1425 Hours, July 16, 2560 (Military Calendar) /

Elduros System, Planet Aleria

Aleria, once the scene of a hopeful band of colonists desperate to carve out their own place in a harsh galaxy, was an unforgiving place. With no rain in nearly eleven decades, the entire planet was one massive desert that stretched on forever in every direction. The sun scorched the earth during the day, and the cold of night froze anything unlucky enough not to have access to sturdy shelter and functioning heating units.

As harsh and unforgiving as Aleria was, her people were even worse. The optimistic terraformers had quickly turned to the mines when they realized that the planet itself was no ally. Instead, the Mols'Desias Mining Union promised to take care of their every need through imports - provided, of course, that they remained profitable with their exports of rare minerals. And although the union abused its power and control over the Alerians for decades, they eked out an uneasy balance between survival and living.

Then the Covenant came. Half of Aleria was glassed, and half of what was left starved when the Mols'Desias Union collapsed and the shipments stopped coming. Eventually, the rough miners turned to something more likely to pay the bills; smuggling. Now, the barren world was nothing more than a massive outpost for dozens of independent smuggling rigs. Some of them brought equipment and supplies to Aleria, others shipped for private contractors and appreciated the anonymity inherent in operating from such a disreputable location.

The UEG never stretched out far enough to reach them and stop their operations. The Insurrection relied on their services. The Covenant never returned, and even the Created seemed to pass them by. The Alerians were invisible.

That invisibility was exactly what drew Fireteam Cutlass and the frigate Calypso to Aleria.

They'd been on a deep-infiltration mission – their collective specialty - when the call came down that there was an uprising of AI. In a matter of hours, they went from business as usual to operating alone, without a shred of evidence of chain of command to be found anywhere. So, naturally, the young Spartans did what they were best at. They blended in. They found a home for themselves on Aleria, and they smuggled what they could from where they could. Most importantly, they did their best to gather information.

It was for this very purpose that the fireteam was currently wandering through the colony's robust market. They went from booth to booth, speaking with the sellers and observing the wares, always keeping their eyes and ears open for anything that could give a hint about what was happening in the world at large.

The team medic, Elizabeth-G257, had just stopped to inspect some fruit at one of the booths. After all, they would look suspicious if they didn't buy anything, and Cutlass needed to resupply just the same as any other Alerian smuggling crew. First she bought a basketful of something cheap that would be filling and nutritious, then she let her hand wander into the peaches.

She felt a few of them until she found one that was just soft enough to be ripe. She lifted it to her nose and relished the scent of the sweet fruit as she inhaled. Elizabeth didn't remember much about her childhood, since she was so young when the Covenant came to her home world. What she did remember typically involved sitting beneath an old peach tree in what she believed was her grandmother's garden.

Even now, so many years later, the simple smell was enough to transport the Spartan home. She clung to the feeling for a brief moment, but then the moment passed. Then she was back to work. The young woman replaced the fruit in the pile, hoping that someone here would be able to enjoy it as much as she would have.

She made her way to several more booths, gathering odds and ends for their infirmary and a few pieces of information that the Banished were planning something big, and soon. It was stale info, but the fact that it was spreading definitely helped to build its credibility in the world at large.

Not for the first time, Elizabeth wished they had found an in with the Banished. Perhaps then they would be in the know about something - anything - substantial about what was going on in the galaxy at large. Sao always warned them to be patient. To wait for the opportune moment, as Jack liked to put it. But it wasn't easy, not knowing what was going on in the larger scheme of things.

Elizabeth was startled out of her introspection when a shadow fell across the display of knock-off women's jewelry she was scanning. Her pulse jumped, paranoia running deep in her veins. She mumbled an apology to whoever she had stood in the way of and began to move away, but stopped when she felt a hand gently take hold of her forearm.

"You don't have to move," said a familiar voice reassuringly, the grin on his face present in his words. "This stuff isn't really my style, anyway."

Elizabeth turned to glare up at the man. "James," she hissed through clenched teeth, "you could have given me a heart attack." Her tone was sharp, but it lacked any of the venom of her true ire. In reality, the marksman was a welcome sight - not to mention distraction - in light of her recent pessimistic thoughts.

"I thought you could use some company," he said casually, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. "I've already done my rounds and come up empty. How are you faring?"

"About the same," Elizabeth admitted, making a show of slowly walking to the next booth and observing their wares. "Whispers that Atriox is on the move, but nothing substantial or specific."

James nodded along, implying that he had found just the same. He remained silent, and the pair focused on picking over the contents of the booth as though they were regular customers. Finally, the sniper spoke up in a voice so quiet Elizabeth could hardly hear him.

"You looked tense back there," he murmured. He picked up a spool of old speaker wire and inspected it for a moment before finally tossing it back into the pile. "What were you thinking about?"

Elizabeth picked out a hand held radio that looked as though it must have been hundreds of years old. "I just . . . I get lost in my head sometimes," she admitted. "Sometimes I like to try to remember what life was like before all this. Do you ever do that?"

"I wonder some," James answered slowly, coming around to stand beside her as they stared into the same bin. "But then," he continued, still trying to act as though what he was sifting through had his full attention while simultaneously grabbing hold of her hand, "if none of this had happened, I probably would never have met you."

Elizabeth resisted the urge to recoil instinctually at the unexpected contact. When she managed to quell that urge, she turned her hand so that she could interlock her fingers with his for the briefest of moments. When she looked up at James, he was grinning down at her in that way of his that might have made her swoon if she were made of lighter stock.

"I suppose that may count for something," she muttered, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go. "Now you should go back to your own area," she admonished as she stepped away from him. "You're slowing me down."

James dipped his head, "Yes ma'am," he whispered as he backed away with hands at chest level in mock before he turned away, he seemed to remember something. He buried his hand into the pocket of his jacket, and tossed whatever he found down there straight to her. "Something to remind you," he said casually, before turning and walking away.

Elizabeth looked at the object he had thrown to her. She fought hard to keep the thoughtful smile from blossoming on her face when she recognized it - a peach. She looked up and spent a few moments watching him go, trying hard to convince herself that she was not admiring the figure he cut as he walked away from her.

Finally she turned away herself and started making her way to the next booth. Slowly, she lifted the peach to her lips and relished in the smell, the flavor, and the memory of the fruit. Only the memory had changed slightly. There still remained the bit about the garden and the grandmother and the old tree, but it was accompanied by something new.

Now, the image in her mind included a young man with warm hands and a dashing smile sitting beside her beneath that fruit tree.

Elizabeth smiled, and took a bite.