Chapter 29 – Spes

August 19th, 2552 - (14:30 Hours - Military Calendar)

Epsilon Eridani System, Reach

Viery Territory, Eposz

New Alexandria, Csillagos éj Hotel

:********:

Erica was slowly pulled from the depths of sleep. It had been a fitful one at best, more in the semi-lucid twilight between awareness and unconsciousness. She peeled her eyes open against the tug of an exhaustion that she could still feel in her bones, the kind that a few hours' worth of a nap couldn't take away. That and something else. Her vision was blurry. She tried to blink a few times and realized that her eyes were soaked. It hit her then that she must have been crying in her sleep and hadn't even noticed. She wiped the tears away on her sleeve. The action itself immediately called to her attention that one of her arms was free.

Sára was still leaning on her other shoulder, fast asleep.

Noah was missing.

She looked around. There was no sign of him in the safe room.

She turned to the curtained off room. It was dark inside. Even so, she could still make out Mr. Mitchell's boots sticking out from under the sheet. She quickly looked elsewhere.

Her suspicion settled on the doorway to the newest room, a small kitchenette. She had found it on her datapad while checking for extra amenities. Her plan was to use it later. She'd left the door open so that when she woke up, she could slip away and start some breakfast for the three of them. With the light on and a shadow shuffling around inside, she suspected her little man had beaten her to it.

She carefully leaned Sára against the wall and stood up. A few soft steps across the carpet brought her to the doorway. She peeked inside.

It was a small space. An island table with an electric stove and a sink ran from one side to the next, leaving just enough room for an adult to skirt by. A room meant for six or seven almost looked empty with its lone occupant.

Noah was at the stove. A family of pans and saucers were arrayed in front of him. His shoulders were in motion, anchoring his arms as he kneaded his palms through a ball of dough. She noticed that he had a large apron tied around his waist. It was clunky on him since it was obviously meant for someone twice his size. Nevertheless, she couldn't help standing aside. The moment was unexpected to say the least but a welcome one.

"What're you making?"

He stopped suddenly and looked up at her. She smiled as his face lit up like a tomato.

"Nothing." He said. His lower lip pouted a little, a telltale sign he was lying. She guessed having a hard time avoiding the truth was something that ran in the family.

She strolled behind the counter to see for herself. He was working with several balls of dough, most of which were already kneaded to perfection. The door of the oven was open and its settings were primed and ready.

She picked up one of the almost-biscuits, grinning at the small signs of preparation that her own culinary skills could discern.

"Not bad."

Noah brightened up. "You think so?"

"I thought you said you weren't making anything?"

Knowing he was caught, he shrugged. "I wanted to get some breakfast for you and Sára."

Right then, Sára walked in as well, yawning as she surveyed his handiwork. "What's all this?"

"Breakfast." Erica said, smirking at its maker. "But I think Mr. Chef here might need some help. How about it?"

She watched him brighten even more at the thought of having a couple of extra hands.

His face dropped just as quickly, covered over by a pall of worry. "What's that?"

"What?" Erica followed his line of sight back out of the kitchen and to the titanium door of the main room. Both her and Sára stood still, listening.

A moment of silence passed where she was sure there was nothing. Her assumption hadn't gotten off the ground before she heard a distant whining. A familiar surge of fear crawled up her spine. The noise's stochastic rhythm and sizzling resonance suggested plasma fire. She was wondering if the Covenant were back at it again when she heard something else. There were thuds, fast and succinct, far away but getting closer.

Gunshots.

Erica whipped out her pistol, prompting Sára to do the same. Noah naturally crouched down behind the island table as the pair slipped in beside him, aiming over the tabletop to the door ahead.

The sounds drew nearer. Shouts and growls became more distinct. Beneath the ruckus, Erica could make out individual voices. Someone was shouting orders.

A distant shaking came through the floor. She recognized it right away and a newfound dread struck her in the knees. The secret doorway was opening. Subsequent screeches of metal grinding against metal ensued, evidencing her fear that the other doors were following suit. Eventually the one straight in front of her was no exception.

She tightened her grasp on her pistol. She looked through its sights to the tunnel beyond whose dark depths were slowly being exposed. The door stopped once it had opened a crack. Within the low light of the passage, what she almost mistook for a long beak peered inside. The comparatively brighter ceiling lights of the room peeled away its cover so that she saw it for what it was: the barrel of an assault rifle.

She relaxed a little, enough to lower her sidearm though not enough to holster it.

The rifle carefully scanned the immediate space in front of it before withdrawing. The muted thumps of the security doors sealing shut echoed from the tunnel. As they closed, whoever was behind the last one pushed it open even further. There were a few strains and grunts from the other side.

A bit more effort opened the way for the first person to step inside. She swiftly recognized the battle-dress uniform of an Army trooper. He spotted her as well, his foot stopping on the threshold the moment their eyes made contact.

He eyed the two guns aimed tentatively in his direction. Although he didn't raise his own, he lifted a hand towards them, signaling for them not to shoot. They lowered their sidearms fully in return.

He called to someone out of sight. "Heads up, two civvies inside. Armed, non-hostile. Move in."

The soldier strode forward. Two more shadowed him inside one after the other. They fanned out across the room, glancing at her and Sára but paying them little heed. As there was little to see, the leader of the group moved off towards the kitchen. He had hairy features including thick eyebrows that took on a questioning curve. Further below them was a prominent chin supporting a goatee, one whose shape had framed a wary frown.

He stopped at the doorway. "Is it just you two?"

"Got a body here." One of the other two reported. Erica looked out and saw that they were peeping through the curtain where Mitchell was. A flare of anger left her uneasy. She was ready to tell them off, to shew them away.

The leader must have sensed it. He pointed to the troopers and waved for them to leave it alone. As they backed off, he gestured over to the main entrance.

"Room's clear. Bring them in."

A fourth soldier stepped halfway inside from the passageway. At his ushering, three persons dashed in.

Erica took them for an odd trio.

An adult man and two teenagers, a boy and a girl.

The former sported a suit and tie that might have hidden his age were it not for the middling baldness that had claimed his head. The same went for the sharp features restrained beneath a pair of glasses and a beard bearing the whitening touch of time. His suit, business-like, had also seen better days.

The two teenagers were no less worse for wear.

The girl's hair, blonder than her own, was weaved into a braided bun whose texture was frizzy at best, giving her an anxious look. What was beneath the bangs was hardly any better. Coffee brown eyes shifted left and right from wall to wall in a nervous dance. A lightly freckled face, one she would have considered young and pretty, almost a mirror of her own years, was so tense that she looked like someone twice her age. Her white-knuckle grasp on the straps of her backpack said much about how well her day was going.

However, what Erica found truly striking, even concerning, was the boy.

In fact, she wasn't sure if he actually was a boy. Shoulders squared, hands tightened into fists at his side, though he lacked the full build of a man, he certainly had the bearing of one. Two more things that he seemed to lack, though just barely, were the height and the face. Beneath a crop of jet-black hair were young yet stern jaws locked in a scowl. The weight of two furrowed brows pressed down on a pair of bluish, steely gray marbles that moved to and fro around the room. They appeared nearly blind from the shadows cast by his hair or, perhaps on some level, from the darkness that seemed to exude from them. Their every movement seemed purposeful. When they met hers, they tightened with suspicion. She felt the urge to look away and quickly followed it.

The fourth soldier resealed the main door while their leader moved to meet the original residents.

"Is there anyone else in here other than you two, ma'am?"

On cue, Noah stood up like a meerkat. He shrunk away to her side and she held him close.

"It's just us three." She replied. "We were five before we got here, but..."

The man nodded. "I understand."

After sizing them up, he held out a hand. "Corporal McPherson, 145th Infantry."

Erica reached out and shook. "Erica. I'm-...I was the manager of this hotel." She pointed to Noah and Sára in turn. "This is my son and-"

"Sára, Sára Sorvad." Sára said with a smidge of pride.

Any impression her name might have had was lost on the corporal as he appeared more interested in Erica. "Manager? So, you were this site's liaison with Lieutenant Walker?"

Noah perked up. "You knew...Mr. Walker?"

McPherson set his eyes on him and Erica hugged him closer. The behavior caused the corporal to turn his sights back on her, now bearing an air of suspicion.

"You were one of his men?" She asked.

"We're with Hunter Company, 1st Battalion. He's our CO. We were stationed here a few days prior to the Covenant showing up, remember?"

Erica went quiet.

Noah was quite the opposite and ventured further in a way only a child could. "Were you his friends?"

The question earned an arched brow from McPherson. Erica set a hand on her son's shoulder, gesturing him to silence.

"Ma'am, do you know something we don't?"

Her hesitation garnered a few interested looks from the other soldiers. She caught a grim glance from Sára which pushed her to answer.

"The lieutenant's gone." She said simply. She still couldn't stop a bitter edge from entering her voice.

A wave of expressions rushed through McPherson's group. Their leader wasn't spared either. It wasn't disbelief, rather a sense of a long-held fear finally confirmed.

Jaws clenched, the corporal nodded again, his solid demeanor oozing a bitterness that outmatched her own. "...How did he die? Do you know?"

"Drones." Erica replied.

"He saved me." Noah added. "He stayed behind so I could get away."

The unintentional harshness of the man's glare made him bury his head back into her side. There was a muffled "I'm sorry."

At length McPherson shook his head. "I figured. We couldn't raise anyone here on our communications. Even then, I didn't think the whole thing would've fallen apart like this. Not this fast."

He'd said the last part under his breath, something Erica latched onto. "You said you were with Hunter company?"

"That's right, 6th Platoon."

"So, are there more of you?" She asked hopefully. "The rest of your platoon maybe?"

"Ma'am, that right there is my platoon." He pointed to his three men.

The realization knocked the newly discovered wind back out of her sails.

"Believe it or not, there were 30 of us before everything went sideways." He added, huffing as he did. "Walker had ordered us to take care of the evacuations on the roof. My squad and I, what's left of us, were tasked with getting the most important HVIs out of here at the earliest opportunity. Speaking of which,"

The corporal pointed to the man in the suit. "Care to introduce yourself, sir?"

He smiled and strode briskly, albeit uncertainly towards Erica. He shook her hand. "Azimoth, Mihály Azimoth. UEG rep-"

"UEG representative for Viery." She finished. "You work at the consulate downtown, right?"

He smiled more abashedly. "So, you've heard of me? That is surprising to be honest. Since the UNSC took over, no one's really cared for politics on the civilian-side of things."

"I like to keep up with the news, sir." She shook his hand more firmly. In another time, a better time even, it would have been the same as shaking hands with a president. Colonial politicians hardly had the same sway as they used to before the war.

Azimoth proudly straightened up his dirt-stained collar. "It's a rarity to be sure but it's nice to know someone still cares for democratic principles these days," His face fell by a subtle fraction. "If there's any future left for them to begin with. Anyways, enough about that. Corporal?"

"A Banshee shot our Pelican out from under us while we were trying to take off." McPherson continued. "Sent us flying straight into a building. Where was that again, the one we hit?"

"I think I saw a couple signs saying the 'Herzl Heritage Center'." One of his men replied.

Erica knew the name. The building was in the same neighborhood as the Csillagos. "You guys didn't get very far."

"Because those Banshees got the drop on us." Another trooper piped in. "We would've been out of here if it wasn't for them."

"Wait." Sára said, drawing every eye to her quizzical face.

She seemed to be connecting a few dots.

"I think I saw that. I was there." A tinge of anger entered her voice. "Your pilot almost ran me over."

The corporal looked apologetic. "Yeah, sorry about that. I can tell you this much. By that point he didn't really have much control over that thing." He sighed deeply. "I guess you saw more than we did though. Don't know if you stuck around to watch the rest but, like I said, we ended up crashing into the heritage center. Our dropship got lodged into the side of the building. Those of us who made the crash had to shoot our way through the cockpit."

"The only way out from the troop bay was down." The third trooper hissed as he sat on the floor near the door. He appeared relieved to feel the carpet beneath him like a man testing out a new bed. "I'm talking a good 20 stories down. Nothing like broken legs in the middle of a combat zone, am I right? The whole thing was on fire too. Our luck really went south back there, didn't it?"

"You could say that again." Another echoed, propping himself comfortably against the wall.

McPherson went on. "We'd been holding up in the building all day after that, trying to get in contact with forces here. We got nothing better than static."

He paused in reminiscence. A sudden memory made him turn to the two remaining elephants in the room.

Despite her haggardness, the girl managed a personable smile which was more than could be said for the boy.

"We found these two sneaking through the streets last night. I don't have a clue how they got as far as they did out there on their own but we pulled them in once we spotted them."

"Good thing we found them when we did." A trooper said, giving the pair a side-eye. "Any later and they wouldn't have made it here."

Erica didn't register what he said right away. Her attention was elsewhere.

The boy.

She was beginning to realize why he was so worrying.

She had seen that look plenty of times before on some of Noah's classmates. At other times, though years of experience had taught him how to hide it better, she had even seen it on her own husband. Thanks to them, she knew the signs relatively well and saw them for what they were. She could tell both by the boy's expressions and mannerisms that this was not his first encounter with the Covenant. Quite the opposite.

She could say the same of the girl though to a less certain degree. Of the two of them, she, much like Duncan, seemed to be better at hiding it. Erica chalked it up to her own recent experiences allowing her to pick up on the difference.

That revelation aside, her mind returned to what she'd overheard. "Wait, you said you almost came here without them. You knew about this safe room in advance? How?"

"Mr. Azimoth," McPherson called. "If you would?"

"Right." The UEG rep reached into his pocket and fished out a silver ID card. "You already know who I am but you might not know what all I'm privy to because of it. This here is a universal access card. At least when it comes to safe rooms, once there's a state of emergency, I get alerted to any within my immediate vicinity regardless of if they're in civilian or government entities. So long as they're registered under municipal construction records, I get notified. I knew about this one before we left, well, tried to leave. I still thought it was worth it to try getting out of the city." He rubbed a fidgeting hand over his forehead to wipe off some sweat, and in so doing had drawn attention to a fresh scar. "I don't think I've ever been so wrong about anything in my life. Really, I'm just glad the card still works."

"We left the heritage center late last night." McPherson said. "The Covenant in the area had mostly moved on by then so we stood a better chance at sneaking in. We'd hoped we might still be able to link up with the lieutenant and anyone else that was left but...I guess not. We started working our way up here bit by bit. A Covie patrol spotted us right as we were getting into that clinic. We made a run for it. Can't tell you how happy I was to see that that wall out there isn't really a wall."

His sentiment was quietly shared by his squad. The whole room fell under a similar sense of relief. They had all survived far more than any of them had ever expected to. Erica thoroughly enjoyed the moment, finding it nigh on therapeutic. Whether they had come to save them or not, she was just happy to have the extra company. Armed company at that.

McPherson breathed out after a while and stared long and hard at the unfinished biscuits on the kitchen table. "You wouldn't happen to have anything 'cooked', would you?"

:********:

Noah was ready to cook for his mom, for Sára too, but not for a whole group. He was relieved to say the least when they dug through their pantry, or the sliding hole in the kitchen wall that passed for one. There were all sorts of things inside. Cans of meat, vegetables and beans along with a few other goodies were prepared on plates for their new guests. He ate pretty good too. He'd gone almost two days without food so getting it now made every forkful of corned beef taste like heaven.

He didn't know much about it but he wondered if everything else in heaven tasted that good.

He wondered if Mr. Mitchell had found out by now.

He wished he could still ask him about it.

He wished he could ask Ms. Turner the same thing. Sure, his mom had told him that she was okay. But if someone like Mr. Mitchell couldn't make it, even with everyone else by his side, then he doubted Ms. Turner had gotten very far on her own. He kept quiet about it. He didn't want his mom to fret about him any more than she already was. At least by the time he figured out what must have happened to Ms. Turner, he was too tired from crying for everyone else to show it. So it was just him now. Him, his mom, Sára and...

A combination of curiosity and boredom made him finish his plate faster than normal. He got up and dumped it in the kitchen sink. He came back out to take a look at what everyone else was up to.

Three of the soldiers were talking among themselves off in a corner of the room. Mr. Walker's friend was speaking with the bald man in the suit, 'Mr. Azimoff', over at the door. He spotted his mom and Sára sitting close to the room where Mr. Mitchell was. They almost looked like they were guarding it, trying to keep anyone from peeking inside again.

Then there was the pair who caught his eye the most.

The boy and girl, both older than he was, were the furthest away from everyone else. They sat against the wall together and were huddled close to their backpacks. The girl was still scraping the last grains of rice off her plate and into her mouth. The boy however hadn't so much as touched his. He had left it on the floor with the same amount of food as he had received it with. He held his legs close to his chest. All the while he stared at the floor as if it had taken his lunch money, or maybe the other way around.

Their faces were dirty. That must have been the problem, Noah thought. He went back into the kitchen, wet two small towels with the faucet, then came back.

The older boy's stare slowly panned up to him as he walked towards them. Noah stopped just out of arm's reach and held up what he had.

"Yyyyyou-, you guys want to clean up?"

The boy didn't even blink. "No."

Noah was struck by the firmness of his answer. It didn't make any sense. They were dirty. Didn't they want to clean up?

The girl however shot him a glare that he paid no heed to. She then offered Noah an apologizing smile.

"So sorry about that." She said softly. "Don't mind him, he's just a jerk on the best of days. Can I have one?"

"Sure." He handed one over.

As she wiped the grime off her face, he was struck once again by how different the two seemed to be. So why were they together then? Were they friends? Brother and sister maybe? They didn't look alike. They sure didn't act alike either. Then again, he figured this was his first time meeting them. Maybe they needed a little ice breaker.

The girl reached out for the next one. "Can I have that one too?"

Noah gave it to her. She ceased her own handheld shower to side-eye the boy before ultimately holding it out to him.

He didn't react.

She shook it, gesturing for him to take it.

He glanced between her and it. Noah could practically feel the stubbornness dripping off the guy.

Again, the girl shook it, this time more forcefully. She was almost commanding him to take it. He didn't budge.

Instead of waving it around again, she suddenly pressed the towel into his face, almost slapping him as she rubbed the dirt off his cheek. He ripped it out of her hand. There was a fierce stare down between the two before the boy scrutinized the cloth. Without any outward sign of it, he relented and began wiping off as if it had never been an issue.

For the girl's part, she stopped halfway through clearing her face. Noah thought to tell her that she still had a few spots left when he realized, albeit a bit late, that they were freckles. They were faint but they were there. She was pretty. She wasn't Emma but being as young as he was had never stopped him from recognizing it in the older crowd.

Sadly, that line of thought served to remind him of something that he would rather have left alone. What ever happened to Emma anyway? Where was she? Was she still okay? Did she find a safe room too? His doubts about Ms. Turner began bleeding over into his newest worries.

"You okay?" The girl asked.

Noah sensed her genuine concern and managed a polite nod. "I'm fine. How about you guys? Are you..."

The boy was still cleaning and made no move to answer so the girl did in his stead. "We're fine. Just a little shaken up is all."

"I heard you were on the streets when the soldiers found you. How'd you make it through all that on your own?"

Now it was the girl's turn to be standoffish. Her mouth lay open, waiting for words that proved more stubborn than her friend. The latter's cleaning ended abruptly. He peeled the towel off his face. All that cleaning hadn't wiped away his expression. However, his face was clear enough for Noah to see how much they looked nothing like each other. There was no resemblance whatsoever.

Noah tried a different tact. "Umm, what-, what's your...name?"

Nothing.

He was lost as to what else he could ask. Then out the corner of his eye he noticed that a few zippers on the boy's backpack were left open. He must have been digging through it. In the darkness of one of the compartments a black and white face peeked out from the inside. Not a face really, more like a circle. The honeycomb pattern over its surface struck a chord.

It was a soccer ball.

It was old too judging by the dirt that had faded into the rubber.

He was as happy to see it as he was confused. He wanted to play with it. At the same time, he was troubled by it. Why in the world would they pack a soccer ball when they were running for their lives? What had they been doing out there? More than ever, he wanted to know.

"So," he began. "How did-"

"We lost our parents." The girl finally answered.

"You're brother and sister?" He asked disbelievingly.

"No-no, we-, well..."

Noah nearly missed a sharp glare from the boy that made her rethink whatever it was she was about to say.

"We know each other." She added, more like an excuse than an explanation. "We got lost when the Covenant attacked the city so we decided to stick together. We hid in a few buildings here and there. We were trying to get somewhere we thought more soldiers would be when we ran into these guys." She pointed over to the ones that had brought them inside.

"Good thing we did." She continued, holding up her empty plate as well as a thankful grin. "Otherwise, we might've missed out on some great food, am I right?"

The boy gave no overt reply.

Noah was beginning to wonder if he had a serious problem. Maybe being out on the streets like that had cracked his brain? He couldn't blame him for it if it did. The same thing had almost happened to him more than once while he was in the vents. Nevertheless, he couldn't excuse the way the guy was coming off. He was giving the cold shoulder even to someone he knew. The girl was all he had. If they really were family, or something like it, then he shouldn't have been so closed off.

The girl backed off from her point with an explosive sigh. "We tagged along with the soldiers because we'd hoped they would take us to a dropship. We thought they'd get us out of here."

"They didn't." The boy said, his grim matter-of-factness both terse and brief.

"Yeah." She admitted. "They didn't. And now-"

"Now we're stuck in the middle of some random room where no one will ever find us." He declared, turning warily to her. "You still think it was worth tagging along? If we went where I said we should've gone, we would've been flying out of here by now."

"If we'd gone the way you wanted, we'd be dead by now."

A powerful BANG vibrated through the whole room. It came from the door, specifically from the tunnel outside of it. The soldiers were the first to react. Mr. Walker's friend called for two of them and pointed to the door. The pair got to either side of it and kept watch.

At last, the boy shrugged. "So, I guess it's better to just die later with more people around then? Is that right?"

The girl groaned. "Just shut up."

"You only say that when you know I'm right."

"I only say that when I want you to shut up."

The two shared in another stare down.

"You know I'm right; you just don't want to admit it." He leaned back against the wall, folded his arms behind his head and shut his eyes. "I guess it doesn't matter anymore. No one's looking for us except the Covies. No one else is coming for us either."

"That's not true." Noah interjected.

The boy blinked up at him like he'd forgotten he was there. "What's not true?"

"That nobody's coming for us."

"...What're you-"

"My dad's coming for us."

The boy gaped at him for a moment. Seeing that Noah wouldn't back down, he glowered at him. "Your dad's...coming to save us?"

"Yup."

"...You really think so?"

"I know so."

Nodding to himself, a muted cackle slipped through his scowl. "You're funny, kid, seriously. I guess your dad's a comedian or something 'cause that's the best joke I've heard all day."

A fire caught alight in Noah's chest. "What's so funny? Is yours not coming for you?"

The cackling died in the boy's throat with an abruptness that seemed unnatural. Noah watched him raise his head like it was anchored by some giant weight until his glare found him again.

There was no expression on his face. But his eyes...

Noah stifled a shiver of fear. He wasn't sure if there was something more to what he had asked. He stood his ground nonetheless.

Soon the tension became so much that the soldiers at the door peered over at them.

"Anyway," The girl interjected. "Let's talk about something else." She glimpsed at the curtained room. "Can we go in there? It'll give us a little bit more space to cool down, you know?"

Noah shook his head, never taking his eyes off the other guy. "Mr. Mitchell's in there."

"Well, can we ask him if we can use it?"

Noah shook his head again.

"Don't you remember?" The boy cut in. "That's the one they said was dead."

'Dead'.

The word alone almost set Noah off. Still, he restrained himself. There was no point in fighting each other. Another loud BANG far outside the door reminded him why.

"Oh." The girl said somberly. "Was he you're-, um, did you know him?"

Noah nodded. "He was my friend."

"I see. I'm...sorry about your friend."

"I'm sorry about yours."

The boy's glare heated up and Noah was sure he was about to get on his feet. But he didn't. He too appeared to understand that taking a swing at him would be pointless.

"What does your dad do that you're so sure he even remembers you're here?"

"He's an ODST." Noah said with as much pride as defiance. "My aunts and uncles are ODSTs too. They won't forget us. They don't forget anyone."

The bluish gray marbles that the boy called eyes tensed at the mention of ODSTs. Then for some reason they widened a tad, as if he was seeing him for the first time, before narrowing even further. Noah sensed a change in his guest. The anger was ebbing from his demeanor. However, it was replaced by a deeper curiosity, one laced through and through with something that he couldn't quite describe.

"What's your name?"

The question caught Noah off guard. He wasn't sure why it mattered when neither of the pair would answer him on that front. Regardless, he saw where his leverage lay.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours, both of you."

The boy didn't answer so he likewise refused to back down.

After a long exhale, the girl stopped pinching her temples and looked up at him, her smile making a return.

"Christa."

"Nice to meet you." He glanced over at the boy who answered with nothing more than a grimace.

"Trust me, I think that's all you're going to get out of him." Christa said and held out a hand. "And you?"

He reached out and shook it. "Noah."

"Noah what?" The boy demanded.

He returned his grimace in kind. "Trust me, that's all you're going to get out of me."

For a long while the two were a mirror image of each other, a scowling reflection that refused to crack.

"Noe?" He heard his mom call. He turned and found her and Sára watching him from where they sat.

He took one last look at the boy then rounded on the friendlier of the two. "It was nice meeting you, Christa. You too, Gray-eyed soccer boy."

"Gray what?" The boy hissed, sneaking a worried glance at his backpack.

"Nice meeting you too, Noah." Christa giggled. "And hey, sorry about the rough start back there. Listen, it's looking like we'll only have each other in here. If you want someone to talk to, don't be a stranger, okay stranger?"

Noah came close to laughing, tossing her a grin as he left. However, he was hardly a few steps away when he heard Gray Eyes speaking under his breath.

"I don't know if he is."

:********:

Erica had been paying close attention for part of the exchange between her son and the two teens. She discerned the tension building up on that side of the room. Before long, she had called him over to her and Sára. The last thing they needed, that she needed, was to have to throttle somebody else's child for trying to score a punch on her own. She was grateful that it didn't get that far.

Noah, however, didn't get very far either before the voice of Mr. Azimoth stopped everyone in their tracks.

"Wait a minute!" He yelled, pulling himself back to his feet and marching straight to Erica. "Ms. Manager, I need to speak with you. I have a question I need answered right away."

Erica arose, slightly confused. "Yes?"

"These lights, these doors, this whole room, they run on the same power source, right?"

"That's right."

"A dedicated generator unit isolated from the rest of the building, correct?"

McPherson came forward. "Mr. Azimoth?"

"It's important, corporal. Trust me." He turned back to Erica, desperately awaiting her answer.

"Hold on." She drew out her datapad and used a few swipes of her finger to pull up the room's schematics.

Azimoth stepped closer to look for himself. He zeroed in on one spot in particular and pointed to it. "There. Where is that?"

"That is..." Erica knew exactly where it was. She was hesitant however to say it. "Can I ask what this is about, Mr. Azimoth?"

"Rescue." He said like the word was a sufficient explanation in and of itself. And it was.

She surrendered whatever reservations she had left and went where the schematics directed. She led the way, brushing aside the curtain that guarded the room in question.

It was frigid inside. She had kept it that way for its sole occupant who remained still beneath the sheet that she'd left for him. She made sure they kept a respectful distance as she brought Mr. Azimoth and the corporal to the wall on the other side. She pressed an icon on her pad. A resulting beep responded from a part of the wall from which the outlining seams of a square appeared.

McPherson reached in with two fingers and pried open the small door, uncovering the birdhouse-sized alcove inside. A metallic box stared back at them from within. On its face, an array of cylindrical components, outlets and other mechanisms pulsated with light and sound.

Azimoth reached into his pocket and brought out a thumb-sized device. It looked like a wafer of silicon. There was a small glass housing in the middle of it that Erica guessed to be an indicator light, an inactive one to boot.

"This is my personal rescue beacon." Azimoth said, inspecting its glimmering facets in the light. "I wanted to use it after we crashed. I wound up finding out that it had gotten fried on the way down, some kind of EMP effect from all that plasma hitting the Pelican."

"You'd think they would've given someone as important as you something more robust." McPherson noted.

"You'd think so, but as a rep for a world that might not exist tomorrow, I can't imagine I'm more important than anyone else here." Azimoth thumbed the device into the air like a coin and caught it in his palm with equal ceremony. "Let's hope I'm wrong."

He pointed to the generator. "That right there is our best chance of turning this thing back on. I'm not too good with this kind of tech myself, but if we can figure out how to use this to replace the beacon's power source, I should be able to activate it. It'll put out a special HVI signal on any UNSC detection systems. If anyone's nearby, they'll hear it loud and clear."

"How much is 'nearby'?" Erica asked.

"About 5-kilometers."

Though she didn't voice it outright, she felt her heartbeat speed up with anticipation.

McPherson considered it as well. "That'll run the risk of attracting more Covenant. No matter which way you put it, UNSC frequencies don't remain secure for long when it comes to fights like Alexandria. Once they know we'll be a thorn in their side for a while, they start doing everything they can to listen in."

Erica's hopes foundered and drowned just as quickly as they'd been given breath.

"Think about it, corporal." Azimoth argued. "Listen to what's going on outside. Tell me how long you think it'll be before those things get in here anyway?"

In emphasis, another loud BANG echoed from the tunnel, no closer than before yet closer still than Erica could have ever feared.

"It might take a while, but they will eventually." Azimoth said.

"He's right." She parroted. "Those doors won't hold forever. They're made of the same stuff as what the Navy has. You would know better than me but, as great as it sounds, it never really gives us an easier time in space, does it?"

Another BANG caused McPherson to slowly shake his head. "Lahey, get in here!"

One of his men jogged inside, the same one who had complained the most about their crash.

The corporal pointed him to the generator. "We've got a fried beacon here as well as a way to power it. Can you work some magic?"

Lahey came up to the generator and looked between it and the beacon. He gestured to the latter. "Do you know if it can charge wirelessly?"

"I believe so." Azimoth answered.

"Great, then let's get started." Lahey took the beacon from him. Faster than Erica could follow, he used a small tool to screw it open. The penny-like battery inside of it was thrown out and the housing screwed shut. Lahey placed the beacon close to the generator. He then reached in and began tampering with the interfaces of the larger device as one would a microwave. The generator reacted like one as well.

Its lights dimmed, scintillated then rebounded. The lighting inside the room also dimmed before returning to normal.

After a few seconds, the beacon's indicator light switched on. It started off at a sluggish glimmer of red illumination then flashed to a stable yellow. It was ready. So was the small button at its base.

"There's no turning back from here, sir." McPherson said. "You're sure about this?"

Another BANG shook the walls of the room.

"I'm surer of what will happen if we don't." Azimoth said and pressed the button, changing the indicator light from a stable yellow to a flickering, noiseless green.

A silence passed within the group as they watched the beacon begin its work, securing their lifeline to the outside world. Then the UEG representative gave voice to the one thought on everyone's mind.

"Let's hope someone's got their ears open out there."

Spes - Hope