Chapter 13: Full Disclosure Not Required
Jiles Station
Nietzsche's crew spent the next two days holed up in the ship, trying to find ways to pass the time. Kyle and Kay were popping open access panels and tuning up parts of the ship so that it would perform more to their liking. Melissa and Williams wandered the halls, with Melissa practicing her pyrokinesis and Williams in tow making sure she didn't get in trouble. Laron was off doing whatever fiendish rogues like him did in their spare time. Sanah was in sleep mode, conserving her battery power. Her consciousness was linked into the ship's systems, where she often had to mediate between the bickering Halsey and Hal.
Meanwhile, Lynn and John were in the docking bay sparring. It was a bit of a trade off, with Lynn showing John the finer arts of sword fighting while John gave her some pointers in Marine martial arts. To John, it felt like an eternity since he was first taught the moves he was performing. Yet, he could still clearly picture Chief Mendez's face as the drill instructor drove his face into the dirt, and then chewed him out for his flawed performance.
"Not good enough!" Mendez growled as he waited for John to slowly get to his feet. "Get up and try it again."
As the training continued, Mendez continued to pick apart John's attempts to get through his defenses, all while listing off things he did wrong and how to fix them.
"Too much power! Control your blows, recruit, or you're nothing but a bag of flailing meat! Spread those legs, your posture lets me push you over like a toothpick!"
Like the Chief before him, John made sure to point out Lynn's flaws and how to correct them, but not to the harsh extent the Chief and his fellow trainers took the training to. At first, Lynn was excellent at swords and melee weapons, but was oddly poor at hand to hand combat, at least by John's standards. He thought he would have to train her from the ground up, but he found Lynn to be a lightning fast learner. What took him and his fellow Spartans weeks of grueling and painful trial and error to learn, Lynn had already mastered in the space of days. Quite literally, all John had to do was show her the technique and she could copy it.
"I think that's enough for now." John said, sitting on a small cargo crate and wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Good idea." Lynn agreed, sitting next to John.
"So, I've always been wondering," John glanced at Lynn curiously, "how did you end up with a group like this? It's not exactly what I would call a well organized military unit."
"That's because it's not." Lynn laughed. "Kyle, Kay, and Sanah are basically childhood friends of mine, and pretty much the only ones due to my… unique nature. Melissa and Williams, well, we picked them both up shortly before we thawed you from that cryo-tube."
"What makes you think we can trust them?"
"You're asking the person who can read minds." Lynn smiled and pointed to her head. "However, if you want to know their full story, well, I suggest you ask them directly. It's not in my nature to give away people's secrets on a whim."
"I might do that." John said, standing up and making his way to the exit. "I'll see you in a bit."
"What about training?" Lynn asked.
"I think that's enough for today."
"Whatever." Lynn closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It had been a while since she had last worked on her telepathy, and decided now would be a good time to practice.
"Hal, or Dr. Halsey, or whoever's in charge at the moment, can you give me the location for Melissa and Williams?" John said as he exited the bay.
"Ummm, I'm sorry, but both Hal and Dr. Halsey are… busy at the moment." Sanah's voice said, slightly abashed. "But I think I can help."
"Just tell me where Melissa and Williams are."
"Uhhhh, just a second." Sanah's voice paused for a second and then quickly returned. "They're in the ship's mess hall."
"Thanks. And tell Dr. Halsey to play nice."
"That's what I've been saying for the past two days." Sanah replied, exasperated.
Mess Hall
"Huh, so you're saying that you don't trust us?" Melissa raised an eyebrow as she looked at John, who was now donning his imposing MJOLNIR armor.
"Let's just say that I want to know that I can count on the people I'm fighting with to watch my back." John replied simply and diplomatically. "I'd like to think that I would be able to return the favor."
"I shouldn't be obligated to tell you my life story." Melissa growled.
"Come on, Melissa, it's not like it can hurt." Williams said.
"Fine, you do it then." Melissa said as she skulked out of the mess hall.
"What was that all about?" John asked after the pyrokinetic left the room.
"That's how she always is." Williams shrugged. "Can't blame her, though, given all that she's gone through."
"Care to share the story?"
"Well, there's not much to tell." Williams sighed. "Me and Melissa came from Fleet Apollo. When they first found out that Melissa had… powers, they were both excited and scared out of their minds. She basically lived her whole life alone."
"What about you?" John asked.
"Me? Well, I was some dumb kid who's dad left to become a scav. It's a pretty big taboo, to just pack up and abandon your fleet like that, especially if your dad was a ship captain and took his ship and crew with him when he left The rest of the fleet knew I had nothing to do with it, but that didn't really stop some of them, especially the younger ones from venting their frustrations onto me."
"I see."
"Anyways," Williams continued, "we both kinda gravitated towards each other on the pure fact that we were both outcasts. She at least tolerated me, since I wasn't throwing rocks or calling her names, but she was really independent. She really hated it whenever I tried to step in for her or help her out on something."
"I can sort of see that right now."
"Yeah," Williams nodded his head. "It's hard for her to accept help, since she basically grew up in an environment that taught her not to expect any."
"Is that what made you leave?" John asked.
"Oh no." Williams shook his head. "We pretty much had to get out before the Fleet put death marks on our heads."
John raised an eyebrow in curiosity. It wasn't often a pair of kids could pull something off that would result in capital punishment on sight. "Do I want to know?"
"Probably." Williams sighed, as if remembering something he would of rather forgotten. "We had a third member in our party, a puppy. Pets were really rare in the fleet, but they thought they would make an exception for their little weapon-in-training. Anyways, this one day, a bunch of the local bullies decided to stir up some trouble. Melissa's really good at hiding what she's feeling, so the sadistic bastards thought it would be a hoot to see what she looked like when she was crying."
"I can see where this is going." John said grimly. "Did it really go that far?"
"They kicked the poor thing to death!" Williams said angrily. "But their little plan backfired, and Melissa literally when ballistic. When it was all over, they basically had to treat three kids for sixth degree burns. I can't even imagine what you'd have to do get those! As for the other four, well, let's just say it took a good long while to scrape what was left of them off the walls."
"So she basically murdered four kids?" Johns said with revulsion. Even though he was trained to kill, and didn't mind it, he did abhor unnecessary violence.
"Well, think about it. You can create fire, you don't have full control over that power, you are emotionally unstable, and you see a bunch of jerks kill one of your few friends in front of you. How exactly do expect to act any differently?"
"Point."
"So yeah, it wouldn't have taken long for anybody to figure out what had happened. So me and Melissa hightailed it out of there."
"All by yourself?"
"Well, I guess I do take after my dad after all." Williams shrugged. "We stole a Slipspace-capable fighter and one thing led to another, and now we've ended up with you guys."
"I see." John nodded. He found that he couldn't relate to what Williams or Melissa had experienced. During the selection process for SPARTANs, Dr. Halsey and her staff made very sure to recruit emotionally stable subjects and screened out any with potential disorders or issues. As a result, he had grown up with a group of very psychologically tough companions. However, with his past experiences of seeing normal Marines cracking under the pressure of war, John had some idea of what forced Williams and Melissa to do what they did. Fortunately, it appeared that the two rogues had learned from their mistakes rather than write them off. He felt that if push came to shove, he could depend on Williams and Melissa.
"So, is that it, or do you want to hear more about our tragic little lives?" Williams asked, with a bit of weak humor in his tone.
"No, that's all."
Engine Room
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kyle narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the new additions to the engine. "I mean, do we really need a set of solid rocket fuel pods?"
"Oh yeah, it's a great thing in case we need to pick up some serious speed in a hurry." Kay grinned, applying one last spot weld.
"Or if we want to turn this part of the ship into a gigantic bomb." Kyle sighed. "Are you even aware why we don't use rocket fuel as a main source of propellant anymore?"
"I have to agree with Kyle." Hal chimed. "I don't like the idea of explosives being stored in my engine compartment."
"But you have to admit, we may have a use for that system sometime in the future. " Halsey said in her usual soothing tone.
"Awwww, shit." Kyle hit the audio override button, shutting off the intercoms in the engine compartment so that Hal and Halsey's verbal war wouldn't carry over into his and Kay's ears.
"See? The doctor agrees with me." Kay smiled.
"That's just wrong." Kyle shook his head.
Suddenly, the two were interrupted when Lynn suddenly sprinted into the room, out of breath with a distressed look on her face.
"What's wrong?" Kyle asked.
"More trouble." Lynn gasped.
Jiles Station
"Sir, we've successfully docked with the station." Captain Aheb dutifully announced.
"I'm aware." Ackerson grunted. "Gather up the men, tell them we're going in quiet."
In Ackerson's line of work, there were two distinct ways to operate during a mission. Going in "quiet" meant that the assault team would either try to infiltrate the area or blend in, so as not to attract any attention to itself. This tactic was used when stealth was necessary to achieve the objective. On the other hand, the team could choose to go in "loud", which meant going in guns blazing. This was often done when stealth wasn't an option of if the team needed to achieve their objective in a very short amount of time. Ackerson knew that Jiles Station was the last place to start a huge shootout, and that he and his Marines would be shot on sight if they were recognized as any sort of organized authority.
Aheb nodded. "I'll inform the men right away, sir."
Nietzsche
"So let me get this straight." Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Ackerson, though some astronomical miracle only he could conjure up, managed to track us here."
"I think so." Lynn nodded. "He's definitely here."
"How do you know?" Melissa asked skeptically.
"After getting caught by surprise by those Templars, I've been keeping an eye out for new arrivals." Lynn explained. "I thought there was something strange, so I dived into the traffic controller's head. I caught a bit of what he was seeing and I saw Riftseeker."
"And the controller didn't find anything odd?" Kyle gaped.
"Riftseeker is a prowler." Lynn explained. "Its outer coating is a skin of specialized nanites which allow the ship to change its outside appearance on demand. Fortunately, I've memorized all of its variations, so I can recognize the ship regardless of what it looks like."
"Well shit, this isn't good." Kyle shook his head. "Laron, we have to move now. We can't afford to wait any longer."
"That's suicide!" Laron cried. "With current alert level, there's no way we can get through with the current plan! Plus, there's no way we've taken out all of the Templars on this station!"
"Then we change the plan." John said simply, as if it were the simplest and most obvious solution in the world.
"And what do you suppose we do, Mr. Caveman?" Laron said snidely.
"According to you, we have at least three hostile parties on this station, right?" John asked.
"Yeah." Laron nodded.
"Then we've got a plan." John stood up. "One of my old trainers use to have this saying, 'let the enemy do the work'. If we play Ackerson, Jiles, and the Templars off against each other…"
"…we can use the resulting chaos to force ourselves in!" Kyle finished.
"That's right." John nodded. "The problem is to manipulate everything to work in our favor."
"That's why you've got me!" Lynn grinned. "I just need a bit of time to find a Templar or two."
"Right, do it." Kyle said.
Docking Bay
Lynn didn't necessarily have to be in the docking bay to do this, but she did find that being in a large, open space helped her concentrate better. There was something about cramped, tight spaces that just made her feel uncomfortable when she was going into full telepath mode. Her mind wandered the crowded halls of the station, flitting about to try and find what she was looking for. There was a drug addicted girl, digging through the trash for used injectors, a desperate, hungry man contemplating knifing the next passerby for some extra cash. Further in, she found a scav hurrying to try and make his next rendezvous, unaware that he was going to be struck down by a heart attack in about two minutes. Then, like an uncomfortably bright and hot fire, Lynn found what she was looking for. Like a spotlight in a dark room, the Templar's self-righteous indignation and fanatic belief burned brightly among the rather dull and less active minds around him. Fortunately for Lynn, while the Templar's resolve and will were bright, his free will and strength of character were pretty dim. It was laughably simple to circumvent his mental defenses and twist things around so that anything Lynn suggested would seem perfectly okay to the Templar.
Manipulating the Templar, Balian, like a puppet, Lynn had him move around in an attempt to find Ackerson. While the man didn't often participate in missions, Lynn knew for a fact that he liked to get personally involved in missions concerning her. It wasn't long before she finally caught sight of Ackerson in the crowd. Of course, he was wearing a disguise in the form of what looked like secondhand armor. Spread out behind him and trailing him slowly were about a dozen similarly disguised Marines. They were spread out so as not to draw attention, but still stayed close to each other to provide support if necessary.
"Oh Ackerson, why do you have to be so predictable?" Lynn sighed as she instructed Balian to arm his rail rifle. "It just makes things way too easy."
Through Balian's eyes, Lynn could see the sights of his rail rifle center around Ackeron's head. Bemused, Lynn briefly considered having Balian just putting a rail round into his skull. However, she quickly banished the thought from her mind, tempting as it was. Like the Marines with him, Ackerson was merely doing his job, even though he seemed to take a rather unsettling enthusiasm for his duties. She had Balian nudge his rifle a few inches upwards so that it was pointing just over Ackerson's head. Just because she wouldn't kill him didn't mean she couldn't at least give Ackerson a nasty surprise.
Jiles Station
"Any contact?" Ackerson whispered into his miniature radio.
There were a series of negatives from the squad. Ackerson fumed. It would take days, maybe even weeks to comb the whole station. The fact that the station was crowded with the dregs of society didn't really help much.
"Watch out, sir!" One of the Marines behind him yelled.
Just as the words reached Ackerson's ears, he felt something brush against the top of his head. Ackerson instinctively ducked and felt the top of his helmet. The deep groove running along the top was more than enough to tell him that he had a rail round had grazed his helmet.
"Where was the source of that?" Ackerson yelled angrily.
"A Templar, sir!" Another Marine yelled. "Three o' clock!"
Ackerson gave a quick glance, and did indeed see a Templar waving a rail rifle around. Two more Templars emerged from their hiding places, and the first one began frantically pointing in his direction.
"Permission to return fire?"
"Permission granted!" Ackerson seethed. He didn't like being shot at, and the fact that the Templars were attacking him meant that his cover was most likely blown.
A dozen rail rifles shrieked, drilling into the trio of Templars with brutal precision and efficiency. Two of them instantly fell, but one managed to successfully take cover, which wasn't a good thing, since that would give him the chance to call for backup. Meanwhile, the rest of the surrounding crowd broke out into a mad and wild brawl… yet again.
"This is certainly troublesome." Ackerson breathed. He was in no mood to waste any more time, so he keyed his radio. "Captain Aheb."
"Yes, sir?"
"Change in plans. Get the reserves prepped and deployed. We're going in loud." Ackerson said grimly.
"But sir, what about collateral damage?" Aheb asked worriedly.
"They're nothing but a bunch of thieves and criminals." Ackerson responded harshly over the sound of gunfire. "Just get those reinforcements down here!"
Docking Bay
Lynn winced as the flying rail rounds came close to striking Balian. With a little coaxing, she managed to override the Templar's rather odd but unsurprising instinct to stand his ground and fight. She then convinced Balian that now would be a good idea to start calling for some backup. No doubt Ackerson was already on the radio screaming for reinforcements. The situation was going to quickly dissolve, which was Lynn was banking on. If things got chaotic enough, then Jiles would have no choice but to intervene and commit some of his forces.
Suddenly, Lynn felt a jolt of stabbing hot pain in her head which forced her to break off her mental connection with Balian. She realized that the poor boy probably met his untimely end at the hands of Ackerson's Marines. Those men were some of the best the Fleet had to offer, after all.
Governor Jiles' Office
"Governor, we have a problem."
"What is it, Warren?" Jiles sighed.
"We've got another firefight." Captain Warren was Governor Jiles' head of security. He was the closest thing to law enforcement on this station, which usually equated to a rail round in the head to any disobedient patron or visitor. "It's worse than before."
"What, again?" Jiles sighed.
"Sir, there's a good chance the fighting is going to spread. From initial reports, it looks like the Templars are having a firefight with several marines from Fleet Earth."
Jiles paled a little. With the Templar's fanatical resolve, and Fleet Earth's technological and military superiority, neither faction was a welcome sight on his station. Now, both sides were having a miniature war. This certainly didn't mean good things for Jiles, as such fighting could drive away his clientele, or even worse, the violence could spill over into his little comfort zone. Something had to be done and done quickly.
"Warren, gather up some men and try to head off the troublemakers." Jiles ordered. "We can't have the fighting spread further."
"Roger that, Governor."
With that, Jiles leaned back in his chair and sighed, pouring himself some scotch to ease his anxiety. Today certainly wasn't a good day to be the governor.