Chapter 6 – Stop Running
Lunch had always been my favourite meal of the day because of several reasons. The first was that back when I was a child it meant a good hour or more of time spent in air-conditioned comfort, which was heaven after spending the entire morning out on the farm in the hot sun. The second was that people were much friendlier around lunch time because they'd spent just the right amount of time out of bed before getting tired. I was currently enjoying both of these points in the mess hall of the Mother of Invention. It was both lovely and cool, and my fellow Agents were surprisingly chipper even after their humiliating defeat during training.
"So where are you from Flo?" I asked Florida, whom I'd already given a nickname that he actually seemed to like, even though it was quite feminine. Then again this is Florida I'm thinking about. Pretty much a tamer version of Donut.
"Proudly born and raised on Reach!"
Reach, I remembered, was an inner colony planet considered to be the military hub of the UNSC. It was the home of the Spartan-II program, and was also going to be heavily glassed in two years by the Covenant. I wished that I could tell Florida that last fact, but I wouldn't be able to explain how I knew that information without being placed into a padded cell.
"Me too!" Georgia cheered excitedly. Florida, Georgia and I then looked expectantly at the other Agents, silently asking them to divulge their birth-places.
"Do I even have to answer?" Wyoming laughed and we shook our heads side-to-side.
"Kuiper, Circumstance," Maine answered around a mouthful of his lunch.
New Mexico was the only one to not answer yet and was unusually quiet; hiding his discomfort underneath the ruse of drinking his soda.
"What about you Nex?" I asked softly. He choked and spluttered on his drink at the nickname I'd decided for him.
"Nex?" he wheezed out after coughing.
"Yeah well, I was getting sick of saying your long ass name and so decided to shorten it by fusing the two words together."
"Why not Mex then?" he asked in confusion.
"Mexico is its own country, it wouldn't work."
"Wait," he started before asking after a pause, "Mexico is a country?"
Wyoming and I, being the only two from Earth, laughed and nodded in answer to his question.
"It's right on the other side of the border from New Mexico, as well as California, Texas and Arizona," Wyoming explained.
"So Nex, where you from then? Cause it's obviously not America," I asked and then laughed.
"Harvest," he said, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. We all stopped laughing immediately.
"Hey, I'm sorry…" I started to apologise before he interrupted me.
"It's okay Ari, my family and I were on holiday when it was glassed. I was a baby at the time. Only lost some distant cousins."
"Well then, I'll change my question to where were you raised?" I asked with a sympathetic smile.
His frown turned up-side down when he answered with, "Sedra." Sedra I knew, was never glassed during the war, although they would be attacked in 2556 by a bioweapon made of an element from Halo installation 04. From what I'd seen of the planet when watching Halo: Nightfall the planet was beautiful; with lush green forests and clear streams.
"Awesome," I said enthusiastically and the other Agents nodded in agreeance.
There was a sudden lull in the conversation as we all reminisced about our home-worlds while finishing our food. It was broken by Wyoming asking me a question I didn't have much knowledge about other than the basic information. "So I heard from Florida that you're a doctor. Where did you serve?"
"Casbah, Tribute, mostly hospital work really."
"So you were telling the truth about that earlier," Maine didn't asked but rather stated.
I nodded before rebuking, "I doubt lying to the Director would put me in good stead Maine." He just grunted and crossed his arms.
"Well like Florida said yesterday," Georgia began, "I'm glad we have a doctor, you'll probably save our butts once we go out on missions."
"Speaking of which," Nex interrupted, "I don't know whether or not you've all noticed yet, but we've got a mission briefing scheduled tonight at 1800."
While I nodded because I'd read the schedule, Florida let out a 'whoop' of excitement, Maine once again grunted, Wyoming muttered 'oh bother' and Georgia let out a groan before saying, "But we'll miss out on all the good food at dinner!"
Nex laughed before he leaned in towards him and whispered, "It can't be any worse than dinner last night."
We all laughed at the reference to what was now dubbed as the 'slip-stew incident'. We then proceeded to leave the mess hall as a group towards our scheduled class after a quick stop-by past our rooms for writing materials, also known as our tablets. On arrival I groaned when I noticed the medical equipment strewn about the desks and the heading on the holo-projector that said 'Field Medicine 101'. The others laughed, with all of them asking to sit next to me for pointers.
"Only if you can write my notes down for me too," I said after taking a seat, lifting my feet onto the desk and leaning back comfortably. Unfortunately I didn't feel that much at ease after I saw Nex's eyes rake my stretched body and linger on the exposed flesh of my stomach where my shirt had ridden up.
Noticing my quickly reddening face he laughed awkwardly before moving to address the other Agents. "By that she means if you can read and write in Sangheili because that's the language her tablet is set as."
"Aww," both Florida and Georgia said at the same time.
In the end the Counsellor walked in and asked us to each take a seat in front of a med-pack; which were dispersed over different rows. He also added in his sickly silky voice, "Agent Arizona, you are more than welcome to sit out this class today, given your previous training on this matter."
"I've got nothing better to do," I replied honestly. Although the guy gave me the creeps, he was nice enough. Plus, I had only started learning about modern medical techniques the previous night during some quick study, so I needed to listen to this class. My brain had for some stupid reason supplied me the necessary knowledge to understand an entire alien language, but not anything about my own damn profession.
It turned out to actually be a relatively interesting and informative class. I took notes throughout; under the guise of my journal reports when the Counsellor questioned me. Thankfully I wasn't asked any medical questions and I was also pointedly not looking at New Mexico the entire time. That look he'd given me earlier had sent shivers down my spine and sparked an uncomfortable warmth in my gut. I couldn't be distracted from my 'mission' by feelings and such; I already knew I was going to have enough trouble acting professional around York, North and Wash since they were some of my favourite characters in the series. Especially Wash, I mused.
I was brought out of my thoughts when the Counsellor ended the class. Grabbing my tablet I was the first out of the room and booked it to a place where I could work off some of my, less than desirable thoughts; the gym. I had already planned on going there after class anyway so I was already dressed and ready for the occasion. I didn't even stretch before jumping onto a treadmill, pulling out my tablet and putting on my wireless headphones that Florida had given me after training. He'd heard me playing music in the gym that morning as he passed by, heading towards the pool, and figured I'd like a pair. Apparently they had a pool on board the ship which I thought was odd.
I was in such a rush because New Mexico had followed me into the gym; obviously with the same idea I had, maybe also to talk to me. Using a handy feature I'd found on my tablet before lunch, I started my playlist with my mind. Well technically I used the neural link I had set up earlier to remotely use the tablet. It had made it very easy to write out my notes during class. I set the treadmill to a speed that I could lope along at for hours on end. I intended to run until New Mexico left, or until I had a reasonable excuse to have to rush out before the briefing. I had no idea why I was being so childish about what had happened, I was a twenty-three year old adult in the military after all. So instead of thinking about it I turned my music up to almost painful levels and raked up the miles on the treadmill. New Mexico was somehow always within eyesight, working out using heavy weights. I found my attention shifting more towards him when I noticed he'd taken off his shirt. With his back towards me I gazed over his well-defined muscles before I nearly tripped on the treadmill and had to return my focus to running.
From the corner of my eye I saw him turn towards me at the sound my clumsiness had made. I increased the speed of my treadmill as a silent rebuke to any thoughts he might have had that I was getting tired and therefore clumsy. I heard him snort, obviously not thinking that tiredness was the reason I'd stumbled. He's definitely smart. I decided to think of less pleasant thoughts regarding New Mexico. Rather than thinking about what his abs might look like, I instead thought about why he wasn't on the leader board in the future. Does he die? I asked myself and I was suddenly panicked by that prospect.
While I was lost in my own mind I hadn't noticed Nex move closer to the treadmills. I also didn't notice him press the pause button on my tablet and the music turn off. Didn't notice the silence afterwards due to my un-noticed erratic breathing from the exertion of running at a full sprint for over an hour. I even didn't feel the treadmill slow down as Nex turned it off gradually. I was so out of my mind in panic that the only thing I eventually noticed was Nex's hand gently gripping my elbow and pulling me down off the machine, proceeding then to place me into a seat as I hyper-ventilated. I was only then feeling the effects of the last two days; I had just lost my family, my friends, a chance at the normal life I was looking forward to after my deployment. I felt the weight of the lives of the people I had to save, resting on my figurative shoulders. Then I felt the weight of two hands from one of those people on my actual shoulders; as Nex knelt in front of me and spoke to me reassuringly. Eventually his words brought me out of my panic induced mind and I felt the tracks of water that had run down my face like a waterfall. I told myself that I hadn't been crying, but rather that my difficulty breathing had made my eyes water.
"You're safe here Ari," I heard Nex say. "Nothing is going to chase you or hurt you while I'm here." He probably was thinking I was suffering from PTSD from some sort of Covenant attack or something. He was probably right in thinking it was PTSD. Moving his hands from my shoulders, he then placed them on my cheeks instead, bringing my face up to his to look in my eyes. I don't know what it was that his blue eye saw in my green ones; but it made him dip and press his forehead to mine in a comforting gesture.
I'd had finally regained my breath when I said in a cracked voice, "Thank you." He took that as his cue to move away from me and I suddenly missed the presence of his rough, calloused hands and smooth, freckled forehead. He ran a hand through his orange-red hair, the colour of which reminded me of his armour. That thought then reminded me that it was getting late and we had a briefing soon. I swung my gaze away from Nex and towards the screen displaying the time; 1745, a mere fifteen minutes before we were to meet the director.
There was no way I could arrive at the bridge in my current state; dripping with sweat and tear tracks. Nex must have noticed what I was looking at, decided that I was sound enough of mind to go to the briefing, and followed me as I ran out of the gym towards the private quarters. I had no idea how I was still able to run after the abuse I'd just put my body through. I thanked all the deities throughout history that I made it to my room, and that we had private bathrooms. I was back out in the hallway five minutes later, as well as Nex who didn't let me jog to the bridge, making the usual five-minute walk seven. As we entered the bridge with half-a-minute to spare, the attention of the Director, Counsellor and other three Agents focused on us, and I almost stopped dead in my tracks and groan in pain at a sudden realisation.
The three Freelancer agents had seen both Nex and I enter the gym after class by ourselves. They were all seeing my blonde hair that I hadn't had time to wash, and so had brushed and placed it into a rough and messy bun. They saw Nex's wet and messy hair from an obviously rushed shower, and lastly they saw me flushed and out of breath from the walk there. They could probably be assuming a lot about what had happened after class. None of them were probably innocent assumptions.
FUCK!