Hey all! Sorry about this short (and slightly pointless) chapter--been busy lately. Just figured I'd try to get a brief happy shot in somewhere, so this'll be it. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo.

Chapter Eight: Cairo and Blades

Sol System

Cairo Orbital Defense Platform

April 7, 2558

Laura felt the ship drop out of Slipspace, and looked out the window of her cabin to confirm the fact. The stars were definitely familiar: there was the Big Dipper, the Dragon, Orion, Cephas the King. We're home, she thought as she exited her cabin. While she technically hadn't been permitted to wander around yet, she felt she should be on the bridge just in case.

Navigating the corridors was fairly easy, and she was surprised when no one stopped her or asked her where she was going. Having made it to the bridge unopposed, she stepped in the room quietly, ready to step in when needed.

--

"We've reached Earth, and we're being hailed," Fred called. John took that as his cue, moving forward so that he was in front of the viewscreen. A channel was opened and Admiral Hood's face appeared.

"Master Chief, I take it your mission went well?" he asked, the trace of a smile on his face.

"Mission accomplished, sir. No casualties, and we've found a bit more than we expected to."

"I can see that. May I ask who your friends are?" Before John could reply, a familiar voice rang out behind him.

"We've made contact with the missing Spartans and the remnants of the original Forerunner Empire, sir." Laura moved up and stood beside him, saluting as she came up. "Dr. Halsey is also present and accounted for."

"Excellent," Hood nodded. "You're cleared to dock with the Cairo, for debriefing." A small smile played across the admiral's face. "I think there's also someone on board who wants a word with you, Spartan."

--

Laura stepped into the docking bay, looking carefully at her surroundings—it wouldn't do to get caught in an ambush. Old habits die hard, she thought.

"Nervous?" John asked her from behind, and she turned to look at the Spartans and Forerunners behind her.

"No more than usual, Chief. Wouldn't do to get caught with your pants down, ya know?" she smiled, but John could tell it wasn't quite genuine.

"Still paranoid as always, eh?" a loud, slightly sarcastic voice called, interrupting everyone's musings. A real smile spread across her face as she turned again, facing the approaching figure in a UNSC naval uniform.

"I think it might be justified, Toothpick," she shot back, moving forward and grabbing his hand in a firm grip. Toothpick, indeed, Mendez thought. How did anything like that make it into the military? He looks half-starved.

"Be nice, Laura, since I am your superior officer," the skinny figure replied. True enough, he did have a captain's rank insignia on his uniform.

"Since when have I paid attention to rank, hmmm? Besides, even though you're a Captain, you're still my little brother." 'Little' was an overstatement, since the man stood over six feet tall—but then again, Laura herself was near seven feet. "When did you get here? Last I heard, you and the Apache were patrolling near Sigma Octanus, or what's left of it."

"I'm not at liberty to say, though I daresay you'll be hearing about it soon enough." A worried look crossed his face, but he replaced it with a smile. "At any rate, it's good to see you again."

"Things are that bad?" Laura asked softly. A look at the other man's face was all the proof she needed.

"You know I'm not supposed to tell you Laura. Now why not introduce me to your friends, or have you been gone so long you've forgotten your manners?"

"When did I ever have manners?" she replied before turning back to the confused group behind her. "My younger brother, Captain Matt Morisson."

"I've heard of your strategic brilliance, Captain," Dr. Halsey stepped forward, taking Matt's extended hand.

"I'm not the only one, but thank you. Dr. Halsey, I've heard a lot about your work, and I must say I'm honored. Not everyday one gets to meet the brains behind my sister." He grinned as Laura started trying to protest, and whispered, "It's fun annoying her sometimes."

"I heard that!" Laura finally managed to spit out, shooting a glare that could easily have killed.

"No kidding you heard that." Matt grinned and started motioning to the elevators. "They're expecting you on the command deck for debriefing. I daresay you'll find me later?"

"Count on it, Stick," she smiled and pulled him into a one-armed hug. "We've got some catching up to do later."

--

Debriefing after a mission was about as much fun as pulling off an adhesive bandage, in Laura's mind at least. Painful, but necessary, she thought, heading for one of the unused docking bays. Whenever she was on the Cairo she checked up on which bays weren't being used and grabbed one for her workouts. The more space and isolation I have, the better. Even she would readily admit that her more…vigorous workouts had a tendency to get out of hand.

Once she had found an empty bay to her liking, she started with some stretches and slow moves: her contention was that it took more skill to perform accurate martial arts slowly than quickly, plus it made for a good warm-up. Slow kicks, punctuated by leisurely spins and arm thrusts, then a series of postures to finish it up. Gradually she moved faster until she'd reached full combat speed; she became the figurative whirlwind of death. Laura lost track of time, so absorbed in the speed and grace of martial arts, to the point that she almost didn't register the sound of applause.

"Not bad, I'd have thought having kids would've taken off your edge." Matt Morisson entered the bay, a smile on his face.

"Those two are worse than yours, Matt," she smiled. "I need my edge to keep up with them running around." Noticing the wrapped box under his arm, she sent him a pointed look. "What's that, explosives?"

"Not quite, but close," he grinned. Handing the box to her, he smiled even more. "Happy Belated Birthday."

"What's in here, rocks?" she grunted, hefting the package; for something as thin as it looked, it had some surprising heft to it. Deciding not to wait for an answer, Laura untied the strings and ripped off the paper to reveal a shiny, lacquered wooden box. Finding and opening the clasp, her eyes widened.

"Where did you find these?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"They're custom made; I was able to find a traditional swordsmith in Kyoto. We all kinda pitched in, but it seems it was worth every penny."

Reverently Laura lifted the twin blades, each one about 2 feet long and sheathed in black lacquered wood. Setting one down carefully, she drew one from its scabbard and gazed, awestruck, at the characters engraved on the blue-steel blade. Surprisingly, the heft was lighter than expected, and the blade was perfectly balanced to her hand.

"Go ahead, try them out," Matt urged. "You know you want to."

Damn right I want to, Laura thought, reaching for the other blade. The sheaths were designed to cross behind the back, in the traditional samurai manner; strapping both to her back, she closed her eyes and waited, searching her memory for the right pattern, the right rhythms. It wasn't long before she spun into motion, her body moving into a complex pattern of kicks, spins, and slashing motions. She blocked with one arm and slashed at the same time, flipped, and cut the air, her movements fluid and catlike. When she finally came to a close, her whole face had lit up—it happened sometimes when she really got into a work-out. It also helped that she had a new set of blades to work with, especially since these were rare chisa katana blades her family had gifted to her. Why they insist on spoiling me like this, I'll never know.

"You spoil me," she smiled, the faint glimmer of tears shining in her dark eyes.

"It's about time someone did," Matt replied, his voice hardening at the obvious reminder that ONI still tried to short her when they could. "Besides, you deserve it."

"Goofball." Sheathing the elegant weapons, she packed them away and handed them back to her younger brother. "You better hold on to these until I get back home—ONI doesn't like to allow me near anything longer than an MA5B, and even then they get edgy."

"Will do—see you back home."