Chapter Five: A Trusted Friend
October 1, 2552 1425 hours
Mitchell Residence
North America
Nicole Mitchell opened the door of her house to find four large strangers on her porch. She knew without a doubt who and what they were. They look just like Laura, except for their faces. Why did they come here? Before she could even invite them in, however, a bundle of red-gold fur came flying past her on stubby little white legs, its long pink tongue hanging out and ready to slobber on unsuspecting faces.
"Skeeter! Down, boy, down!"
The little corgi had no intention of listening; as soon as he got onto the porch, nearly catapulting himself off of it with his momentum, he was jumping up on the newcomers in a vain attempt to lick their faces. One of the strangers, a red-haired woman with intense green eyes, stooped down to pet the little dog and promptly received a free face washing as a reward.
"I'm terribly sorry. Skeeter likes people, and has a tendency to get overly friendly. He's actually quite harmless. Please, come in."
The Master Chief was uneasy as he followed his comrades inside a potentially dangerous situation: the whole thing felt like a set-up. She was expecting us to come. What else does she know? The house was pleasantly and tastefully furnished, not enough to be gaudy, but more than enough to display a woman's touch. Nicole gestured to a number of chairs in her living room, which Linda and Will immediately took; Fred and John chose to stand. The little dog, having finally worn itself out, lay down under a small table, his foxy face and syrupy dark eyes watching the newcomers intently; the way his tongue was just barely hanging out of his mouth gave him the impression of laughing at the newcomers. Nicole, however, looked steadily and seriously at the Spartans.
"I had a feeling you'd be around eventually, but I was hoping you wouldn't come. Over the years I've come to know what really happens in the military, and how some of the officers try to run things. Your being here can't be any good. So let's dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business. What do you want with her?"
"Miss Mitchell, perhaps you've gotten the wrong impression. We're not her with bad intentions, but to find out more about your friend." John's attempt to placate the woman met with mild surprise.
"If you're curious, why not ask around the base? I'm sure someone there knows something, Mr…"
"John will do."
"John. A nice name. I suppose you don't have a last name to go with it. Have you tried asking any of the officers?"
"We were told it was classified, and as yet have been unsuccessful in viewing her CSV. All we know is that she's one of us." Nicole seemed to find this amusing.
"I'm not surprised, with Lorienna watching it like a hawk. How did you try to view it, with an AI?" When they nodded, she explained. "Laura's been hacking into their systems for years, but finally decided she needed more help. So she found it, after a fashion."
Heading to a computer terminal, Nicole entered a series of commands into the system, prompting a request for a voiceprint and retina scan. When those were complete, Nicole began talking to empty air.
"I assume you were listening, Lorienna?"
"Of course, Miss Mitchell. Like my creator, I don't miss very much. Besides, I enjoy giving ONI the slip; right now they think you're playing with Skeeter in the backyard, having sent your guests away empty-handed." The voice and the merry laughter that followed sounded familiar, despite the obviously synthesized tones. "I assume these are the people who used the AI to try and crack into ONI's database? Cortana and I have been having a nice little chat about encryptions and the like." Nicole smiled at the voice's lilting chatter and turned back to her guests.
"Laura learned how to create an AI without ONI's knowledge or assistance; I still don't know how she did it. She also programmed her with everything she could think of, as well as the motivation to use those programs and upgrade herself as much as possible. Not only does Lorienna help keep us informed and one step ahead of ONI, especially in regards to keeping our secrets secret, she also provides us with good company, in her own way. Lorienna, could you be so kind as to show yourself?"
A slender, foot-high figure appeared next to Nicole. The AI had taken the form of a young woman in a flowing blue gown trimmed in silver. Her hair was dark and hung loosely down her back to her waist, held in place by a silver circlet set with a single deep-blue stone. What surprised the Spartans most was her face; except for the merry look in her dark eyes, the face was Laura's. She looked at the Spartans and smiled knowingly, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"Do you know the names of your guests, Miss Mitchell?"
"I was waiting for them to tell me in their own time."
"But they won't, not unless you ask them. Should I save you the trouble? After all, its only fair that you know something about them in exchange for Laura's information."
"Let's not go there. It would be a breach of trust to divulge anything." She turned back to the Spartans, a troubled look on her face.
"Laura trusts me implicitly, and has ever since I forced her to tell me who and what she was. I will not break that trust and risk putting her into harm's way or losing her friendship. I can't help you, but I'll give you some advice: Stay away from her. She's been getting suspicious ever since Colonel Ackerson came back to Earth, there's bad blood there. You don't want to be on her bad side."
Taking their cue, the Spartans left.
October 3, 2552 1045 hours
Training Facility
UNSC Reserve Base Camp Hayes
North America
The four Spartans were observing another of Laura's workouts when they noticed about fifty ODSTs gathering around the arena. Several of them were muttering to each other, and all of them were watching her with overt hostility.
"This could get ugly," Linda said, motioning to the various Helljumpers.
"Let's see how she does first." Fred was still skeptical, and still upset by having had Laura best him in close combat.
Meanwhile, Laura seemed totally oblivious to the trouble gathering around her, until she finished her workout; as she was packing up her equipment, she heard someone spit out her codename like a swearword.
"Blade!" Laura turned around, pasting a smile on her face: the Spartans could tell it wasn't real or friendly.
"I hope you're all here for a pleasant little chat, but maybe it's a little too warm in here for that kind of thing." The seemingly nonchalant tone in her voice only served to irritate them.
"You're good at taking out unarmed men one at a time. Let's see how well you do against all of us." The Helljumpers nodded their assent, looking like sharks among a school of fat fish.
"I certainly wouldn't dream of taking on all of you at once, that would be way too easy. Why don't you just go home and rest?"
That remark was more than the Helljumpers could take. As one, they stormed into the arena, intent on killing her right there. She easily dodged several of them, incapacitating several more with quick martial-arts attacks. A number of them lost heart and ran, but Laura still had forty more to deal with.
"And you call yourselves soldiers? My niece and nephew could do better." She laughed, a harsh sound which only made them angrier.
The Spartans watched in amazement as she continued to laugh at them. "She seems to be enjoying herself, a bit too much," Will muttered.
"No, she's not. She doesn't like this at all." The new voice belonged to a young woman who had come up behind them. Nicole Mitchell watched Laura dodge and laugh in the arena, shaking her head.
"That's not real laughter. It's just another weapon in her arsenal. She explained it to me once: If your enemy gets angry, he'll make mistakes that could give you the upper hand. She's goading them into making mistakes."
"How can you tell, Miss Mitchell?"
"I've heard her real laughter. It's so much different from this; it has more music to it. Lorienna's laughter is the same way. If you ever hear her when she's happy, you'll understand; until then, believe me when I say that her laughter is empty of anything right now. It's just another weapon." With that, she turned and walked away, leaving the Spartans with a lot more to think about.
Meanwhile, Laura had whittled her opposition down to about thirty-five, and the Helljumpers were clearly losing patience. They began to attack a few at a time, and some of them snuck around behind her and grabbed her by the throat; Laura flipped backwards, causing them to lose their grips, and sprinted to a new location in the arena. One of her opponents grabbed a M6D pistol and aimed at her—Laura dove for her blades and drew them, expecting the worst. The soldier fired a full clip at her face, but everyone was surprised by what happened next: bringing her knives to bear, Laura deflected the rounds into the dirt, the walls, and the arena barriers, using her training with the bladed disks to great effect.
If the Helljumpers hadn't been pissed before, they were now. Laura found herself in a bit of difficulty: their anger gave them new energy, and she was backed into a corner and tiring rapidly. As easy as it would be to kill them, and as justified as it would be, I can't. We need every man and more for this war. No sooner did she think this than thirty-five pissed off ODSTs converged on her position. Laura slipped into jujitsu, but there were too many of them. Concentrating on survival, she almost didn't notice when the Spartans decided to lend a hand. What the hell are they doing? As grateful as she was for the assistance, she was still a bit worried, not surprising considering ONI seemed determined to destroy her of late. When everything was over (five minutes later), she shot all four of them a steely glare, not letting her fears or her gratitude show.
"What the hell were you thinking? Now you've made yourselves targets."
"We figured you could use a hand," the quiet guy answered. She mentally reviewed files and came up with a name—Will, SPARTAN-043.
"You wasted your time. I can take care of myself, just as well as she can." Laura gestured to the red-haired woman (Linda, SPARTAN-058).
"Fine, then next time we won't even bother," Fred snapped.
"Good. And while you're at it, stay far away from me, unless you want to see what happens when I really get pissed." With that parting shot, Laura stalked off to the showers. Nicole, who had stopped at the edge of the gym, watched her friend stomp away and shook her blonde head sadly.
The Spartans noticed Nicole standing there and approached warily. Nicole saw them coming and made no move to turn away. If they'd wanted her dead they would have let the Helljumpers kill her. They deserve a bit of an explanation, but I'll have to be careful not to say too much.
"It's a bit nerve-racking, I know. She's not used to letting her other side out."
"What other side? She didn't seem too pleased that we saved her ass in there," Fred fumed quietly, finally getting his temper under control; the entire situation had rattled him.
"It's not that simple. She was grateful, but she's also got a lot of pride. It takes a lot for her to admit she needs help, no matter what the area. She's also worried about this whole ONI thing, if not downright scared. That bitter, angry exterior is just a front, one she uses whenever she thinks ONI is around; underneath it all she's kind, strong, and sad."
"How can you tell?" Linda asked--Nicole had done a bit of hacking with Lorienna after they'd left, and knew all their names.
"I've known Laura for years, and I can read her like a book as a result. No matter how she tries, she can't hide anything from me. It doesn't help that she's been forced to be alone for so long that she's become self-reliant. Only a few people are allowed to get close to her: her family, General West, my brother Nathan, and me."
"How did she even allow you to get close, if she's as much of a loner as you say?" the one named John asked.
"It's a long story, too long for now. A few years after I'd met her, which wasn't as hard as you might think, I caught her practicing in her mom's backyard. That's when I confronted her: she was so tired of having no one besides her family to turn to that she told me everything, and does to this day. The funny thing is, in the beginning she came to me and befriended me, not exactly what you'd expect from a loner." Nicole stopped, and her face showed an internal struggle as she tried to think of what to tell them next.
"She's been under a lot of stress since Ackerson came back to Earth, and since he's decided she's… no longer fit for combat duty." The way she said this sent a chill up the Spartans' spines. "It doesn't help that he's concocted rumors of her being a traitor, either. Why do you think those ODSTs were so eager to kill her? It wasn't because she insulted them with her nonchalance. If she even showed one moment of weakness, Ackerson would jump all over it."
"Why are you even telling us all this? Yesterday you said if you told us anything you'd be betraying your friend," John pointed out quietly.
"If you were going to kill her, you wouldn't have tried to help her earlier. As far as betrayals go, I think she needs your help more than she even knows herself—it would be an even greater betrayal to keep my mouth shut and do nothing. I won't tell you her deepest secrets, but I'll do what I can to help you connect with her. Once you get her to trust you, you'll have a staunch ally, one who would do anything for you: the hardest part is getting her to trust you." She glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry, but I need to get going. I'll try and find a way to tell you more if I can."
After she left, the Spartans remembered General West saying something similar to one of Nicole Mitchell's comments: 'Once you earn her trust you've got a real ally; the hard part is convincing her to trust you.' Clearly there was more to Laura than she let on, and West knew it. John motioned to his fellow Spartans.
"Keep your ears open. There's something ONI doesn't want us knowing."
"Then why even bother?" Fred asked. "If ONI doesn't want us to know something, why poke into what's not our business?"
"Because she's a Spartan." Surprisingly, the voice came from Linda. "She's one of us, and she's in a war zone of ONI's making. Did you even listen to what Nicole Mitchell told us? Or are you still pissed because she was too scared to admit she needed our help?"
"Enough," John muttered angrily. "Arguing isn't going to do any good. Just stay alert. We don't know what ONI's plans are, but if today was any indication, it's not going to be good." Just as he finished saying this, Cortana tapped into his neural net.
"Chief, we may have a problem. I've gotten into Blade's CSV, and there's something here I think you should see."
Laura stood in the shower, letting the hot water pelt her face as she seethed inwardly. The nerve of those Spartans to assume she needed their assistance! Well, you did, she reminded herself. Still, it rankled no end to think that they'd seen her helpless, or as close to helpless as she ever got. Angrily, she turned off the water and grabbed a towel, drying herself off vigorously as if she were taking her anger out on a few droplets of moisture. Poking her head out, and seeing no one else in the locker room, she slipped out and pulled on a clean set of clothes before heading back to her bunk. It was still too early in the morning for her to hole up, but she really didn't feel like facing off with anyone else today.
"Cortana, you're kidding, right?" John asked quietly as he and his friends stared at the screen.
"I only wish I was. Ackerson and his pawns have all but signed her death warrant. If she's not careful, one of these days someone will succeed in killing her."
"That explains the paranoia," Will mused quietly.
"It explains a lot of things, but I don't think she'll go down quite that easily," John replied. There's got to be a way to help her, he thought; after all, she was a Spartan and he never left a fellow Spartan in danger if he could avoid it. There's always a way.