Peoples, I am extremely proud of this one chapter, so i better get some love for it. I think you will like it, a lot.

-casquis

Chapter LXXII: Meet the Team

July 23, 2542 (UNSC Calendar)/

UNSC Inconvenience, Slipspace

"Team meeting?" Pavel asked. "Are you for real?"

"What?" I complained. "We all have to get to know one another sooner or later," I said. "We haven't even done any kind of training together."

"And?" Pavel asked. "We're simply on a two-month patrol deployment," he said.

"Yeah," I replied sarcastically. "Because the last patrol deployment ended so well."

"Touché," he was forced to agree. "But still, it's not like we're in kindergarten, no need for that 'stand up and say something about yourselves routine'."

"No," I said nervously, "of course not."

"Frank…"

"Relax, I'm kidding. I'll just give the usual 'I'm in charge here' speech and then tell them what's expected of them and all that."

"You'd better do it right," Pavel suggested. "The last thing you want is for everyone to think you're a dork?"

"Why would that be so bad?" I asked. "You don't seem to be very affected by it." I gave my friend a couple of friendly pats on his shoulder and opened the debriefing room, which happened to be the SOEIV bay. What better place to prepare for hell than the gates of hell itself. Right?

"Gentlemen and lady, my name is Staff Sergeant Francisco Castillo, although you already know that, this here is Sergeant Pavel Klaus. In this squad I am God and he is my only son and your savior." I knew that Pavel would get the 'I fucked your mom' stealth insult, even if nobody else did. "There are some other important things that you should know…"

The Scotsman (20 minutes earlier…)

PFC Robert Agnarsson

This is a nice ship, I thought to myself. Bloody good one at that too. A wee little thing compared to the other spaceships I had served in before. But being smaller it had a lot less space to cram all the technology into. That made the ship damn impressive. While I was trying to learn the hallways and rooms of the ship (which was surprisingly hard for a craft less than six hundred meters long) someone bumped into me.

"Watch where yer going," I yelled at the careless oaf that hadn't been watching his way. Turned out to be a girl, and a fairly good-looking one at that.

"Maybe you oughta look around once in a while," she yelled back, "Asshole."

I was too astonished to come up with anything to say. It wasn't very often that I got talked back to as an ODST, but it was even less common to get talked back to by a woman wearing only a tank top and the bottom half of an overall. Highly unusual. By the time I came up with a bloody good comeback for the dumb girl she was gone and I was left there standing like an imbecile gaping at nothing. I think there was a name for that, coming up with a comeback after you should've used it. Spirit of the stairs, I think it was. No wait, that sounds bloody stupid.

"Private First Class Agnarsson?" a pleasant voice coming from nowhere asked.

"Ey, who's there?"

"Relax, it's just me." A hologram displaying an attractive woman clad in a lab coat appeared in front of me. It displayed a lot of static, meaning that it was probably displayed from a holoband pasted to one of the walls or the ceiling. "I'm the ships on-board Artificial Intelligence MPCAI-0278, but you may call me Eliza."

"Go on," I said, trying to appear undisturbed by the construct appearing directly in front of me. It was the first time I had ever spoken to an AI directly.

"First of, I am a smart AI, meaning that I can control all of the PDG systems during combat in addition to tracing MAC and archer trajectories at the same time. I'm pretty fucking smart."

I was very surprised by an AI swearing so casually, I always pictured the constructs as snobby bastards with monocles that took the every opportunity to use big and obscure words and silently mocked us behind our backs. This broke the first part of my stereotype completely. I was still pretty sure that she would still mock me behind my back.

"I can also watch everything that goes on inside the ship at the same time. Let me remind you that I am sentient, so you shouldn't get on my bad side, capiche?"

"Uh, hm, I…"

"Great, now that we've put that behind our backs, let's move on. You already know your assigned quarters, your commanding officer was kind enough to get you a room all to yourself. There was a set of instructions on your role onboard the ship during periods of non-combat which you already read-"

"Hey!"

"As I said, I watch everything."

"Shite, you remind me of Vicky," I muttered.

"I beg you not to make obscure references to twenty-first century films," the AI said. "I might be bound to the three laws of robotics when we're not in combat, but I can certainly make your life difficult Private."

"PFC," I said. "It's PFC."

"Ah yes. Well, back to the point. Your squad leader wants to see you in the SOEIV bay in fifteen minutes, hurry along please. The way you seem lost in this halls you seem to be failing to learn the ship's layout is very disturbing."

"What? How do you even know that?" I asked.

"As I said, I am a smart AI, I can multitask, in fact, I am talking to the rest of your new squad right now."

Having said all that needed to be said, the AI flickered and its avatar disappeared. I knew that even though it wasn't engaging in direct conversation with me, at least one of its several subroutines would be paying mind to my actions. She was a mean little bitch that one. I would have a hard time getting along with the AI. Hopefully, she wouldn't intrude too much on our operations.

I headed towards the general direction of the HEV pod bay. I didn't know exactly where it was, but I had one more day before we were all stuck into cryo and left there for about a month before the ship reached its destination. On the way there I couldn't help but think about the sergeant. Francisco Castillo was his name. When I had first met him I was, well frankly, I was really impressed. He managed to save what little he could of my platoon and complete the mission under overwhelming odds. He had even managed to take down an arbiter in the process. Well, him and his friend. Now that I think back to it, Klaus deserved as much praise as Castillo. He was certainly equally talented, even if not nearly as good with his… finesse.

The Staff Sergeant's recommendation to the Hellljumpers had definitely helped me a lot, helped me a lot to literally get into hell. It's not very often that I am glad for a get into hell free pass, but this time I was. Strange, ain't it?

After making two wrong turns I spotted the painted arrow that pointed towards the drop pod bay, I followed its directions and entered the room. It seemed that I had taken my sweet time walking there, because all the other new rookies were already in here. There was a supermodel, a short and skinny kid, a man with an Italian-looking mustache that couldn't help but remind me of Mario (you probably don't know who that is), a walking tower of doom with ebony skin, and an average looking man smoking a cigarette and leaning on a wall.

I was immediately annoyed because I was only the third most intimidating person in this room. First, walking tower of doom. At seven feet you usually cause an impression. In second place was Barbie, sometimes you can be intimidating in an unconventional way, but I'll be damned if her looks didn't make me wanna shit my pants. Before I had the time to examine my new team further or even say anything, the door behind me opened and Castillo and Klaus entered the room.

"Gentlemen and lady, my name is Staff Sergeant Francisco Castillo, although you already know that, this here is Sergeant Pavel Klaus. In this squad I am God and he is my only son and your savior. There are some other important things that you should know…"

The Supermodel (18 minutes earlier…)

PFC Camilla Seppa

"…in fact, I am talking to the rest of your new squad right now."

I winked twice in surprise as the artificial intelligence's avatar flickered and disappeared. I knew absolutely everything that you needed to know about an artificial intelligence, but I am ashamed to admit that despite my achievements, it was only the first time that I had dealt with one in person. At least I can cross that of my list now. The construct had contacted me while I was in my room. At least the staff sergeant had been intelligent enough to get me my very own room. Most of my superiors hadn't been that smart when they assigned me in the same room as a bunch of brutes before I was forced to request a different room.

I stood up and stretched myself, the last hours I had spent in my room studying the ship's history. The early years were filled with black ink, but more recent operations were unclassified and I was certainly impressed to be part of a ship with such an impressive history. I could only begin to imagine what kind of stuff was written under all that black ink.

My superiors' dossiers provided a lot less information than I would've liked. It said the Staff Sergeant Castillo graduated from Camp Mars IX, a notoriously tough training camp (one of the few that had real jumps as part of training), but made no mention of his previous service as a marine. He had received all three stars, with three Silver Stars, four Bronze Stars, and one Gold Star. He had also been issued the Legion of Honor and had more Purple Hearts than I had fingers to count. Of all the medals in his dossier, only one had a citation free of ONI censorship. It was rather impressive at that as well. Castillo had been suggested to be a recipient of the Colonial Cross, but his applications had all been denied.

The picture that came along with his dossier showed him sporting a short mohawk haircut and a cocky smile. His haircut had been different when he interviewed me, but the smile was still the same. In paper, he was the perfect soldier, at least as far as the viewable sections of his dossier were concerned at least. I ran my fingers through his photo longingly before realizing what I was doing and suddenly stopping myself. I blushed even though no one was there. Well, no human was here, but that AI was bound to be watching. I hoped that she didn't notice that, although I knew that it had probably recorded that and was having a laugh at my expense.

Stupid construct, I blamed it.

Sergeant Pavel Klaus's dossier was not as impressive as Castillo's, but it was certainly a handful as well. He had had a short but illustrious career in the Corps before deciding to join the 105th Shock Troops Division. He graduated from a boot camp that was as equally notorious for being rough as Camp Mars IX. He had been immediately transferred to the Drop Jet Platoon and had his first engagement as an ODST in Jericho VII. He was the only survivor of his entire unit, badly wounded and with no way to contact any friendly forces, he hid out in a military camp in the same planet, there he was found and rescued by Staff Sergeant Castillo. From that point on his dossier was full of black ink.

Klaus had the same commendations that Castillo had save for the Legion of Honor, although he had also been put forward to receive the award on numerous occasions, a few had been denied under the excuse that no two members of the same squad can receive the same commendation. Sergeant Klaus had less Purple Hears but the same amount of Bronze and Gold Stars as Staff Sergeant Castillo and one less Silver Star. By all accounts he should've been one of the best. It was difficult to give him the credit he deserved when you compared him to his direct superior though.

I gave up on finding more information about those two and moved on to the ship's complement. Strangely, this frigate had both Marine and Army complements, Echo Company, 6th Battalion from the 200th and B Company, 3rd Battalion from the 22nd Armored Cavalry Regiment respectively. Both were companies that came from extremely prestigious battalions. They had both suffered heavy casualties since being assigned to the Inconvenience, with little over 60% of the original members of Echo still active. The number was 64% for B Company.

The two companies had received several ribbons and both the ship's captain and several other high-ranking officers had praised their actions. Hell, even the two longsword pilots that the ship possessed were triple aces each, both having survived years in one of the deadliest branches of the military. Being part of this ship was something that I should be proud of.

I glanced at my watch and decided that it was probably time that I started moving along. The HEV drop pod bay was only a few minutes away. It was easy enough to find, just keep climbing down and you'll find all the arrows leading towards it very obvious. I entered the room and wasn't really shocked that I was the first one to arrive, I was, after all, early.

The first member of my new squad to arrive was a man of about 5'11 that promptly leaned back on a pod and started smoking a cigarette, he didn't say hello so I ignored him. Next up was a very large black man that simply nodded at me before sitting down on one of the two chairs in the room. The next to arrive was a small, thin, and scrawny-looking Indian guy. Later came an Italian-looking man with a mustache, and then a tall and broad-shoulder guy with a full beard covering the lower half of his face. I hadn't gotten along to reading their dossiers yet, I didn't even know their names.

"Gentlemen and lady, my name is Staff Sergeant Francisco Castillo, although you already know that, this here is Sergeant Pavel Klaus. In this squad I am God and he is my only son and your savior. There are some other important things that you should know…"

The Tower (18 minutes earlier…)

PFC George Sutton

"…in fact, I am talking to the rest of your new squad right now."

I nodded politely at the hologram even though it was gone now. My mother had always said that it was best to be polite, and the lesson stuck, even if it was to a glorified computer. The nod disrupted my concentration and I was forced to stop the presses for a few instants. The gym was empty right now, with most of the ship's complement either sleeping o slacking off. With no one to spot for me I could only lift 900 pounds safely without risking the barbell chopping of my head.

Your head's so hard it could break through a wall, I thought. That's what my grandma used to say to me. I doubt it would be hard enough to escape 900 pounds of steel falling on it unscathed. Just five more. I thought to myself. Five more and I'm out of here.

Ten bench presses later I left the weights on their rack and moved towards the showers. I quickly washed away all the sweat from my body and dried myself up before changing my clothes. The shirt was too damn small. They were always too damn small. As much as I appreciated the intimidation factor that came with wearing them so tightly, they were uncomfortable as it can get. Oh, they stretched eventually, but in the meanwhile I had to suffer through it.

As soon as I shrugged my way into my shirt I walked towards my room, I had a couple of saved candy bars there, and exercise usually makes me hungry. My room was only occupied by myself, thankfully, I was a friendly guy and got along with people most of the time, but I was still large and needed my own space, sharing a room would've been uncomfortable and not as pleasant as having one all to myself. I had Staff Sergeant Castillo to thank for that.

I grabbed a snickers bar and let myself fall down on my bed. The mattress was still hard an uncomfortable, but enough time of sleeping on it should change that, perhaps I could use it as a punching bag to accelerate the process. The bunk above mine was full of books and letters. Most of them were religious books that my ma sent to me, I read all of them, but it was starting to get tedious. The letters, well, those were another story. Instead of sending regular mails, my mom had convinced all of my siblings to hone their writing skills. So far their writing was getting better and better, but I would've thought it better that they send me simple scans of their letters. It took regular mail long enough to arrive as it was, an actual written letter was something else entirely, sometimes taking over six months to arrive.

I shuffled through the latest letters and smiled as I went through them. My oldest brother had gotten a sports scholarship and was now playing as a quarterback in some prestigious university back home. My sisters were doing great in high school and my younger brother seemed to be doing great in their pee-wee soccer teams. There were a few drawings from my youngest siblings that showed me in badly drawn ODST armor squishing covvies under my boots and shooting down airplanes. I pinned those up on my wall and strapped my sidearm to my leg before leaving the room. At least my family was safe and sound back in Wisconsin. No way Earth would ever get touched, no way in hell.

I walked towards the SOEIV bay and made a point to remember the way down here. With the reputation that this ship had I was sure that there would be more than a few wake up calls in the middle of the night for some emergency jump or other. It was always good to know your surroundings, that's what my pa always said. Know your surroundings and you'll triumph. Or something similar, he had a way of slurring his speech that made it hard to understand him sometimes. A twenty-year long career of boxing usually leaves you a little bit cuckoo.

I entered the room to find a man smoking a cigarette with a relaxed look and a half-smile on his lips as well as one of the most attractive women I had ever seen. The unflattering cargo pants and ODST t-shirt that she wore managed to look great on her. I nodded politely at her, not trusting myself to speak without blabbering and then sat down while I waited for the staff sergeant to arrive. Along came three other men, one looked to be Indian and another one had a Mediterranean look to him, but I could be wrong. The last one to arrive looked like an Englishman, don't ask me how I know that.

Soon after the Englishman arriving my new squad leader and the other veteran of this unit arrived.

"Gentlemen and lady, my name is Staff Sergeant Francisco Castillo, although you already know that, this here is Sergeant Pavel Klaus. In this squad I am God and he is my only son and your savior. There are some other important things that you should know…"

The Street Urchin (18 minutes earlier…)

Cpl. Naveen Avninder

I saw the three marines walking towards my direction and did my best to sneak out of their sight. The AI had told me that I should head towards the SOEIV bay, but I still had some time before arriving. I didn't want to be the first idiot to arrive and have everyone think I was an overachieving bastard. That never went well back home.

No, not home, that was not your home. It never was.

If a few words couldn't change my perception of my birthplace, a few thought out words wouldn't be a big help either. Mumbai had been a terrible place for me. I'm sure that it's not really so bad, that there were people who loved the city and were perfectly happy living in it. Me, on the other hand, couldn't have hated it more. My mom died giving birth, I never knew my father, every single friend I made happened to be killed by some street punk or other. It wasn't until I was seventeen and I beat two men to death and left another one within an inch of dying that the local gangs learned to stop bothering me. They might've been thugs, but they were poor thugs, they didn't have any weapons more advanced than shivs and the occasional switchblade.

I glanced at the clock in my room's wall and decided that there was still quite some time before I had to haul ass and start making my way down to the drop bay. I had two things that I could do before leaving: a date with Rosie Palms, or cleaning my gun. I know that both of them sound like a euphemism for the same thing, but the second one is actually literal. I decided against the date version and instead decided that I would clean my M400 EMR.

The gun itself was a work of art. It looked basically like its smaller, less powerful cousin, the M392 DMR. There were some aesthetic differences that distinguished the EMR from the DMR: My gun had a slightly smaller, more skeletal stock that was skinnier. The trigger guard didn't protect the entire grip, just going halfway downwards. The hand guard was longer than and had a more angular design to it, except for the part you were supposed to hold on to, that one was supposed to adapt to the shape of your hand. The barrel itself was also longer, slightly heavier than that of the DMR. The two essential differences were that the EMR had an Oracle C-variant scope instead of the less powerful EVOS-D scope that the DMR had. The Oracle C-variant was essentially the same that an Oracle N-variant on an SRS-99D only that smaller. The second essential change from the DMR was that my gun could fire the 9.5x40mm rounds that the BR55 could fire. The magazines were even compatible.

I started by putting apart all the pieces of my gun and placing them on top of a rag in carefully arranged positions. I took my time with each end every one of those pieces, oiling them when necessary and making sure that not a single speck of dust was anywhere to be seen. I double-checked each piece before starting to assemble back the rifle. The act was so routine, so familiar that it took me all of thirty seconds to assemble back the weapon. I slammed an empty magazine into the receiver and pulled back the bolt. The sound of it reassured me a little bit, even if there was nothing that I needed reassurance for.

I glanced back at the clock and was glad to see that I still had some time. I had to decide whether to take a shower or take up the original offer to have a date with Rosie Palms. I pondered about it for a minute before realizing that I could actually do both of them at the same time. I started to smile and then remembered that the AI's hologram had appeared inside my room, which was supposedly against regulations. I decided against doing any of those two activities and instead reread Staff Sergeant Castillo and Sergeant Klaus's dossiers. They were both a mouthful.

I knew them almost by heart, they both seemed to be psychologically sane, so there was no reason why I shouldn't trust them to lead the team. They were also incredibly talented soldiers.

I stretched myself and placed my gun in the bunk above mine. My room was a mess, but it was mine and no one would come knocking and ordering an ODST to pick up his shit, so I could do whatever I wanted inside this room.

The trip to the pod bay was uneventful and I was only the fourth soldier to arrive. Already inside the room there was a devastatingly attractive woman with blonde hair and blue eyes and killer curves. Also inside was a huge tower of a man with a shaved head and muscles that could make a comic-book superhero jealous. The third man inside was a man whose face was obscured by his cap that was smoking a cigarette. I immediately hunched my shoulders and tried to look as non-intimidating as possible. I knew that that wasn't necessary, but it had grown into a habit and I didn't really bother with getting rid of it.

A minute after me came a moderately large and muscular man that just had to be from Italy if that mustache had any say in his nationality. I swear to you, it was almost ridiculous. After the Italian a broad-shouldered man with a red beard that covered all his lower face came in. Barging right after him came the two men with the word sergeant on their rank that were present in this team.

"Gentlemen and lady, my name is Staff Sergeant Francisco Castillo, although you already know that, this here is Sergeant Pavel Klaus. In this squad I am God and he is my only son and your savior. There are some other important things that you should know…"

The Videogame Character (18 minutes earlier…)

LCpl. Arcangelo Lamberti

The voice suddenly stopped and I got no further words from Eliza, the AI.

"Hello?" I called out. "You still there?" I didn't get any answer "No? Alright then."

I slammed the box magazine of my M247SAW into its receiver and placed the ammunition belt on its place before slamming down the top half of my gun on it. I pulled back the bolt of my gun and pressed down on the pedal that activated the targets on the firing range.

The first one was a lucky grunt that got ten rounds through its abdomen, chest, and face. As soon as the paper target was down another one popped up further away and at a different angle. I took that one down quickly as well. Twenty-three targets later I had to press the pedal again to stop the animation. It was the third time that I had tried this. With two hundred rounds in my magazine, I should've been able to take down two hundred paper targets, but machine-gunners were taught to fire in sustained bursts of ten to fifteen rounds. Mostly for covering fire, but I wanted to perfect my aiming skills with my weapon, you never know when you might need to actually kill someone instead of making them keep their heads down.

I tried one more time, managing to bring my kill count up to thirty. The habit of keeping the trigger squeezed for over one second was a hard one to break, it just felt like the targets weren't really dead. I know that the notion is absurd since those targets were paper targets, not actual live aliens. After another try with the exact same result I shrugged to myself and placed my gun on a rack before grabbing a slice of pizza.

I had ordered fifty large pizzas back in Leseath, they had been placed in a special crate that I paid a cook to smuggle on board the ship and keep inside the kitchen's fridge. Those things would be good for as long as I wanted them to be. Right now I was enjoying my first one of many to come. It tasted just like cold pizza should've tasted: surprisingly delicious.

I hefted my weapon and slung it over my shoulder as I started the walk back to my room while eating the rest of my original Italian pizza. It was not nearly as good as the real Italian pizzas back home, but it was pretty close for a fast food version. On the way to my room I crossed paths with two lovely ladies and offered them each a slice of my pizza. They both took it gladly and thanked me with smiles. They now liked me, which was step one for getting a girl to jump into bed with you. Sometimes step one was the only step.

I made my way to my room. That's right, only mine. Once inside I placed my gun on a rack on the wall and then changed my shirt, for some reason I always seemed to get sweaty when firing my gun. I sprayed some deodorant all over my chest and armpits before putting on one of the newly issued ODST shirts that I'd been given. It said ODST in small white letters over the chest and had the legend UNSC Inconvenience right below the acronym.

Man they make these things tight. I thought as I pulled down on the sleeves. I wished that they felt so tight because my biceps were awesome, but even though I had some awesome guns in my arms, that's right, awesome guns, the shirts really were unnecessarily tight. I finished my pizza and gave a nice, long burp before making sure that mu mustache was looking fine. You wouldn't know it by looking at me right now, but that beauty had taken my months to grow and perfect. The wait had paid off, it looked incredibly awesome though. I checked my watch (stolen) and made sure that all my computers were in order before leaving my room, closing the door safely behind me.

I walked down the empty halls and by the end of my trip I was almost sprinting. There is something incredibly disturbing about not being able to see anyone else or hear anything other than your own footsteps. I reached the SOEIV room and entered. I was relieved to see that there were actual people inside the room. A chick that had been taken right out of a catwalk, an Indian guy that looked unhealthily skinny, an ogre with a pleasant face, and a guy sporting a black cap and smoking a cigarette. After I entered the room a guy with a very awesome red-haired bear entered the room. Right behind me was out new team leader and his second in command. I had to admit that they looked pretty badass standing side by side. Both were attractive and had excellent physiques, with their arms and chest showing muscles and their shoulders broad. The tight shirts that they also seemed to be wearing actually did them a favor.

Ok, I'm going to stop myself right here before I start sounding like I don't like women.

"Gentlemen and lady, my name is Staff Sergeant Francisco Castillo, although you already know that, this here is Sergeant Pavel Klaus. In this squad I am God and he is my only son and your savior. There are some other important things that you should know…"

The Last Pick (18 minutes earlier…)

Cpl. Grigori Konstantinov

The hologram disappeared in a puff of smoke. The cigarette I was smoking was the second to last that I had on board this ship. Cigarettes weren't really allowed on board unless they were the UNSC sanctioned brand that sold in the ship's store. I hadn't gotten around to buying those pieces of crap just yet. I'd probably find some marine with a pack of Marlboros before trying to even buy UNSC cigarettes.

The hologram that displayed Eliza had flickered down to a holopad. I always found it highly annoying that AI's that were 'female' chose their avatars to represent extremely attractive women. It was disturbing and left me feeling confused, but there was absolutely nothing that I could do about it.

"Corporal?"

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was saying," Captain Brooks said brusquely, "that it is interesting that you've had so many different squads throughout your career."

"Yes, I am what you would call a jack of all trades. Whenever a squad needs someone to fulfill a certain role I am sent in with that purpose. Well, that and my original squad was wiped out in an accident. Brass never did get to assigning me to another squad. Until now, at least."

"I see, what about all these reports that you have a problem with authority?"

"I don't, they are just exaggerations."

"I hope so, because Castillo and Klaus are my men, and I watch out for my people."

"Yessir."
"They are excellent soldiers, both of them. You'd better do everything they tell you."

"I will, sir, don't doubt it sir," I replied.

"Good," Brooks said. "Now, for the real reason that you came here."

"Sir?" I asked him, confused.

"You see, I'm not stupid man corporal, you should learn that."

"Huh?"

"Well, the other five files from your new squadmates have been sent to me completely uncensored. Yours on the other hand…"

Smarter than he looks, this one.

"Sir, I am afraid I don't understand your point," I deflected.

"Then I am afraid that ONI sent the wrong man to spy on my crew," he replied. Brooks was playing a dangerous game. It would've been better for all of us if he had saved this information all for himself. Besides, now I had to make a report…

"Sir, ONI didn't send me for anything," I insisted.

"Good one," Brooks complimented. "You even held eye contact."

Well, shit.

"Captain, I am sure that there are some valid reasons why Naval Intelligence doesn't want to show certain sections involving past operations I took part in, but be assured that I am not here to hurt on you, your ship, or your ODST team. I am just another guy they picked up."

"Yeah, right," Brooks said. There was an edge to his voice that I didn't like at all. I had been dealing with ONI spooks all my life, and those were quite scary as it is, Brooks hating me wasn't something I needed.

"Sir, I understand your worrying, but there is nothing for me to hide, sometimes ONI just doesn't want the world to find out about certain ops. Hell, look at Staff Sergeant Castillo and Sergeant Klaus, their dossiers are more black ink than white paper."

"I'll be watching you," Brooks warned. "Dismissed."

I made my back rigid and stood as straight as I possibly could while bringing my hand to my forehead in a salute. I made a point not to knock my cap of my head so I didn't look like an idiot. I held the pose for two seconds before doing a neat about turn and leaving the bridge. Eliza had warned me about a team meeting, Noncoms loved having those for some reason. At least there was a point to them, better fight with people you know than with complete strangers.

"Uh-oh," I heard.

"Eliza?" I asked, curious.

"Looks like somebody's busted," the AI said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I told the construct.

"Oh please, I know all about our little superhuman friend," the AI said, "and also about one certain Major Cavallaro. Don't take me for an idiot."

"Shhh, are you stupid?" I asked while frantically looking around.

"Oh calm down, there's no one within earshot," she said. "I checked."

"What do you want?" I asked the AI. Having dealt with these before, I knew that they usually had some sort of hidden agenda that diverged slightly from their intended purpose. For all I knew the AIs could secretly be our evil overlords.

"Nothing, I just want you to be very careful with whatever information you decide to send back to Reach. I might be an AI, I might have a purpose hardwired into me, I might be a machine, but I am sentient and I actually care about this ship and its crew. If anything you were to report back to ONI endangered any of this ship's crew or complement… well, let's just say it's not that hard to accidentally eject you into vacuum."

"What?"

I got no answer after that, only a very uncomfortable feeling of being watched and the urge to keep my hands very close to the walls in case there was a sudden change in pressure that started pulling me to the empty blackness of space. Or whatever slipspace looked like. This AI was a sentimental one, perhaps it was nearing its seven year time limit. Maybe it was rampant already. I'd have to check on its history before sending a report. If I sent one for nothing she would find out, and I didn't want that.

I looked around carefully and stopped myself when I realized that I had turned three times trying to look for the AI. If it didn't pop up a hologram there was no way I would spot it. Instead I simply kept on walking towards the ODST drop pod bay and made a point to be early. Brooks already disliked me and I had been threatened by an artificial intelligence already. This wasn't a very good start to my stay on the ship, but I've had worse.

I entered the drop pod bay and was startled to find someone in there. The girl was simply stunning, I'll tell you that. I hadn't gotten along to reading the rest of my new squad's files yet. I was about to ask her what she was doing here but then I realized that she had an ODST shirt on. It was as tight as the ones that were issued to us, her male counterparts. For once, I wont complain about that. In fact, I think all the previous suffering almost makes it worth it. I quickly snapped my head in another direction and walked towards a pod. I leaned my back against it and reached into my pocket. I pulled out an almost empty cigarette box and my lighter. I lit the last cigarette and had to repress the urge to sigh with pleasure as the smoke entered my lungs. After all, I didn't want my new squadmate to think I was a freak.

She's in your squad, so she's off-limits.

That's right, damn it.

I blushed slightly when I realized that I was arguing with myself and looked at the floor so that my cap would cover my blush. Nothing interesting happened after that other than the rest of my new team arriving. They all looked pretty promising except for a small, thin, and lanky Indian kid. I was almost certainly wrong about him though, he had been recruited into one of the best outfits in the military. When I think that that outfit in question had consisted of only two men for several years I couldn't help but be impressed.

Seconds after the sixth member of the squad entered, those two men that would've been legends had their missions and exploits been made public walked into the room. I knew Francisco Castillo's face from all the files I had read on him. I couldn0t help but be jealous of him. He had been an excellent soldier before even getting his augmentations.

"Gentlemen and lady, my name is Staff Sergeant Francisco Castillo, although you already know that, this here is Sergeant Pavel Klaus. In this squad I am God and he is my only son and your savior. There are some other important things that you should know…"

So that's what a Spartan IV looks like…