Remnants

by General Rage

From Halo's ashes, a mismatched Alliance is born. UNSC soldiers now serve alongside both Batarian deserters and shifty Jackal Space Pirates. Now Shepard and Master Chief have to keep these strange bedfellows from killing one another before they can stop an emergent new threat to the galaxy. The Next Swashbuckling Chapter of the Wormhole Chronicles.

24. Equal Exchange

Chapter 23: Equal Exchange

I will not be another Flower picked for my Beauty and Left to Die.

I will be the Wind, Difficult to Find and Impossible to Forget.

-Erin Von Vuren

As Maisey stood in front of the open hangar, brimming with UNSC exosuits alongside a few vehicles, her fury remained entirely focused on the Holland, Whitcomb and Haverson. Her friends backed her up, even if they did look concerned over the situation they found themselves in. Even the guards were anxious, unsure of what would happen next. The three UNSC officers gave careful glances to those with weapons before looking back to Maisey herself. While she had willingly revealed the truth, any sense of trust was now out the window. They had no idea what to expect from her now.

Negotiations had more or less collapsed from the look of it all, but Shepard was undaunted. He had been in tense stand offs before, he could handle this. Though it all relied on making sure everyone got a chance to speak and for that to work, cooler heads would be needed.

"Alright, okay, we need a second here," he told everyone. "This is a lot to go over."

"She lied to us, Shepard," Haverson reminded him. "What is there to go over?"

"I said we took a cargo freighter to escape the Covenant," Maisey answered firmly. "I said we were left to die. The fact I left out who the freighter belonged to was an omission, yes. I did not lie about anything beyond that."

"Then maybe it's time to give the full story," Shepard urged. "Because at this point, I don't think you have any other options."

Maisey took a breath and waited a moment, her glare lessening. Finally, she began to speak.

"When the Covenant arrived on Apekis V, they began slaughtering in earnest, but they weren't making it quick" she said, her voice drifting back to the memories of the now glassed colony. "We had no idea why they had come or why they seemed to be taking their time with killing us all. The best idea we had was that they wanted to secure some ancient ruins located on the planet. The point is, we had time to get out, they weren't glassing everyone yet. We thought the UNSC would help, we were wrong."

"You already told us this," Haverson reminded her, sounding doubtful as he spoke. "You asked for them to send people to evacuate you and they refused."

"They did indeed," Maisey insisted once more. "What presence the UNSC did have in the system was more concerned with military assets, not us. They wanted every Marine, Soldier and whatever else they could carry off planet. The problem they faced was similar to ours, they didn't have enough transports for everyone. We had a paltry few ships at the starport, not enough for all the colonists. The Marines decided they needed them more than us. They took them to make up for their own shortage of escape craft."

Haverson still retained his disgruntled anger, but his doubt was somewhat lessened.

"If Apekis V was deemed low among defensive priorities, any Marine Garrison there would be left to fend for itself to a degree," he reluctantly confessed. "That tracks at least, still doesn't explain the miniature armory of heavy ordinance behind you."

"I'm getting to that," Maisey snarled in anger. "By the time we got to the starport with what was left of our colony, your people had made off with practically every ship. Save for one, a huge military cargo freighter, meant to transport heavy equipment and vehicles across space. It looked big enough to hold all of us, we thought they were there to save us after all. That they had decided to help us... they hadn't. They were only waiting for one last load of UNSC equipment, more tanks and such. They weren't there to save civilians."

Shepard could see Maisey's fists balling in anger at the memory. At the same time, Holland, Whitcomb and Haverson's expressions remained suspicious and doubtful as ever. Maisey continued all the same.

"The Captain of the ship refused our request to take us with him, to take any of us with him," she claimed, her voice boiling with anger. "I asked if he'd take the children at least, he refused. I offered him whatever money we had on us. He refused. I begged him, pleaded with him, I... I made offers that disgust me even now, if only he'd save my daughter! Save someone! He refused all of it! And then told his men to aim their weapons at us to force our group away from the ship! They even fired on the ground in front of us as a threat!"

"I can't believe any officer of the UNSC could be so callous," Whitcomb claimed defiantly. "Surely he could be reasoned with in time."

"He was unmovable, he was giving the convoy he was waiting on another hour and then he'd be taking off," Maisey said, her voice now practically straining in anger. "The Covenant were in the middle of glassing the planet at that point! They were determined to simply let us all die! They could've saved us and they chose not to! They chose their damn tanks over us! The people they were meant to protect!"

Shepard, who seemed to be the only one still sympathetic, asked the hard question.

"What did you do?" He asked, as solemnly as possible.

"I did nothing," she claimed. "My husband, Matias, did do something though. He gathered up members of what was left of our colonial militia and, with what weapons they had, they stormed the UNSC lines. If they wouldn't give up the freighter, they would take it. There were only a few Marines, they thought they had a chance, but the losses were still high. Near everyone who assaulted the freighter died in the attempt, including Matias, but he gutted the bastard Captain who signed our death warrants at least before he died."

Even though they had suspected it, the UNSC officers were still stunned by the admission.

"You're just admitting that outright," Haverson stated. "Your people killed Marines."

"They were killing us through inaction," Maisey countered. "When the choice is between certain death and possible survival, what other option was open to us? My husband and his men did the only thing they could do and I vowed their lives would not be wasted. We threw out most of the equipment and vehicles already stored inside the freighter and loaded it up with our own supplies, what little we had in our possession. We only kept the rations stored aboard, material we could use to build shelters and what you see here in this hangar, in case the Covenant attacked wherever we found ourselves next. We would not be helpless again, we would not be victims, not to the Covenant or to the UNSC who had left us to die."

"Regardless, ma'am," Whitcomb interjected. "You still stole UNSC equipment and killed military personnel in the process."

"My husband had the will to make the hard choice when all other avenues failed," Maisey argued defiantly. "I would've given anything to not lose him, to not remember him dead in a pool of his blood mixed with that monster of a Captain. Do you think he wanted to kill them? That I wanted those Marines dead? I pleaded for our lives and they spat back at us. We were worth nothing to them. They made their choice, we made ours. Can any of you say you wouldn't have done the same were it your family on the line?"

She pointed accusingly at all of them, rage in her eyes as she gritted her teeth.

"So you expect us to just accept that then?" Holland asked. "That those men your husband killed deserved it. I'm sure they had families too, miss."

"THEN THEIR FAMILIES SHOULD BE ASHAMED!" Maisey screamed aloud, her chest heaving in rage.

Tiegan approached her from behind and placed a hand on her shoulder. As she did the Colony leader calmed slightly. It took a full minute before she was able to look back at her friend and remove Tiegan's hand. Eventually she spoke again, her rage subsided, but only just.

"I've had to make many a tough choice since that day," she claimed stoically. "All for the sake of these people, my family. We didn't want to hurt anyone, we just wanted to live. Your Marines were an obstacle to that. It was them or us, I hate that it came to that. I hate it even more that I accepted that so quickly, but what was done was done. You all argued that abandoning Apekis V was a difficult decision, that abandoning people to die was hard to do, that you don't envy the people who make those calls. So don't you dare judge us now on what my people did in response. You chose other colonies over mine. My husband chose his family over the Marines who couldn't care less that we were all going to die. I'm not proud of it, but there it is."

Holland and Whitcomb looked contemplative, but Haverson was unwavering.

"You still hid this from us," he insisted. "You lied about all of this. Omission is still a lie. How can we even trust anything you're saying now about what happened? How do we know it's not more lies?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Maisey asked. "Admit we had stolen equipment and vehicles? That we got them by killing Marines? I lied because I knew how you would react, or at least I considered all the worst scenarios in my head."

"Like what?" Holland asked.

"Assaulting the colony, taking the weapons back by force, arresting us for treason," Maisey argued. "How was I supposed to know how you would react? The last UNSC officer I ever met pointed a gun in my face when I asked him to at least take my daughter with him. How was I supposed to gauge how you would react in the face of the truth?"

"I can understand that concern, but that doesn't change anything," Holland stated. "Haverson is right, we can't exactly trust you now either. What proof do you have that you were given no choice but to slaughter Marines? Your word? The word of your fellow Colonists who are clearly biased?"

"Colonel, sir," Shepard spoke up. "With respect, I don't think Maisey is lying now. I felt like they were holding back before, yes, but not now. I can just tell."

Shepard knew Maisey was telling the truth now, he could feel it in her anger. Her rage in this moment was earnest, pure. Her memories of that day painful and real. The eyes told him everything, how she was choking back tears to remain strong. However, Shepard also knew, that wasn't good enough.

"Commander, I'm sorry, but we can't just outright trust her word," Haverson insisted. "She's already admitted to her people killing Marines and stealing UNSC property. This is going to complicate things. For one, the whole question of autonomy is off the table now."

"Knew that would happen," Brant grumbled.

"Unless they give up the equipment at least" Haverson continued. "Not to mention, someone has to stand trial over what happened. People were killed, we can't just ignore that, even if it was a little over a decade ago or so."

"You try taking people out of this colony to serve in some kangaroo court, you will have trouble on your hands," Tiegan warned. "They will not go quietly."

Haverson chortled at the statement.

"Oh, we're making threats now, huh?" He asked.

"It's fact," Maisey corrected him. "If you try to take any of us into custody this is only going to get bloody. I'll no longer be able to guarantee your safety here. You think my people are pissed off with the UNSC now? Wait until they hear you're arresting their family members for acting out of self-defense for their lives."

"As far as we know, the only proof it was self-defense is your word," Haverson replied plainly. "Which, again, we can't trust."

Shepard got between the two groups once more.

"Now, hold on, just a second," he insisted. "I know you're angry, all of you, but we can't keep acting like this. What happened on Apekis V is in the past and we can't change it. And right now, we're not in any condition to impose any mandate on these people, we already talked about this."

"We still can't trust them, Commander," Holland reiterated.

"I know, what I'm saying is we can't act rashly out of anger here," he insisted. "None of us can. Not with potential enemies on the way."

"And that makes you friends?" Brant incredulously asked. "You're threatening to take away a means to protect ourselves, along with our people."

"Weapons you stole and people who murdered Marines," Haverson added once more.

"Enough!" Shepard said sternly. "This is not helping. Look, on the brightside, we now have some extra weapons to use to help defend this place should the need arise. I think it would be best if we used that, not fight over the morality of how it got here. I'm not defending Maisey or her people, but these facts haven't changed. Worse elements are probably already on their way to this planet and the more we bicker among ourselves, the more divided we are and the worse off we are against the real threat."

"So we just forget everything then?" Haverson asked. "Just let it go? I'm sorry, sir. We can't just do that."

"Right now, it's better to let this slide," Shepard argued. "We still have a relic to get and we are in no position to fight another war against a civilian colony. That's not practical, you all know that. Do we really want to kill each other over this stuff? Is that what you all want to do? Repeat the same events that got us here?"

The UNSC Officers and the Colony Council eyed one another. Shepard remained tense, even as he tried to keep a resolute stance. Both sides were angry and they had the right to be. Hell, Shepard himself was a little angry over being lied to himself, but this was not the time to let that anger take over. He needed them to come to an agreement on something, otherwise they'd leave on less than amicable terms. Meaning the next time they met could involve less words and more shooting. Shepard imagined, however, that neither side wanted that. As much as he could see the honest rage in Maisey's eyes, he could also see the reluctance to push this further in Haverson's. Something was gnawing at the ONI agent. It was why he wasn't being as forceful as he could be about his stance.

Maisey spoke first.

"I don't want to kill UNSC Marines," she said, her statement definitive and binding. "I don't want to repeat that day. I'd only lose more people I care about. I'm not about to let that happen."

Whitcomb and Holland looked at each other and then Haverson. The ONI agent, sensing what they had decided with their disgruntled expressions, only nodded in kind. He spoke first.

"I don't think any of us wants to start a fight with fellow humans," he said. "Even if they do hate us, we're not enemies. We're certainly not friends it seems, but we're not enemies."

"We are going to honor the commitments we made, we're going to work on establishing trust," Holland expressed. "That relic is priority, we're not police."

"And we're not here to judge either," Whitcomb confessed in turn. "Although it is hard to take you at your word, we have all made difficult choices."

"Just remember though," Haverson warned. "This isn't forgotten. None of this is over. We are going to have a long discussion at some point about this."

"I fully suspect we will," Maisey replied.

With a sense of begrudging acceptance, Maisey reluctantly shook hands with an equally reluctant Holland and then Whitcomb. Her grip was as much a vise as their stares were hard. The remaining Council members offered the same hesitant exchange of handshakes and looks. It was not a successful meeting or negotiation, but Shepard had at least avoided relations devolving into the unthinkable scenario. As the two sides departed, Shepard caught up to Haverson.

"You realize we're only agreeing to this because no one here wants to send Marines into what is likely to be a bloody, messy business at the moment," the Lieutenant claimed.

"I do," the Commander replied. "It never crossed my mind you'd be willing to let it get that far, believe me."

"I have to believe someone at this point," Haverson shrugged, still sounding furious.

"This makes things more difficult in any respect," Holland chimed in. "We're going to have to confer with the other members of the Alliance. We need to figure out a path forward after this."

That much was obvious, but Shepard's gaze was still on Haverson and how uneasy he seemed to be.

"Something wrong?" He asked the ONI agent.

"Yes, but not about the colonists," he confessed. "Just... other concerns. Thoughts I'm having about this. Nothing I can say now though, I need time to think on it. I think it would be best if we got that Spartan mission to the backup facility under way as soon as possible. The longer we delay, the longer it will take for them to get back and the longer we'll be stuck here. It's best if we resolve this mission as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Whitcomb concurred. "It might also take some of tension out of this situation."

"We can hope," Holland said. "Gather up the Spartans, we'll brief them on matters. Hopefully we'll still get a guide from the colonists."

Maybe they would, but this whole thing had thrown a wrench into the works. Shepard wasn't certain of anything now. Save for the fact that they needed to step up this operation and fast.

---

It didn't take long for the revelations about New Teteocan's secret arms stash to get around. In fact, it was one of the first topics brought up when Caleb and Rowan returned to others within the Forerunner Facility. Unlike what had happened at the hangar though, it wasn't as decidedly tense. Although, there were more than a few questions.

"So you had a tank this entire time?" Tali asked. "Plus mech suits."

"Exoskeletons," Caleb corrected. "But the difference is negligible, semantics really, so I won't begrudge you too much on that."

"To be frank, you're not really in a position to begrudge us in any case, Caleb," Halsey informed him dryly. "You did neglect to tell us about what you were hiding after all."

"I can understand if you're upset, Doctor, but in regards to our work here the armory was irrelevant," Caleb replied bluntly. "And given how your leaders reacted, save for Shepard, Maisey and Brant were proven right in their decision to keep it secret."

"I won't say anyone has the high ground here when it comes to moral judgment," Tali confessed. "But I think the issue is more that you lied than what you were lying about. Maybe if you had been straight with the UNSC directly, this could have been avoided."

At this point, Rowan, who had been off to the side looking more despondent than ever before, finally spoke up in her own defense.

"You gotta understand, guys," she insisted. "It's not that WE didn't trust you, but a lot of people here aren't sure about you. Maisey and Brant were afraid if the UNSC found out, they'd take the weapons away from us. And while the Grizzly and the Cobras aren't that much of a loss, the Cyclops mechs are really important. Maisey didn't want us to lose any defensive capabilities, she told us to keep a lid on it. If we spilled, we'd be betraying the colony, our families, our friends. We couldn't do that."

"I can understand that," Tali said sympathetically. "Believe me, I can, but I also think that if Maisey and Brant were more honest about their defensive strategy, we probably could've avoided this."

"What exactly would you need those exoskeletons for?" Taq asked, finally turning away from her work on a console. "Sorry to butt in, I'm just curious."

"They're not just for fighting, those Cyclops are great at repairs and construction," Rowan readily explained. "How else do you think we set things up around here so fast? Zara's irrigation system, the housing space for the citizens, the barricade wall, most of it is thanks to the Cyclops suits."

"Without them half the population would've easily starved to death or be sleeping on dirt patches in tents," Caleb claimed. "Not exactly an ideal situation for a colony. And as the population grows, as it inevitably will, we'll need the Cyclops suits more, to salvage what we can from the Forerunner facility and repurpose it as material for more housing. We've already used up everything from the freighter."

Tali brought up the so-called Cyclops on her omni-tool. Just as information was readily available on their universe for the Marines to examine at their leisure, Cortana had seen fit to upload some of the UNSC's own archives for study. According to the database, the exosuit was primarily used in combat for repairing damaged vehicles and structures, sometimes demolitions work. It was outfitted with weapons for self-defense only, but fighting was never the Cyclops' primary function. Their use in the field as a result was rare though, as Covenant weapons usually left little to repair. There was also an interesting tidbit regarding its history.

"These suits were a predecessor to the Spartan armor?" She asked aloud to Halsey.

"Yes, I recall as much," she replied dutifully. "They were deemed too clunky for extreme combat conditions, unsuited for what the DoD wanted. The Mjonir project replaced it, giving us the power armor we needed. The role of combat engineer turned out to be more suited for the exoskeleton, as it seems Maisey's people discovered."

That wasn't the only thing Tali saw as she scanned the entry though. Something that took her by a bit of surprise.

"Whoa, they run on nuclear energy?" She asked in shock.

"They couldn't make a fusion power source small enough to fit inside at the time," Halsey explained. "A small nuclear reactor was deemed... easier."

"Oh yeah, sure, make the thing a fucking bomb why don't you," Taq laughed from over at her console.

"The reactors don't explode," Halsey assured. "There are various safety locks and failsafes that essentially deactivate the power source in case of a catastrophic systems failure. The cores themselves are shielded. We don't want operators catching cancer now do we? I mean, the treatments would eat into their medical bills, not to mention labor time. Just too much of a hassle for most people to deal with."

"But it's still a reactor," Tali noted. "That's dangerous without the right knowledge."

"We've had a lot of time to be fast studies," Caleb explained. "But we suspect the UNSC, or more accurately the three officers speaking for them, won't see it that way."

Tali now realized the truth of the matter. Why Maisey hadn't wanted to tell the truth in the first place and why she was worried about the exosuits being taken from them. While they weren't specifically used for combat only purposes, nor were they used that often anymore, it was their power source that remained the sticking point.

"The UNSC wouldn't be happy to find out a bunch of stolen nuclear-powered exoskeletons are in the possession of a bunch of farmers who want a greater deal of independence," the quarian reasoned. "That would never sit well with them."

"We could always explain that we just need them to build houses," Rowan stated. "We don't even know how to turn the thing into a bomb, just how to keep it running properly so the suit doesn't become useless. But..."

"But that won't matter to the UNSC," Halsey said, sighing slightly. "Good faith is... in short supply. Fighting a war for close to three decades will do that to you."

Rowan just nodded meekly at the doctor's conclusion.

"Now do you get why Maisey didn't want us saying anything?" Rowan asked. "It's bad enough we stole a tank, all those exoskeletons might end up getting a big old blockade around us, and that's the best-case scenario."

"And then there's still the whole matter of taking everything residing in that hangar from dead Marines," Halsey reminded them all.

Rowan backed down, but Caleb was quick to step up, placing a hand on her shoulder to calm the young woman.

"I won't make excuses for what Matias did or how Maisey reacted in the wake of it," he stoically declared. "But at that point what was done was done. We could wallow in anguish at the blood on our hands or press on. The facts remain, if we had done nothing, before or after the shots were fired, we'd have all been dead that day. What Matias did gave us a chance to save ourselves, I won't blame Maisey for taking it or condemn her husband for his actions because of it. I'll only say what we've always accepted, it was an ugly matter of survival. Our lives or theirs. That's not pretty, but that's how it went down."

Halsey and Tali looked at one another briefly, although the quarian felt more conflicted than the good Doctor.

"Shepard and our crew have made a lot of choices," she confessed. "Not all of them have been easy and I've seen the strain it has put on everyone, Wade especially. I've made tough calls too and I know there isn't always a third option. My people know that better than most actually."

"I for one have no objection to their line of reasoning," Halsey stated firmly.

This surprised both Rowan and Caleb, although the older man seemed less taken aback than his protege. He looked more intrigued than shocked really. Rowan, however, had been expecting a different reaction.

"Y-you're not mad?" She asked sheepishly.

"I've made the same kind of calls concerning life or death myself," Halsey admitted. "While I don't like being lied to, I can understand the thought process as well as the reasoning behind what happened. Survival takes over in extreme situations, compassion is... left by the wayside more often than not."

"Perhaps you can tell that to Holland and the like," Caleb suggested.

But Halsey shook her head.

"I can make an argument in your favor, but it's not up to me," she explained. "Justified or otherwise, the burden of proof concerning Maisey's account of events is on her. Holland, Whitcomb and Haverson are in a particularly problematic situation. I can't say for sure how much they sympathize, but Marines were killed, equipment stolen and they were lied to about it. Whatever reasons there were, they simply can't just ignore the events. Some form of consequence may be required."

"Meaning taking back the weapons," Caleb reasoned.

"That is one very distinct possibility," Halsey cautioned. "There could be... worse reprisals. Not all of their own making, however, given they'll have to report this to Colonial Affairs and the UNSC High Command. And if you think Holland, Whitcomb and Haverson are cold to all of this, the Joint Chiefs will be decidedly less."

"So... how do we get out of this?" Rowan asked.

"Uh, get the defense grid back up?" Taq interjected suddenly. "You activate that they can't threaten you with jack shit. Gunboat diplomacy doesn't work when the shoreline has a bigger gun. At that point you don't even need a small army of exosuits to protect you."

"Assuming we can get the grid working again," Caleb noted. "Or if the UNSC will even want us to."

It was then Tali had an idea. A possible solution she should've honestly thought of earlier.

"What if we replaced the power source in the exoskeletons?" She asked them. "You're already drawing power from the Forerunner Facility to run the colony. Why not replace the reactors in the suits with something not nearly as volatile or in need of regulation?"

"Yeah!" Rowan said, finally brightening up. "Yeah that could totally work!"

"It would remove one of the concerns," Halsey agreed, but a sense of caution prevailed in her tone. "But that won't necessarily change things in and of itself. There's still the matter of the equipment being stolen. It might be justified to you, but unless you convince Holland, Whitcomb and Haverson that such is the case, that will be all they need to press forward with potential charges."

"They'd arrest Maisey!" Rowan shouted aloud, frightened at the very prospect.

"Not directly of course, they'll report the theft to High Command and they'll determine what action to take," Halsey stated. "Maybe it's not worth pursuing now, maybe it is. I can't say for sure. War makes the process of law rather... complicated."

From over at her console, Taq exhaled loudly.

"Okay, so it sounds like there is very little anyone here can do about anything," she exclaimed. "Can we please get back to the mission at hand now?"

The assembly of minds all turned to the kig-yar now, recognizing how clearly she was done hearing about all of this. It wasn't as if they were surprised, she was rather aloof concerning the news from the start. Taq's expression, however, revealed the extent of how little she cared about any of this.

"You don't have anything to add to all of this?" Caleb asked.

"Does quibbling over moral conundrums get me my relic and your defense grid back up faster?" The kig-yar asked.

The group all looked at each other, with Rowan eventually voicing the obvious answer.

"Not really," she said. "So... you don't care that we lied?"

"Kig-yar lie all the time, it's no big deal unless it's personal and none of this is personal," Taq replied plainly. "I have ancient aliens to outsmart, a super old laboratory to crack and a priceless artifact of who knows what kind of immensely insane power to retrieve. I only need to know two things right now, are we sending the Spartans to the backup facility? And can anyone help me start deciphering more of these encrypted transcripts?"

Taq at least never lost focus on her work, even she was rather blunt about her intentions as to why. Rowan at least looked relieved.

"Well, at least we're still friends then," she declared happily. "Thanks for being understanding, Taq. And I promise the rest of you, I'll earn back whatever trust got lost today. Alright, back to work."

Rowan headed back to one of the work stations, Caleb staying behind.

"Taq is right, if we get the defense grid working all of this might become moot," he surmised. "Or at least, it won't matter as much. The village will be protected, you'll have the relic and maybe we can work out a compromise from there with Holland and the others."

"Then I suggest we follow Rowan's lead and try to work faster," Halsey suggested.

Tali wasn't against that plan, it did seem the most expedient of solutions. That was the engineer in her talking though. The quarian in her said differently though. It said these people were in a bad spot and they needed some help to get through it. She felt their plight, their anger and she desperately felt the need to do something than fix their little security system. The question, what could she possibly do to resolve something as problematic as all of this?

---

Haverson was still livid, withdrawing to a small tent set up at base camp to house him. Holland and Whitcomb had returned to the ship to discuss things further. Shepard had of course remained behind and was currently trying to talk things out with Elias directly. The Lieutenant was still too angry with the day's events, however, to really listen to much. Something Shepard soon picked up on.

"I know you're upset, but we need to consider the mission," the Commander insisted. "The Relic is still a priority here."

"That hasn't changed," Haverson said, finally managing to say something beyond just grimacing into a corner. "Everything else has though."

"I don't expect you to just leave this be, Lieutenant, but we're hardly in a position to judge," Shepard reminded him. "We both agreed to the Alliance with the Jackals and Batarians. It was not something that everyone agreed with and it led to the Silva's mutiny. I don't regret that decision, but the consequences remain. Consequences that got people killed."

"I can see the similarity, sir, but the difference is Silva was breaking with protocol," Haverson argued. "I can't claim my hands are clean of human blood in any case, but that's not the point. When I get back to Earth, assuming any of us do of course, I'm going to have to answer for my decision-making. Holland will too, we both accepted that. Maisey's people's claim of self-defense has yet to be challenged in court and still hasn't. What consequences has she paid?"

"Loss of her home, her husband, her friends," Shepard simply listed, not in a sardonic manner, just direct. "I feel like that might be enough for her and everyone."

Haverson sighed and got up from his desk.

"Shepard, I'm nothing if not sympathetic to what Maisey's people have endured, what the colony of New Teteocan has suffered," he claimed. "But facts are facts, they killed Marines and stole military equipment. The only proof so far that any of those actions were self-defense or that Maisey herself did not participate in the crime are her words. And they're already pretty damning words."

"There's not much evidence to prove her wrong either," Shepard countered. "Apekis V is glassed and in Covenant territory. Whatever proof of what happened there died over a decade ago."

"True, the sword cuts both ways, but an inquiry is still required," Haverson insisted. "If a UNSC Officer committed an act as vile as Maisey claims, then an investigation must be conducted to as full an extent as possible. And said stolen equipment must be returned to the UNSC itself in any case."

"Would that include the Cargo Freighter?" Shepard asked curiously. "Because if I'm right, most of that village is made up of the ships' cannibalized husk, as it were."

Haverson shook his head suddenly before sighing once more.

"Look, I don't want to make life hard for them, any of them, believe it or not, but a lot of this isn't up to me," he insisted. "This is my career, sir. My job, my life. I cannot in good conscience just ignore a confession on the scale Maisey gave to me just now. Good or bad, the families of those dead Marines deserve the truth, don't they?"

"In my experience, sometimes the truth is better off buried," Shepard replied, a contemplative expression taking over his face. "When it can hurt people worse than simply never knowing, when it can ruin lives beyond just a few. It's a trolley problem, I guess, but at some point, some things are better left dead. Otherwise, we might as well track down the real parents of the Spartans out there and tell them their sons and daughters didn't die when they thought they did."

For his part, Haverson didn't argue that point, in fact he nodded a bit.

"I suppose you have a point," he confessed. "Not everything is worth digging up. That doesn't change things though. I have to report back on this and I can't just let them keep UNSC weapons they heisted. Their chances of getting a fair hearing and a shot at proper independence like they want was difficult before. As long as they have those tanks and those exosuits, it's not a chance. It's not even remote. Its zero. All it does is prove a sense of bad faith and possible threat to the UNSC. And if I don't report on it and someone finds out, someone slips up and reveals the whole damn sorted business, I'm fucked along with them and whatever chance I have at helping them is gone. Holland and Whitcomb are probably saying the same things."

Shepard could see his point and it wasn't unreasonable. The Commander, however, could only think of how hard it was for Colonies in the Traverse back home. How left behind some of them felt by the Alliance. He honestly couldn't blame them. There were so many people they needed to protect and he couldn't save everyone. There were times when he felt useless. So to hear about people who had the ability to help and refused more than enraged him a little, especially considering what it led to. He could see both sides here and he wanted to help them both.

"There has to be a compromise, a way out," Shepard insisted. "The defense grid, if we get it working again..."

"Then they have an even bigger stick," Haverson stated bluntly. "That won't sit well with anyone back home."

"So you'd want them to be utterly defenseless?" Shepard asked curiously. "No exosuits, no tanks, nothing to take on enemy ships?"

Haverson grabbed his hair and began feverishly scratching through it with both hands.

"I don't know, sir, okay?" He admitted. "I don't know! I can only answer what I think Command will respond to. What I know, without a doubt, ONI will do. And it will not be pretty, sir, none of it will be. And I don't want that, I really don't. The last thing I want my actions to lead to are a UNSC fleet floating overhead with guns trained on what has been labeled an Insurrectionist colony. Or ONI agents pulling some goddamn Black Bag OP to take care of the whole thing quietly and just make most of the colony disappear. I don't want that, Shepard, but it will happen. There is only so much I can do to stop that as a lieutenant and if I'm discredited, I can't even do that."

"So what is your best-case scenario then?" Shepard asked earnestly.

"At this point, they give up everything they stole, we turn half the Defense Grid back on, maybe just a shield and a few more guns," Haverson claimed, still thinking and strategizing even as he spoke. "And... and Maisey goes back to face trial after formal charges are laid. Possibly with a few of her cohorts. The colony is re-absorbed as an outpost of the UNSC. I... I guess everyone else is relocated to refugee camps."

"That's the best-case scenario?" Shepard asked once more, not entirely convinced.

"It's the one where everyone lives, sir, I'm sorry," Haverson said, sounding exasperated. "I don't like this, but I don't see another way out. And that is only if we play this really, REALLY carefully. Because otherwise, everyone in that settlement is either going to prison or left here in pieces and either is not ideal."

Haverson took a breath, moving back to lean over his makeshift desk.

"I don't see any other option, Commander, if there was, I'd take it," he insisted. "But if we don't play this right, people will die. Our best chance at preventing that is to convince Maisey of that."

"She's not going to surrender herself to custody to serve in what she probably thinks is going to be a kangaroo court," Shepard warned. "And she's not going to agree to have her colony broken up into pieces either. Would you?"

"I'd think if I cared enough about my people as she claims to, I'd do whatever it took to make sure they didn't die," Haverson declared firmly. "Even if it meant breaking up the family, at least they'd survive. And wouldn't be a show trial, it would be fair, I'd... I'd make sure of it... somehow."

He said as much, but that part was as unsure as anything else Haverson had said. For what it was worth though, Shepard could tell the Lieutenant was agonizing over this. He didn't know what the right call was. He didn't know what to do or what was the best option to take. If anyone knew what that was like it was Shepard himself. He had been in this situation more than once.

"If I can find another way, will you consider it?" Shepard questioned the Lieutenant. "Will you get Holland and Whitcomb to consider it? That's all I ask."

"I'd be happy to, sir," Haverson assured him. "I really would."

Shepard nodded in agreement.

"We still need to get the relic either way," he reminded him. "That means the backup facility, a guide to get there and the Spartans."

"Yeah, yeah," Haverson agreed. "Try... talking it out with Maisey. I, uh, I don't think she'll want to see us again for a little while."

Shepard just nodded. It was probably for the best.

"I should go," he said.

As he turned to leave though, Haverson called out to him.

"Sir," he said. "I don't like this, I really don't. I just... I honestly don't think I have a choice here."

"Maisey probably felt the same back on Apekis V," Shepard reminded him, not scornfully, but in empathetic manner.

The Commander left at that moment, leaving Haverson to contemplate. Not only about how they were going to get out of this, but at the other remaining mystery. Someone else had uncovered New Teteocan's secret stash. As a result, this whole can of worms had opened wide and that had now left them all in a tenuous position. On one hand, it was probably good he had found out the truth. On the other, it made things all the more complicated.

Who could benefit from any of this chaos? Haverson had a feeling he knew who was responsible. Everything seemed to point to it as the only plausible theory. And for that reason, he liked all of this even less.

---

The Village Council did not have a stately manor or gilded tower to sit in. They barely even had an office. Like everyone else they just had homes, no bigger or smaller than anyone else's given the amount of materials that had been on hand. Maisey's home was humble, with only a few mementos of her former life scattered about or hanging up. Hers and Asha's bedroom was in the next room and there was a small sitting area to relax in.

There was no relaxing going on here though, no refuge from the problems of the day. Maisey always carried her work home with her and this was no different. The anguish and dread were the worst they had been in years though. Asha wasn't helping, what with her usual anger.

"This is bullshit, mom! Absolute bullshit!"

"You're not telling me anything I didn't already scream myself," Maisey groaned, her head still between her hands. "But what else was I going to do? They found the hangar, if I lied further it was only going to make it worse."

"I knew they were going to fuck us," Asha repeated. "I just fucking knew. Now those fascists are gonna take everything from us! First the exosuits, then the weapons, then you because of what dad did! Did you tell them you didn't kill any Marines?"

"Of course I did," Maisey insisted. "But it's my word against dead men who can't speak for themselves. And my word isn't exactly trustworthy when I withheld the truth now is it?"

Asha snarled in anger stomping over to a window, her eyes glared in the direction of the UNSC camp near the fields.

"Goddamn it, we can't let them do this," she said, her voice simmering with rage. "First they leave us to die, then they take dad, now they're gonna crush us under their fucking boot all over again. And why? Because we didn't lay down and die when they asked?"

"Asha, you need to calm down," Maisey tried to tell her daughter. "This isn't going to help anyone now."

"But we need to stop them, mom! That fucker Haverson sounds like he's gonna drag you off to Earth! They'll put on a fucking show trial and string you up as an example!" Asha said, her tone changing from rage to panic. "We have to fight this! We have to do something!"

"Like what, kick them off the lawn?" Maisey asked. "They'll come back in force."

"Then we think smarter than them," Asha insisted, her mind racing as she spoke. "The exoskeletons and the guns are the biggest issue, right? If they're gone, that lessens the problem, right? So... we fake an accident! Yeah, we fake an accident!"

Maisey's brow perched suddenly.

"An accident?" She asked.

"We rig something to explode, one of the Cyclops suits that we can afford to lose," Asha said, speaking a mile a minute. "We move everything out of the hangar when they aren't looking, stuff a bunch of scrap metal and shit in there and then we detonate it. Boom! It looks like it all went up in fucking flames! The exoskeletons have nuclear reactors, right? We just say one of them melted down and that they're all gone, no stolen weapons, no problem. They leave and forget it."

"They'd never buy it," Maisey dismissed, shaking her head. "Haverson isn't an idiot, he'd scan the jungle from orbit for signs of the other suits. We'd never be able to shield them. We can't trick our way out of this, Asha. We have to face it directly. "

"How? What's the plan?" Asha pleaded. "And don't say it's you going to some damn show trial on Earth to get executed by firing squad. That's not a fucking plan!"

Maisey got up and moved over to her daughter, hushing her in an attempt to calm her down.

"That's not happening, I'm not going anywhere," she assured her. "I'm going to figure something out with the others. If it means giving up the tanks, fine. Some or all the Cyclops suits, fine. But we will find a path to at least let us stay together. If we can somehow get the defense grid up, maybe we can still get out of this. But I promise, I will not leave you alone. I swear it."

Asha hugged her mother, burying her face into her shoulder.

"This isn't fair, you saved us," she sobbed. "We were all going to die and you saved us. And now they're going to punish you for it. Haven't they done enough?"

Maisey just hugged her daughter back and kept trying to comfort her.

"It's alright, we'll figure this out," she continued to insist. "We didn't roll over and die before, we won't do it now."

She wished she could say something more reassuring. She wished she could tell her daughter she had a more detailed plan beyond trying to hash out a new deal. She had nothing though. She had wanted to hold off revealing the weapons in the hangar until the last possible moment. If it came down to it, and they needed to fend off the Covenant or whoever was after the UNSC, they could've broken out Brant's emergency plan. They'd storm the field with the Exoskeletons and tanks, take out all hostiles and show the UNSC how truly independent they were. At that point the assorted cast of Marines, soldiers and space pirates would realize that regardless of where the weapons had come from, they had been lucky to have them on hand to begin with. Maybe that could still work, but the bad taste of the how those weapons had been acquired was going to linger around for a good while. Perhaps long enough that Haverson, Holland and Whitcomb would still demand the weapons be turned back over to them.

Even if they didn't, it still wouldn't guarantee they wouldn't just start arresting people for whatever eventual charge was laid at their feet. Oh true, it would be difficult to really pinpoint someone to actually charge with anything. There was no one left from Matias' militia group. Anyone directly responsible for the deaths of those Marines was more or less dead now. That likely meant, however, the blame would transfer to her. She was the spouse of the chief instigator and there was no evidence beyond her own words to absolve her of a crime. There didn't seem to be a way out of this, only a way to delay at best. She was now starting to wonder if she could even keep her promise to her daughter.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Followed soon after by a voice.

"Maisey, it's Brant," it said. "I, uh, I got someone here who wants to talk to you."

Asha and Maisey separated, confusion taking over from their anxiety and sorrow. Who could Brant have brought with him? Haverson maybe? Had he come to apologize or make demands? Shepard? Maybe he wanted to extend an olive branch or express sympathy. Only one way to find out.

"Enter," Maisey called.

The door opened and Brant entered, glaring at his side as a shorter, stouter creature followed suit. It was the Jackal, the one called Zek Maisey believed given his scoped eyepiece and recognizable quills He was the last face she expected to see, but he was no more welcome than Haverson would be.

"Cozy digs, ma'am," Zek greeted. "Everyone's cabins seem to be better than my own. I am really ashamed of my lack of decor skills."

"What do you want?" Maisey demanded, glaring at the alien.

"To talk," he explained. "I understand you have a problem with the not-so-glorious UNSC. I wish to extend a talon of assistance in that matter."

Maisey's glare intensified and she looked over to Asha.

"He's a Jackal, I wouldn't trust him, mom," she warned. "Especially since he's buddies with that shithead Haverson."

Zek just laughed uproarious.

"Oh, oh no, my dear, please," he chuckled. "He would find the idea that we're buddies most insulting. I find it hilarious, because I think you're the only ones here who hate his guts even more than I do. That fucker has been a pain in the ass since forever. If I get to stick one to him, hey, all the better I say."

Asha still looked skeptical, but Maisey could only sigh.

"What do we have to lose," she confessed. "Stay outside with Brant, keep close. If something happens... well, you know what to do."

"I already checked," Brant assured. "He's unarmed. He even insisted on a very... extreme search."

"I have a lot of orifices," Zek grinned. "I just wanted to you to be aware."

Brant shuddered, as did Asha.

"Be careful, mom," she warned again. "He's shifty looking."

"Don't worry, I've faced shiftier," she assured her. "We'll hash this out quickly."

With that, Asha and Brant exited the house, but they stayed close outside the door. Zek, for his part, scampered over to a nearby chair and took a seat in it. Maisey grimaced in annoyance as she pulled up a footstool to sit across from him.

"So you want to help," she began. "What do you mean by help?"

"Help to protect New Teteocan, what else?" Zek replied simply. "Defense grid reboot or no, I can tell you don't want to let go of those weapons. Well, I don't think the UNSC should be allowed to just take them back. You stole them fair and square. They should just accept that."

"What are you going to do?" Maisey asked, not sounding at all convinced. "Stand between them and us when they come to take them? Cause I don't see that happening."

Zek shrugged.

"Heh, I have some pull but not that much," he told her. "Shepard is likely in your corner to a degree, but he's a bit of a compromiser. I'm offering a better path forward. Namely, if the UNSC comes to take your guns... I'll give you better ones."

Maisey stifled a laugh, her disbelief rising.

"I highly doubt you can do better than a Grizzly and Cyclops Exoskeletons," she informed him. "Unless you have one of those giant walking bug robots I heard about back in the day, what could you possibly have that could replace them?"

"You'd be right, I don't have a super tank or cool robot suits," Zek confessed. "But I have Covenant weapons. More than a few in fact. Wraiths, Ghosts, a few Banshees, quite a bunch of tech under my discretion. If I want to hand some of it off, the UNSC can't stop me."

Maisey wasn't sure if the bird was lying, but something still felt off.

"I'm expected to believe you have all that stashed somewhere?" She asked.

"We hijacked a Covenant Carrier," Zek explained. "It's loaded with stuff meant to invade whole planets. I can spare a few little extra pieces of heavy ordinance and not have it dent my bottom line. One good example..."

He pulled up his arm and activated some kind of computer device attached to it. A holographic image of an alien rifle appeared between them now. A sleek, pointed, deadly looking weapon that looked like a little like an elongated Jackal skull. Some wording beneath it entitled it the Type-50 Sniper Rifle System. The hologram soon went through an animation cycle, showing off how it fired a long-range beam of plasma that cut down enemies with ease.

"The Particle Beam Rifle is a deadly hand held weapon," Zek stated plainly. "Can reduce an enemy's skull to molten slag at a thousand paces or so. Can take down even the toughest of shields in a single shot. Hell of a lot deadlier than some of those museum pieces your guards are lugging around. That would give an edge over anyone who dares try to tread on you. And before you ask, I can also give you the means to recharge them."

Maisey had to admit, it did look impressive.

"Wouldn't we need some training to make them truly effective?" She asked.

"You also needed training on those exoskeletons I wager," Zek reminded her. "A gun can't be that much harder to figure out, but a few of my people can give you some pointers. Same with a Ghost or a Wraith. If you can pilot any human piece of junk, our gear should be a snap. Just a language barrier to get past really and, honestly, you can probably alter those settings if you like."

It all sounded far too good to be true and far too convenient that he'd have this all squared away and set up. It hadn't been that long since the cat had broken out of the bag after all. Yet he had this whole presentation ready?

"This all seems rather sudden, Jackal," she said.

"Zek," he corrected.

"Zek," she sneered back. "You've put a lot of thought into this little... sales pitch. You give us guns to tweak Haverson's nose, just out of the goodness of your heart? Just when I need some kind of ally in the camp of the UNSC bastards who are threatening everything?"

Zek simply shrugged, as if he was waiting for what came next. Maisey leaned over to him.

"Haverson was prepared to play nice until something shifted in the meeting," she claimed. "How do I know you didn't set something up. That the reason I'm even in this position to begin with isn't because of you?"

Zek merely grinned, but he admitted nothing. Well, nothing directly anyway

"You're far too intelligent for me to bother trying to lie so brazenly," he confessed. "Try to understand, I'm on thin ice with Haverson already. And even if what you're saying is true, you can't fault me for finding something fishy with your little village and pursuing it. Trust me, Haverson probably had the same idea. This would've happened eventually. The guy is a nosy little shit like that."

That much Maisey could believe, she let the Jackal continue.

"The fact of the matter is though, that whether or not I'm responsible for leaking the secret, I'm not the one who is making a big stink about it," Zek amicably claimed. "Haverson, Holland, Whitcomb, they're pitching a fit. I'm admiring your strength of will and cunning by contrast. In all honesty, I approve of what you did, what your husband did. Your people's survival in the face of adversity, the willingness to strike out in search of freedom over subjugation and death, should be applauded. You, Madame Maisey, you saw an opportunity to benefit the people you cared for most and took it. You should be commended for your leadership, any kig-yar would call you a hero. It's the UNSC, your own people, who act like you're some common criminal, but I know better."

"You do?" Maisey asked, still looking skeptical.

"Yes, think about it," Zek said, sitting up right to look directly at the village leader. "You and your people took a government vessel. A spaceship, designated as a naval craft by your own government for all intents and purposes. A government that did not give you permission to steal said spaceship, along with all the items in question aboard the vessel. And then you sailed out into unknown, uncharted, untamed space, outside the jurisdiction of the UNSC and the Covenant Empire. You... hijacked... a space ship. You know what that makes you?"

Maisey didn't answer, just glaring at the alien bird with a steadily increasing sneer.

"A space pirate," Zek answered for her with glee. "You're a space pirate, ma'am. That means we have something in common. And while our end goals might differ, we do want the same thing, independence, freedom. That's why I feel I understand you and certainly respect you more than most other humans I've met."

Whatever point Zek was trying to make was becoming lost on Maisey. He sounded sympathetic, he sounded like he cared, but he was still a Jackal. A pirate in fact, as he had admitted. That meant only one thing, this was not charity.

"What do you want?" She demanded to know.

"Didn't I explain be-"

"No, what do you want?" She demanded once more. "You're not just going to give me these guns, weapons and whatever else it is you're offering. You want something, so just spit it out already."

Zek nodded dutifully.

"As I said, you're too smart," he confessed. "Yes, there has to be an... equal exchange for this transaction to count. Otherwise I'm getting nothing for giving away this stuff and that's just... not good business. But hey, it is a way better offer than what the UNSC will give you, that I'm sure."

"What. Do you. Want?" Maisey asked again, gritting her teeth.

Zek took a breath. Here it was, she thought, some terrible price to pay to save her people. Money, one of the exoskeletons, the tanks, first dibs on something inside the Forerunner Facility that they knew about but the UNSC didn't, an alliance to take over the carrier for themselves, safe harbor in the future for his gang of criminals, one first born son from all the families here, it was going to be something like that.

Well fuck him, Maisey thought, he wasn't going to get any of that. Not a fucking cent, she wasn't going to be bullied into selling her soul by a fucking alien who thought he was smarter than her and probably got her into this position to begin with. She'd hear him out, then sell him out to Haverson. Yeah, that's how she'd get out of this. She'd find the traitor in their midst and that would convince Haverson to back the fuck off and-

"I want about a quarter or so of an acre of your sugar cane," Zek explained. "Whatever you can spare really. The quantity is negotiable."

Maisey sat there dumbfounded. Sugar cane, he wanted some of the sugar cane? Not even all of it, just some of it. This space pirate was asking her for, essentially, a cup of sugar.

"You... you want the sugar," she said at last, her confusion growing.

"Yeah, pretty much," he confessed. "Just enough stalks to make our own crop sustainable really. You seem to have a surplus."

This had to be a joke, something to lighten the mood and put her into a false sense of security.

"You're... you're not serious," she questioned. "This... you don't... you don't actually want the sugar cane, do you?"

"No, no, that's pretty much all I'm asking for," Zek answered plainly. "I just want enough sugar cane to make my own crop."

"Sugar, you did... you did all this, for sugar?" Maisey questioned again.

"I'm not at liberty to say what I did, but yes, I would like the sugar," Zek replied once more.

"That's... that makes no..." Maisey was trying to find the words but she was absolutely flabbergasted. This had been the last thing she has expected. "Why would a Jackal want... sugar? Of all things... sugar?"

Zek just nodded and at that point Maisey realized this wasn't a joke.

"Sugar cane, I'm talking to an alien space vulture pirate who wants my sugar cane and is offering me fucking plasma sniper rifles," Maisey reiterated, scarcely believing the words herself. "That is the dumbest, most ridiculous form of transaction... why sugar? Of all things, why the hell do you want sugar?"

"To be honest, my people have an... interesting reaction to it," Zek informed her. "I wish to make a business venture out of it by selling it to them. I just need a means to start my crop and, well, I lucked out finding you."

Maisey rubbed her temples in a mix of anger, frustration, befuddlement and maybe a little relief. It wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it would be after all. They could give up some sugar and just regrow it. They had a massive overstock of the stuff by now. It took really well to the soil here, according to Zara. Processing it had been the only really hard part. So selling some to these Jackals wouldn't exactly be a problem. However, she wasn't sure it would solve all their problems.

"Regardless of what you give us in exchange for this... sugar," she informed Zek, trying to keep a straight face. "It still won't stop the UNSC from potentially fucking us over."

"Hmm, no," Zek shrugged. "But trust me, it will piss off Haverson some. Which means he'll direct some of his ire back to me, instead of you, once he figures out what I'm doing. And no one can really blame you for making chums with us after what they threatened to do. That will undermine his position and that of the UNSC. More importantly, it gives you a back up plan if worst comes to worst. You might lose the UNSC weapons, but at least you're not defenseless. Isn't that better than nothing?"

Maisey still wasn't sure. She couldn't expect any guarantees, especially not from a Jackal, but there was a lot riding on this. Some alien weapons for a few kilos of sugar didn't sound like a bad deal at all. Her primary concern though was making sure her people were safe. That hadn't changed, even with an ally among the visitors who was probably no more than fairweather at best in terms of reliability.

"I need to know my people will not be hurt by any of this," she insisted. "I need to know that this isn't just some sleezy backroom deal so you can get some damn sugar. I need commitment."

"If you ask my Ex, she'd tell you I'm terrible at that," Zek said, scratching the back of his head and chuckling nervously.

"Not that kind," Maisey snarled, rather annoyed. "I need to know you're going to be on my side. That you use whatever pull you have to get the UNSC to pack up and go when all is said and done. That they leave and never darken our doors again."

Zek held the lower half of his beak, thinking deeply on the counter-offer.

"Again, I'm sympathetic, but I can only do so much," Zek insisted. "As I understand it, getting that grid up is really your best bet. We do have a sorta functioning democracy aboard, we all have a certain degree of pull in what decisions are made..."

"I just need a show of support," Maisey requested. "You said it yourself, undermine their position of authority? Well you can do that by arguing in our favor where you can and telling me what the UNSC is planning for my colony. Way I figure, you owe me that much."

Strangely enough, Zek didn't seem angered. Even though it was obvious what she was implying, as she had done so before, he only seemed to grin. It was unsettling for a moment, but Maisey something else. It was a form of acceptance. Turnabout was fair play and all that. Which suited him just fine. Good, it was more or less confirmed by now that he had played a small role in creating this mess. Now he'd help her clean it up by playing spy for them instead.

"It's a hard bargain, but it seems more than fair," Zek confessed. "I'll be your little birdy on the inside, keep you posted on the UNSC's designs. That way, you can plan accordingly. And while I can't promise anything beyond what I've currently offered, I'll do what I can to persuade them against anything you'd find disagreeable. Although you already have Shepard in your camp a bit in that regard, that's your first bit of intel that I can give you. So you're not completely without friends."

"Whatever helps to get my people out of this," Maisey said, extending her hand. "You'll get your sugar. All I want is this colony safe."

Zek took her hand, but would feel Maisey's tight grip as he did.

"These weapons of yours better be up to par. If you fuck me over, Jackal," she warned gravely. "Don't expect the UNSC to save you."

"Madame, I never do," Zek said, not even tightening his own grip, but placing a second hand over Maisey's. "Why would I ever choose them over a fellow space pirate?"

Maisey wasn't comfortable being called that, but she could tell he meant it. There was no love lost for the UNSC here, they both had their beefs. The question was how much loyalty that bought.

"We'll see," she said, as their hands separated. "I'll talk to Zara about what amount of sugar cane she's willing to part with. We can discuss further details on the transaction later, specifically the location."

"I'll leave you with something to contact me," Zek said digging into a pocket and pulling out what appeared to be a transmission device. He passed it over to her. "It's hooked up to my omni-tool. Two-way communications, should make things easier to keep from Haverson catching wind of things for now."

Maisey eyed the device, similar to some kind of palm pilot or walkie talkie. It would be good enough. That didn't ease her concerns though and Zek's cavalier attitude was a potential problem in itself. It was of course better to have an ally, albeit a duplicitous self-serving one, than no one in your corner at all at this juncture. She was still uneasy about it. If something went wrong, things could get messy.

"You realize you're playing a very dangerous game right now," she cautioned the alien. "And all for some damn sugar."

"For a kig-yar, the game is always dangerous," Zek assured with a sinister grin. "Wouldn't be fun without the risk."

---

When Shepard explained the situation to them, the Master Chief was at least a little relieved. Before, all they believed they had to defend this place were small arms and the warthogs. Knowing there was some actual heavy equipment groundside already at least meant they had better chances. Especially with a Grizzly, he had read up on those things. The big daddy of all Scorpion tanks, armed to the teeth and constructed to deliver a payload of pain to anyone dumb enough to take it on.

He was less enthusiastic about the how and why of its being here. That did not sit so well with him. It wasn't so much that he didn't understand, he understood perfectly. Maisey's people probably did the only thing they believed they could to survive. He experienced that mentality first hand after all. It was just hard to reconcile that fact with the killing of Marines. The lies of omission did not help either.

"This certainly changes a few things," he finally expressed to the Commander.

"It does," Shepard confessed. "But not in regards to the relic at least. We still need it and getting to that backup server is still our best hope of doing just that. Unless we wanna stay here for a few more years of course."

"That is definitely off the table," Kat agreed. "We cannot stay here forever. Not when we're barely welcome as it is."

Chief knew they were right, getting the relic off planet remained top priority. The problem was the situation around that objective had suddenly become more complicated. Getting through a bunch of locked doors quickly would be helpful, but it wouldn't resolve the fact that this colony had stolen UNSC equipment. And there was another problem added on top of that.

"The trek to this facility will still take a long time," he reminded them. "Who knows how long it will take to fix things there. Then it takes just as long getting back here."

"And all the while, we're undermanned," Shepard acknowledged. "But we can handle things here until you're back. The sooner you leave, the faster it will be done."

"Meanwhile you're left alone with the colonists who just got outed for stealing UNSC weapons," Jun grimly added. "They're on edge already and now they're probably thinking they might all be headed to jail soon. Not a good recipe for things if some certain space pirates show up."

"I know," Shepard once more acknowledged. "Believe me, it's not ideal, but I will handle that. You just need to worry about getting us to the relic. Leave all the messy politics to me."

He had never been one for politics and was more than fine with letting Shepard have them, but the mess still worried the Master Chief. Not that Shepard's people couldn't put a good defense if things came down to it, but he hated the idea of being away from his friends and unable to help if things went wrong. He went through that once already at Reach. He supposed the one caveat here was that he wasn't going to be nearly as far away. Still far enough that it made him uncomfortable though.

"I guess us being gone would put the colonists a bit more at ease," Linda suggested. "A bunch of super soldiers at their doorstep is disconcerting."

"We'll also have that guide with us though," Fred reminded them. "What if they get anxious about his status?"

"That's why regular check-ins will be crucial," Shepard explained. "Status reports on your progress and all that. It should keep them at ease."

"Then it sounds to me like our best option is to double time it as fast as possible," Kelly insisted. "We get to this offsite place, we help shut down the locks back here and we rush on back. The sooner we're done the better and someone with knowledge of the lay of the land will speed that process up."

"That's more or less the plan," Shepard confirmed.

Chief just nodded. There was no getting around it, as much as he hated the idea of heading off into the jungle and leaving Shepard's team do all the heavy lifting, arguing about it would get them nowhere. They needed the relic. This was the best means to get it. The truth about the Colony didn't change that.

"Alright," he agreed. "When do we leave?"

"More or less now I think," Anton said, motioning over to the right.

Approaching them were Brant, Tali and one other man the Master Chief couldn't place. However, given he was wearing armor similar to Brant's, as well as sporting a rifle, poncho and some kind of Boonie hat, he imagined the new face was their guide. At least he looked like he had been in the brush more times than most. They were getting a professional at least. Whatever else the Colonists were, Chief could tell they weren't about to short shift them. Perhaps that was more out of spite though, a way to prove they were better than the UNSC. Basically telling them all that, "We at least follow through on our promises."

Tali got to Chief first, handing him Cortana's chip. He thanked the quarian and placed the AI back into his neural interface. Cortana quickly piped up into his ear.

"Good news, if this offsite facility's systems are anything like that crazy temple lab we should be fine," she claimed. "At this point, I'm familiar enough with their programming tricks to breeze through them."

"I'll hold you to that statement," Chief cautioned her.

Brant approached next with the new guy by his side.

"Commander Shepard, Spartans," he began. "This is Efren, he's our lead hunting scout. Best tracker we have. He'll keep you from wandering into the paths of anything that might want to bite you out there. More importantly, he's been deep in the jungle before. He knows how to navigate it quickly."

"Did you tell him where they're going?" Shepard asked.

"Of course, briefed him on the coordinates myself," Brant assured them all. "He's already mapped out a path to take."

"I can get us there within a day," Efren claimed most assuredly. "Depends on how well your friends here can keep up."

"We're Spartans," Chief informed him. "We can keep up."

Efren nodded, but didn't seem impressed. To be fair, it was unlikely he had ever seen a Spartan in action before. No matter, they'd prove it wasn't just bluff in the field. Not that they had to of course, but Chief didn't like people doubting his team regardless.

"I want to make one thing clear," Brant butted in. "The only reason I'm still inclined to agree with this whole thing, is because Maisey said it's the fastest way to get rid of all of you. I'm not exactly comfortable letting you all just wander around the jungle at random. So I expect those check-ins at regular intervals. And Efren comes back without a scratch. Understand?"

"Nothing will happen to your man, sir," Shepard promised. "The Master Chief and his Spartans will make sure of that. All this is about is getting the doors inside the Forerunner facility unlocked, remember? No lockdown means we get our relic, and if Taq is right, your defense grid gets rebooted."

"Forgive me if I don't hold much sway in the promises of the UNSC right now," Brant growled. "I'll believe your intentions when I see them first hand."

"To be honest, that's probably a wise strategy," Kat spoke up.

"He's still a bit of an ass though," Jun whispered, although it was fairly audible.

Brant could clearly hear Jun's comment, but he just snorted at it. He looked at the Master Chief directly.

"I've heard enough about Spartans to know you're capable," he told the Chief. "So I don't doubt the UNSC is sending their best on this. I know they are."

"The confidence is appreciated, sir," Chief replied stoically.

"I have confidence that you're good soldiers," Brant elaborated. "We'll see if that translates to other areas in time. Just know this, I'm not interested in excuses or apologies for what happened in the past. I'm not going to pretend I'm proud of what we did to survive, but that's the nature of survival. If you don't trust us, fine. Right now though, we're placing a great deal more trust in you than many of us are comfortable with. We're trusting you to help us and that backfired once before. Do we understand each other?"

Chief simply nodded in response.

"Rest assured, we'll get the lockdown removed," he promised.

"And we will get the grid up," Tali added.

"Then I look forward to you all proving me wrong, for once," Brant declared, before looking to his fellow colonist. "Efren, good luck. And... same to all of you, Spartans."

Brant left it there leaving them for his other duties.

"Well, he got to say his piece," said Fred with a slight shrug. "At least it's out of his system."

"It wasn't nearly as confrontational as I thought it would be," Kelly added. "Still pretty pointed and everything though."

"Alright, we're burning daylight already," Efren interjected. "Come on, we have an alien ruin to find."

The Spartans began to follow Efren, as Chief signaled them forward.

"See you in a few days," Chief told Shepard as they left.

"Same," Shepard concurred. "Good luck."

Shepard watched the Spartans leave, heading out of the UNSC camp at the edge of the fields, into grassy plain that surrounded them before disappearing into the dense brush of the jungle beyond. Nothing to do now but wait and hope they got back before anything truly hairy happened.

---

With Cortana gone for a while, there was going to be a greater workload for everyone to deal with concerning the Forerunner Facility. Halsey had already mapped out a number of security nodes they would need to bypass next. They were going to need to rely more on Legion as well. That was potentially problematic given the danger his glitch could pose, but this wasn't combat so the risk was negligible.

That being said, Tali wished they could get Kasumi down here. She wasn't an AI, but she was an experienced fellow hacker. She wouldn't replace Cortana, but at least they'd have someone to fill the void. That was unlikely happen though, getting access had been hard enough before the discovery of the armory. The Colonists weren't about to add more concessions to that now, not with everything exposed.

Which was why Tali was double timing it back to the facility. She wasn't about to lose too much time today. They still had so much more to get done. Although, it was hard not pause a bit and admire the little colony around her. Knowing now how they had built this place only made things more remarkable to her. They created a miniature city out of a ship with high tech hardware that none of them had likely trained on. Their whole lives uprooted and they didn't let it slow them, they built a new one.

It was a hopeful message to Tali, one that said things weren't so hopeless for her people. Sure, it would be harder for the quarians to resettle anywhere, given certain unique factors, but if these people could do it than why not hers? New Teteocan was an example to keep in mind when it came to quarian colonization. Their culture could be adapted, it could be preserved and it could flourish.

Said flourish was obvious by the groups of children playing in the streets. You'd think in a society like this, they'd need a lot of the kids to pull their own weight, work in the fields, that sort of thing. But no, these ones were having an actual childhood. They had salvaged or rebuilt enough modern technology to allow them that luxury. Whatever else you could say about what they had done to achieve it, these colonists wanted to live, not just survive.

Tali was passing by one group of children kicking around a small ball which they bounced off their hips, heads or ankles to one another in order to pass it around. One of the children must've hit it wide, because the ball ended up rolling to her leg. One of the kids, a girl with braids, rushed up to grab it and bring it back to the circle, only to look up into the silver eyes of the quarian staring back down. The girl was soon joined by her friends, who stared up at her in a mixture of wonderment as well as maybe a little fear. Feeling awkward, Tali tried to ease things over.

"Um, hello," she said, waving at them lightly.

The kids didn't seem to know how to respond at first. Reasonable, this was probably the first alien any of them had ever seen. First one that ever talked back to them as well. One of the boys spoke up first, his eyes glued onto her hands.

"Did you lose your fingers?" He asked timidly.

Tali raised her hand and wiggled her digits about.

"No," she assured them.

"Why do you only have three?" The boy asked curiously.

"Oh I was just born with three," Tali explained. "All of my people are."

She was worried for a second the kid would be scared off by this, but he just seemed amazed.

"Wow, that's freaky but cool," he said.

An older girl pointed to Tali's face next.

"Why are your eyes glowing?" She asked.

"It's mostly just a trick of the light," Tali tried to explain. "They don't... glow as much without the helmet on. The heads-up display in my mask kinda reflects and refracts the light it gives off."

"Why do you need a helmet?" One of the slightly younger boys asked. "Do you need it to breathe?"

"No, not exactly," Tali corrected him. "I can breathe your air just fine, but I could get sick because of the bacteria in it. My suit filters out all the bad things that could do that to me, like germs. Without it, well, my body's just not as strong as all of yours and can't fight them off."

One of the little girls stared up at Tali, her eyes focused on the side of her head.

"Mommy has a scarf like that around her head too," she said sweetly. "Yours is really pretty. All of your suit is."

"Why thank you," Tali said, smiling down at the tiny human.

"Purple's my favorite color," she added at random.

Tali giggled.

"I like it just fine myself," she concurred.

A whistle came from behind them, as Asha arrived.

"Hey, no bothering our guest," she ordered. "Go on, shoo."

The kids laughed at Asha as they ran off. One of the kids yelled back at Tali and waved.

"Bye-bye Astronaut Lady!" He said.

Tali returned the wave and looked at Asha.

"They weren't bothering me," the quarian assured her. "They were just being curious."

"Fair enough, but you're not here to play twenty questions with the tots," Asha explained.

"I suppose, but I'm more than happy to answer them," Tali replied plainly. "My people have always encouraged curiosity at a young age. You'll never figure out anything if you don't ask questions."

"A good philosophy," Asha concurred. "I guess that's why they picked you to be down here."

Even though she was being civil, Tali could still sense the animosity from the human. Asha was just doing her best to be polite, but the tone, the way her posture was, the grip on the band that held her rifle on her back, it all said she was holding some things in. Tali had a good idea as to what that was. Which made what she said next a foregone conclusion.

"I... I'm sorry things seem to have just exploded a bit," she tried to explain. "I guess it wouldn't help much to say I don't really judge you for what happened. Or either of your parents."

"It doesn't really," Asha confirmed. "Not unless you can tell the UNSC to back off."

"I'm not sure how much what I say about things would matter so... no," Tali confessed.

Asha exhaled loudly in annoyance.

"I was still young when it happened, but I remember everything very clearly," she told the quarian. "I remember homes burning, the sky practically on fire, giant ships just scorching the earth beneath them. We all ran to the UNSC, expecting them to try and save us, but no. They were bugging out as fast as possible, leaving us to fend for ourselves. I remember my mom trying to convince that freighter captain to take me. He looked right at me and I saw... I saw he didn't care. Just a kid and he was willing to let me die. And now, the UNSC is back and looking to judge my mom for something my father did... which was save our lives."

"I can hardly imagine what any of that is like," Tali assured her. "And like I said, I'm hardly one to judge another's parents. My father was... not perfect. Still, I know he'd do anything for his people. Your dad was... well, he sounds like someone who felt similar."

And he was probably a lot more honorable about it than her father was in the end. She left that part out though, it was still hard to reconcile what happened on the Alarai. Using the memory to comfort Asha a little, just a tiny bit, was worth it though. At least it would show her that she was on her side to an extent.

"Well, I wish he was here so you could compare them yourself," Asha said, her voice hard like gravel as she spoke. "He's not though and for all I know my mother could be next because of the same people."

"It doesn't have to come to that," Tali insisted. "There might be ways out of this, a compromise of sorts that resolves this whole mess. The exoskeleton suits are only a problem because of their nuclear cores, if we could replace them with something else, that might take some heat off your people a bit."

"My concern is for my mother," Asha reiterated. "Take the fucking suits, I don't care. If it means they won't charge her for a thing she didn't even do, I'd be the first to say we should give them up."

"Isn't there any proof?" Tali asked sincerely. "Some kind of black box, logbook, security footage, something that would prove your mother had no part in killing the Marines and that no one who did is still alive. That would help."

"I've been trying to think, okay?" Asha said, her tone now shifting to frustrated. "We ripped the fucking ship apart for parts pretty quickly. We didn't stop and consider what we'd need to preserve for legal documentation or whatever. We repurposed a ton of terminals and computer shit for other things. Who knows where the proof we'd need is now, if it exists at all. I'm not even sure there were cameras recording the event."

"Some of the Marines would've likely had HUD cams," Tali recalled. "It's standard issue for units as I understand."

"We didn't take any trophies off the bodies," Asha insisted. "We left them there, all of them. We were in a rush to get off the planet at that point. We didn't even have time to bury the people on our side. No time... no time to mourn."

Tali could understand why that hurt in particular.

"It can't be completely lost," Tali confidently said. "If you salvaged computers from the ship, assuming you didn't completely reformat them, there is a chance some of them could have backup security information. Likely, anything significant would be stored in the bridge consoles."

"Those would be in the main Village Elder Bunker," Asha confessed, her eyes drifting over in the direction of said structure. "We moved them there once construction was largely completed on the shelters and defenses. We currently use it to monitor information regarding the colony's various facets. Like, food production, stockpiles, power consumption, weather patterns for when it's gonna rain hard and where, that sort of thing. That's a lot of data to sift through."

"But there's a chance something could be there to help in your mother's defense," Tali offered. "I'm not saying that for certain, it's a long shot, but... a chance is better than nothing."

Asha looked at the quarian inquisitively. Her expression said it all, she was trying to feel the alien out.

"Why are you even telling me all of this?" She asked Tali pointedly. "What do you have to gain from selling me... what? A semblance of hope or whatever? What's your angle here?"

"None," Tali replied rather plainly. "I... I don't really want anything. Mostly, I just don't want to see anyone get hurt over something that happened years ago. Rowan told me about why you need those exoskeletons and I've seen your colony. Your people deserve a chance to grow, I don't want to see that squashed. And believed it or not, I think the UNSC isn't all too eager to do the same. They probably want an out too."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Asha said skeptically with a snorting laugh. "But really, what's your reason for telling me all this then? Come on, there's gotta be something. How am I supposed to trust you're not just wasting my time?"

Tali thought it over for a minute, trying to figure out how best to get this across. She decided a direct approach was needed.

"Because... I lost my mother too," she admitted.

Asha's look softened somewhat. Her defensive stance lowered.

"She got sick, for a lot of quarians that can be a death sentence," Tali explained sorrowfully. "I was still pretty young when it happened but... it still hurts. I hate that I can't remember everything about her at times. I have... a lot of regrets about it."

Asha lowered her head, unable to stare the quarian in the eye.

"I'm... sorry, I didn't know," she said respectfully.

"You couldn't have," Tali assured her. "Look, getting your defense grid back online will help in the long run, but if there is a way my crew can help you find evidence to exonerate your mother, I'd be willing to help. No strings attached I just... I don't like the idea of someone else losing a parent the way I lost mine."

Asha raised her head again, a stern look returning to her face but not the same kind as before.

"Would you even have time for any of this?" Asha asked. "What with the Forerunner crap you're doing?"

"I have a friend aboard the ship I serve on," Tali explained. "She's human and she's also an expert hacker. Not to mention our AIs. They can help sift through the buried data and code to find something of value. If it's there, they'll track it down. They'd just need clearance.

Asha considered it for a moment.

"I'd need to talk it over with mom," she exclaimed. "It's still a longshot and it technically requires you digging through our own data. They'll be suspicious. I... I still am, honestly."

"I don't blame you," Tali admitted. "But we can keep this off the record. The UNSC doesn't have to know about any of this and we can wipe any data we accumulate that doesn't pertain to your mother's innocence from our logs if need be. You can even ask a technician to oversee things."

"That might ease some concerns," Asha said, her voice finally sounding hopeful. "Alright, okay, this is at least something... thanks..."

"Tali," the quarian told her. "You can call me Tali."

"Tali, hmm," Asha noted. "Not as... fanciful as Astronaut Lady."

Tali suppressed a giggle at that.

"Was that a joke?" She asked.

"I make them occasionally," Asha claimed. "My childhood wasn't completely devoid of fun, despite... everything else that happened."

"Just nice to see you drop the serious tone for a second or two," Tali observed. "Your guard can't be up all the time."

"I'll relax it once the UNSC is off my doorstep," Asha assured her. "Right now, this is what has kept us alive for years. I'm not about to drop it completely now."

She looked out towards the direction of Zara's farm and the Marine camp close by.

"I can't claim to know what you've all been through," she admitted. "I imagine the same is true for them."

"You'd be surprised how similar some of their stories are to yours," Tali offered in return. "But, the experience of war is different depending on where you are in grand scheme of it. You're civilians, you're not expected to give up your lives like a soldier is. The idea of someone asking, demanding you do that, it's wrong, regardless of context."

"At least you're willing to say as much," Asha replied, adding a brief sigh. "Look, I know none of those Marines out there are the reason my dad is dead. I know that, everyone here does. We're not blinded by our anger, but... grudges are hard to dismiss just overnight and how things are now isn't helping with that."

Tali was silent, letting the young woman continue as she walked closer to her side.

"So even though I know they're not responsible, I look at them and all I see are the same people who got my friends and family killed," Asha explained. "So I understand if you want me to be less harsh on them or to try to see their good sides, but right now I can't. They're not my enemy... but they're not my friends either."

"Believe me, I've been where you are and I understand it," Tali concurred. "I don't expect you to just forget what happened. I don't think you're wrong feeling this way. But just keep in mind, a lot of those Marines are fighting for their own families and friends, same as your father did. You have that much in common."

Asha didn't deny that either, but she remained resolute.

"We'll see how that suggestion of yours with the terminals pans out first," she replied. "Then we'll see about... the rest of it."

"That's all I can ask, take care, Asha," Tali said graciously. "And... let your mother know that she has some friends here. Maybe more than she realizes."

Tali left the human with those parting words, heading back to the Forerunner Facility. Asha said nothing, but waited for the quarian to leave earshot to speak.

"Hmm, more friends," she mused. "Here's hoping you're right about that, Tali."

She needed head off too, find out what Zara thought of her mother's backroom deal. She needed to get ready for when it went down.

---

They had been warned the jungle was too dense to drive through, they didn't think it would get this bad. Trees were practically growing on top of each other, their roots and trunks intertwining with one another in a mess of foliage. Efren insisted on using the overgrown branches as a path and staying off the ground. The Master Chief could see his reasoning, the branches were big enough to walk along for one. He doubted the forest floor was that traversable this far in as well. Oh, and Efren kept mentioning the wildlife that lived in here. Mostly vicious predators who lurked in the shadows and shunned the sun of the upper sections. It was better to be off the ground until the trees weren't nearly as tangled anymore.

Efren was the best tracker among the colonists and he actually lived here, so Chief decided to defer to his judgment on the matter. They were at least making good time, although Efren was clearly better at it. He was using the higher branches and leaping from one to the other, while the Spartans remained on the lower, thicker branches.

"We should turn up here," he called down to them. "There's some raised stable ground we can use to get to the next crop of trees. That should get us closer to the river where we can make up some ground."

"You got a pretty good sense of direction," Fred commented.

"I'm the only one who goes this deep, mostly to keep an eye on the movements of hostile wildlife," Efren explained. "So I got a general idea of where I'm going, yeah."

"How far have you gone into this brush exactly?" Kelly asked.

"I'll let you know when we cross that threshold, believe me," he assured. "At that point, you're going to be the ones giving me directions."

Chief looked at his omni-tool and brought up the map that they laid out for them.

"We're making good time at least," Cortana commented.

"Could be doing better," Chief insisted. "Efren, this river you're aiming us at, is it a safe path?"

"Mostly," the tracker replied. "The trees should break up a bit once we're far enough upstream. Should be easier to move through the brush. Fastest way I can think of to get us far enough in."

"Alright, best we can do," Chief said. "Best we double time it then. Stay close."

"Same to you," Efren replied, he then leaped towards another branch ahead of him and moved further into the tree tops.

Chief watched as he did so, his eyes looking at the rustling leaves and moving branches.

"He's standoffish but he knows his way around for sure," Kelly acknowledged.

"So long as he keeps us from getting mauled by whatever is on that forest floor, I'm fine with a bit of a cold shoulder," Jun proclaimed. "Besides, we're probably already halfway there. We've been walking for hours now."

"Still a ways, sorry" Cortana informed them. "But with any luck, at this pace, it won't take nearly as long as what I originally projected."

Chief wouldn't hold her to that statement too strictly. Any number of problems could still arise to delay them. It didn't hurt to be optimistic though. They had beaten more stringent timetable expectations before after all. He just knew better than to presume everything would go smoothly for any extended period of time. They were never that lucky.

"This reminds me of when we were kids," Linda observed. "Remember, all those missions into the woods?"

"I remember our woods being colder," Fred stated. "And less overgrown roots acting as hiking trails. Very Storybookish if you ask me."

"I'd hold off on that until we encounter giant mushrooms," Anton commented. "Then you can make comparisons to any Fairy Tale you want."

"We were on a literal ring world," Kat spoke up. "Trust me, this isn't even half as weird as that place ended up being."

There was some kind of loud noise above them and to the right. It sounded like a "skree" of some kind. The branches shook a bit and Kelly shifted her rifle towards it, but the flapping of wings and an avian silhouette made her calm down. It had just been a bird, the normal kind to be precise, not the space pirate kind. Although it did look to have an extra pair of wings, so normal was a relative term.

"I liked Sam's owl call better," Kelly claimed.

"He took forever to get that right," Fred remembered fondly.

"He was dedicated," Chief commented. "That was never in doubt."

That was at least something all the Spartan IIs concurred, although Linda recognized not everyone here would. She began to explain to Kat and Jun

"Sam was one of-"

"Jorge mentioned him," Kat quickly assured her. "He... mentioned a lot of you."

That gave Fred a laugh.

"That was Jorge for ya," he said. "Always so personable."

"I think it was near impossible for him to fail to get along with anyone," Kelly added. "Gentlest of souls... although you wouldn't know it given his skill with heavy machine guns."

"Took to heavy weapons real fast, even before augmentation," Chief recalled. "You could always rely on him."

There was a brief silence over the group, it lasted longer than any of them expected. As their thoughts centered, eventually Chief spoke again. Giving voice to what everyone was already thinking.

"I miss them," he said. "We all miss them. All of them."

"It's... so weird," Fred said, his voice solemn and regretful. "You know, just them being... gone. You'd think we'd be used to by now. They prepared us for it. Hell, we even lost people in boot."

"We never lost so many all at once before though," Kelly reminded him. "I think that's what's still raw. And it just... brings back memories of everyone else."

Kat looked to the Spartans, eventually adding her voice once she felt it was appropriate.

"I haven't lost as many as you have," she acknowledged, still some hesitation as she spoke. "But... I understand it. I understand how it hurts, at least to some degree."

"No one has a monopoly on any of this," Anton assured her, sensing the reasoning behind her flustered speech. "You don't have to feel like you're intruding or anything."

"Thank you, but I still do regardless," she claimed. "Jun and I don't have the same history as any of you. We were older, we volunteered, specifically after we had nothing left to lose. It's... it's not the same."

"No, but it doesn't matter," Chief said firmly. "You're here and you're with us. You're a Spartan, the mark number doesn't exclude you or Jun. You're as much a part of this team as anyone and our losses do not negate your own. Never forget that."

Kat simply nodded and Chief turned back to point, continuing to follow after Efren.

"Yeah, he's still got it," Kelly commented.

"A bit heavier on the speeches though," Fred noted.

"That might be someone else's influence," Linda warmly explained.

They eventually caught up to Efren again near the small plateau the tree's branches and roots had snaked around. They jumped onto the grassy patch of raised earth; their guide already perched near the eastern edge. Chief walked over to him, bending down to see what he was looking at. Chief looked, but could see nothing but black beneath the tangled roots and branches.

"Something wrong?" Chief asked.

"Listening," he explained. "We have a tail."

"Who or what?" Chief asked.

"What," Efren acknowledged. "Nasty creatures, hunt in packs, most everyone in New Teteocan calls them Zotls, a name derived from a mythical monster. I wanted to call them Chupas, after a different Mexican monster, because I saw them once sucking blood outta their prey. I lost the vote though."

"Voting on monster names," Cortana slyly commented. "The height of democratic discourse."

Chief shushed Cortana and urged Efren to continue.

"They kinda look like wolves, but... not," he explained. "Heads are more like snakes, sorta. The jaws also expand. I've seen'em walk on two legs hunched over too. They only go on all four to run and climb, which they do pretty well. They don't like the sun though, doesn't burn'em or anything, so they aren't vampires. They're just sensitive to it. They stay out of it mostly, hunt on the floor, in the dark."

"You're sure they're out there?" Chief asked.

"I can smell'em, hear'em," he assured the Spartan. "I've had to kill a few that got too close to the colony to keep them back. They stopped probing the perimeter years ago though. They got smart, decided to wait for us to come out to them. We almost lost a hunting party to them. It's why we don't go into this part of the jungle anymore. I know what to look for is what I'm saying and they are right..."

He pointed downward, feeling that was sufficient enough to explain it. Given Efren seemed more than a little concerned, that left the Master Chief with a few questions.

"Is the river still safe to travel?" He asked.

"Should be," Efren said. "They're very patient and they won't just outright attack a group like ours. Too big. No, they're gonna wait, feel us out. They need to know what they're up against first."

"Why not just shoot them now if they're gonna be a problem?" Chief asked.

"You'd be wasting ammo, trust me," Efren assured. "Chupas like the dark because it hides their position from prey. They'll slink into the shadows, keep their distance for a bit and then come at us. Crafty fuckers. By the way, while you're with me, we're calling them Chupas, the democracy doesn't exist out here in the jungle."

Chief didn't really care what they called them. He just needed to neutralize them as a threat. He couldn't have them impeding the mission.

"So when they do become a problem, how do we kill them?" Chief asked.

"Aim for the head, go for the eyes and mouth," Efren informed him. "Same as most things. Better to hit them from high ground, they got a blind spot directly behind their eyes. Individual Chupas aren't a problem, it's the pack. You can't let them surround you or you're screwed. One gets your attention and another comes from the side. Almost lost my head once because of that. I learned to listen from then on."

"Are they the only thing to worry about?" Chief asked.

"For now," Efren answered. "Worse things could be around, I'm not sure. I haven't been this deep in a while. Anything could've moved into this territory by now."

Then they'd take one predator problem at a time. Chief just hoped that vicious bloodsucking snake-wolves were the extent of their problems for this entire trip. At least in terms of wildlife.

"Alright, we'll deal with it when the time comes," the Spartan assured him. "For now, keep your ears open. I want to know where they are lurking and how closely."

"Good strategy," Efren acknowledged. "I hope there's more to it though. These things are very proficient pack hunters, you can't underestimate them. Animal or not, they're still very dangerous."

"So are we," Chief assured him.

It wasn't a boast or a dismissive statement, just the truth. They had learned about wolves back on Reach. The lessons had stuck in his mind so completely that he couldn't forget them if he tried. He had molded his Spartans in a pack of his own because of them. When these Zotls, Chupas, whatever they were called, eventually came for them, only the stronger pack would walk away. The Master Chief had no doubt who that would be.

---

It was the weirdest situation Varvok had yet encountered. Humans looking at him with indifference and looking at fellow humans with distrust and scorn. Maybe it was because he looked nothing like any of the Covenant races they knew of that killed their people. The quarian and asari were not getting any glares either. That didn't change how strange this was to him or his men, the sense that they were slightly more welcome than the UNSC in a human colony. Moreso now after the discovery of the secret armory.

It was for this reason Varvok opted to keep his ground team near the camp close to the colony's fields. Apathy was a nice change of pace from disgruntled barely sustained tolerance. At least no one here knew Batarians well enough to hate them. Besides, he needed to plan for the eventual defense of this place and report his ideas to Shepard as to where his men would be best deployed.

The fields themselves offered decent ambush spots, assuming the enemy could be lured there. The potential damage to crops in the fighting would probably not be looked upon favorably by the colonists though. If they could convince them perhaps that they'd refrain from using any combustible material, perhaps that would be enough. He also liked the water towers and the catwalks along the irrigation system. That would offer a decent network of sniper positions.

Depending on who arrived first, the Covenant or Snarlbeak, he'd have to adjust strategy accordingly. The Spartans being gone left them vulnerable, but he agreed in the end it was the best solution over all. The longer they were stuck here, the harder it would be to hold this place. Better to send them now when they still had some time on the clock before the enemy made their move.

If the Covenant arrived, guerilla tactics would be their best option. They were a numerically superior force, beating off from the initial attack and then making their lives hell in the jungle would be a good way to keep potential collateral damage to a minimum. In fact, if the Covenant arrived, they would likely do so in force and be readily detected by the ships in orbit. All the time he had spent with them had revealed how blatantly overconfident they were in their power. They'd make a show of force, which means they'd likely have ample warning when they showed up.

Snarlbeak was potentially trickier, so much so Varvok almost preferred the Covenant showing up first. He had proven a cunning adversary. It was how he had tracked them down to Reach without any bugs or secret beacons. He wouldn't be as predictable as the Covenant, nor as flagrant in his strategy. Chances are he knew about this section of space, of all the ships lost that came to this sector. So he'd go in quiet, with a small team, before committing vast resources. He expressed this concern to Shepard directly. The Commander agreed with the assessment.

"Weird that I'm now hoping the Covenant show up instead of the pirates, isn't it?" He asked.

It was for that reason that, maybe, it was a blessing in disguise the humans of this colony had stolen those exoskeleton suits and that tank. Of all the things Snarlbeak would expect, he wouldn't be planning on a colony of humans being here and he wouldn't expect them to be packing heavy ordinance. Despite the tension their appearance had caused, they could be useful in throwing back the pirate tide.

Some of his men were still around him, chatting, checking out their own weapons, getting something to eat. He wondered how they felt about this, camped outside a human settlement. Just watching them for once with no intention of doing any harm to them. Varvok wouldn't claim they had never attacked places like this before, that was the whole point of the Swords of Khar'shan. They had to strike human settlements to draw out Alliance military targets. Balak had thought of the whole scheme himself, it was something he had learned after Terra Nova. That humans would rush to save their colonies under threat of Batarian attack. They were pretending to be radical terrorists, not spec ops troops, it was part of the act.

Because of that, he had never gotten much chance to actually observe humans in these sorts of colonies. He hadn't bothered to give them much thought during missions. They just launched the assault, usually just before dawn or right after dusk, made some noise, blew up a building or two and then scurried off. Hit and run raids, vicious, nasty and short, so the bigger fish would come out to play next time.

Now he was watch humans just being normal, not defending themselves or attacking him. Not the enemy or even an ally of convenience. Just a neutral party, with no real connection to the Alliance or the UNSC. To say it made him feel strange was an understatement and he imagined at least a few of his men had similar thoughts on their minds. They had come here to fight humans for the glory of the Hegemony, now they were camped out in their backyard, planning to defend them, sitting and watching them for now. Besides the irony, it was a rare chance for him to see humans with a lesser degree of prejudice.

Someone jolted him from his thoughts.

"Not much of a show, is it?"

It was Garrus, he had likely just arrived in camp. With the Spartans gone for who knew how long, Shepard needed more bodies down here. Varvok welcomed it, but his thoughts were elsewhere, so he didn't have much of a response.

"It's... educational," he said, looking back towards the farmers.

"You want to grow corn or something?" Garrus asked.

"Not that kind of education," Varvok corrected. "More... behavioral."

Garrus looked over at the farmers himself now, eyeing as they gathered up the corn from their fields and began transporting it to their storehouses.

"They've certainly made a good go of things," he said. "They're a fully functioning colony and everything. And all by themselves too. No sponsors, no aid from the UNSC. Sure, a lot of it has to do with that Forerunner facility, but it's impressive all the same."

"No doubt," Varvok agreed. "It is... peculiar though."

"They don't have farming communities where you're from?" Garrus asked.

"Of course we do," Varvok chided back. "Where do you think we get our food? No, it's not because it's new to me. It's that it's... so similar."

Garrus seemed to sigh knowingly at the comment.

"I'm guessing the major difference is... no slaves," the turian noted.

"I won't bother answering a hypothetical," Varvok replied with a grunt. "My thoughts on how they mirror our people. They're just... normal. I saw one man struggling with a load, a second one rushed to assist him. Repairs on that tower, I think the two working were just laughing about something, I don't maybe a joke or whatever. There was a woman, sorting some of the harvested food, preparing it for transport. Someone dropped a tool on his foot or something, she moved over to take him to first aid. I think I saw Zara earlier too, managing shift change, going over how things were being done. She pitched in to assist with some of the wheat cutting."

"You've been watching for a while, huh?" Garrus observed.

"I expected humans to be more chaotic, disorganized, petty and self-serving," Varvok continued. "Menial labor is... well, it's not something one is expected to enjoy. You'd think they'd complain more without someone being harsher or firmer with them. But they act as a collective, with no taskmaster or system of superiors. Just Zara, managing them best she can. Firm, but never harsh."

"Like family?" Garrus questioned.

Varvok nodded.

"It's hard to look at them and think they're lazier or stupider because of their blood or lack of a second pair of eyes," he explained. "They've had no help from a Council, nor did they bulldoze their way into this place. They seem more than worthy of being here, like you said they've made it their own. I expected something more chaotic, messy. To see them this capable, it's... peculiar."

"Well, your old boss kept telling you how the humans were a bunch of liars, thieves and idiots," Garrus recollected. "Your government claimed they were favored by the Council and that was the only reason they were at all successful. You've grown up thinking of them as arrogant bullies who muscle their way onto worlds and pillage them at their leisure. So, it's understandable you never really got to see what they were really like until now. I mean, you don't have Balak in your ear anymore telling you to think that guy with the basket of veggies is a monster, or that woman getting a drink should be enslaved to Batarian masters."

Varvok sighed with audible annoyance, but it was more because he knew the turian was right. He never had seen humans as anything more than thieving liars who needed to be taught their place. Now he was watching their community and was coming to the realization that humans were far from that.

"With a few tweaks, this would pass for a Batarian farming colony," he confessed. "Maybe not exactly the same, but still... they're not animals. I respected humans' ability to fight, their loyalty to each other, but I imagined that only extended to their military. That they needed strong soldiers to defend their population of weaklings. Balak always said the strong in human society are made to serve the weak, that it was the secret shame the Alliance would not admit. That we knew better."

"And now?" Garrus asked.

Varvok took another look as he watched a tractor's trailer cart being loaded with heavy produce.

"I don't see weakness among these people, they're as strong as any Batarian warrior," he declared. "They are survivors, they have forged their own destiny. They see no caste and no master, yet their will to push forward in face of the obvious adversity on their own is clear. They have thrived, Balak and the Hegemony would believe this impossible. And now I know they're wrong. So, in one sense I know that to be true, but now I'm wondering what else the Hegemony is wrong about."

"Like maybe slavery?" Garrus asked proddingly.

The Batarian bristled.

"I'm not saying that," he said, gritting his teeth uncomfortably. "I'm saying... maybe humans aren't all the same. Maybe... their blood is more noble than we'd have liked to admit."

Garrus smirked a bit all the same, looking out to the humans once more.

"Remember when we talked about how humans used to be the greatest threat to the turians?" He asked.

"I remember," Varvok sighed wistfully. "Everyone remembers, you're friends now."

"I could probably go on about the admirable traits we discovered, the respect we garnered over time," the turian claimed. "How we came to realize despite our differences, we did share some things in common. That there were things they could teach us and us them. We just needed to be open to the possibilities."

"Is that what I have to be?" Varvok asked. "More open?"

Garrus shrugged.

"You're already an exile, you're fighting against the Covenant and by extension Balak," he listed off. "You've long since accepted that your people can be fallible, that the price for vengeance against humanity is too high. So, you know your government is wrong, you've known it for a while. Now, you're faced with the knowledge that the enemy they trained you to fight just wants the same things you do. More importantly, they deserve those things as much as you do. You're already open, Varvok. You just need to stop keeping people out."

The turian walked away after that. It was just well, Varvok had nothing more to say. Not because he was angry at Garrus, but because he sensed the turian had a point. If not against slavery or the Hegemony, at the very least against whatever prejudices remained inside him. He was now working better with Shepard, even if he hadn't committed to his overall mission of saving humanity. However, regardless of how he felt about the humans back home, he could tell this colony deserved a chance. Just like he still believed his people deserved a chance to be free of the Covenant, to be allowed to chart their own destinies.

New Teteocan was an example of that spirit, even if it was not a Batarian colony. For that reason, he knew he couldn't let it fall. If he wanted to help save it though, he would need to put aside any remaining issues that lingered. As would his men. He'd have to speak to Shepard again, form a more concrete strategy. He had enough information by now to start considering further strategic options. One of which would involve those Exoskeleton suits the UNSC were so upset about. If he could convince them all that they could be of use in the battle to come, perhaps they could hold out against whatever assault was aimed at them. Even better, maybe it would in some small part convince Haverson, Holland and Whitcomb of what he already believed. That this colony and its people, for whatever they had done in the past, deserved this chance of theirs.

Seeing the Batarian in a human was still off-putting, but the idea no longer sickened him as it would've a few months ago. And Garrus was right about another thing as a result of that realization. He had already forsaken Balak as his mentor. So why hold onto his lessons so tightly? Maybe it was a betrayal of what he had always been told, but they betrayed him and his men first. What loyalty did he have to their ideals? Varvok supposed he'd find out in due time.

---

Efren had been right about the river. The Chupas were holding back, but they were there. Cortana pinpointed them on the motion tracker. Not that he needed it, Chief swore he could see three pairs of eyes staring at him from the dark at one point. It was likely the breach in the canopy above the river kept them from coming closer. With the sun still out, the light that did come through made something of a safe zone for them. It wouldn't last forever though, night was coming. They double-timed through the river as a result, Chief didn't want them out in the open.

They reached a more open part of the jungle an hour or so later, not nearly as many tangled roots and intermingled trees. Those were still around, but there was slightly more space. Chief took a look around, looking at possible choke points and paths. Trying to figure out what an animal would do was different from a sapient creature, but there was a pattern to predators regardless of intelligence.

They'd seek to make a quick strike, fast and hard. They'd overwhelm the senses of their prey and then run back into the shadows. They would not persist in a prolonged engagement. Efren had scared them off from the colony after all, that suggested they understood when something wasn't worth it. If they killed a few of their number, the rest of the pack would cut their losses and run, lest their numbers were devastated.

That was assuming of course these Chupas weren't starving of course, desperation could lead anyone, man or beast, to throwing caution to the wind. For now, he'd assume these Chupas weren't that hungry if they were being this patient. So he'd presume all they had to do was kill a few of them to get the rest to retreat. From the look of their surroundings though they'd have a good place to make a stand here. He made the decision. They'd camp here for now.

They gathered up some firewood as the sun began to set. Not to keep warm or cook anything, that wasn't its purpose. If the Chupas were sensitive to light, then it was best to have as much on their side as possible when darkness fell. The jungle provided all they needed and before long, they had a small fire going. By then, the light was almost gone, as dusk took hold.

"What do you think a normal camping trip is for most people?" Fred asked the group. He was sitting close to the fire, on a log he found in the woods, watching the flames dance.

"Songs, roasting things on a stick, stargazing," Kelly said, standing off to the side. "That's what I've heard anyway."

"Shame I never took up an instrument then," Fred sighed. "Never was any room to bring one of course, but I bet I would've been great."

"I think Emile had a Harmonica," Jun suggested as he leaned against a tree. "Never did see him play it though. He never took off his helmet."

"If only the UNSC put S'mores on the menu as an MRE," Anton thought aloud, sitting down across from Fred by the fire. "That would be great. Remember when we got S'mores that one time, guys?"

"Yeah, because we stole the necessary ingredients for them before we got sent out on that training exercise," Kelly reminded him. "Not because they gave them to us. And you all only knew they were even there because I snuck a peek at the kitchen manifest in the first place."

"They never could keep you out of the system," Linda acknowledged as she continued to adjust her rifle's scope. "How'd you manage to keep breaking in? You never did tell us."

"They kept changing the security specs," Kelly shrugged. "They were deliberately challenging me after a point. I had to keep proving to them that I could not be underestimated."

"Too bad there's no kitchen to steal from now," Fred said wistfully. "Things were a lot more fun back then. Well, relatively speaking of course."

The Master Chief was close by, absorbing the conversation as he watched the treeline. He kept trying to see the Chupas in the dark, like he had before. No such luck this time, but sensed they were there. Cortana hadn't picked up anything on the tracker, but they all knew that would change eventually. Until then, they could only prepare and reminisce. The latter of which even Cortana involved herself in.

"Sounds a bit like they led you into these sorts of actions," she suggested. "In Ancient Times, Spartans trained their kids to steal from the market and so long as they didn't get caught, they were praised for it."

"We all suspected that at some point," Chief responded. "Not just because of how they upped the ante on training exercises and survival missions. The ODSTs in-charge, the consequences for failure to perform, the emphasis on making us see obstacles in everything and everyone. They were training us to expect no quarter from the enemy."

"I think they softened a little by the time we came around," Kat said, taking her own seat by the fire. "Our training was a lot more rudimentary, no less difficult, but not nearly as severe. I'd like to say it was because ONI became a gentler, kinder organization, but we all know that would be a lie. I think it was mostly because of how... well, expendable they believed we were. Spartan IIIs were considered to be shock troops, not nearly as expensive or costly as all of you."

"Gotta love ONI," Fred laughed sarcastically. "If they aren't being abusive dicks, they're apathetic dicks."

"Regardless, they did form us into what we needed to be," Chief interjected. "The soldiers humanity needed us to be. More importantly, they gave us each other."

"That is one thing we can thank them for," Linda agreed. "Although personally, John, I give you more credit for making us what we needed to be than them."

"Same," Kelly agreed.

"Third that," Fred concurred.

"Yeah, no argument here," Anton added.

Chief thought he heard Cortana audibly coo in his ear, but he waved it off.

"I appreciate the sentiment, all of you," he told his team. "I'm not sure how much I can agree with it, but thank you all the same. I wish there were more of us here to say as much. Maybe then it would be easier to swallow."

There was a solemn bit of silence among the group, remembrance washing over them. Even Kat and Jun, as they recalled their own lost comrades. The silence was only broken by Fred.

"Hey, you can't carry all that weight, man," he warned. "At least not alone."

"I'm the leader, it's part of the job," Chief reminded him. "We might have been friends with all of them, but I was the one in charge of leading them through the fire. That's a special sort of position, with a special kind of responsibility. I can't shirk it, even for a little bit."

"Maybe, but as you said, they were our friends too," Kelly informed him. "Our family, and we couldn't do anything to save them either. All we can do now is push forward, make it worth something, like you always said."

Chief nodded, knowing she was right. It helped to know he at least found and saved them. It did not make up for everyone who was gone, but at least they were safe. And even though he knew it was an impossible promise, he swore he'd do whatever he could to keep them safe this time.

The conversation was somewhat derailed when Jun looked up to a nearby tree.

"Hey, Efren, you can join the sit-in if you want," he shouted upwards. "It's not just super-soldiers only."

Efren had taken up a sniper's nest in a tree overhead. He was currently laying prone in the branches, his eye close to scope as he scanned the treeline.

"No thank you," he replied. "The ground is the last place I want to be. You have fancy armor and shields and automatic military grade weapons to protect you. I got this rifle and a poncho. Excuse me if I don't want to be eye level to the Chupas."

"Didn't you say they could climb?" Linda asked.

"Yeah, but it will take them a while to get up here," Efren informed her. "Plenty of time to hear them coming and fire down at them. Meanwhile, they have the seven of you to bother with and you're all much bigger than me. You're more than likely their main course, I'm just dessert."

"Well that's a cheery thought," Cortana mused. "He's pudding, we're the meat, just wonderful."

"It's nice to feel so valued and wanted," Fred commented. "Even if it is as dinner."

"They're going to have to work for it in any case," Chief assured them. "Their main weapon is surprise, relying on ambush tactics and such. They've lost a degree of that. We know they're here and we have a good idea where they're coming from. All we need to do is cover each other, don't give them an opening, and we'll scare them off before long."

"And then they're on the menu," Anton declared. "Chupa steaks, medium-rare."

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that," Efren warned. "They taste terrible."

"The more I hear about these things the less I like about them," Jun said with a sigh.

That was when they heard a strange sort of howl, one that soon lurched into a shriek as it went along. Chief looked to the tree line in the distance, scanning the shadows. He didn't have to ask Cortana to give him a report, she began in earnest.

"Multiple pings, front, back and side of our position," she warned. "I count at least four per group, they're moving slow, but I have them all the same."

"Rustling in the underbrush, north by northeast," Efren called down, aiming through his scope. "They're psyching themselves up to rush in. Don't be fooled, it's just their aggro wave. The real danger comes from the side and behind."

"Cortana, let us know which group moves in next and when," Chief ordered. "Linda, Jun, take up sniping positions, everyone else, get to cover. Remember, worst comes to worst, switch on your flashlights. They're sensitive to light, that could give us a split second to get the upper hand."

Linda stood up, cocking her rifle's pin as she headed off to her position alongside Jun.

"Copy, sir," she assured him.

Chief positioned himself in the middle of their lines. He didn't bother searching for cover, that wouldn't matter with this enemy. He just needed enough space to move and pivot around so he wouldn't get caught in between two of these things. He kept an eye on the trees, scanning the darkness for those eyes he saw before. It didn't take long to spot them, glaring through the underbrush along their lines. They were here, ready to end their hunt.

Suddenly one of the eyes darted forward, a shadow emerged from the trees and began rushing at them all.

"Hold," Chief told the others. "Let them get closer."

They didn't want to waste bullets, they needed this to be quick and clean. The shadows continued lunging and weaving through the underbrush, encroaching on them more and more. Chief kept an eye on the motion tracker, letting the hostile red dots close in. He steadied his hands and aimed his assault rifle down the line. Then, as the moving shadows closed in, he made the call.

"Weapons free."

Linda fired first of course. Her bullet cut down one of the shadows with a clean hit. The others fired as well, hitting the creatures as they approached through the dark. Chief kept from shooting himself, watching the reaction of the creatures, trying to guess which one was gunning for him. Even with all the shooting, he was able to train his senses on one shadow in particular that seemed to be going for the throat, avoiding the muzzle flashes and gunning for him.

Finally it emerged into view and Chief aimed his rifle's flashlight onto it. Finally, the Chupa was revealed. As Efren said, it was indeed nightmarish. Its furred body was gangly, with pointed spikes unfurled from its back and shoulders. That part looked similar to a wolf, up until the whip-like tail. The real eye-catcher though was the head, which indeed look like a snake with six eyes attached to a wolf's body. It had a neck that seemed to slither about, almost as if to confuse its prey to mask its true intentions. The real terror was what happened when it opened its mouth to shriek at the light shining in its face. The jaws unfurled like some kind of flower would, separating into three sections. Within were several serrated teeth and twisting tongues with spines of some sort on them. Probably meant to hold its prey while it sucked the blood out of it.

Chief fired into the open maw, unloading half a clip into it. That bothered it more than the light did, one of the shots blowing apart a tongue. The Chupa screamed in agony and backed away, but it wasn't done. It tried to come at Chief from another angle, lunging on his right side. Chief rolled left, and fired once more, hitting it in one of its eyes. The creature was wounded, but it kept moving. It scrambled away, heading for the darkness. Chief changed mags and would've kept shooting, had Cortana not chimed in.

"More coming in on our flank, Chief," she warned him. "Just like we figured."

"How's our front looking?" He asked his team.

"They've stopped charging," Fred replied. "They're just running through the underbrush and roots, trying to avoid the shots."

So they had learned the front door was a no go, time to try the side. The attack on their backsides wouldn't be far along after. They needed to move quickly.

"Linda, Jun, pivot to the flank. Everyone else, keep pressure on the front for now," he ordered. "As long as they can hear bullets coming at them, they'll stay back."

"Copy, sir," Fred replied.

Already, Chief could see one of the Chupas scrambling over some roots, intent on charging through the flank. A bullet from either Linda or Jun took it down, striking him clean through the head as it tumbled down the roots. Good, they could be killed, they just needed a good enough hit.

"We'll keep you covered, Chief," Jun assured. "Best fall back to the fire."

"Way ahead of you," Chief assured, moving back slowly but never taking his eyes off the flanking position.

A pair of the Chupas charged forward soon enough, leaping down from the gnarled giant roots and onto the ground.

"I got the one to your left, John," Linda reported in.

A few bullets struck the Chupa, first at its claw as it lunged forward and then to the of its snout at it started screeching. Chief focused on the creature to his right, firing a spray into it as it leapt forward. Chief ducked low, continuing to fire into it as it passed over his head. The Chupa landed, twisting and turning back onto its feet, even with blood pouring from its wounds.

"Another, behind you!" Linda warned.

"Stay on the flank, Cortana, range," Chief ordered.

"Seven meters! Six!"

Chief pulled out his pistol and kept firing at the first Chupa as it rushed him. He kept shooting even as Cortana relayed how close the second one was. When she got to one meter, Chief rolled to his left and let the lunging monstrosity crash into his pack brother. Their heads smashed together as Chief continued to fire on both of them. He managed to plug a few more rounds into their heads, but they did not go down. Luckily, Linda and Jun had his back. They fired two clean shots into their backs. Still disoriented from the previous blows to the head they lashed out at one another before the second one batted the first away and ran at Chief, mouth wide open. Chief aimed several shots straight down its throat. That was enough to kill it. The first one met its end when it tried to flank Chief at the same time and got a bullet through its skull from Linda.

"Back group coming in!" Cortana warned.

"Everyone fall back to the fire pit," Chief ordered. "We need to break them there. Thin their numbers as they close in. Watch your corners, do not let one distract you for long. Move in pairs."

Chief was already back at the fire by the time he finished his order. There he found Efren, still high in a tree, firing sporadic shots at the encroaching Chupas.

"They got us boxed in," he warned. "I count at least five behind us, four on the flank, five in front, but there could be more. I can only estimate."

He fired off another shot into the darkness, a shriek was heard in the next second.

"Hopefully that removed one," he said as he quickly reloaded.

"Just stay in the tree and keep your eyes peeled," he told him. "We'll hold this ground."

"That was my plan," Efren said rather bluntly. "Good to know we can agree on things."

Chief didn't exactly blame Efren for being all too eager to stay in the trees, all things considered it was preferable. They didn't need a civie getting in their way by trying to be a hothead hero. Besides, they had this in hand and he was doing a good enough job up there to begin with.

Chief watched Anton and Fred backing up together as a pair of Chupas assaulted them. These ones were on their hind legs, slashing at them with their claws. One of the creatures slashed through the bark of a small tree as it tried to cut down Anton. The Spartan ducked in time though and managed to fire a round directly into the underside of the creature's jaw. The monstrous animal stumbled back just as Fred blasted his Chupa in the neck and caused it to falter. Anton then rolled a grenade into the middle of the beasts and let it blow. The small explosion ripped at the Chupas' hides as Anton and Fred rushed back to the fire pit.

Kat and Kelly made it their first, just as the Chupas coming up behind their position began to enter the fray proper. As they began leaping among the roots and trunks of the jungle around them, closing the distance on the Spartans, Chief looked to Kat.

"How many new offensive apps have you loaded onto that arm of yours now?" He asked her.

"Enough," she assured him.

She aimed her cybernetic arm at one of the creatures and let loose an Incineration offensive attack. A ball of flame traveled through the air and erupted against the Chupa. It fell to the ground, screaming and shrieking as its burning body disturbed his pack. The light of the flames eating away at him causing them to falter in their attack.

"Take'em!" Chief ordered.

Kelly, Chief and Kat opened up on the faltering Chupa charge. Kelly unloaded her Battle Rifle on them, aiming down the sights. She kneeled down as one of the creatures made a charge directly at her. It rushed up on its hind legs, taking shot after shot from the Spartan's gun. It began jumping among the roots in an attempt to confuse her shots. However, she still managed to land a few on the monster, even as it leapt around.

As it closed in though, Kelly laid off on the gunfire. She began fiddling with the flashlight on her rifle a little. Then, just as the Chupa got close, she activated it. Instead of one singular sustained beam though, the flashlight let off a disorienting strobe effect. The Chupa ducked down, slamming its head into the dirt and trying to claw its eyes as the light hurt it. Keeping the strobe on the creature, Kelly pulled out her pistol and just unloaded into the monster's face, before long, it was dead.

"Told you I could get it to work," she said to Chief.

"Didn't doubt it," he told her. "We just didn't have time to get it working for everyone."

The success of Kelly's strobing flashlight was undercut, however, by Efren.

"Hey, um, Spartans, something coming up fast here! Directly west of our front, in fact!"

Chief moved to look and saw what it was, the same Chupa from before, the one who's eye he had shot out. It was rushing at them through the trees, coming at their fire pit.

"I can't get a shot on it, Chief," Linda reported. "It's too fast, no idea how with so many holes in it."

"I know why," Chief assured her. "It's mine, hold off the others."

Chief moved into its path and the creature's charge stopped. It landed a few feet away and roared at him before it began to pace about. Chief was certain now, it was the same Chupa, the same wounds marked it as such. It snapped its unhinged jaws at Chief as it continued to circle him. The Spartan never let it leave his sight.

"I think it remembers you," Cortana warned.

"I figured," Chief replied.

"Good news, I'm monitoring its lifesigns through your sensors," Cortana continued, trying to sound confident. "It is hemorrhaging, I think it's surviving through rage right about now."

"Any good spots to shoot?" Chief asked.

"I think I located its heart, right about here," Cortana said, pointing it out on his HUD. "Try going for there."

"Thanks," Chief told the AI. "Remember that shield trick you did with that flood infection form?"

AI seemed to recall that and did not need further information as to why either.

"Yeah," Cortana replied. "Yeah I think I do. I'm gonna hate this next part, aren't I?"

"Maybe a little," Chief admitted.

"Charging now," Cortana sighed. "Please don't let it bite your head."

Chief rushed at the Chupa, firing away at the monster, before faking right and going left. The alien lunged right and Chief fired near where its heart would be. The monster pivoted its long neck around and made to bite Chief arm. The Spartan grabbed his pistol in his free hand and let the jaws close in just enough before letting off a round into the monster's face. It exited through one of the nostrils, causing the Chupa to shriek in pain.

"Charged! Do it!" Cortana reported.

Chief threw himself into the side of the Chupa and let his shields go into overload, creating an electrical feedback. Just as it had fried the infection form back on the Pillar of Autumn, now it scorched the Chupa's side and let off a small blinding light as well. The Chupa rolled over onto its side in pain, giving Chief the opening to fire into its heart with a full mag. The monster screamed aloud, its shriek piercing the night.

In an instant, the other Chupas stopped... and suddenly turned back into the shadows. A few growled and snarled back at the Spartans, but did not stay or linger. The rushed into the darkness of the undergrowth, their shrieks and howls soon deafening into silence.

Efren finally came down from his tree as the Spartans all regrouped at the fire pit.

"I think that was their alpha," he told them all. "It's death shriek scared them all enough to know this wasn't winnable."

"Little close at the end all the same," Jun said.

"Still, probably the most memorable camping trip we've had yet," Fred stated.

"Probably best not to stick around though," Anton stated. "I mean, if they regroup, they could try coming after us in our sleep or something."

"And we still need to get to the offsite location," Kelly insisted.

"Agreed," Chief concurred. "We keep moving, put some distance between us and the pack. Efren, what's our direction?"

"This way," he said, pointing off into the distance. "At this pace, we might get there before the end of the day tomorrow."

"Then no sense in staying here," Chief ordered. "Let's move."

Kat put out their fire and they made a beeline for the trees. They still had a ways to go, but at least they wouldn't have a tail on them for a while. Their pack had proven strongest, but the Master Chief knew the real test would be up ahead. They still had a Forerunner Security Station to crack into and who knew what lay inside?

---

In the jungle tree line, miles away from where the Spartans had made their stand against this planet's greatest hunters, there were other eyes watching their own prey. Through high powered scope specs, they watched as a kig-yar captain, Zek, met with a pair of humans. They had a portion of stalks laid out in a large weaved together tarp. Curious, the holder of the scope turned on the magnified laser microphone to listen on things.

"This is only a trial run, we can't just give you all of it in one go," the human in the hood said. "We need to know you're not lying to my mom."

"Miss Asha, I would never dare lie to that woman, she reminds me too much of my own mother," Zek claimed. "And, when it comes to business, I always keep my word."

Zek had two of his men bring over a crate and place it down at the Asha human's feet. Opening it up, the human pulled out a Beam Rifle and gave it a once over. Aiming down the sights.

"These things can do all you say it can?" She asked.

"If you lived through what you say you did, then you already know," Zek insisted. "These things are the bane of the UNSC on the war front and they can just as easily be turned on any Covie bastard who decides to mess with you now. Call it payback for what they did to your friends all those years ago. Given by someone who knows what it's like to be screwed over by the people above his paygrade."

The human seemed to give things some though, but did not fire the weapon. Obviously, she did not want to draw attention with the noise it would cause.

"If there are more like this, and we are satisfied," Asha replied. "Then you'll get more stalks. As much as we agreed on to start. You want more, we'll need more from you."

"Understood," Zek assured her. "We need this stuff to get a head start and to practice anyway. You guys wouldn't happen to have a handy cookbook would you? We're still debating on what to make with it. It has to be cost effective."

"You're on your own there, bird," Asha stated bluntly. "We're farmers, not drug dealers."

"But this isn't drugs to you," Zek claimed. "It's... more like candy. We're candy birds is what we are. That's way less evil."

Asha seemed to sigh in annoyance, but the one spying on her held a light smile. A rare event, Lurz's didn't smile all that often. It faded soon in any case, as more pressing concerns of business took hold. He turned to his little flock of fellow space pirates, fellow ibie'shan kig-yar. They weren't as strong as him, nor as big, but they were enough for what needed to be done. Not tonight though, they still needed to plan. All the same, he had to report in.

"Zek here," he told his communicator. "Send them."

"Excellent work, Lurz, always so dependable," Snarlbeak replied. "Zom is already in transit. I suppose he's still with his human clients as well?"

"Yes," Lurz reported.

He looked back. His glare focused on the colony built into the side of the Forerunner structure.

"Also more," Lurz added grimly. "More prey to kill."

---

AN: So, been a while. Apologies for that, my notes in the link on my profile can better illuminate the reasons. For now, let's just say I encountered more than a few problems that made it harder to write at times. Sorry for the delay, but rest assured I'm re-committing to getting more chapters done and writing more in the coming weeks. Don't worry, I got a lot more done than you might think. Anyway, Lurz and his band of baddies are on the way and things are looking grim for our heroes. Will they be able to get past their difference before things go sideways? Find out next time and thanks for sticking with us on this journey readers.