports indicate there are still pockets of resistance, infighting, mechanical issues…the list goes on and on." He paused a moment, the AI equivalent to collecting his thoughts, before addressing Lasky once more. "The way I see it Captain, the only viable option we have at this point is to return to Earth. It's the only colony capable of repairing and resupplying the Infinity, not to mention they have the resources to vet and approve every person aboard this vessel." Lasky tapped his chin in thought as the AI's voice faded and his avatar winked out. Roland was right. This was going to be a monumental task, no matter what way he looked at it. Though one thing was clear: without help it would be neigh insurmountable.
"What do you think, Commander?"
Palmer rolled her shoulders, like she was prepping for a bout of CQC training before answering. "Roland is right, sir. The longer we stay out here, unprotected and without viable communications, the more danger we put ourselves in. Earth is our only choice, though I am unsure about the integrity of the hull-"
"The hull will hold, Reclaimer. With some of the adjustments we have made to the shields, a single slipspace jump is possible." Aura chimed in, completely ignoring the Commander's growl at being interrupted.
"Adjustments? Aura what do you me- You know what? It's probably better that I don't know what the two of you have been doing down there." Came Lasky's knowing but exasperated reply.
"No offence, sir, but it is probably for the best that you don't. Dr. Glassman and the other engineers aren't exactly happy either." Cortana added warily.
"We can sort those problems out later. Right now, I just want our engines back online." They acknowledged his orders before cutting the channel to get back to work.
"Roland, how long before we can get moving again?" Lasky asked, feeling his headache worsening by the minute. He needed to lie down and rest. One of the ship's doctors ordered that he receive at least eight hours of sleep. So far, he had managed less than three. Not a good start.
"At least six to twelve hours. A day at most." Great. Just what I need. Another headache.
"Get some rest, sir. I can handle things here." Palmer said, resting her hand on his shoulder once again. Lasky gave her a small smile and a nod. He could count on her to keep things running smoothly and she was smart enough to wake him if she was unable to do so by herself. But he had one last order to give before going to bed.
"See to it that Blue Team gets some rest." He continued in spite of the curious brow she surely had raised behind her visor. "You have my authority on that one, Sarah." That brought a chuckle out of the Commander. They both knew how stubborn those Spartans could be. Rising from his chair, Lasky made his way off the bridge, saluting those he passed. Ugh. That's one headache off my plate. But the situation with Halsey will need to be dealt with sooner rather than later before Spartan Wolfe…clashes with the doctor's…determined personality. But that can wait. Time to get some sleep, just like the doctor ordered. Slipping inside his quarters, he paused only long enough to remove his boots before crawling into bed and quickly falling into an exhausted slumber.
USNC Infinity, S-deck
1030 hours
Kelly anxiously shifted from foot to foot, guarding their rear, as they swept through another maze of connected rooms and passages. After bringing Roland back online and surviving the ensuing onslaught, the Spartans were tasked with culling that remaining pockets of resistance and locating survivors. In actuality, however, they were only really looking for one particular individual: Amber. She wouldn't rest until she found her daughter, as long as it was within the confines of the mission. The mission. She had quickly come to hate that part of herself, the soldier within, when it came to her daughter. Or was it the soldier part of her resenting the fact that she had a liability, a daughter? This conflict raged within her like two great armies going to war, always trying to overpower the other, force them to see things from their point of view. But it was the young Sangheili that allowed her to see a different side of the war, of herself. A part that she had almost forgotten existed. A collection of distant memories that smelled of honeysuckle and rosemary. Ones which radiated with laughter, sunshine and the feeling of freshly cut grass beneath her bare feet. A different life, something which she didn't think was possible until she met Sandra. The blonde, in all of her frustrating, obnoxious and (admitted only in private) sexy glory, had shown the veteran scout what it was like to be loved and wanted. She would go to the ends of the Earth (and beyond) to protect her family. She would not stop to rest until she found her beautiful little daughter.
"Blue Team, do you copy?" The Commander's voice crackled over the com.
"This is Sierra 117. Go ahead, Commander." Chief's deep voice rumbled back.
"Get some rest. At least six hours. This is a standing order from Captain Lasky." Kelly had to bite her tongue to hold back the growl the raced to the front of her throat. She needed to find Amber: she wouldn't be able to sleep soundly without her joyful presence. Her silence did not extend to the entirety of the team, as she could hear muttered, indistinguishable curses emanating from the youngest member of Blue Team.
"Understood. 117, out." The crackle of the damaged com line cut out sharply, signaling the end of the conversation. Kelly could feel the anger begin to churn within her, black and consuming, like tar. She only wanted one thing, one! And she couldn't have it! Amber was close, she could feel it. It wasn't something she could see, or even describe, she just knew. Clutching Oathsworn in a vain attempt to comfort herself, she waited impatiently for the others to return.
Sandra walked next to her as the five of them made their way back to the armor bay. Though most of the fighting had come to a bloody conclusion, they remained alert all the same. Lowering their guard could easily land them with a bullet to the back of the skull. None of them mentioned it, but they could all feel a rift of mistrust and anger divide those aboard the flagship. Soldiers watched their fellow man and woman with the same amount of suspicion as they would a cornered animal. If a goal of this Wilhelm Sundance and his URF cell had been to sow mistrust, he had succeeded, brilliantly. She felt someone bump her side, nudging her from her dark thoughts. Glancing over, Kelly caught the blonde's hands as they flowed soundlessly through the air. So graceful, beautiful.
'Are you ok?' Kelly mulled this question over. For a split second she thought to deflect or lie about her problems, bury them under her training and veteran demeanor. But how would that help? If anything, it would just add to the growing list of Sandra's worries. The last thing she wanted to do was worry the woman further. So, with a deep breath, she revealed her true thoughts to the shorter Spartan.
'No.' She signaled with a quick hand gesture. It was still difficult to open up about certain things, but unsurprisingly, it became easier with each passing day with her angel by her side. Sandra shot a glance to the others before leaning in close to her. Kelly felt that familiar warmth rise in her chest, longing to reach out and just hold her, even if it was for just a moment.
"Anything I can do?" Sandra whispered just loud enough for the scout to pick up, her voice ringing with concern.
'Hold me. Please.' Kelly gestured rapidly, knowing full well how uncharacteristically vulnerable she was being, and it scared her. Her control was slipping with each passing minute as the unknown fate of their daughter gnawed away at the training and implants, like a lion would a carcass. The swordswoman's stumble was quick, hardly breaking the stride of her armored boots. But Kelly could see the confliction written clear across her tinted visor, the twitch of her hands as they yearned to reach out and comfort the older Spartan, soothe her worries away. Throwing caution to the wind, Sandra reached out and gave her lover's hand a quick squeeze. It wasn't much, but it offered an instant of contact, something she had been desperately craving ever since they boarded the Infinity, no matter how deplorable or pathetic it sounded to the soldier within.
"Contact." Chief called out over the TEAMCOM, bringing the Spartans to a halt. The corridor was largely lit, with only a few pockets of darkness established with blown-out lighting. In one patches of darkness lurked a lone figure. They had undoubtedly spotted the Spartan team, but oddly enough, had neither engaged nor ran for the hills.
"Options?" Linda questioned, not taking her eyes from the scope that was centered on the creature's head. Though they had been given orders to get some rest, the Commander never said when they had to get their sleep, only that they had been required to recuperate for at least six hours. Engaging this individual was still within the boundaries of the mission. With that in mind, Chief made his decision.
"Stay sharp." Status lights winked green as he took a step forward, rifle raised, finger hovering over the trigger. "Identify yourself." His voice echoed down the metal passage, reverberating off the titanium like a tuning fork. Hushed and hurried words greeted their ears as the figure spoke with someone else out of sight. He only caught a few words of the conversation before the figure stepped out into the light, weapons raised. An assault rifle in one hand and a magnum in the other, it wasn't practical for a non-Spartan, but would intimidate most people into backing off. Unfortunately, the Master Chief was not most people. The figure was adorned in ODST armor, black as the darkness they had come from, the opaque visor not giving any hint to the identity behind it.
"I won't let you take her." The figure finally spoke in a hostile but distinctly feminine tone, ignoring Chief's initial question and taking a few cautious steps further into the light. Linda and Fred shared a glance as the final two members felt their hearts climb into their throats. Could it be? But no matter how much they wanted to know, they kept their tongues in check.
"Take who?" Chief replied, undertones of curiosity creeping into his words.
"You can have her over my dead body, UNSC bastards!" The woman snarled, not providing any further information. John was quickly becoming frustrated by the woman's lack of information, not to mention the threat she still posed to his team.
"Stand down." He tried again.
"Like hell I will." She growled out, edging back towards the darkness. John couldn't let her go as she could jeopardize others aboard this vessel. It was a shame he had to end yet another life he had sworn to protect but the safety of this ship was a mission he would see to the end, no matter the cost. The muscles in his hand contracted, like they had thousands of times before, but a voice stopped him mid-pull.
"Is it safe?" Six visors lasered in on the quiet voice that sprang from the shadows. Kelly and Sandra felt relief flood their veins like nothing they had ever experienced before. Like a storm surge, it raged from the depths, drowning out all of their fears until only one emotion emerged from the waters. There were a hundred questions they wanted to ask, but they had to get their daughter back first. That was easier said than done.
"No! It's- How did you- Go! RUN!" She screamed, almost panicking now. She opened fire on the Spartans: a few shots bounced off their shields, forcing them to shimmer like rippling, golden water, but most of them went wide. Clearly, the technique was no more than a show of force, as the weapons clattered to the ground shortly after she disappeared. None of them returned fire, although some were less than eager about the pacifistic approach.
"Chief?" Kelly questioned, the request for permission remaining unspoken, but there nonetheless. Sandra would have added something, but she was too busy trying to bore holes into the sniper with a nasty glare. To her, Linda's lack of hesitancy at blowing the soldier's skull into teensy pieces in front of their daughter was a big no-no in her book. Amber already had enough traumatic experiences to last a lifetime: she didn't need any more nightmares. Linda was not one to back down easily, firing an equally icy one back at the shortest Spartan.
"Go." The words hadn't even left his mouth before two sets of boots thundered down the halls like a runaway train. Kelly and Sandra knew how much noise they were making, they just didn't care. Amber was so close, within their grasp. Worry, which had plagued them both for days began to lift from their hearts. But they wouldn't truly be happy until they held her in their arms once more. And if they had to go through an army to do it, so be it. No price was too high for their little angel.
"Was that wise, Chief?" Linda asked over the TEAMCOM, still blinking blankly at the empty space that held a purple Spartan not moments before. John gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, nonverbally voicing his uncertainty. Honestly, he didn't know if he made the right decision or not, but he had made a choice and was going to stand beside it, no matter the consequences. Lasky and Cortana had both reminded him that soldiers aren't machines, they're just people. Just people… Perhaps that was why he allowed Kelly and Sandra to rescue their daughter. Perhaps it was some shred of humanity that still existed within him. Or it could have been something else entirely. Maybe it was time to talk to Cortana about which one of them was truly the machine…
"We have our orders, Blue Team." He ordered, resuming their pace to the Spartan armor facilities. Fred and Linda fell into step behind him. With any luck, Sandra and Kelly would be back before the Commander or anyone else got wise of the women's plans.
Tamara sprinted down the passages as fast as her legs would carry her. She could feel the sweat begin to trickle down her sides and the lactic acid build in her legs. But she didn't stop, she couldn't. it was her duty to keep this young child safe from harm, especially from the UNSC. In all honesty, the Spartans of Blue Team would probably do nothing more than to relocate her, but that didn't stop her mind from warping those scenarios from within, twisting them like the gnarled branches of a dead tree. As if called by a sixth sense, Amber reared her head from the soldier's chest, looking into the eyes that lay behind the polarized visor.
"I'm sorry. You told me to be quiet, but I-I got curious…and-and…" She whimpered, somehow still loud enough to hear over the blood pumping in her ears and what sounded like a herd of elephants rampaging through the underbrush behind her.
"It's alright. We all make mistakes." Tamara replied with a grunt as she repositioned the young Sangheili in her arms. It was still surprising how heavy the young alien girl was. Amber nodded and tightened her grip around the ODST, weather in fear of losing her grip or some other reason, Tamara couldn't tell. But the woman did hear the ear-splitting scream that blasted from the alien's lungs as one of the Spartans smashed through the doors right behind her, sending shards of metal outward. Man, that girl had some serious lungs on her! Chancing a glance backward, she immediately regretted it. Cloaked in the glow of the energy swords, the Spartan looked like the replacement for Death. The only thing missing is the cloak and the scythe. But the super soldier didn't need them. No, she was absolutely terrifying, even without the accessories. The red glow that seemed to surround the soldier in an aura of hatred and malice that Tamara was certain was aimed solely at her. The purple color of the Spartan's armor was no longer visible, swallowed up angry glow of the blades and snuffed out by the shadows that surrounded them.
"Oh shit!" Tamara shouted, forcing her legs to go faster. Amber said something in response, but her words were lost in the chaos. Keep running girl! Don't stop! Her mind chanted to her in support. Her lungs felt like they were swallowing lava, they burned so bad. Her legs screamed, pleaded, for her to stop. But they were they only thing keeping the ODST from meeting what would surely be a painful, agonizing end at the ends of those swords. Tamara knew she couldn't outrun the Spartan, but perhaps if she could…
Her breath caught in her throat as she felt her legs kicked out from under her. On instinct, she curled tightly around the Sangheili child, protecting her from the brunt of the impact. Tamara landed painfully on her back, hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs, even through the armor. throwing caution to the wind, she let go of Amber as she completed her rotation. Amber would have a few scrapes and bruises, but at least she wouldn't be crushed under the woman's weight. Opening her arms, Amber let out a squeak in surprise before she was tossed further down the passage as if she weighed nothing more than a feather. Damn it! She mentally cursed herself as she waited for oxygen to return to her. The woman was so focused on the Spartan with the energy swords she had completely forgotten the fact that their may have been more than one.
"Check on her." Sandra said, stepping into her field of vision, hovering over her with her crossed blades a safe distance from her throat. Kelly stepped over the dazed ODST, closing the distance in a few quick steps, and gently scooped Amber into her arms.
"Amber?" Kelly said softly, worry gnawing at the back of her mind. If this woman had hurt her in any way… Those thoughts were quickly shoved aside as a tired groan escaped Amber's mandibles.
"Mommy? Mommy, please let me sleep. I'm tired." She started, exhaustion evident in her tone. Closing her eyes for just a few moments, Kelly's mouth twitched upwards in a smile as she continued to run her thumb soothingly across her head. "MOMMY?!" She shrieked, catching all three women by surprise. Sitting up in the scout's arms at a speed even Kelly would be jealous of, she wrapped her arms around her mommy's neck in a vice-like grip as she shook with noisy sobs. "M-M-Ms. Tamara said we might never find you! I was so scared. There were so many teri-turi-bad people!" She interrupted her story with bouts of fierce nuzzling and leaving a lingering coat of saliva on Kelly's visor from her kisses. There would be plenty of time for playful nips later.
"Your safe now, little one. No one can hurt you anymore." Kelly reassured her, squeezing her just a bit tighter and gently nuzzling into her daughter's chest. Truthfully, it didn't feel real with her helmet still attached, but until they were safe it would have to do. The scout was still riding an emotional high, so overcome by the outpouring of emotions her muscles were twitching. But she didn't care: they would calm in time. Most importantly, she had her daughter back. Kelly stood up, taking great care not to aggravate any unseen injuries their daughter may have. Taking a few unsteady steps over to her lover, she passed their greatest treasure off to their other half, before focusing her gaze and what was most certainly an unhealthy amount of cold ire towards the soldier on the ground. To their credit, she had not moved, only silently shifting her gaze between the two Spartans. Unclipping Oathsworn from her back, she pointed it at the soldier, no, Tamara, her finger being the only thing standing between the ODST and an 8-gauge shell.
Eventually, Sandra returned, Amber safely cradled within her arms. Still wide awake, she seemed to have calmed down somewhat, though one really couldn't see past the tear-stained face and megawatt smile that threatened to split her mandibles in two. Turning only enough to see her pup out of the corner of her eye, the two Spartans quickly became engaged in a silent conversation of rapid hand gestures and subtle movements. It was all a little strange to Tamara, a conversation without words. Its like they were two halves of the same person. Interesting, but kind of creepy. But there was one question she still needed an answer to. Swallowing the fear that surged at the fact she was literally staring down the barrel of a shotgun, she cleared her throat loudly, pulling the Spartans from their conversation.
"I have a question to ask. Answer that, and I'll do whatever you want, no questions asked." The two Spartans exchanged a look so quick that Tamara swore she would have missed if she blinked. The purple one took a half step forward and addressed her.
"And if we don't?" Sandra answered, her tone challenging, yet somehow uncondescending. Even with Amber in her arms, they all knew who had the upper hand.
"I'll still do whatever you want, no questions. I just want to know." Sandra mulled it over for a few moments. Coming to her own conclusion, she opened her mouth, but Kelly beat her to the punch.
"Ask." Kelly spoke up from behind her lover. Coming from a SPARTAN-II, it sounded more like an order than a confirmation. But a yes was a yes.
"Are you really her parents?" She knew the answer was stupidly obvious at this point, but she still had to know. Somehow the idea of Spartans, especially ones of Blue Team's caliber, to be parents…it just felt…odd to her.
"Yes." Sandra answered, pulling her daughter closer to her MJOLNIR armor.
"I take it that's not the full story."
"The Captain will want to have a word about your…involvement." Kelly fired back bitterly, completely ignoring the ODST's question. Frowning behind her visor, she stood up, placed her hands behind her head and interlaced her fingers. She had seen the child to her parents, as surprising as it turned out to be, and completed her mission. Revenge would have to wait for another time. She had not taken more than a step when a hand landed heavily on her shoulder. Tamara could have almost called the woman's voice seductive, if it were not for the blatantly threatening tone.
"Thank you for finding our daughter," She began, before pausing to ignite one of the plasma swords clipped to her hips, bringing the weapon close enough to Tamara's face that she could feel the heat radiating off of it. And try as she might, she couldn't keep her emotions at bay, as her body shivered with fear. "but if you try anything, or I find out that you hurt her in any way. I will hunt you down and flash-boil your limbs one by one until nothing remains. Are we clear?"
"Like fucking glass, ma'am." Tamara responded automatically. She let out a breath as the woman removed her hand from her shoulder, but kept the sword lit. The light shove came from nowhere, sending the ODST stumbling forward. Regaining her footing, Tamara continued forward, keenly aware of the very big, very pointy dagger behind her.
"Move." Sandra added unnecessarily. Now that the final two Spartans had got what they came for, it was time to return and get some much-needed shut eye. Though this time, the three of them would be able to sleep peacefully in each other's arms. They had their daughter back: the rest they could figure out later.
Come Back Next Time!
Yay, our lovely ladies' little trio is finally back together! Sorry this took me so long to get out. I was busy with other things and just didn't have the urge to write. But when I got it, I decided I was going to finish out chapter 10 for all of you. I know that you have been patient, and I thank you, here is a chapter as a reward for all the waiting you have shown! And that concludes the Infinity arc of this story! There will be a little more included in the next chapter, but it will be in setup for the third and final arc of RW2 (or RW:CL is the official acronym). Let me know what you guys and gals think. See you all next time. Peace!
Quick note: For those wondering about Sandra smashing through the door, just think about Spartan Charge (look it up if you don't know what that is).
