Chapter 9
"You're sure about this, Nat?" Amare Mbanefo asked nervously. "I don't think she's even noticed me..."
Linda smiled in a way calculated to offer maximum reassurance without seeming patronizing. "Of course I'm sure. Trust me, ask her out and she'll say yes."
At this point Cortez returned to her desk from her trip to Riley's office. Judging by the expression on her face, it had gone as poorly as such meetings ever had. However, Linda noticed her suppress a smile when she caught sight of Mbanefo before she turned to her desk. Linda's belief in the power this potential romance would have over Cortez was once again supported. If she pulled this off, her coworker would become a valuable asset.
Mbanefo glanced to her for encouragement. She smiled and nodded in response, and the curiously shy man steeled his courage and made his way over to Cortez's desk. An hour later at closing time the two were leaving together, off to enjoy a shared meal.
Linda smiled internally. At least something was going as planned.
The clandestine Spartan II packed up her compad and personal supplies and headed back to her apartment. Once she was safely inside, she permitted herself to reflect on the previous evenings events.
How could Dr. Halsey be so blind? Of course the Master Chief knew who he was dealing with! He had seen more combat than any of them, and had the intelligence and cunning of the ultimate soldier. He was better than any of them, and if anyone understood the enemies of mankind it was him.
The real problem was Miller. Unfortunately, they had not had the opportunity to come to an agreed upon course of action given the Chief's story and subsequent departure. The Innie needed to be removed as quickly and effectively as possible. Perhaps physical intervention was warranted here. Unlike Riley, Miller was guilty of treason—the courts may have pardoned him, but everyone knew men like him never changed. Dr. Halsey, wise as she was, would never agree to it. Perhaps she should do it in secret?
No. Linda was not willing to go that far in keeping secrets from her family. This was where she drew the line. She groaned internally at how frustrating this situation was becoming; what she wouldn't give to be able to solve her problems with her rifle, Nornfang, like she normally did.
Linda shook off those thoughts and refocused on the Master Chief. This wasn't about her.
Was there anything she should do? Some form of comfort she should offer? She had no doubt that her leader could get through this on his own. He was more than strong enough. But she was his sister as well as his subordinate. She should offer some sort of support, right? Isn't that what people were supposed to do?
Linda recalled the brief discussion the other members of Blue Team had had after the Chief stormed out of the clinic the night before.
"What do we do?" Linda had asked, unable to conceal the fact that she felt lost in the face of what had just happened.
"Keep supporting him," Dr. Halsey had replied, after taking a moment to compose herself. "John kept this from us because he was afraid of appearing weak. He was afraid we would lose respect for him. If we try anything foolish like staging an intervention it will just reaffirm his fear that we don't trust him anymore. He's still in control."
Halsey had stopped talking after that, retreating into the lab and locking the door behind her. She had to know that the door would not keep them out if the Spartans wanted to follow her. Linda supposed it was a force of habit.
How could he think we wouldn't trust him? Linda asked herself. He was their leader! He had been since they were cadets! They'd follow him to the gates of Hell if he asked them to.
Linda shook her head. Why did human psychology have to be so irrational?
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"Here you go, all fixed up," Kelly said as she finished applying the bandage to the child's arm. It had been a simple cut gained when the little girl had fallen down while playing. On any other world it would hardly have warranted a trip to a clinic, but there was always the chance of silicate contamination and the parents of Meridian tended to be the protective sort. They needed to be, in such a hostile environment.
"Thank you so much," the little girl's mother said. She looked down at her daughter, prompting, "What do you say, Aiko?"
"...thank you..." the child said in a timid, quiet voice. Kelly's enormous height and physical strength had intimidated the girl from the start. Kelly smiled down at her and told her that she was very welcome. She wished them both a good day as the mother had little Aiko don her child-sized gas mask before leaving the clinic. Said masks had to be specially made to fit the smaller heads of children in order to offer maximum protection while outdoors. They were quite expensive, generally equivalent to over a month's salary for the average worker. Even with the expense, there was not a child on Meridian that lacked one. Kelly sighed, reflecting on the financial desperation that would drive loving parent to bring their children to worlds like Meridian as she closed down her compad and went to the clinic's office to eat.
Kelly had been losing herself in her work. It was rather hard not to, really. The only reason she was not slaving away at that moment was because she knew that her body, augmented or not, still required occasional breaks to maintain peak performance. She would have to spare a quick lunch.
Unfortunately, the break meant she had nothing to distract her from thinking about the previous evening. Why had the Master Chief kept that from them? Dr. Halsey had suggested that he was worried they would lose respect for him. That they would think he was weak. Kelly could hardly believe it, but it seemed the most likely answer. How could he be so foolish? After all they'd been through, after all the Master Chief had accomplished, none of them could ever doubt him. She would have to find a way to support him without being too overt about it.
And then there was the subject of Miller. While Kelly wasn't completely in agreement with Dr. Halsey, she had to admit that an unconventional approach would be necessary. Perhaps some level of peaceful coexistence would be possible. After all, Blue Team had worked with rebels to survive following the fall of Reach. That had been for mutual survival in the face of Covenant attack, but they didn't need necessarily need cooperation here; simple apathy would do.
Kelly shook her head before downing her third cup of coffee and heading back to work. Break time was over. She had been careful to only drink one cup while in the presence of Dr. Halsey. The good doctor would only worry unnecessarily.
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This should do, Fred thought, examining the training sword he had found in the security station equipment room. He had overheard a conversation amongst his fellow officers in which one of them mentioned that Sgt. Singh was an experienced fencer and had arranged to have some of his supplies stored in the station. Fred picked up one of the swords, testing its weight. While his energy blade did not have a physical "blade," appearing to be merely a hilt when deactivated, the energy field that kept the plasma projected by the device contained provided enough air resistance and physical weight that the practice sword should suffice for now. He could hardly bring his energy blade to the station, after all.
It was fortunate that his normal weapon did have its resistance and weight, considering that without them it would be effectively impossible to use—the blade would move so fast that one's reflexes would be unable to keep up with it, resulting in inevitable injury to the wielder.
"Didn't know you were interested in swordsmanship," Sgt. Singh said from the doorway.
"Yes, sir," Fred responded. "I hope you don't mind, sir, I assumed they were intended for anyone to use them."
Singh chuckled. "Relax, Barton, you were right. Just never expected anyone to actually take an interest. You been fencing long?"
"Yes, sir. Several years. Although I was an experienced melee combatant in the Marine Corps," Fred explained.
Sgt. Singh gave Fred a speculative look. "I bet you were," he said. "Interested in sparring a bit?"
"Absolutely, sir," Fred replied immediately. This could be a valuable bonding exercise that would ingratiate himself further with his superior. While he wasn't as skilled at espionage as Linda, he recognized the value of having his superior on his side. Besides, it would distract him from the Master Chief's story from the previous night. He didn't think the Chief was keeping any more secrets from them, but the doubt was lingering.
The two security officers moved into the exercise room. It was compact and modular, like everything else on Meridian, with little more than a mat on the floor and a few exercise machines packed up on one side.
They began slowly, each feeling out the other's style and defenses. Fred, naturally, held back. Even if he didn't intend to let his Sgt. win, his augmented speed and reflexes would be obvious if he went full tilt. Even so, Singh was proving to be an able combatant, deftly dodging and parrying Fred's probing strikes. Fred wondered just how long he had been a practicing fencer-
Singh struck Fred, winning the round.
Wait, what? Fred thought.
Singh had actually landed a blow when Fred hadn't expected it. The older man had suddenly moved with a speed the Spartan would never have expected from an un-augmented human.
Sgt. Singh had an uncharacteristic smirk on his face. "Once more?" he asked cockily.
Fred steeled his facial expression and nodded. "Lucky shot, old man," he said, his shock momentarily making him forget protocol. Singh laughed, pointing out that Fred wasn't that much younger than him.
Once more they began, with Fred taking his opponent far more seriously. He tried a different approach this time, applying a mix of various forms he had picked up in his studies. Singh made a good accounting for himself, utilizing his inexplicable speed, but in the end Fred was just too much for him.
Fred landed a blow, winning the second round.
The rest of the spar went about as Fred had planned it. He let his Sgt. win a few times, but mostly came out on top. They made their way out of the exercise area and towards the station showers.
"You're good," Singh praised, sweating profusely but with a wide grin on his face. "I haven't had as good a spar in years!"
"Neither have I," Fred lied. While Kelly had never been interested in swordplay, her speed made her devastating with a knife. It had taken Fred years to gain enough skill to surpass her in melee combat. "How did you get so fast?"
Singh chuckled, a look of personal pride on his face. "Experience," he answered. "I've been fencing since I was 10 and mostly stuck to one style my whole life. That fancy maneuvering you do makes you hard to predict, but the fact that I've stuck to one style helped me become more familiar with it than if I had taken the mixed approach you have. So many years have given me a subconscious and muscle memory that decreases my action and reaction time to a level far beyond any young man. I'm moving while the other guy is still thinking about moving."
Fred nodded, understanding. Experience could and often did outweigh physical inferiority.
"Aw, quit you're braggin', old man," Evelyn Collins said from in front of the desk. The path to the showers ran behind the station desk that civilians stood in front of to talk to the officer on watch. Said officer stood to one side to allow his Sgt. to talk to his friend. "There's no denyin' that you and I are both fossils. No point trying to distract people from that," she said with a smile. Singh laughed. Apparently this was an established joke between the two of them.
"And what can I do for you, Ms. Collins?" Sgt. Singh asked.
"Not a damn thing until you clean yourself up. Then I want to take you and the newbie out for a drink," she said.
"Both of us?" Fred asked, confused.
"Yes, both of you," Collins replied. She grew serious, saying, "This concerns you as well."
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"I'm worried about your buddy Rogers and our mutual colleague, Miller. Things look like they're about to get out of hand," Collins said after they had all met up at the local bar. It was between meal times, so they had the room to themselves.
Singh grimaced. "Yeah, I was getting worried about that. Nothin's happened yet, but virtually everyone in this precinct knows about Miller's beef with Rogers. And the rest of the new arrivals," he said, glancing at Fred.
Fred thought back to the conversation the night before. Perhaps Collins and Singh could provide an avenue of attack that Blue Team had not had access to before. "Is there anything we can do about it?" he asked his superior.
"Other than offer a stern warning? No, not really," Singh replied grimly. "Theoretically we could have him transferred out if trouble persists, but we can't even get authorization for needed supplies out here. Trying to transfer a person who hasn't caused a disruption yet won't work."
"Damnit, Ajit, there's gotta be something you can do!" Collins objected fiercely.
Singh sighed again. "Alright, I'll bring him in. Give 'im that talking to, maybe hold him overnight. Threatening his pay might work—that I do have some sway over."
"I suppose that'll have to do," Collins responded. "I'll keep working on my end. There's gotta be some way to get through to them. I've gotten to know Rogers and his friends. There's no reason we can't all coexist, even help each other. Once we get them over their problems we can make some real progress."
Singh smiled. "Ha-ha. There you go again, gettin' all hopeful. Don't ever change, Evelyn."
"You could stand to be a little more optimistic yourself, Ajit," she retorted, frowning lightly. Fred could tell this was a conversation they had had before. "A little hope wouldn't hurt you."
Singh's face lost its smile. His eyes showed a combination of weariness and mild amusement. "Afraid any hope I had left in this wrinkled old heart died with my homeworld, ma'am," he said in a soft voice. Singh suddenly regained his gentle smile. "That's what I've got you for. You've got enough starry-eyed optimism for the both of us."
Collins snorted at that, grinning sadly herself. The conversation quickly turned to frivolous topics Fred had no knowledge of nor interest in. Hopefully Singh would straighten Miller out. If not, drastic measures might become necessary.
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"C'mon Rogers, I'm not leaving without my good luck charm!" Collins shouted, her voice muffled by her rebreather.
Does she really think I'm that stupid?, the Master Chief thought to himself. He knew Collins was just going to try to convince him to make nice with Miller. She had done so on nearly every occasion they had stuck together in the glasslands, which seemed to be every time they ventured out into it.
They began their walk away from the survey vehicles once the Chief had caught up with her. They were close to the mining site that Fred had visited recently. Linda had hacked into the scheduling system for prospectors and had altered the maps so that the Chief would be able to gather data closer to the positive readings Fred had returned with. It made him nervous; mining was the area that the so-call Governor Sloan had been intended to oversee. The more directly they meddled with it, the greater the chance he would catch on. The last thing they needed was a rampant AI taking notice of them.
The ground they were walking on now was relatively solid. There were no sand dune-like waves of silicates or massive chasms. The ground was a relatively flat plane of dirty black glass, with a few hills here and there. The Chief supposed this was some sort of plains region before the glassing.
It wasn't long before the Master Chief's suspicions concerning Collins' intentions was proven correct.
"So, stop me if you've heard this one," Collins said wryly. "I want you to try talking to Miller."
The Master Chief sighed. He really didn't need this right now. After the discussion the night before, he just wanted to put the whole matter out of his mind for the time being. Not that he was running away from his problems. He would never do that. He was just...tactically retreating. He would regain his bearings and finally deal with Miller within a few days. Enough was enough.
"I don't think that will help," he replied curtly.
Collins sighed. "Look-" She was interrupted by the ground suddenly giving way beneath her, causing her to disappear from the Chief's field of vision.
The Master Chief immediately sprung into action, crossing the dozen meters from Collins' position in just over a second. He peered into the hole, careful not to lose his footing.
"I'm okay," Collins called out. She was sitting at the bottom of the hole, a couple meters from the surface, apparently unharmed. The Chief was not about to take chances, however, and jumped down to give her a more thorough inspection.
"Hey, c'mon, I'm fine!" she objected.
"You just fell into a cavern of sharp silicates. You might very well be far from 'fine'," he responded. "Now hold still and let me check your suit for punctures."
Collins had been lucky. While there were some tears here and there, the thick cloth of her suit had kept her from any serious injury. There were no apparent broken bones and no visible blood.
"Alright, you look fine," the Chief admitted. "You should still stop by the clinic when we get back."
"Aw, I didn't know you cared," Collins teased. She paused a moment before asking, "Hey, how deep does this hole go?"
The Master Chief turned around and noticed that one side of the hole Collins had fallen into opened into a large cavern. He nearly reached for his weapon before remembering it was still located in a mining crate back in Meridian Station. How had he missed that opening earlier?
Collins struggled to her feet. "Let's check it out," she said, turning on her flashlight and moving forward. "There might be some salvage in there."
They had only gone a few meters when Collins abruptly stopped dead in her tracks, transfixed by the sight before her. The Chief couldn't blame her. They had found something he thought Meridian had been stripped of by the Covenant's genocidal assault. They had found life.
There were no people, of course. Nor were there pets, or domesticated animals, or even any kind of advanced life forms. Instead, there was a simple green moss covering the walls and floor, a large pool of stagnant water, and a number of grass hopper-like insects jumping about the floor.
Collins abruptly tore her mask and rebreather off.
"Collins, what are you-"
"Shut up," she interrupted in a quiet voice. "Look at this...just look at this..."
The Master Chief was puzzled. Look at what? From a scientific standpoint it was rather unremarkable. Some rudimentary life forms had managed to survive the glassing inside a cave. It was odd, but hardly unheard of. From an aesthetic standpoint, this was hardly the sort of thing most people would consider appealing. And yet, Collins was looking at the scene with an almost religious awe. She bent down, placing her hand on the ground palm up. She waited a moment, and one of the insects jumped onto her palm. She stood up, the insect's tiny brain apparently deciding it had jumped onto unsteady ground and that the best course of action was to hold on tight until it stabilized.
"Beautiful..." she whispered. Perhaps noticing that he didn't respond, Evelyn Collins looked over to her stoic companion. The Chief noticed that she had begun crying. "Don't you see?" she asked, her voice still a whisper. "It's alive...this place is...it's alive..."
Suddenly, the Chief understood. Collins was a native of Meridian. She had lost everything to the glassing and had been hard at work for years to help bring it back. She believed in what she was doing. And yet, everywhere she went there was nothing but death. The glasslands were completely bare, Meridian Station was not much better...Even the people were probably a drain on her optimism. The Master Chief grimaced behind his rebreather as he realized that he had not been helping in this regard. How many other people had his brewing conflict with Miller hurt?
Here, though...Here, in this cave, there was life. Proof that living things could endure the horror that had been inflicted upon this planet. Primitive as it was, as aesthetically disgusting as it would normally be, this place was a sort of vindication for Collins. Proof that her efforts were not in vain. Life could endure here. Life could return here. Meridian could be restored, and human beings like Collins could once again call it home.
The Master Chief had never regretted becoming a soldier. It was something that he was naturally good at and it was important. He enjoyed it. Even if he hadn't been conscripted, he couldn't imagine not becoming a soldier on his own. At that moment, however...looking at Collins as she sunk to her knees, crying tears of joy at the sight of a moss and bug-filled cave...the Chief felt a part of himself wishing he had become something else. It only lasted a moment...but it was there.
John wished he had become a painter.
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In the void above the troubled world of Meridian, a hole was abruptly torn in the fabric of space. A starship passed through and took up orbit around the planet. Out of it's hanger a single Pelican dropship flew before angling down toward the planet itself. Inside, it's occupants observed the planet for the first time through the personnel compartment's viewscreen.
"That's Meridian?" Spartan Buck asked. "Man, what shithole..."
Spartan Tanaka grunted in agreement. "That's what a glassed planet looks like, alright," she said.
Spartan Locke brought their attention back to the mission at hand. "This is where our targets are, people." He set his face behind his polarized faceplate. "Let's hunt them down."
Yes, dear readers, the moment has finally arrived. Osiris has reached Meridian. Now let's watch them screw stuff up for everyone!
Note: Some people have complained that the recent chapters have been largely filler and that I need to get back to the plot already. I like to think I've kept it interesting, but I figure I have to address this. My purpose in this fic is to advance these characters. That's the plot I want. I want to show what they're made of and how they react and grow to these extreme circumstances. As I've gone on writing, I find myself including less action than one might expect from a Halo story. I'm sorry, but that's just how it's been coming out. I didn't plan it this way but that's how I find myself writing it. There will be battles, don't worry, but they'll be relatively infrequent and won't take precedent over character development. Maybe I'm not doing a great job of balancing it. Like I've said before, I'm a newbie writer. Any advice is appreciated and I do thank you for voicing your complaints rather than just abandoning the fic. I have learned a lot thanks to your comments.
Note: My original purpose in this chapter was to establish a sense of hope for Meridian. I think I've done a good job conveying just how awful a place to live this is, but I also want to show why it's worth believing in. Linda sees a budding romance, Fred sees a meaningful friendship, Kelly sees some cute kids and their loving parents, and John sees a disgusting bug cave. In all seriousness, though, caring about Meridian is important. When the battles eventually come, I want people to actually be rooting for Meridian to be saved. Feedback?
Thanks for reading. Love you guys.
Slipspace Anomaly