A/N: I wanted to write more, but this chapter already had 4,290 words, which is far longer than any of my other chapters so far! Thus, I leave you with this...

(also, chapter title loosely translates to "what the hell is going on here" in Latin. when i say loosely, i mean because google translate isn't 100% accurate and i don't know Latin)


Somewhere beyond SWORD Base, Eposz, Reach, Epsilon Eridani system, February 13th, 2559

"You're seeing what I'm seeing... right?" Artemis questioned, laying prone and sighting down the scope of her SRS99C-S2 sniper rifle. "Tell me I'm not just seeing things. Tell me this isn't some ex-Covenant faction, crawling all over my home planet, when they don't fucking have the right to be!" Her voice steadily hardened, and grew in volume. When Carter shot her a warning look – one she could tell even through his gold visor – she shrunk back sheepishly. "Sorry. Just kinda pissed."

"I know." His voice was calm; steadying for her fraying nerves. "And you're definitely not seeing things. Can't say for sure just who they are though, because they're not Storm, whoever they are. Their equipment is all... different."

All chunky-looking, silver and red and lethal, rather than all the sleek, chitinous materials that was the Storm Covenant's trademark. This was something else. These guys seemed... more aggressive, in their movements. More angry. It wasn't good, whatever was going on. Why they were poking around the remains of SWORD Base, was unclear, but their intentions were just plain wrong.

"Yeah..." Artemis breathed. "Why the hell are they poking around SWORD, anyway? There's nothing left after it was blown to hell and back. Nothing that'd be worth their interest – oh, fuck."

Another sidelong glance, this one filled with concern. "What is it?"

"Carter, what if they're uncovering that ancient alien vessel that was buried under the ice shelf? I mean... look at all those Scarab-type things. Scarabs are part of the Covenant excavation vehicle category." She grabbed at his arm, despite the armour, and gestured wildly, frantic. "I mean... look. That vessel, whatever happened to it... it looked like it had been there for years, and it looked relatively intact. Tell me I'm crazy all you want, but what if it's in one piece, and they know that, and they're digging it up to try and power it up to use it for their fleet? I mean, you saw the size of that thing, right? Stretching further than the eye could see. The probability of its size alone had me wondering if it was bigger than a CSO. And that's the biggest-known Covenant vessel."

There was a pause, and then, "No. I think you might be onto something."

A chill ran down the Lieutenant's spine, and she suppressed a shudder, closing her eyes briefly. She rose, slowly, locking her sniper rifle back into place on her back, and turned to glance down at the Commander. "Well then," she exhaled, pressed her lips into a line of grim determination. "Let's head back and tell the others what we've found. Tell them to brace themselves."

He rose, too, head cocked quizzically. "What for?"

A two-word answer: "For war."


Aboard The Athenian, outskirts of Monastir, New Harmony, unknown system, February 17th, 2559

For the time being, the importance of telling the other Spartans about what she'd seen on Reach was at the back of Artemis' mind. Today she was focused on relaxing and having some time to herself. Well, technically she'd always been able to have time to herself, but... today was an exception. Because today, was the day of her twenty-sixth birthday. A minor celebration, but it was one that Noble Team still made note to remember. All of their birthdays were of some importance; it helped them bond, and helped them feel a little more... normal.

Oddly enough, Carter had also kept mum about it, but then, he'd been oddly distracted for the past few weeks. She wouldn't put it past him that he'd all but forgotten what he'd seen. She'd have to interrogate him later, regardless; his distractedness was becoming a problem.

That, however, was currently the last thing on her mind. First was breakfast, and coffee, maybe a nice hot shower... curl up with her latest novel in a sunny nook – which she was more than halfway through – and read. Zone out from the goings-on around her, and focus on being peaceful. Tomorrow, she could think about war. Today, however, was one day out of a whole... three hundred-something – varied depending on what planet they were on – in which she could just forget everything important.

She didn't have to panic, or get worried, or anything of the like. All she had to do was –

Bark.

That was... unusual. For a moment, the Spartan pondered why there was a dog aboard the frigate, before shrugging and chalking it up to belonging to one of the UNSC soldiers aboard the ship.

BARK!

...Or maybe not. It sounded too close for comfort. The particular section of hallway in which her quarters was located, also housed the quarters belonging to the rest of Noble Team, plus Blue Team. There were spare quarters beyond that, and even further away were quarters belonging to UNSC soldiers. Nobody passed through this sector save for the Spartans.

Hurriedly she pulled on her favourite cargo pants, and chucked on a light grey top, before darting out into the hallway.

...Only to freeze.

There, a puppy, with light blue eyes framed in a rather elegant-looking – well, for a dog, anyway – face, was staring up at her. The puppy's ears flopped every which way – almost adorable, really. The coat colour was a soft, somewhat mottled grey, with a white blotch on the snout, and a white, vaguely upside-down axe-shaped splotch on the chest.

The puppy barked again, and it snuffed at her feet, tail wagging.

"You look like a wolf," Artemis said to it, crouching down and scooping it up carefully. "Hey little fella." The puppy wriggled and licked her cheek in response, causing her to laugh and push its head away. "Stop that, it tickles."

This was too strange. A puppy, sitting outside her quarters, barking? That had to be a coincidence. Right? And yet... The Spartan frowned, gently tugging at the teal-coloured bow around the pup's neck, until she found a tag, where the bow was tied on. In small, neat handwriting, it read: for Artemis.

"That's not an accident. You were put there deliberately. But I don't recognize the handwriting." she mused. She'd had not much chance to look over her team's handwriting, especially since more often than not, they wrote things on a datapad, and therefore used the default fonts.

"What's not an accident?" Emile's eyebrows were drawn together in the manner that stated he was confused. He checked to make sure his door had slid shut before striding across the hallway to her. "What've you got there?"

Artemis could have slapped him for being an idiot, but she knew he was only messing with her. He must have been in on this. There was a gleam in his green eyes that suggested he knew something she didn't, and that he was keeping it from her. With great care, she set the puppy on the ground, eyeing it for a moment to make sure it didn't wander off, before stepping forward to wrap the assault specialist in an embrace. The scent of gunpowder and rust that was so familiar to him clung to her nostrils, and she sighed and pressed her forehead against his chest.

"Okay, okay, I get that you're happy kid." Emile chuckled and patted her on the back, his arms coming around her to return the gesture.

"Thankyou," her voice was muffled by the material of his black t-shirt.

"Sure, although it wasn't my idea."

Artemis pulled away just enough to look him in the eye. "Then whose idea was it to get me a puppy for my birthday? Because I have to go and hug them, too." She'd just hugged Emile because she felt like it, and because he was the first person that she'd come across this morning.

The assault specialist must have seen something in her own eyes, something that meant she was planning to all but squish the one who'd decided to give her a puppy, because he paused. They all knew that when she was feeling particularly emotional in a positive way, her hugs could be somewhat... tight. "...Uh. That'd be the Commander."

"Uh-huh. And where is he as of now?" She stepped away from him, cocking her head. If he wasn't going to tell her, she'd have to beat – nicely, of course – the information out of him.

Emile shrugged. Apparently he wasn't going to be a stubborn as a mule today. "Hell if I know. You'd have to run laps of the frigate before you'd manage to find him though."

She was going to do exactly that. She pressed two fingers to his cheek in a gesture of affection, and then pointed at the pup on the floor. "Take care of Rookie for me. I'm gonna go thank the idiot before he disappears and I waste my day looking for him." She darted off, her speed telling in that moment, as she was gone before Emile even had the chance to ask what kind of a name was Rookie.

He shrugged, bent down, and scooped the puppy into his arms. "Rookie, huh? Well, how about you and I go for a little walk? It's nice weather this time of year outside. We can get you exercise..." He wandered down the hallway, talking to Rookie and stroking his ears.


John staggered back a step, as if he'd been slapped. "What?" Surprise flickered across his face, and his eyebrows furrowed into a confused frown.

"I said-" Artemis opened her mouth to speak, but the Spartan-II cut her off midsentence with a shake of his head, and she closed her mouth again.

"That's not-… How-? Why-?" He frowned more heavily, head swinging from side to side again. This didn't make any sense. Why would the Office of Naval Intelligence want to clone him? Sure, the wanting to replicate him in case he died or went rouge made sense, but why not just train someone to be like him? Cloning him was a horrific thing to do moral-wise, surely. Who would be so…so heartless as to do such a thing?

He suddenly felt lightheaded with the revelation, and so caught off-guard it actually made him weak at the knees. He seated himself on the grass, hand coming up to rub at his temple. This went over his head. He wasn't stupid - not by far - but this…this was just beyond his level of understanding.

He could feel the younger Spartan's gaze on him, and if he flicked his eyes upwards, he saw that her head was tilted in puzzlement, almost like a puppy. Laughable, if not given the situation, and the concern he saw on her features.

"Are you alright?" she questioned gently, plopping onto the ground in front of him.

John scrubbed a hand over his face, huffed a noise that might have been laughter - albeit with traces of bitterness - and lifted his shoulders in a faint shrug. "I'm just…processing this. And tired, I guess." he mumbled. "I want to go home. Back to Reach. But I know that's not possible. It hurts, I'll admit. I feel…I feel lost. I have Blue Team, and…and I have Noble Team too, I suppose, but….I just feel lost."

"You're not the only one." Artemis gently touched his shoulder, before shifting to sit beside him instead of facing him. "You're not alone there. The amount of times I've wanted to go back to Reach…or Onyx, although less so than Reach. I was in New Alexandria as it was glassed around me. Almost lost Kat if it weren't for my quick thinking. It was…hell, to watch my home burn around me. But after awhile, I got over it, because I learned that home is wherever NOBLE is. Whether it be on a frigate in space, on the surface of New Harmony, or on the battlefield…wherever NOBLE is, I'm home. Because they're my heart, and….home is where the heart is. Never thought I'd be agreein' with civvies, but…it's true."

Her gaze drifted to the other Spartans not far beyond them, interacting with one another happily. Her eyes tracked a tennis ball that Emile tossed for Rookie, who barked and ran after it. She saw Jun and Linda quietly comparing notes on how to be a better marksman. Fred and Carter were bickering over which DMR was the superior - the earlier M392 model, or the later M395 model. There were Kat, Jorge, and Kelly, all working on making burgers for the teams – together. Everyone was together, and everyone happy.

"You know, when I found out who I really was, at first I was upset, because I didn't believe I was human – or that I even deserved to be. And then I was angry, because I didn't want to spend my life living in your shadow; in the shade of your greatness. Later still, I gave all of that up. I learned that I was a hero in my own right. And that although I could never be as good as you…well…I figured that who better to be my role model than my own big brother? I hoped some day that I could meet you, and… I guess I got lucky, because here we are."

John looked at her, then, really looked at her, and he saw that she was serene. And truly happy. He decided then and there that he wanted to be like that…he wanted his younger sister to be his role model, just as he was hers. Because who said he couldn't? He made his own damn decisions, thankyou very much.

And then he made the decision to wrap his arm around the younger Spartan's shoulders, gently pulling her to his side. "Then I will choose you as my role model," he stated quietly, "Who better to aspire to be than your own flesh and blood? As you said."

"That's a ….sound decision." Artemis stifled a yawn and rested her head on a broad shoulder, a sigh slipping past her lips. "And y'know what?"

"What?"

"I couldn't ask for a better big brother than you, John."

That thought warmed the Spartan's heart, and his lips curved into a faint smile. "I couldn't ask for a better younger sister, kid," he answered fondly.


Aboard UNSC Infinity, in orbit above Forerunner Shield World Requiem, Epoloch system, February 22nd, 2559

"Slipspace rupture detected, eleven hundred kilometres off the Hyperion's aft." Roland announced, his avatar winking into view a few centimetre's above the holotable. "Captain. They're registered as the Stalwart Dawn, a frigate not seen or heard of since Reach."

Something cold ran down Lasky's spine, and he looked towards the AI. "You're certain?" He wanted to be sure. He felt unease, deep down. Two UNSC ships, gone for years on end, suddenly reappearing in space above Requiem? Something was going on. Currently, the other vessel – The Atlanta – hung in geosync orbit in full view of the Infinity. Her crew had made contact with the Spartans on the ground once, and had gone silent ever since. And now there was another ship.

Roland nodded. "Yes Sir. They're not hailing anyone, and get this – they're moving towards the surface. Commander Pescoe thought they were gonna swing into geosync orbit like the Dawn Under Heaven, but the frigate's vector is taking them straight to the surface. All efforts to hail the Stalwart Dawn's captain have been ignored."

Lasky rubbed his jawline, his gaze drifting to the viewport, staring at the steely grey Halcyon cruiser. This wasn't sitting right with him. Were they survivors of long ago space battles? It seemed unlikely. From what he could tell, the Dawn Under Heaven was in good shape. Her hull had clearly been repainted from the original matte black, and there was a white slash on her starboard flank as well. As he watched, the Stalwart Dawn streamed into view, obscuring his vision of the cruiser. The frigate, too, had a white slash of paint on her starboard flank, although she didn't look to be painted differently to her original colour. And the frigate looked to be in tiptop shape, just like the cruiser.

Something fishy was definitely going on.


A Pelican swooped low over the battlefield.

The Spartan-IVs that were currently locked in a stalemate with the Storm Covenant and the Promethean constructs of Requiem stared in disbelief, momentarily abandoning their planning for the next move of the battle. First strange thing was the arrival of the Halcyon-class cruiser. And now, just arriving, was a Stalwart-class frigate, and it was sending a dropship towards the surface.

"What the hell?" Palmer muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. Unease sat in her gut, and settled there. Something didn't feel right about this.

"Ma'am? That's not one of ours, is it?" Spartan Harkness questioned, resting the butt off his SRS99-S5 on his shoulder, barrel pointing high into the sky behind his head.

"I don't think so." Spartan Grant answered, before Palmer could get a word in edgewise. Her M395 rested by her feet, and her PATHFINDER helmet was tucked under her arm. "Captain Lasky would have notified us of reinforcements."

"No way," Palmer heard Spartan Thorne breathing in excitement. She turned around, and watched as none other than Blue Team marching down the Pelican's exterior ramp, followed by six – six? – Spartans clad in much older-looking MJOLNIR armour.

"Thorne?"

"I know who they are." The younger S-IV was practically vibrating with excitement, and there was awe in his gentle brown eyes. "The Spartans with Blue Team? They're Noble Team. Everyone thought they'd died on Reach, but I'd recognize those armour configurations anywhere." He nodded towards the only one in the group with a visor tinted blue. "That Spartan especially. We Army Troopers called her the hero of New Alexandria. She saved a lot of lives."

Palmer frowned, watching the two teams of Spartans striding closer and closer. Was it just her, or was their time on Requiem continually getting stranger the longer they were there? She'd have to bring it up with Lasky later. For now, though, she would have to settle on confronting these Spartans. She saw out of the corner of her eye, Fireteams Majestic and Etilka pausing in what they were doing – those who weren't already looking – and glancing over towards the newcomers. They clustered around, chatting quietly to one another, but Palmer tuned them out.

"Spartan Palmer." The Master Chief stopped short, and the two teams gathered behind him. "We'll be taking command of this mission."

That was unusual.

Protocol dictated that he state who gave such orders, and as of what time the mission command had changed hands. Something was off.

"On whose orders?" the S-IV demanded.

The only response was a one-word reply. "Ours."

Murmurs from the Spartans behind her came more sharply. Some of them sounded almost alarmed. Palmer herself remained silent, contemplative, jaw clenched.

"I'd best listen to what he has to say. Wouldn't want to offend the man that disobeyed his superior officer's orders just to assist the motherfuckin' Master Chief." One of those gathered behind the Master Chief, a Spartan with a white grinning skull etched onto the visor of his EVA helmet, seemed to be glaring at everyone who wasn't on his team.

How the hell do these guys know about that?

That event had taken place almost two years ago. Unless the Chief had gone and told them – which she doubted, because he hardly spoke to anyone outside his own team – then they wouldn't know. That was another thing that now didn't sit right with Palmer.

"You know how to follow orders, don't you?" A new voice spoke up, and the Spartan Commander glanced to its owner, a smaller-looking Spartan wearing what looked to be an older version of Spartan Harkness' NOBLE-class MJOLNIR. Given the name, it was perhaps what the GEN2 kit was based off. "You should follow ours then. Mine specifically. You know how the ranking system works. Spartan-117 here told me that Commander is just a title for you. Well for me, Commander is a rank. And therefore, since you have no rank..."

He outranks me. He even outranks the Master Chief's second-in-command, Spartan-104. What the hell is going on?

"We'll follow your orders, Sir." Spartan Perez spoke up, and the other IVs murmured agreement.

Oh great, a Spartan mutiny. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em...

"Fine." Palmer spoke through gritted teeth. "We'll follow your orders. Commander."

"I'd watch my tone." The Spartan that Thorne had referred to as the hero of New Alexandria piped up defensively. A few seconds later, Spartan tags and ranks popped up on the HUD of Palmer's SCOUT helmet. This stranger was a Lieutenant. Even she outranked Spartan-104, and she sounded awfully young to be a Spartan – in fact, she couldn't possibly have been much older than Thorne. "We have twice the experience on our side than you do, Spartan Palmer. We know what we're doing." She sounded like she was sneering, or at the very least, her tone had a superior air to it.

Just who does this Noble Team think they are?


"You're seeing this, right Grant?" Madsen questioned over the COMMs. He'd been sighting down a Promethean Knight, only to wind up watching it get annihilated through his SRS99-S5's scope by Spartan-A266. He'd blinked and the thing was gone; that was how quick the shot had been. He'd heard that Spartan-058 was legendary with her marksmanship skills, but he was quite sure that A266 would give her a run for her money.

"I'm definitely not blind," Grant muttered, dealing with a trio of Promethean Soldiers. The bastards were tricky enough to shoot, what with the fact that they kept teleporting everywhere, the moment she was able to get a shot in.

Thorne beside them almost jumped when there came an inhuman roar, before the big mountain of a Spartan known as Chief Warrant Officer 052 ploughed into a crowd of Grunts, knocking a few of them off their feet, and peppering others with enough bullets that they were torn to shreds. He wielded a heavy-looking machine gun, and there was a lot of heavy extra plating on his armour, and yet he moved like a freight train, mowing down anything that got in his way.

Noble Team and Blue Team worked together as one big, well-oiled fighting machine. Despite the fact that the Spartans of Noble had inferior armour compared to the GEN2 kits that Blue wore, they still kept up well enough. It was all an intense blur of motion, action and reaction, shooting and weaponless fighting. It was mesmerizing to watch, and more often than not, the S-IVs got distracted from a target, only to watch one of the newcomers take it out with ease. They all knew that Blue Team were the best fighters out of every Spartan aboard the Infinity and then some, but Noble Team were absolutely ruthless. Fast, deadly, wordlessly signalling to one another and to Blue Team, calling out targets and lines of fire, warning one another of danger, giving one another support.

It was intense. Like an action movie that the IVs just couldn't get enough of.

They watched as Lieutenant B312 – Thorne's hero of New Alexandria – sliced through one Elite's armour with her Energy Sword like butter after breaking its shields, before spinning around to take out a Jackal that would have taken out her own shields, had she not been so fast. If it had been one of them, their shields would have taken the hit, but this Spartan was too quick.

The ranks of their enemies were thinning out, and Fireteams Majestic and Etilka were doing hardly any of the heavy lifting.

"I'm sure I recognize at least two of them in particular but for the life of me I can't remember where from. I know of B312 because I fought under her at Reach, but 052 and A259 look... familiar." Harkness remarked quietly. Luckily, the two sets of teams were using different COMM frequencies at this point in time; he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hold a conversation with these strange Spartans right now. In fact, none of them did – not even Palmer, and she wasn't happy about the whole situation.

"Didn't you mention to me once or twice how this big, green-armoured Spartan saved the lives of you and your older brother, way back when you were a kid?" Perez answered, sending a Grunt flying with a Ground Pound. "Said his name was... George or something?"

"Yeah..." Harkness unloaded a round into a Knight, reloaded, and fired again. "That's right. That must be why 052 is so familiar, because he's the Spartan who kicked that Hunter's ass. Gotta be him – I mean, how many Spartan-IIs are that big?"

The Master Chief and his team looked rather small compared to the Chief Warrant Officer, and that was saying something, because the Spartan-IIs were tall; powerfully built. But 052 stood over all of them by at least a head, and he was built like a mountain.

"Still, don't know why their Commander is so familiar. Sure, his armour's what mine's based off – but... eh, I don't know. Must be déjà vu."

"Could chalk it up to that. You could also ask them later." Spartan Hoya piped up, unloading buckshot into a Jackal's chest. "They can't be as scary as they look."

Harkness drifted for a few moments, but was jerked into awareness from a shot whizzing past his head. He ducked and spun, only to find that the Promethean Soldier targeting him was nothing more than a fizzling pile of hardlight. He espied A259 staring at him, before a growl emanated from the helmet's speakers; a warning. "Maintain focus at all times. If it weren't for me, that Soldier would have taken your shields out." The S-IV was left staring as the taller Spartan turned and moved to join his teammates elsewhere.

He could have sworn black and blue that A259's voice had sounded awfully familiar...