The Rabbit and the Wolfe
Welcome to the final chapter in the Crimson Legacy arc of the RW series! To all of you who have made it this far, either just following my story or leaving a comment, thank you. It means a lot to me that people read and appreciate all the hard work and long hours I put into creating this lovely AU world. But it's not just me. MightyMilkDuds has done one hell of a job keeping my work focused, free of errors and excessive descriptions. Without him, it wouldn't be anywhere near as good as it is now! But enough of my prattling! Onward, to the good stuff!
23: At Long Last
January 9, 2562
Bay 2, Great Lakes Spaceport
United Republic of North America, Earth
Sol System
1045 hours
Captain Lasky looked on hopefully as another shuttle took off, its sleek, grey figure cutting through the morning air like a knife. Its destination: the crippled Infinity, where the flagship was undergoing extensive repairs in geosynchronous orbit high above the surface of Humanity's homeworld. Even from the ground, he could see his home away from home, a needle-like sliver of matte grey surrounded by miles and miles of blue, as if it was adrift in the ocean. The infinity was his home; its crew was his family. Until they weren't. The sting of betrayal cut deeply, forcing him to look away. He sighed deeply. squeezing the railing in an effort to calm himself. It did little to lift the heaviness in his heart.
"They really beat the hell out of her, huh?" Lasky jumped at the unexpected voice, but quickly recovered.
"They sure did." He said joylessly, staring off towards the Greater Chicago Industrial Zone, monoliths of polycrete, steel and glass stretching towards the heavens as the city buzzed with activity.
"Tom, if you continue to blame yourself for this, I swear on my life, I will toss you off this balcony." Turning his head to look at his XO, he raised a brow at her concerned frown.
"How come whenever you attempt to comfort me it involves grievous bodily harm?"
"People tend to be more receptive under duress." She stated simply. They fell quiet after that, neither one willing to discuss it further. The starport was extremely busy today as dozens of supply ships joined the already crowded skies littered with civilian and military aircraft. A lone pelican, it's nose and tail painted in the purist white, weaved between the vessels that dotted the sky, thrusters roaring heartily as they gulped down massive amounts of air. Locking into a steep dive, the craft seemingly plummeted towards the earth with no hope of recovery. But just before it reached the point of no return, the nose bucked upwards allowing the pilot to 'drift' across the tarmac, it's aft thrusters just a scant few feet above the pavement. Rotating the nozzles one-hundred-eighty degrees, the transport craft slowly bled off speed until it was safe enough to land, dropping the ramp before the landing struts ever touched solid ground. The medical staff disembarked with several stretchers between them, but even from this distance, Lasky could see the definite waver in their gait.
"That was foolish and dangerous." Palmer stated, distaste coating her observation. "Someone could have been killed."
"What do you expect when you ask a combat pilot to ferry troops to the surface?" The corner of his lips curled into a small smile. That pilot was going to get one hell of an ass chewing for pulling a stunt like that. Combat pilot or not, those kinds of maneuvers are extremely dangerous in a non-combat situation.
"What do you want to bet that's Erikson?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest. Lasky honestly couldn't tell whether she was mildly impressed or annoyed at the pilot's landing. Probably a bit of both. In any case, he wasn't about to ask.
"Damn well better not be." He grumbled, his lips now a thin line. "They all know better than to fly like that with wounded on board. Especially Erikson." He was one of their best pilots, though 'best' was often substituted for crazy. Lasky believed you had to be at least a little crazy to willingly cart Blue Team around the galaxy, though. An outfit like that wasn't for the faint of heart.
"You know…" Palmer began, interrupting his train of thought. "They won't just stand by and wait for us to get back on our feet. Some big, ugly bastard's gonna come knocking at our door sooner or later. Somebody has to be there to greet them."
"Oh, trust me, I know. Had something simmering on the back burner for a while. It just needs a few more ingredients, then it's ready to serve." The pelican, having been shed of its excess weight, blasted off into the morning sky once more, punching through the near-translucent cloud cover floating above a majority of the port. Sarah huffed through her nose, amused.
"Should I be worried?" She asked, the corners of her mouth revealing the beginnings of a smile.
"Only for our enemies." He responded with a toothless grin. Allowing the railing to take his full weight, Lasky returned his gaze to the skies, comforted by Sarah's presence. She was one of his staunchest allies, someone he could call upon for anything. Even if they didn't see eye to eye on everything, she always had his back. That's why he felt so guilty for keeping something like BLIND SAGE from her. The Admiralty had also come to a similar conclusion and had begun preparations for Operation: BLIND SAGE in an effort to stay one step ahead of the enemy.
"You know…" Palmer teased, flashing him a playful grin. "You never took me up on that gravball challenge." Placing her back against the railing, she fixed him with an even smile. She enjoyed moments like these. Where she could let down her guard and just be…herself.
"And for good reason. You'd kick my ass up and down the court without even breaking a sweat."
"The crew could see you knocked down a peg or two." She said, bumping his shoulder.
"How about dinner instead?" He said, looking up into her eyes. She met his gaze, searching his hazelnut orbs for any unspoken emotions. She couldn't deny the pang of disappointment that sparked in her chest. Not that she wanted a romantic connection, or all the complications it would bring, but she felt their friendship was lacking…something. She could work through those questions later. Right now, Tom was waiting for an answer.
A brow rose in response. This was all part of the dance they played. "A proper gentleman, you are. Tempting… What are you offering? Because if it's pizza and wine back at your place, I'm afraid that you'll be eating alone."
"How about steak and champagne at a nice, upscale restaurant I know?" This wasn't part of their usual song and dance. What is he up to?
"Now you have my attention. Dress code?"
"Semi-formal."
"Formal? Where the hell am I going to get attire like that?" Sarah retorted hotly, elation giving way to exasperation. Spartans weren't known for their extensive wardrobes.
"Sounds like a personal problem to me. But if you want my advice, ask Spartan Wolfe."
"She has enough on her plate already. I'm not going to bother her with something that stupid." She said, dismissing the odd request. Either way, the young Spartan had her hands full with ONI's debrief…amongst other things. Sarah wasn't about to overstress the newest member of Blue Team by following through with Lasky's pointless advice.
"Suit yourself, Commander." He said, raising his hands in indifference. Brushing flecks of lint off his jacket, he ducked back inside without another word. Now alone, she turned her attention back towards the city, where high-rises jutted skyward like jagged, glittering spires. The metropolitan city had largely been spared from the Battle of Earth in the ending months of the war. As such, it flourished in the following years as refugees from both sides flooded back to Humanity's cradle. But despite millennia of evolution, all it takes is a few bad words and we're back to beating one another with sticks. Pretty pathetic when you think about it.
Sunlight began to break through the flimsy sheet of clouds, dotting the sprawling urban landscape with irregular splotches of gold. The burden of command has always been a heavy one, often requiring extreme sacrifice for those who chose to wield its formidable power. One the Commander was intimately familiar with. Captain Lasky was a man who knew how to lead from the front, inspiring those under his command to give more than their all. Who could turn today's failure into tomorrow's success. History would look at him and see a man of compassion, courage and conviction, traits all well-respected leaders shared. His name would be found among men like Captain Keyes, Captain Cutter, Preston Cole and the Master Chief: true heroes of Humanity. But Tom's recent behavior has her worried. He's been secretive, dodging her questions or changing the subject. At first, she just thought it was a new mission, one high above her clearance level. But this was more than just keeping her on a need-to-know basis for a highly classified op. The self-depreciation, the odd looks, not to mention the mountain of blame he placed upon himself, all seemingly stemmed from a much larger issue. I tried taking the soft approach, but no dice. Perhaps a more direct conversation will yield better results? This restaurant would no doubt be the best opportunity she would have for a while, as ONI was gearing up to put both of them through the ringer. The less stress Tom had going in the better she would feel. Now, where the hell can I get a fancy dress around here?
The quiet hiss of a door broke her from her reverie. A young man with deep set eyes poked his head out of the frame. "They're ready for you, Commander." The words squeaked out through his narrow jaw as he ran a deformed hand through his comb-over. The insignia on his shoulder signified his rank of Petty Officer Second Class. And although Spartans were unable to give or receive orders from ONI or Navy personnel, they were encouraged to accommodate all reasonable requests. Palmer gave him a quick nod, rising to her full height as a cold tendril of dread slithered down her spine. Even though ONI was instrumental in the development of every technological and biological advantage she currently wielded, Sarah still retained an inherent distrust of the intelligence branch. After all, they had brought in Dr. Halsey to work on the second-generation Spartans.
"Let's get this over with." Crap. Guess it'll have to wait. Casting one last glance back up at the Infinity docked high above, she followed the odd-looking soldier inside to meet with ONI for her scheduled debrief, the closer the pair got to the waiting car, the more she felt like a sheep being led to slaughter.
January 10, 2562
The Domain
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NO CHRONOLOGICAL REFERENCE
The Domain, a quantum repository created by the Precursors half a billion years before the end of Forerunner civilization, was a vast wealth of knowledge the likes of which any sentient being couldn't even begin to fathom. That was, if the Domain decided to share such information with you. In that way, it was much like a child; one day it would bestow upon you whatever was requested, but on others, the repository wouldn't give you the time of day. It was maddening! And the Didact had been fighting this battle ever since the humans imprisoned him here.
Bested! By such low-status creatures as the False Holders! Disgust pulsed through him like an overpressure wave, scattering bits of unanchored code that had yet to adhere to his form. The hardlight shards bounced off the uneven rocky ground, glittering like miniature stars as they plummeted into the ravine that just beyond his feet. He watched, his eyes alight with rage, as they shrank to the size of pinheads before disappearing altogether. Thunder rumbled in the distance, flashes of lightning outlining the ash-black storm clouds that loomed large on the distant horizon. It seems this prison shares my pain, my humiliation, my…fury. For a species so young, they possess a remarkable persistence when faced with adversity. But I was overconfident, assured of my own success. A fool who paid for my mistake twofold. A howling gale akin to the roar of dragons of legend, blasted from the fissure, whipping itself into a frenzied cyclone that drowned out all but the rumble of thunder and crack of lightning. The Didact made no move to flee or protect himself: for he was in control. The Domain bowed to his will. Though the full extent of Forerunner knowledge eluded him, perhaps for eternity, it did grant him certain boons. Just one of the many gifts he stole was a map detailing the location of several Composers that had been abandoned during the final years of the Flood-Forerunner war. My time of ascension draws near. Bolts of lightning arced and raced through the clouds like impulses passing between neurons, pulsing and flashing in eerie blues and purples within the darkened mass.
Just as the clouds passed overhead, the cyclone surged upward, quickly engulfing the aerosol and surrounding the Forerunner in a churning, supercharged storm. With a thought, his combat skin heeded his command, wrapping his body in the same armor that the human Spartan destroyed upon the Mantle's Approach several years ago. They slid into place with nary a whisper, unfolding and extending until his entire body was protected by silver plating, inlaid with intricate patterns of orange light. Taking a moment to appreciate his reconstructed form, he raised his arms to the sky. "I call upon the Domain to heed my command! Your Keeper is dead. I am your master now! Guarding your secrets, smiting the unworthy, it all falls to me. Grant me the power I require to crush those who would squander your gifts!" The world fell still as his final word was torn asunder in the cyclone, as if the Domain itself was weighing his command against some unspoken law. Irritation began to wriggle under his skin when a tremendous bolt of lightning crashed down upon him. Power, the likes of which he had never encountered, surged through him like the birth of a star, white-hot and all consuming. Like flesh being ripped from bone. Immense pain wracked his body, forcing him down to one knee, as if someone shattered his bones before dumping them into a pool of lava. He pushed the sensation aside, focusing on the memory of his wife. The times where it was just the two of them, gazing out towards the stars. Before his capture by the Gravemind. Before he was betrayed by the person who he trusted the most. With a snarl, he cast her memory into the swirling vortex. First-Light-Weaves-Living-Song. The Librarian. Her beauty is an illusion, her name but bile on my lips! Once, she was my everything. She is nothing to me now. Her choices destroyed her, and now…I will destroy her greatest treasure!
Static lingered heavily in the air, tickling his skin, even underneath layers of armor. He slowly rose, heavy alloy plating shifting and sliding into place as the disparate sections mimicked his movements. Sparing himself a moment of self-indulgence, he took in his new form. Molded upon the construct of which he'd slain, this design took on a more aggressive stance that mirrored the Didact's more sinister intentions. Gone was the Warden Eternal's preferred coloration of silver-white armor with orange illumination. In its place was armor as black as starless space, further demonized by the deep red light which flowed through the armor like blood. The Didact is dead. Consumed by beings of negligent importance. The Warrior-Servant had made certain additions to the armor more suited to his new position. Razor-sharp claws and talons, which could carve through a Wraith as if it was made of paper, adorned the newly constructed digits. While the majority of Humanity would be composed, forced to serve as foot soldiers in his army, there were those who he wanted to deal with…personally. An imposing hardlight blade materialized in his hand in an instant, conforming to the same sinister color palette as the rest of his combat skin. He swung it a few times, enjoying the way it cut through the air, before he dismissed it. My ascension is complete. Now I can finish what I began millennia ago. Humanity shall be culled from the galaxy, and without my departed wife to protect them, their fall is all but inevitable. Only the Forerunners are worthy of inheriting the Mantle of Responsibility and I, the Didact Eternal, will be its sole custodian.
Greater Chicago Industrial Zone, Lower District
United Republic of North America, Earth
Sol System
1100 hours
Cool winds blew softly, lulling the trees into a gentle dance. Despite being the dead of winter, their bare branches clattered together in a way that reminded Cortana of music often found in the Caribbean. Spirited music that drew from both ancient culture and modern influences to create the perfect harmony. The shabby, unassuming building squatted between a small restaurant and a bookstore like a rock eroded by the stream it rested in. Casting her eyes up and down the street, she noticed a few other people scampering between shops, heads down trying their hardest to remain unnoticed. The occasional honk of a vehicle's horn blared from around the corner. The noise from the city did not reach this far out. From what the soldiers on base had said, the streets become much livelier when the sun dips below the horizon. Freed from their daily responsibilities, residents take to the streets, whether to meet with friends, grab a bite or just share a pint with a stranger at the local pub. It didn't look like much from the outside, but the folks here had a heart of gold. Or so she had been told. We'll see, she thought dubiously, pushing her sunglasses back into place with a finger.
She quickly crossed the avenue, tugging the black UNSC jacket closer in a vain attempt to ward off the chill. The door automatically opened as she neared the threshold, admitting the ex-AI into an entirely different world. The interior was…not what she expected. Instead of a musty, dimly lit hovel, she found a warm and welcoming atmosphere. A small canal carved its way around the perimeter of the room, fed by two small waterfalls which freely spilled crystal blue water before disappearing under the marble bridge beneath her feet. Spotless columns of white sprouted like trees from the walls, feeding and nurturing the crossing arches above her head. Marble statues proudly displayed several prominent Greek gods and goddesses, many of which she had studied almost religiously during the first few weeks of her life. There was Gaia, Goddess of Earth, rising out from the multitude of flora wrapped around her body. Next was Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, who cradled a dove in her arms as several swans nestled themselves upon her intimate features. Whether it was to guard them or further symbolize what the particular goddess represented, Cortana couldn't tell. Lastly, perched in the center of the room was Ares, the God of War. Spear held high, he stood resolute, prepared to meet his enemies head on. Kind of like someone else I know.
"Ah, I always love seeing new faces come in here." A warm voice rang out from the other end of the room. Giving the statue a knowing smile, Cortana turned to face the stranger. A short, elderly gentleman tottered out from behind the counter, bony hands gripping the end of a cane. "Are you familiar with the Greek gods and goddesses of legend? They have always fascinated me, ever since I was a young lad." His eyes were warm and gentle, fascinated by the thought of discussing differing viewpoints.
"Intimately." She said with a smile of her own, regaling him with an abbreviated history of each statue.
"I must say, I'm quite impressed, Miss. I've been studying this culture for years and several things you mentioned…well, I never even considered."
"Learning about Human history is one of my favorite past times." Cortana said, rubbing the back of her neck as her skin flushed soft pink with embarrassment. Helping John slay Covenant as I infiltrated their systems was another.
He tapped his cane several times on the marble floor to get her attention. "As much as I would love to continue such a riveting intellectual discussion with one as impassioned as yourself, my husband would kill me. This business is our dream, you see. In fact, I quit my teaching job at the nearby university so I could join him on this adventure!"
"You must love him very much."
"I do… Pah, listen to me prattle! You came here for a bath, did you not? Come on, let's get you situated." Gesturing for her to follow, he hobbled back over to the counter and handed her a tablet. Quickly entering her responses, she handed it back with a kind smile.
"Three of you? I take it the others will be coming along shortly?" He said after giving the data pad a quick glance.
"Oh, yes we're quite the mishmash." Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she imagined the owner's reaction. Poor man would probably faint. Or have a heart attack. At his age, either was a solid possibility.
"Room number four, third door on the left. Have a lovely time, ma'am. You look like you could use one." He handed her a key card before seeming to catch himself in his mistake, quickly apologizing. "Sorry, I meant no offense."
Though she had use of the communal shower she shared with the rest of Blue Team, hot water was limited. Spreading that amount over the entire crew and various ship systems, a ten-minute soak was a luxury. The ex-AI maintained good hygiene, a relatively new concept, but had never before had the chance to relax. Admittedly, this opportunity excited her more than she cared to admit. Even to him. Because Cortana knew he would move mountains for her if she asked. "None taken." She finally offered, turning the card over in her hand. Having a permanent physical presence was still disorienting. For instance, being startled by the spiciness of a meal or a momentary stutter in her movements after touching a holo-pedestal. Her running theory was that these responses are the remnants of her natural AI instincts being brought to the surface, like how throwing a rock into a pond creates ripples. Mulling over them now would just send her down a rabbit hole she was not keen on exploring.
She followed the hallway until she reached the door she was looking for. Swiping the card through the reader, it took her a few tries until the device beeped, allowing her entrance. Steam poured into the antechamber as she stepped inside. Hundreds of little blue tiles lined the pool and adjacent hot tub, projecting a shimmering blue aurora onto the surrounding walls and giving guests the sensation of being underwater. Cortana took a moment to just take it all in. it was always inspiring to witness the fruits of human creativity and ingenuity. And to think I would spend my entire life only dreaming of moments like these…
Pulling off her boots and socks, she placed them next to the rest of her discarded clothing, leaving her in just a basic two-piece gray swimsuit that did nothing to accentuate the body that the Forerunners had so graciously bestowed upon her. Disappointing. But it's not like I've had ample time to shop for anything else. Frowning, she lifted her arms above her and began stretching. Her muscles were buzzing in anticipation, eager to relax beneath the steaming water. But that would be difficult if she drowned because of taut muscles. Several minutes later, she was loosened up and ready to go. Flashing a confident grin, she dove beneath the surface. Her movements were streamlined, graceful as she sliced through the water like a knife. Surprisingly, swimming was one of the skills she naturally excelled at, despite the fact she'd never touched any amount of water before becoming organic. Upon reaching the opposite end of the pool for the sixth time, she dipped beneath the surface as she rolled, launching off the side with lithe, muscular legs. She had just effortlessly transitioned back to a smooth breaststroke when a single word caused her to stop dead.
"Cannonball!" Shit! Abandoning her regimented form completely, she scrambled to the side as someone hit the water a mere foot from where she had just been. Gleeful laughter filled the room as she pulled her head out of the water.
"That was dangerous. You could have been seriously hurt!" Cortana chided, trying to keep her tone soft despite her rising anger. The young Sangheili looked away sheepishly, nervously playing with the floaties keeping her buoyant. "And you!" She snarled, curling an arm protectively around the youngling. Vitriolic words bubbled at the back of her throat like acid, dangerously close to spilling out into the world. And she would have let him have it too, if not for Amber and her quivering mandibles. All her anger drained from her body as she looked into those teary golden eyes. Not fair. How am I supposed to stay mad at Chief now? Being that adorable should be a crime. "I'm sorry, little one. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just worried, okay?" Amber nodded understandingly as she tried to wipe away the gathering tears.
"Will Chief join us? I want to play hide-and-seek." Amber asked as Cortana pulled her out to deeper water.
"Later." She spoke, her dark tone making it clear that John was not welcome. She watched as he made his way to her clothes, depositing the rest of the items in an orderly fashion. You're staring.
Am not. Though she knew full well she was. How often would she get another chance like this? Of course she was going to milk it for all it was worth!
You're still staring. Stop it. Again, she ignored her better judgement, openly ogling the legend as he removed the training sweats he wore. Corded bands of steel rippled under his scars as he began his own exercises. Ooooh…
Keep staring. KEEP STARING! That little voice in the back of her head did a sudden about-face, chanting the exact opposite of what it had been preaching just a moment ago. Turn around. Come on, tunraroundturnaroundturnaround. John turned around as if he had heard her thoughts. Oh, dear gods above… Unsurprisingly, he was built like a tank, what took her aback was the simple fact that he was downright jaw-droppingly handsome. I do know how to pick 'em. Their eyes met. He smirked at her; a nanosecond twitch she'd have missed if she blinked. But she couldn't do much outside of treading water so she didn't end up drowning herself. How come she didn't notice before? Doesn't matter. Cortana is most certainly interest- Her brain stomped hard on the brakes as a wave of warm water was forcefully shoved in her face.
She glared out from under her waterlogged bangs, coughing and sputtering in a desperate attempt to remove the liquid from her lungs. "Don't watch him. He knows how to swim. Teach me." John let out an amused grunt as he settled himself into the soak tub. Grumbling something under her breath holistically unsuitable for children, Cortana returned to the pouting Sangheili. A short bark of laughter from behind caused her to flush pink as cotton candy as embarrassment surged through her. Damn Spartan hearing. She was eager to get this lesson over with as soon as possible, if only for the sole reason of not blatantly staring at her partner.
"Ahhhhh." She moaned as she practically oozed into the soak tub almost an hour later. After the small mishap in the beginning, Cortana devoted all of her attention to Amber, patiently instructing the young saurian on the basics of treading water. Due to the alien's digitigrade leg structure, many swimming styles favored by humans were just not feasible. So, Cortana had done a bit of research and created a modified dog paddle stroke that fit the Sangheili's requirements, at least in theory. After receiving a green light from both Spartan women, Cortana had proceeded with instruction. And for Amber's first time in an actual body of water, she had performed exceedingly well.
"Good work." John spoke softly, keenly aware of the sleeping saurian curled up in a towel sleeping soundly several feet away.
"Thanks." She graciously responded, lowering her head onto the cool tile. The hot water was amazing but she could do without the copious amounts of steam. With all the water droplets in the air she felt as though she were sitting inside a cloud. A pleasantly warm cloud, yes, but a cloud nonetheless. Peeking out the corner of her eye, she followed her partner's gaze. He watched Amber like a hawk, sharp blue eyes constantly scanning for threats. It was endearing, the way he was so protective of her. "Why don't you spend some time with her? For a six-year-old alien child who was found in a keep on Sanghelios after being found adrift out in space, she is remarkably insightful." John slid lower into the water, glancing at her momentarily before resuming his watch. A storm of voiceless thoughts surged within the dark blue orbs, restless and angry that they could be confined in such a manner. Hoping to quell some of the turmoil within her Spartan, she reached for the tags that hung around his neck but stopped just as her fingers brushed against the warm metal. Calm down, girl. There is a time and a place for everything and that is not now. Shame blossomed within her like a flower, its wilted petals touching every part of her soul as its thorny stems wrapped themselves tightly around her heart. You're not a damn dog. Stop salivating over him like a fine steak. He's your friend for Forerunners' sake!
"What were you looking at? Before her lesson?" He asked, blatantly avoiding her question. It was a talent he was remarkably proficient at, one that annoyed her to no end. Unfolding her legs, she placed both of them on the opposite bench. Treading water for almost an hour left her legs demanding rest. And the steam rising from the soak tub was incredibly enticing. Or was it just him? Damn it. The steam was starting to make her head swim. She closed her eyes, trying to make sense of all this new incoming data. Emotions were so much more difficult to process.
Something wrapped itself around her foot, jolting her from her rationalization. "Gah!" She yelped in surprise, splashing wildly as she attempted to pull away, nearly slipping off the bench in the process.
"Relax." He said gently, the command rumbling through her like a Scorpion, turning her insides to putty. Was he always this close? She dared not open her eyes, for fear of what she might find. Or that she might enjoy what she did. Roughly shoving that particular thought to the back of her mind, she allowed herself to focus on the rough, calloused fingers massaging her skin with a gentleness that beguiled their size. He smelled of gun oil, spent brass and just a hint of earthiness. It was her favorite smell.
"A girl could get used to this." She mumbled to no one in particular, practically melting into the water as he came across a more demanding knot.
"One time offer, I'm afraid." He quipped, rewarding him with a small chuckle from the ex-AI for his efforts.
"So, you do have a sense of humor." Cortana joked, cracking open a single blue eye.
"Did you think I had lost it?" Chief shot back, a mixture of curiosity and amusement caught in the wrinkles and scars lingering around his eyes. Each one a memory, a tale of heroic victory and crushing defeat. But John had survived, proving his unparalleled skill and uncanny amount of luck to any who would doubt him. And Cortana knew them all.
"No." A playful smirk crawled across her face as she recognized the opportunity was just too good to pass up. "But you are getting up there in years, so anything can happen." Chief grunted gruffly, unamused by her jibe. Chronologically speaking, the veteran had just crossed the half a century barrier, a truly astonishing feat given the average lifespan of a Spartan. But due in part to the many years he spent in cryosleep, John still moved as if he was twenty years younger, something that absolutely delighted her. John was born for this life, she thought proudly, pulling her arms from the water. She wanted to be wrapped in his strong embrace, feel his warmth shield her from the cold. But John was never really equipped to deal with things emotionally, tending to file them away for later analysis. Even Amber, bless her little hearts, tended to steer clear of him. He just didn't know how to operate without clear, set objectives. To put it another way: John didn't know what the hell he was doing.
But that's not going to stop him from trying. He looked down at her and for a moment their eyes locked, an unspoken conversation passing between them. True, Chief didn't know the first thing about child care, but he was especially adept at protecting VIP's. An apt description considering what Kelly or Sandra would do to anyone who dared hurt their daughter, accidental or otherwise. Though the main danger stemmed from the youngling's own hooves, often catching on her robe that was just a tad too long. She'd just dust herself off, bat away Cortana's fussing, give Chief a smile and a wave and continue on as if nothing happened.
"Does your heart jump into your throat every time she falls or is it just me?" Cortana asked after a while, unable to pull her gaze from the small dribble of drool hanging from one of Amber's mandibles.
"No." He responded, hardened blue orbs locked on his charge with a razor-sharp focus. "Kelly doesn't scare me." He added offhandedly, almost as an afterthought. Almost anyone else would have missed it, but to those who knew him, the simple blurb was quite telling. Kelly wasn't the one he was worried about.
"Me too." She said in a whisper, like she was afraid the Spartan could overhear if she spoke any louder. An involuntary shiver lanced up her spine, chilling her despite the elevated temperature. The ex-AI almost squeaked, literally squeaked, in surprise as one of John's tree-sized biceps wrapped around her, pulling her close. Her friend had never been one for physical contact, so she was understandably caught off-guard.
"You looked cold." Was all he said before turning his attention elsewhere.
Liar. The ghost of a smirk on his face was all too telling. Payback for the comments she'd made earlier. But the joke was on him, as she was more than okay with this arrangement. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, she burrowed into his chest, allowing the steady beat of his heart to soothe her worries. The desire to run her hands up and down his chest was palpable, but she didn't want things to get awkward between them. Instead, curling them behind his back to soak in as much of him as she could. A spike of cold anger pierced her heart at the realization that these opportunities came so few and far between. She didn't care how illogical or nonsensical it was. It just wasn't fair. She hated Sandra for being brave enough to act upon her feelings. She hated Halsey for taking his childhood and depriving him of a normal life. But most of all, she hated all the other people in love for having the opportunity to express themselves openly and as much as they wanted.
Any further hostility dissipated instantly as warm fingers combed through her raven locks. Cortana sighed contently as the last vestiges of tension floated away like driftwood down a gentle stream. She spent the next several minutes adjusting the straps on her bathing suit as they were starting to dig into her skin. Undoubtedly, they both sported matching raisin complexions, but neither were in a hurry to leave. Now this is paradise. Everyone had their happy place. Hers was with him, be it a bathhouse on Earth or in the midst of a firefight. No matter where he went, she would follow.
Off-World Temporary Accommodations, Great Lakes Spaceport
United Republic of North America, Earth
1515 hours
Kelly spent the two weeks between Tribute and Earth either training, guarding or teaching Amber. Surprisingly, she found the first two more challenging than the last. Sandra even teased her about it, saying that if she ever got bored of being a Spartan the older woman would make an excellent teacher. She'd scoffed at the idea, but secretly was overjoyed that her love thought she could be more than just a soldier. More than a machine.
Ignoring the awestruck faces of the civilians, she kept her eyes glued to the palm-sized data pad, rereading the message for the fourth time.
Spartan 087,
Off-World Temporary Accommodations, building 4.
17th floor. Room P5. 1530 hours. Entry code is 287913.
The short message was both informative and cryptic, giving the Spartan enough information without needing to specify why. A hallmark of ONI communiqués. What would ONI want with me now? Blue Team has already been debriefed. Delivered via unofficial channels, it was clear that whatever this was about, ONI wanted it to be kept quiet. The thought was more than a little unsettling. Her M6H2 nestled in the small of her back was reassuring, reminding her that she had tactical flexibility if the need arose.
Kelly stepped into the lift, the glass doors closing soundlessly behind her.
"Which floor do you wish to visit?" Huron, the spaceport's dumb AI, chimed in inquisitively. Named after one of the five Great Lakes, Huron, alongside his brother and sister, Mich and Superia, controlled the majority of the port's systems. In an effort not to overtax their processing, each AI was tasked with a different branch of systems. Mich handled logistics, Superia oversaw security and Huron acted as the trifecta's leader keeping the public informed and day-to-day operations running smoothly.
"Seventeen." She responded coolly, not letting her nervousness betray her. Slipping the pad into one of the pockets of her combat pants, she shifted from foot to foot as the elevator began to ascend. Brilliant afternoon rays swept gently across the busy urban sprawl, bathing the entire spaceport in a warm, natural light that beguiled tourists unfamiliar to Earth winters. As the lift climbed past the fifth floor, she felt her thoughts drifting to her family. Sandra was currently undergoing a secondary debrief to "ensure all individuals, and their actions, are present and accounted for.". At least that's what the ONI spook had told her. Kelly believed otherwise. ONI was never what they appeared to be on the surface. Sandra is clean! They're trying to drag her through the mud because they need someone to blame! She exhaled sharply through her nose, rolling her shoulders stiffly in an effort to shed this emotional weight. She needed to go into this meeting with a calm, level head. Sunlight flooded through the windows that ran the length of the building's lobby, almost forty feet, drenching the glass box with warmth as she reached the ninth floor.
Funny enough, Amber was the deciding factor for her to go. When she received the message several hours ago, Sandra was already tied up with ONI. Add that to the fact the sheer irresponsibility to leave her six-year-old to fend for herself and Kelly was pretty much stuck. Not bad, mind you, just…inopportune. Then, fortuitously, Cortana happened to walk past where they were playing. Amber was on her like a starving cat just given an entire fish. Successfully prying the Sangheili from the woman, Kelly explained the situation. The ex-AI was intrigued, to say the least. She agreed to take Amber for the day if Kelly covered one of John's guard shifts. The scout readily agreed, eager to put this mysterious message behind her.
As the lift began to slow, that same feeling of unease slowly crept back to the surface. She attempted several twitch-response drills to focus her mind, with little luck. Like a terrible itch you couldn't quite reach, it just wouldn't go away. The doors parted soundlessly, allowing her to adjourn to an equally silent hallway. She couldn't hear a sound. No people. No pets. No movement of any kind. Like the entire floor was frozen in time. Just a single white hallway with five matching ornately carved doors. The sign beside her listed them as penthouse suites, numbered one through five. Room P5 was directly ahead of her, at the end of the hall. This isn't ominous…at all. Stepping out of the car, she drew her sidearm and leveled it down the hallway. Dashing down the hall, she made it to the first room in under a few seconds. The door was unlocked. Red flag number two. Folding herself against the wall, she tapped the door release. Collapsing in on the opening, the Spartan came face to face with…nothing. Empty. Just to be sure she checked the rest of the suite, sweeping each room for threats. Zip. Nada. Zilch. She repeated the process with the other three remaining rooms, each one clean as a whistle. This just keeps getting weirder and weirder.
The tingly feeling was back and stronger than ever. Whatever's behind door number five… I think this may be one of those 'never go back' moments. Let's get this done. Shaking the nagging feeling of discomfort as best she could, she keyed in the code from the message. 2-8-7-9-1-3. The door chirped happily, the light above the pad switching from red to green as it accepted her input. It slid open to reveal a large, open sitting area complete with freshly polished oak floors. The couch, furnished in expensive, rich black leather sat center stage, commanding your attention. Three armchairs, dipped in a color that could only be described as 'white chocolate', flanked the ottoman like guards, protecting it from anyone they deemed unworthy. The bedrooms and baths were off to the right, hidden from prying eyes by gold-trimmed doors. To her left sat the kitchen, adorned with white marble countertops that gleamed obnoxiously in the sun. The entire suite was pristine untouched by human hands. A bottle of wine sat open on the island bar, the only indication that the room was inhabited.
"Is there someone there?" A symphonic voice called from around the corner, bringing Kelly back to her senses. Soft footfalls echoed quietly off the hardwood floor, absolutely thunderous in the silence surrounding them. "I thought I told the Admiral I didn't want to be dis-" The words died on her lips as the woman suddenly found herself staring down the barrel of a handgun. "Oh my god…" The glass of wine slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor and flinging its deep red contents all over the expensive furnishings.
This woman seemed…familiar, somehow. Kelly had seen her before but she couldn't recall anything beyond a few blurry snippets shrouded by time. Silver hair tickled her shoulders, framing a beautifully angular face ravaged by worry, guilt and sadness. But by far the most prominent facet was her eyes. Deep blue like the oceans' depths, glimmering in the afternoon light like sapphires. One thing was clear: this woman wasn't ONI. She didn't carry herself with the confidence of a career military officer either. So just who is she? Kelly holstered her weapon. whoever this woman was, she was no threat. "Who are you?" Kelly asked, her mouth belaying her orders, firing off before she had time to organize her thoughts.
"Kelly...?" The woman began, her words coming slowly as she struggled to come to grips with the woman standing before her. There was no way this was her daughter. For one… Oh, who am I kidding? It's been almost fifty years. I wouldn't know what she looked like even if you shoved a picture in my face. But...it had to be her. There was no one else who had the code to the room. Serin had made absolutely sure of that. "Kelly, is that really you?" Even after all these years, this woman's face, this Spartan, shared many similarities as her six-year-old daughter. Her eyes, the same shade of blue. Her face held the same contours as her own. Could it really be anyone else? "It is, isn't it? Everyone else was convinced you were dead but we refused to believe them." She was smiling now, though Kelly had no idea why.
"I'm afraid you must have me confused with someone else ma'am."
The woman reeled back as if she had been slapped. "You…you don't remember me?" She asked quietly, fresh pain gnawing at her heart. Kelly shook her head several times. At this point the older woman burst into tears. Ugly, heaving sobs wracked her body, a sight made all the more miserable by the fat tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. "What did they do to you?" She lamented, grabbing the edge of the countertop to stabilize herself as the strength fled her legs. Kelly stood there stiffly, keeping the woman in her peripheral in case she collapsed. Something deeply personal was happening here and she felt wrong for invading. But curiosity nipped at her heels, staying her feet. ONI had obviously sent her the message and she wasn't leaving until she found out why. Eventually, the woman's sobs quieted to sniffles and she wiped away the more stubborn tears with her sleeve. "Sorry, seeing you just made everything real." She moved around the counter, craning her neck the closer she got to the Spartan, looking into the eyes of a ghost. "My name is Patricia. Patricia Shaddock, and I am your mother."
Kelly's entire world came to a screeching halt. Her brain hadn't just slammed on the breaks, it had derailed the entire goddamn train. What? During her formative years, she had come to the conclusion that her parents had likely been killed when the Covenant began glassing worlds. Before long their faces, along with her earliest memories, faded into obscurity. Kelly later learned that she'd been kidnapped at a young age and transported to Reach, where they trained her in the art of combat. Trainee 087 had never looked back, adapting to her new purpose like a duck to water. She was a Spartan. But as Sandra and others had shown her, that didn't mean she was without feelings or emotions. "What?" She responded, her brain still in the process of rebooting.
"I've waited over forty years to see your beautiful face again, my little gemstone. Though, you are much taller than I was expecting." Patricia chuckled at her own statement, whether it was for her own sanity or something else, Kelly had no idea. She reached for her daughter's hand, to prove without a shadow of a doubt that her daughter was really alive, only for Kelly to pull away. A look of hurt flashed in her eyes.
"Sorry." Kelly offered, looking away guiltily. "I…I'm not good with people." She took a step back, looking anywhere but at the woman who claimed to be her mother. It was too much, too fast. She needed distance, time to process it all. Kelly wasn't scared. It was just a…tactical retreat until further intelligence could be gathered.
Just where the hell do you think you're going, bunny? Her Inner Sandra piped up.
To process all this.
Process it there. Inner Sandra commanded, not giving an inch.
I…don't know what I'm supposed to say. Kelly replied honestly, sharing her worries with the mental fragment of her lover.
You didn't with me.
You're a hurricane, Sandra. I just got swept up in your craziness.
It worked, didn't it? Even in her mind, her pup was always correct.
Unfortunately. Kelly responded flatly, not meaning it in the slightest. Sandra was the best thing to ever happen to her.
Oh, stop being a pussy. Though, I wouldn't mind if you- Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Not going there. Even as she chided herself, her cheeks flushed with color at the implication. inappropriate thoughts aside, Inner Sandra had a point. Running wouldn't solve anything.
Patricia explained to Kelly how, during her sixth birthday, she had gone missing for several hours. Douglas and her wife had been completely hysterical when they couldn't find their daughter. Eventually, with the help of neighbors and local authorities, they managed to find the young girl wandering in the woods behind their home. Relieved that Kelly had been found no worse for wear, the Shaddock family had gone back to their daily lives. But the happiness was not to last. Less than a year after the incident, Kelly had suddenly and mysteriously come down with a terminal illness. Within a month she was gone. The two of them did something no parent should ever have to do: bury their child. Though wracked with grief, both of them found it incredibly suspicious that their healthy daughter contracted a deadly disease within such a short time period. Thus began their hunt for answers. It was a puzzle that would take over a quarter century to solve and almost cost them both their lives. It was only when Serin, the Director of ONI, peeled back the lies and secrecy that Patricia was finally able to learn the truth about what happened to her daughter.
"Wine?" Patricia offered, opening one of the cabinets and removing two glasses.
"Please." Kelly had a feeling she would need it to get through this conversation. Or at least it would give her the courage to stay if things became awkward. She eased into the cushions, the luxurious furniture groaning under her weight. It was like she was sitting on rocks. No matter how she situated herself, she could not get comfortable. She frowned at the poor design, but said nothing.
"Here you are, honey." Patricia said, offering her a flute filled three-quarters full of the aromatic drink. Kelly rolled her shoulders, the endearing name settling uncomfortably against her skin.
"So…what do you wish to know?" Kelly began uncertainly, not wanting to cross any boundaries.
"The last time I saw you was when you were six. I want to know everything." The veteran's life was a veritable sea of black ink but she would share what she could. This conversation is not going to be easy.
"Very well, Patricia."
"You came out of my womb. Patricia is for my friends. You're my daughter. Mom is just fine." That was a mental image she didn't need.
"Alright…Mom." She acquiesced, rolling the word around. It felt odd, unfamiliar, but not necessarily bad. She was a mother herself after all. "They trained us, augmented us. Made us stronger, faster, smarter. We became the best we could be."
"You were children! They had no right!" A wave of hot fury burned through her, temporarily obscuring the joy pulsing steadily in her heart. Hearing it from her own daughter only solidified the fact that Dr. Halsey and ONI were monsters. Abducting them, forcing them to fight, subjecting their vulnerable bodies to cruel experiments…Patricia hoped there was a special place in hell for people like them. She forced herself to take several calming breaths before she spoke again. "Augmentations? Like what?"
"Gene therapy, chemical augmentations, and surgery. Lots of surgery." The matron's mouth twisted into a frown as her stomach rolled fiercely. She quickly downed the rest of her glass and stood up to get another. Kelly remained silent, unsure if she should continue. She had years to come to grips with her changes but this woman was the first time. "I'm sorry this is so upsetting." She didn't know what she was apologizing for but felt that she needed to.
"You have nothing to apologize for, sweetie." Patricia reassured her, ignoring how her daughter jumped at her touch. "Please, continue."
Kelly swallowed, becoming uncomfortable. This was not a topic she enjoyed talking about. Not even to Sandra. "Not much else to say. We became the soldiers we were born to be." Kelly sounded proud being chosen to become a Spartan. Did ONI's indoctrination truly run that deep? A question for a later time. For now, her daughter was the only one that mattered.
"Do you have a family? Husband? Children?" Kelly took a sip of her wine as she gathered her thoughts.
"Yes, no and technically. In that order." Kelly offered with a small smile. The first one she'd seen, Patricia noted.
"I would love to hear about them." Patricia prodded her gently when her daughter failed to elaborate. Behind that stony façade, Kelly was reluctant to divulge any further information because she feared her mother wouldn't understand Amber. Me, a full-grown woman and a Spartan, afraid of what this woman would say about my life. She looked down at her almost full glass, lost in her own head. You know what? Who the hell cares? I've survived the last fifty years without anyone else, why would it matter now? Draining her entire glass, she looked the woman straight in the eye.
"Three years ago, the most amazing woman I've ever met turned my world inside out. At first, I didn't understand what she was doing. The flirting and teasing were alien to me." She scoffed as memories of the purple Spartan rose to the surface. "Sandra frustrated and confused me to no end. I was ready to report her behavior when she told me, in no uncertain terms, where she stood. And without even realizing it, I had fallen for her completely. The rest is history."
"Does she make you happy?" Patricia asked, already knowing the answer.
"Immensely." Kelly finally allowed herself to relax, allowing the couch to pull her into its embrace.
"Then I would love to meet her." Taking a moment to cross her legs and take another sip of her drink, she continued. "You said something about technically having children? What's that about?"
Kelly tried to repeat her older woman's motions, but felt the position awkward and too exposed for her liking. Settling both feet firmly on the floor, she explained Amber's unique origins. "Amber is the most interesting child you will ever meet. A sharp mind and curious to a fault, with a stubborn streak a mile long. That she gets from her mother."
"You know, you were quite the curious little girl yourself. Always wanting to go out into the woods, explore what nature had to offer. There was one time your father-" Her breath hitched, the rest of the story forming a lump in her throat that wouldn't move. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes like needles as the stark realization hit her: Douglas would never see her daughter. What she had become, the trials she had faced.
"When did he pass?" Kelly placed a hand on her mother's arm in an attempt to comfort her. Patricia gave her a wistful smile to show that the gesture was appreciated.
"About eight years after you disappeared. Car crash."
Kelly did some quick math. "2525. First contact with the Covenant." Blue Team had just recovered from the augmentation procedures and had been tasked with capturing the United Rebel Front colonel, Robert Watts. Her father had died, never knowing what had happened to his daughter, while she was lightyears away, killing Insurrectionists. The thought made her nauseous. Logically, she understood why ONI and the UNSC had severed all ties with the candidates' former lives, but still felt wrong.
"I know he would be proud of you." Kelly simply nodded, not able to find the words to express her feelings.
Kelly checked her watch. It was almost 1700. Have we really been talking for almost two hours? Wow. She needed to relieve Cortana and Chief from childcare duty. "I need to go." She set the empty glass on the table as she rose to her feet.
"So soon?" Kelly gave another nod, her lips twitching into a momentary frown. "Do you ever want to live a normal life?" Patricia blurted out desperately, not ready to see her daughter disappear again.
Kelly paused halfway to the door, looking over her shoulder. "What do you mean by normal?"
"Marriage, job, children, somewhere to call home?"
"I…don't know." She supplied truthfully. Things like marriage and life outside the service never mattered to her before Sandra. Her service as a Spartan was her life. She had always imagined herself taking her last breaths on a planet far from Earth, bringing as many of the enemy down with her as she could. But it was no longer just her. Two beautiful angels walked alongside her, their steps filling her with hope and love.
"Can you leave?" Serin said she could put in for a discharge like any other soldier, but she wanted to hear it from a source she could trust.
"I can put in for a discharge like anyone else."
Patricia let her head fall, silver locks obscuring her expression. "Would you even want to?" She asked, desperation clinging to her throat like glue. The woman had just found her long-lost stranger of a daughter and was not keen on letting her go so easily. But the road went two ways. Give me a little credit here. The scout was just as eager to learn about the life ONI forced her to abandon, the father she had lost and the mother who had never given up hope.
As selfish as that might seem, she couldn't leave. Not yet. "Perhaps. Just not now." Such a monumental decision couldn't be made without talking with Sandra and the rest of Blue Team. Pushing the widow's broken expression aside, she made it another two steps before the widow's voice stopped her once more.
"Could we at least keep in contact?" Patricia pleaded in a half-whisper, her voice shaking, on the verge of tears. Kelly flashed her a small smile, gesturing for a pen and something to write on. Patricia furiously rifled through several drawers before coming upon the requested items.
"I share this terminal with the rest of my team." Kelly explained as she wrote down the terminal address. "But I'm the only one who really uses it, so call when it suits you." She handed Patricia the scrap of paper. The woman quickly scanned it, giving her daughter a wide smile.
Kelly extended a hand, fully expecting her mother to take it. Patricia ignored it like it didn't even exist, instead wrapping her daughter up in a fierce hug. Kelly stiffened, unaccustomed to such a forward expression of emotion. "Stay safe, my little sapphire." She said, squeezing her corded steel wall of a daughter, pouring forty years of pent-up emotion into this single moment.
"I'm not so little anymore, Mom." Kelly said, returning the gesture awkwardly. Clearly her daughter was not used to hugs. That would need to change.
"You will always be my little girl. Nothing will ever change that." Patricia squeezed her one last time before they separated, holding her at arm's length. "We are both so, so proud of you. I just ask that you think about what I said. You can have a life outside of…all this." She said, gesturing to Kelly's physique. "I want you to come home. To your family. ONI took everything from us, sweetie. Everything. Kelly, they don't own you and you sure as hell don't owe them anything."
Unbeknownst to Patricia, the words stung the scout deeply. John, Fred and the others are her family. Sam was her family. Kelly had watched many of them perish under the Covenant's unrelenting onslaught, helpless to do anything about it. But she couldn't hold that against her. She didn't know- couldn't know. "I will." Was all Kelly said, her inner turmoil preventing the Spartan from smiling. If her mother was bothered with her less that joyful response, she kept it to herself.
Patricia walked her to the door, where they shared another short, awkward embrace. She watched her daughter until the coffee-colored locks disappeared as the lift descended beyond her view. Part of her yearned to sprint over to the controls and recall the car, embracing her daughter so she could never leave her again. But she knew this was a foolish notion. Kelly was a grown woman, and a Spartan to boot. She could handle herself. At least, that's what all the holovids portrayed. Humanity's greatest soldiers, responsible for helping turn the tide of the war. And her baby was one of them. Kelly was a hero. Douglas, our search is complete. It only took us forty-five years! Oh, how I wish you could see her now… She's so tall! She dwarfs your entire gravball team by at least half a head! But more importantly, ONI didn't destroy what made our baby unique. Pushed it deep, deep down, yes. But underneath all that indoctrination, she's still there. With time, I think she'll come back to us. I almost forgot the most important thing! Our little sapphire has a family of her own. I haven't met them yet, but I'm sure they are lovely. Come to think of it…I don't even know what they look like. I need to message Kelly and ask for a picture or vid. I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go celebrate! The widow ducked back in her room, laughing gleefully, with a smile so big enough to see from orbit.
Flopping down on the couch with the bottle in one hand, a glass in the other, she began to fill her third cup. The fruity alcohol ran up the sides, coating the cup with its aroma. Patricia paused in her pour, looking between the glass and the bottle. I feel like I could take on the world, I'm so happy! She gave the flute a hard look, coming to a decision. Fuck it. She carelessly tossed the glass over her shoulder, delighting in the sound it made as it shattered. Raising the bottle to her lips, she took her first large sip of the night. As long as I have my daughter ONI can burn. Tonight was going to be a good one.
The Final Arc Awaits!
*Quick note: While Patricia knows Kelly is a Spartan, she doesn't know her daughter is second-generation*
And there we have it! The conclusion to the second arc of the Rabbit and the Wolfe series! You don't know how long I've been waiting for Patricia's reveal! I know RW:CL was much longer in the making, but I appreciate everyone who stuck with me, enjoying each chapter as I put it out. Before I go any further, I want to give a HUGE shout out to two super talented people. First, MightyMilkDuds, my editor, proofreader and occasional reality slapper. Without him, my chapters would not be nearly as high quality as they are. Secondly, operating behind the curtain, Chiron Auva, the individual for creating some totally rad cover art! I thank you for offering up your time, energy and skill to bring these scenes to life. Your work has inspired me to continue writing, committed to bettering my literary skills.
Now, you may be asking but A.P., what about the sequel? What is it going to be about? When will it drop? Well, dear readers, RW3 will be the concluding arc. And as such, our resident lovebirds and their allies will face some of the toughest challenges yet. They will require courage aplenty on the battlefield. Outside of combat, nerves of steel will be needed to overcome the monumental obstacles they are sure to encounter. As to when you will get your hands on the first chapter? You know my schedule (i.e. I can't hold myself to a schedule worth squat). All I can say is keep your eyes on your email in 2021. With any luck- or all the luck- it should pop up in the first half of the year (but don't quote me on it).
To tide you over, here is a little snippet:
After his imprisonment and subsequent digitization at the hands of the Master Chief, the Didact has returned. With the power of the Domain at his fingertips, his armies cleave through the galaxy, enslaving those who submit and eliminating any that resist. As he prepares his final act of revenge, Sandra and the other members of Blue Team desperately search for a means to stop him. But as the bodies begin to pile up, it becomes clear that a small strike force may not be enough. Can Humanity and the enduring fragments of the Covenant empire put aside their hatred to combat a common foe? Victory often comes at a price. But what if that price is too steep to stomach?
Again, thank you all for joining me on this amazing journey. But we aren't done yet. Still many twists and turns until we reach the endgame. Be sure to drop MilkDuds and Chiron some love in the reviews! Be sure to favorite, follow and review! See you all in the final chapter of our trilogy!
