Chapter Ten

0500 Hours, September 19

2547 (Military Calendar) /

Outskirts of Abaskun

Onboard Bravo Base 070

Axton clicked the last clasp of his armor into place, and stretched up to his full height, although he was careful not to lay too strenuous tension on the gel-fused wounds in his leg and shoulder. The base medical team, rudimentary as it was, had clumsily closed the two wounds with a dissolvable bio-medic sealing agent. Theoretically. The Spartan did not trust the people on this bleak little planet. Even as they had attempted to flash clone his ruined mid-section, he had refused and preferred they manually corrected his crooked bones.

"Must you do that?" the AI asked. Axton immediately halted scraping his combat knife against his left shoulder, sharpening it.

"Your suit is functioning properly." Saratoga said, a quirk in his voice.

"I know."

"Then why are you so moody?" he pestered. Axton sighed, and debated whether or not he should pull Saratoga from the slot on the back of his helmet. He felt the AI sigh, letting the matter go. Axton decided to answer anyways.

"I don't understand why the covenant left, simply glassing the rebels and then leaving? It makes no sense." The Spartan huffed, clearly exasperated.

"Not just the rebels, they also glassed the small colony next to it, Aloide, I believe it was called." A little map slipped onto Axton's visor, showing the colony before the covenant attacked it.

Axton removed the little image from his visor, just as a tentative knock came from his infirmary door. The handle twisted, and a young marine nervously stood as the door swung open. He saluted, his eyes glued to the grey-tiled floor. "General Walkers requests you to the control room sir." He fidgeted with his uniform until the Spartan dismissed him, and he went scurrying off down the hallway.

"I would suggest going to the armory first. If the covenant returns we may not have time to do anything but shoot." Saratoga stated, no question in his mind that the covenant would revisit Arcadia.

"What do you mean we?" the AI remained silent.

Axton resolved himself to knowing eventually he would find out one way or another, although waiting patiently was not his forte. Patience was never a Spartan's strong suit.

"Spartan C026 please report to the control room immediately." An impatient male voice jabbered from the speakers above him.

"Remind me to delete him once you plug me into base." Saratoga whispered, referring to the dumb AI, Mark.

Axton rolled his shoulder once, the sourness still registering, although not as painfully as before. He slid the last gauntlet into place, sealing the metal clasps on the sides and interlocking it with the armor on his forearm. Flexing his hand, he strolled out the infirmary door and down the dreary hallway. Any personnel passing by quickly flattened themselves to the wall and respectfully kept their eyes to the floor.

As the Spartan passed what Saratoga said to be the data core room, he could see scorch marks and smoking debris inside, along with a meter-wide hole in the ceiling. Marines were frantically scurrying to douse fires and reassemble what Axton guessed to be the core.

Two soldiers were carrying another man between them, a gunshot wound in his leg and what appeared to be a bruise the shape of a pistol butt on his temple. Axton saw three more leaned against the side of a wall, bruised and bloodied. At first, Axton had thought the base had been attacked by covenant ground forces, although he knew they could have never defended the base from an invading army.

"Armory's on the left up ahead." Axton pushed through the doors only to find the armory completely void of all weapons, equipment, and base personnel. Great. No team and no gun. Just like old times. The Spartan snorted and turned on his heel to leave. This truly was a pathetic little planet.

As he climbed up the stairs to the second floor, he passed the cargo bay, noticing the smoking pelican and bullet holes riddling the remaining vehicles. He could see blood splattered on the opposite side, trailing towards the bay doors. What the hell had happened here? Axton turned his eyes away, and marched the rest of the distance to the control room.

General Walkers was awaiting his arrival, directing his crew to different areas of the base for repairs. He turned to gaze at the Spartan. Axton had hazel eyes with short dark hair, and a surprisingly young face for a deadly warrior. He was smaller than his counterparts, but still towered above the average man, muscular and lean. Walkers wondered how young the capable man before him truly was. The rest of the crew stared for a moment, then when back to quietly tapping at their keyboards.

"Spartan Axton, it is an honor. I assume you know of the covenant attack and are equally perplexed about the current situation. Tell me, what is a Spartan doing on a planet like this?" Walkers asked, authority gripping his voice.

"General Walkers, I was assigned to killing the shipmasters and the fleetmaster of the Covenant armada that was stationed above Arcadia. Clearly, it did not go as planned. I only managed to kill one before the Covenant eliminated the UNSC fleet. After that, I had a rough landing on your doorstep." Axton replied, completely apathetic, as if he hadn't just fallen from the sky like a meteor.

"We have had similar luck. As far as we are informed, the covenant glassed the Insurrectionist base and the colony next to it. They then left orbit altogether, save for a lone corvette hovering in low atmosphere. We haven't the slightest clue why one has remained after withdrawing all other forces. We were hoping you might be able to shed some much needed light."

Axton shook his head, "My AI and I only know of the assignment we were given." He stated.

"What happened to the base? Surely there was not a Covenant attack here." Saratoga snipped from the speakers on Axton's helmet.

Ren Jensen's brown eyes flickered up to meet Axton's. "You're correct, it wasn't the Covenant. Two days ago, an Insurrectionist got in the base and blew up all our shit. The Innie's have been selling classified information to the Covenant for the past seven months, and I think the deal went sour and that's why they were glassed." She announced, hoping she didn't sound like a complete idiot.

Another analyst spoke up from across the room, "That would explain why the corvette is still in orbit. If the Innie didn't bite it, they may be staying to retrieve her-or more, the file."

The room fell silent. Everyone seemed to understand simultaneously except Axton and Saratoga.

"What file?" The AI inquired curiously. For all his quirks, Saratoga had an insatiable thirst for knowledge. Mark's suited figure and elephant ears appeared on the dash before them.

"We don't know; it was heavily encrypted. Looks like something was hidden on this backwater planet so no one would ever find it."

"Why wasn't the entire data core encrypted?" Saratoga snapped.

"It was. We think the rebel has an NACC chip." Axton had only heard of this sort of chip a couple times in his life, and only when it was supposedly discontinued.

"Didn't the Insurrectionist give up on that after all the fatalities?"

Mark's silhouette nodded. "That's just it-they traded with the covenant for the needed tech. Who knows how many freaks are running around out there now."

General Walkers rubbed his temples. Of course they weren't lucky enough for that Innie to have died. Whatever was on that file, what was left of the UNSC on this planet had to make sure the Covenant never got their greedy paws on it. But how am I going to do that? All we have is a couple marines and-and a Spartan. They have a Spartan now. With him, they might be able to get to that kid before the Covenant does. There was still hope.

Walkers began tapping the pen to his cheek, deep in thought. If they wanted to secure the file and protect the planet from the last Covenant vessel, they were going to need this Spartan.