Summary/disclaimer: Time for another chapter of Hunter and Soldier. Enjoy the 1500-word chapter. I don't own Halo, Microsoft, and 343 do.

(2526, April 12th UNSC Halcyon Class Light Cruiser Tenacity, 12:50 PM)

Gram looked up at the dim ceiling again. Almost everyone aboard the 1, 170.63-meter cruiser was asleep…. All except them. Gram looked up at the low roof of his sleeping pod and sighed as artificial light beamed down on the Spartan-II.

"Cal, you up?" Gram asked, holding up a hand to shield his face. "Ugh, I'd rather be hiking, I can't sleep. Sol? You up?" Gram questioned as he slowly pulled himself from the pod as he did so.

Cal was silent, she was awake. Even in the cramped confines of their room? One with a single data terminal, a working kitchen, and a bathroom? They were up, curious as to the state of the war around them. Spartans were born to hunt, marines, ODSTs? They were still with limits… Spartans were designed to live in battle, anything less and they might as well not have functioned at all.

"Yeah, what is it?" Cal asked, slowly pulling herself from her pod as well.

"Can any of us sleep?" Gram asked, turning towards the kitchen.

Cal watched as Gram pulled his legs towards, primed himself, and launched him out of his bed, clearing the metallic table in the middle of the cabin in one motion. He landed in a crouch and slowly but surely pulled himself to his feet, cracking his joints like an android slowly powering up.

"I can't, I'm starting to think part of spartan training is being immune to sleep." Gram said, rubbing his eyes as he shook his head.

Cal crossed her arms, that was almost surely true. They had so much put into them as soldiers, Cal wouldn't put it past Dr. Halsey to have devised a chemical that allowed them to not have to sleep or need it as heavily. It is sure as hell screwed with her focus, though.

"Maybe the ship doctor has something that put us under," Cal said as Solomon slowly awoke from his attempt at sleep as well.

"Or they could put us in cyro again," Solomon stated to which Gram rolled his eyes.

The spartan scout hated cyro. The burning sensation that felt like being dunked in plasma, the cramped corridors of the pods, the fact they were so exposed in the devices? He almost wondered how a regular marine or soldier dealt with the device.

"They do that? I think I'm going to scream." Gram said, leaning on the table in front of him. "We're shoved in a can till they wake us up. Dr. Halsey didn't design us to sleep, she designed us to kill. Sleep only helps when it comes down to how long we can stay in the field. The average drug puts a marine down for a few hours. Us? We'd be down for 2-5 minutes." Gram said, shaking his head as he did so.

Cal could see the marks of scratches and callouses on Gram's hands, the sign of a soldier who had been out on the battlefield for FAR longer than normal. She looked around the somewhat cramped room, ripe with gear and weapons neatly stacked around, they wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon, not around their element when she thought about it.

"We should head down to the medical bay and see if they have anything," Cal said, falling into her leadership role once more. "Unless either of you wants to go to the shooting range or spar," Cal added to which both Spartans reacted in their trademark way.

Gram was already interested in the idea, as insane and half-baked as it sounded. Solomon just liked resigned, eager to end it as he just wanted the sweet idea of sleep, it was something that she could agree with. Cal turned to lead the duo towards the room.

Without their MJOLNIR armor? Cal could read both Solomon and Gram's expressions far more clearly. Gram had the beginning to form around his eyes, he was less focused… Gram was going through sleep deprivation. Solomon was simply bored and curious about what happened next, the balling and uncurling of his fists showed he was eager to leave the ship.

"Both of you want a fight," Cal said which garnered a nod from both Spartans. "Me too, but Admiral Stanforth hasn't assigned anything yet," Cal said as they continued to march down the hallway.

Gram's eyes opened and narrowed, he slightly hopped from foot to foot as they boarded the lift. Solomon looked around the lift as Cal pressed the button which sent the ebon, 48 boxes moving through the cruiser. Gram crossed his arms over his chest as he shook his head.

"I'm going to the café first, save you a seat?" Solomon questioned as Gram shrugged.

"Yeah." Gram said as Solomon nodded, gave a brief nod to Cal while slowly walking away.

Gram watched, his eyes dilating as he did so. He put a hand onto the titanium A wall for balance. Cal turned to the Spartan who looked exhausted unlike a few minutes ago. Gram grunted while Cal moved towards him and crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow as she did so. Gram let out a yawn, cruising as he did so.

"Hmm…" Cal said as Gram looked at the ground, shaking his head in anger. "Gram," Cal said as Gram rubbed at his eyes.

"Gram," Cal said while Gram rubbed at his eyes with clear exhaustion in his eyes. "Look at me," Cal ordered as Gram slowly started to look up at the team leader.

Gram nodded, allowing Cal to place an arm on his shoulder. The spartan looked at his friend clearly, feeling a weight on his left shoulder as he did so. It stopped at his shoulder and squeezed, causing Gram to look her in the eye, he latched his arm on her right shoulder and did the same. He looked up to see Cal looking him in the eye, her other arm was on his right side, keeping the smaller spartan from moving.

"That arm has been keeping you up all the time, yes?" Cal questioned as Gram nodded.

"You know how Chief Mendez talked about wounded soldiers, yeah?" Gram asked to which Cal nodded. "What good is a spartan if they get taken down by a pile of maggots and some crappy reflexes. I was supposed to be the team scout and they still got the drop on us. It shouldn't happen to be it." Gram stated as he let out a sigh.

"They got the drop on all of us. you forgot what the chief said about wolves." Cal responded, keeping her arms planted so he couldn't avoid the topic. "We're a team. It was a team screw-up. Do you want to tell me you saw them coming? If you had just been a few steps faster, nothing would have happened?" Cal asked to which Gram hummed.

"It still ticks me off knowing Arty got put in the hospital by that SOB because I was slow." Gram said, leaning against the wall as he did so. "But it also doesn't help that we're here. John, Jerome, Jai, Margert? EVERY single other team of Spartans is out there fighting. We're busy sitting around… I don't hate not having time to clear my head, I hate the fact that we're meant to be some of the best soldiers and yet they don't know what to do." Gram stated as Cal fell silent.

She knew what he meant, however? They weren't meant to constantly be on the frontlines. Silver Team was meant to handle black ops missions just like Grey and Black team. Missions of vital importance to the war effort, killing countless covenant soldiers wouldn't end the war any faster than finding a weak link in their armor.

"We captured a prophet, and currently? We're en route to another mission." Cal said, sighing as she did so. "You know if I wanted to? We'd be in the field, hunting hostiles across space. Admiral Stanforth doesn't know what to do next. He told me before we slept last night, he was assigning us mission permitters asap. If he knew what we needed? He'd have given us it… Trust me, I want to go fighting now, being cooped up on a cruiser isn't exactly helping the war effort, but we can't be stupid." Cal added to which Gram leaned on the wall.

The two could only stare at each other, too caught up in their thoughts.

Author Notes

Phew. Another chapter is done! I want to point out that the next chapter will be setting up the next mission and arc. The next chapter will be in 2-10 months and will be 900-3500 words. It will also set up the games and such. Until then, Lighting Wolf out!

P.S: Next chapter might be delayed at the moment now.