Chapter 34 – Amare
August 19th, 2552 - (16:42 Hours - Military Calendar)
Epsilon Eridani System, Reach
Viery Territory, New Alexandria
NA Starport
:********:
New Alexandria's starport was a mess. By the time 1st Platoon came within visual range, dozens of aircraft had flocked to its protection. The outer lawn of grayish black tarmac wound around the eastern face of the starport. It was separated into two segments, the longest one on the north side and the widest one on the south, by the pipe-wrench shaped layout of the building. It always had a habit of reminding Duncan of a backwards letter 'F'.
Several commercial starships were present that hadn't had the chance to leave since the siege began. Three of the spearhead shaped craft were docked on the south side, two sitting at designated lines within the mouth of the starport's embarkation zone. Another sat at one of the site's marked off landing zones whose directional arrows vaguely resembled the insignia of a master sergeant. Two more of the craft sat idle on the north side, unmoving yet ready for use. Even more of the tarmac was covered in lines of metal luggage containers that would attach to the starships' underbellies when in use, though they seemed more haphazardly scattered about than usual. Much of the rest of the space was submerged beneath a hive of smaller UNSC aircraft.
Duncan spotted dozens of Falcons and Pelicans either parked on whatever available room they could find or hovering over areas about to be vacated. He'd heard that the starport had become a major refueling post for aircraft operating nonstop out of the city for the last two days. Even Kilo-9-2 and 9-4 had been in and out of the locale several times already. Yet another reason why they couldn't afford to lose it.
As they drew closer, Duncan could make out the level of activity on the ground. It looked like an angry ants' nest. Scores of personnel were moving about the tarmac. Many were shifting here and there along the defenses that had been erected around the apron's perimeter fences. Others, namely airmen, were overseeing the service teams that linked fuel lines to their vehicles like pit crews at a race car track.
There were a few more dropships further back. They had found room on the hilly forestlands west of the starport. A similar scene played out in reverse as groups of civilians streamed out from open cargo bays. Squads of soldiers guided them along pre-planned routes, crossing over the grass and the shadows of tree cover towards the front of the building.
Overlooking everything was the starport's air traffic control tower which loomed up from its center like the mast of a giant ship. The station at its peak was a crew's nest of observational windows and an unobstructed, 360-degree view of the surrounding area. It was through the flight controllers of the tower that some sense of order was imposed upon the chaos.
Kilo-9-2 and 9-4 communicated with the air traffic control as their small squadron made the approach from the south.
It had been a tense flight at best. The incoming rainfall from the corvettes had forced them to stay low. They crept northward along the winding path of the Hornád River, sticking within the shadows of the buildings and plateaus on its western banks. Doing so had kept them off the radar of the two corvettes that were the closest to the northern sectors of the city. The twin ships were too caught up in laying waste to the skies to focus on their trio, a group flying so close to the river that they might as well have been sailing.
As soon as they were within range of the starport, the control tower guided them on the last leg of their journey. Their flight path led them towards a small plot of space on the south side of the tarmac.
Drawing closer, they passed through a narrow sound that bridged the shallow, cerulean waters of the Hornád with the deeper cobalt of New Alexandria's harbor.
Off to their right, the waves lapped against the sedimental shores of Caracalla Park. Caracalla's hilly environ jutted out into the harbor, dotted with boulders, trees and pockets of urbanization. Further back, a series of buildings descended like a staircase from the rocky mesa that lined the coast, ending at a pavilion that sat at the heart of the park. A roofed walkway went out from it, crossing over to a spacious patio area that sat atop a small plateau close to the harbor. A bridge arced out from the latter to connect to a similar patio just a short walk away.
Despite the ordinary look of decorative plants and public seating, Duncan picked out the UNSC presence on the patios. Each one had an M95 Lance missile battery sitting in a prominent position. Both were quiet. Their silent vigil overlooked the coast, one matched only by the natural statues of tall limestone rock that stood guard around the shore. A few Army forces were scattered about the area. However, most had established themselves behind sandbagged positions further back at the pavilion.
He wondered why they'd deactivated the M95s, or at least he did until he remembered how quickly the corvettes would've pounced on them. So little anti-aircraft fire was coming against them from the ground that it would have painted a big fat bullseye, not just on Caracalla but on the nearby starport as well.
The Falcons along with Devilraid turned left, leaving the park behind as they began their final descent.
Duncan glimpsed the northern horizon. Against the evening light he spotted the silhouettes of the Delphi Triple Strand Network. The trio of orbital elevators stood as baleful specters, skeletal remains of old scarecrows of whom time had stripped of their namesake, leaving the crows to pillage the harvest as they pleased.
He didn't want to imagine what kind of catastrophe awaited the city if the Covenant went after them. But a nagging suspicion whispered into his ears, telling him that it was no longer a matter of 'if' but 'when'.
The starport circled back into view.
The landing zone was going to put them near one of the commercial starships. Several servicemen had to clear the way, some pushing aside a crate that had to be dealt with at the last minute.
Devilraid was the first to touch down, its size granting it the lion's share of the available room. Kilo-9-2 and 9-4 came next, making a soft landing on either side of it. Epsilon jogged out from beneath the shrill hum of rotors towards the rear of the dropship. Devilraid's bay door popped open and commenced a steady descent to the ground. The second it was down; Whiskey came striding out. Corporal McPherson came next, supporting a wounded Lahey as he limped forward. The others followed, reemerging into the light of day in a daze, the kind Duncan had learned to associate with post-combat blues.
Erica and Noah were last. Both looked unsteady on their feet. He took a step and stopped. The young woman who'd tagged along with them came up to help. She took both by the hand and went ahead, helping them down the rest of the way to the tarmac. Duncan depolarized his visor, flashing her a look of appreciation as he came over, only to be stopped once again. A new Nav point had appeared on his HUD.
"Haul it in, 1st Platoon." The Staff ordered. "Regroup at that transporter. Let's take a knee. Corporal, get everyone inside. Closest entrance is on your left."
McPherson traced where he was pointing to the central wing of the building. There, past the tangle of landed aircraft, a number of the doors on the ground floor yawned open.
"Thanks for the help, staff sergeant. If we get a chance to pay you back-"
"Don't worry about that. This whole place is turning into a death trap. Best you can do is worry about getting yourselves and that HVI out of here, copy?"
"Copy. Good luck Helljumpers."
As the corporal got his men moving, Lahey waved goodbye. "See you guys in a sec."
Duncan couldn't help sensing a prophetic note behind the words. He saw Erica and Noah hesitate to go with them. They were still watching him, waiting for his assurance that he wouldn't be far behind. A quiet nod gave them the promise they were looking for. Erica gained the fortitude to walk on her own. She took Noah's hand in hers and left, though their little boy lagged behind every so often to see when he would follow.
So did the two teens.
Further ahead, he saw them glancing over their shoulders at the platoon, at him. Both seemed rather curious about him for some reason, one of them with an intensity that he could neither describe nor understand. He left it alone once he saw them walk off. They were kids in the middle of a war zone. Given the situation, he figured that their absent parents had a big part to play in it.
He joined the others on an exhausted jog towards their new rallying point.
Whatever of the starport's apron wasn't occupied by aircraft had been divided into a labyrinth of sandbag walls and defense barriers. The trench network of meter-tall walls had a few roadways formed into them in order to streamline the passage of those going in and out. The platoon moved along the closest of these to a baggage cart parked at its end. The empty vehicle occupied a good deal of room, giving them the space they needed for a meeting.
The Staff propped himself against it while the others gathered around him. "I'll keep this short. You heard the colonel over the battalion freq. We're going to shelter in place until either something gets done about those corvettes or we get new orders. With the way things are going, don't be surprised if those two end up being one in the same. Until then..." he paused to look around. "Help where you can, restock your supplies and get some R&R. We'll regroup here in a few hours, or sooner if need be."
"Does this officially count as shore leave, sir?" Zack asked.
The Staff shook his head with slow disappointment. "God, I hope not. And you, get that radio replaced asap. I need to send a report to Captain Eddies before he starts worrying about where we've gotten off to. Everyone else, fall out. Get some rest."
The platoon dispersed gratefully, although aimlessly. They broke off into small groups or lone stragglers that drifted here and there from the landing zone, heading off to what looked like outdoor supply depots scattered about the apron.
Duncan wasn't one to meander, not when he still needed to check on something, or someone. He jogged straight for Terminal A, the middlemost section of the starport.
Halfway there, Nova comm'd him. "Wait up, D. We're coming with."
He stopped at a small junction and spotted Nova, Rico and Zack jogging after him.
"The others said they'll stop by later." Rico said.
"We just want to make sure they're alright." Nova added.
Duncan nodded.
He waited for them to catch up before getting back underway. They carried on, crossing through a motor pool of newly arrived Warthogs, some of which were still being dropped off by hovering Pelicans.
A few more turns later and they were free of the mire of sandbags. They emerged out onto a stretch of open tarmac that had been left around the main building. The glass doors of Terminal A had been turned into an armed checkpoint. A pair of manned machinegun nests sat on either side, securing the entrance with overlapping fields of fire in the event of a ground attack. The squads of soldiers patrolling the area were quick to let them through however, and they passed inside.
The interior was a wash of white. White floors, white walls, white lights.
The northernmost wing of the terminal that they'd stepped into possessed a distinct U-shape. It was divided into six floors, each encompassed with dark blue windows that viewed the world outside. Glass railings walled the upper floors, hemming in the hundreds that occupied the rows of seats and flooring like sheep's pens. While crowds of people sat or idled about overhead like waiting rain clouds, the ground floor was a lake of humanity, of denim jeans, torn jackets, dirtied shirts and bruised faces. Here, worry and anxiety were a spectrum and they manifested in a way that was personalized to each individual. Some were more obvious, sitting against the walls with faces buried in their knees. Others showed steadfast demeanors to questioning children who didn't know any better, not recognizing them for the guises they were.
Duncan and the others turned onto a central walkway that had been left clear for the sake of movement. As they followed it towards the center of the building, he overheard some of the chatter going on around them.
Like always, there were a few eyes turning their way, soldier and civilian alike. The ODST BDU made them stick out like needles in a murmuring haystack. Only a fully clad Spartan could've stolen the show.
Against the grain of so many conversations, Duncan would occasionally hear a familiar phrase:
"It'll be alright."
He'd heard it hundreds of times before on scores of worlds.
Most of the time, they were the words of parents spoken to their children.
Most of the time they were wrong.
And now he was on his way to repeat them.
They took a right and came into a more spacious though equally crowded atrium. Several floors up, the glass dome of the ceiling spanned down its length like the topside of a blimp. The light coming through it cast deep shadows off the support columns that rose up from the ground floor all the way to the top.
A security room lay off to the right. Passing by, he spotted the handful of Army personnel standing around inside.
Corporal McPherson was there. Both he and those of his men that could stay on their feet stood at attention in front of a commanding officer, a captain judging by the lone star on his shoulder pauldron. The man seemed to be debriefing them. A row of seats lay beside them. There sat the UEG representative. Flanked by a guard of several soldiers, Azimoth appeared lost in some troubling thought. Then he spotted the group of ODSTs. A grateful look and a thankful nod weren't far behind.
They came to another stop near the center of the atrium. An interior garden of flowers and decorative trees came up ahead of them. Duncan looked further on, scanning the masses for a familiar face.
Then he found them.
On the other side of the garden, deep within one of the seating areas, was his family.
He hesitated.
He wanted to go to them, to talk. But he feared what he would hear, what they would say.
A strangling cocktail of worry and anticipation finally drove him on. He checked in on the others. They were holding back, standing off to the wayside.
"Go on ahead." Nova said.
"A little privacy never hurt anybody." Rico insisted.
Zack shrugged. "Just hurry up. I want to see how my nephew's doing."
Duncan smiled at them, a quiet thanks, and got moving again.
:********:
Sára wasn't sure what would come next.
Rescue had been on the table barely half an hour ago. The same with their safety.
To say she had either of those at the moment would have been the lie of the century. They had been rescued. They were safer than they were before. The crowds of the living sheltering around them were better company than the dead they had left behind in the hotel. So too were the squads of soldiers that stood at special checkpoints around the atrium or patrolled watchfully down the walkways. All the same, they were never really watching the civilians under their charge. The same went for those they were meant to guard.
Both were more distracted by the glass dome overhead than by each other, or specifically the sky above it. The evening clouds had become sparser. Though it allowed in more of the sun, they were still wary, on their toes for any sign of a cloud that wasn't a cloud at all.
UNSC and Covenant aircraft buzzed by regularly. Most were en route to different battle zones throughout the city, although some would pause to engage each other. Small dog fights would lead to the parties involved either breaking off, calling in nearby backup for assistance or gunning down the victor as their burning remains plummeted to the ground. More than once Sára had seen a Banshee vanish in a puff of debris or a Falcon shoot away from its pursuers, escaping into the skyline or falling away in a ballet of smoke. More than once, she was afraid that they would come crashing down on top of her.
They never did, though they were the least of her concerns.
The Covenant ships took up the bulk of her thoughts, of everyone's thoughts. No one was saying it, but they were conveying it every time they murmured amongst themselves or glanced up at the sky.
Through an act of sheer will, one of many she'd made for the day, Sára peeled herself away from the skylight. The seating area she was in was one of a handful of emptier spots that her and Erica had found, an overflow from those already filled to capacity. Those sitting around them were mostly keeping to themselves. She didn't see the two teens they'd come in with though. The pair went off on their own shortly after they came inside. It was for the best, she thought, given how ready the boy seemed to get away from everyone else. She had caught him staring hard at Erica and Noah on the ride to the starport. He couldn't take his eyes off them. Strangely enough, neither could his friend Christa.
Something was going on there. She wasn't sure what, but it was there.
She doubted she'd be seeing them again unless it was on an outgoing transport. She still clung to the hope that they would get that chance. A bit of tension on a departure flight surely beat the alternatives, four of which were haunting New Alexandria from above.
Noah sat in her lap. She was hugging him close, something that kept him calm amidst the muted clamor of the starport. He'd been asking for his dad again, demanding even. Erica had entrusted her with him while she went off to find something for his burns. Sára tried to keep his mind off of things by swaying him around every now again like a ship at sea. She remembered her dad always doing it to calm her down when she was younger. She even hummed a few verses of an old Hungarian folksong that he had taught her as a kid. The soft melodies of Spring Wind Floods Water had a rhythm to them that was restive at the best of times, saddening at the worst. The former worked for Noah. He was slowly drifting off, every so often getting out a slurred word or two. He was tired and she wanted to do her best to put him at ease, but the latter effect was taking its toll. The unsung lyrics got her thinking.
Once they left the starport, once they left Reach, where would they go?
Where would she go?
Who would she go to?
Who would she go with?
Her life had ended at Visegrád. There was nothing left for her there.
Her acceptance to the university on Earth wasn't to take effect for some time and she had nowhere to go until then. Could she stay with Erica and Noah? Would she end up on the streets like so many of the refugees from the outer colonies? Could she really live that way?
More than ever, she felt grateful for her small room at the relay. She missed it. It was never the most comfortable place with all the noise that went on there, but it was better than a concrete sidewalk.
Then another thought took over the last.
Would ONI even let her get that far?
Her custodians were dead. Nevertheless, the reason they'd kept her under wraps for so long was because of what she knew. As she listened to another Banshee being blown out of the sky overhead, she figured that it no longer mattered. The other part of the reason they'd watched her was as a favor for Dr. Halsey. She'd wanted to look out for her friend's daughter one last time. Besides that, they had no other reason to keep her on their radar. It's not like they suspected she knew more about her father's research than she was letting on.
Did they?
Erica's return saved her from the quagmire in her head. She came back with a small plastic bottle. She settled down on an opposing seat. By then, Noah was half conscious. She reached down and rolled up what was left of his pant legs. The splotches of reddened skin were still there.
"What'd you find?" Sára asked.
"Burn cream." Erica sighed. "I asked around a bit, found a medic willing to spare some."
She screwed off the cap and held the nozzle over her hand. With a squeeze, the milky goo poured out onto her palm.
She took Noah's feet and laid them on her knees before rubbing her hands together. "This is probably going to sting a little."
Sára understood. She slowly put her hand to Noah's mouth. Erica counted down. On three, she started applying the ointment.
The second the cream was smeared on his burns Noah shot awake. He screamed. Sára's fingers kept him muffled, her grip holding him steady, allowing Erica to finish the job. She was fast. A few seconds in and she was done, leaving parts of his legs with a glossy sheen. Noah had gone quiet halfway through. Both of them checked to see if he was okay.
He wasn't looking at them anymore but beyond them. They followed his gaze to the other end of the seating area.
An ODST stood there.
He reached up and took off his helmet, exposing the face behind the visor.
Sára had seen it once already at the Csillagos. She didn't know Duncan personally, but she had a good idea of what he meant to them.
She wasn't sure when Noah had gotten away from her. She just saw him running, ignoring whatever pain the cream might've caused as he sprinted straight into his dad's arms. Erica wasn't far behind. Getting up, she took hurried strides towards her husband, completing the reunion in one big embrace.
Sára was happy for them. After all the two of them had gone through, she couldn't help but smile. But then the memory of Visegrád crossed her mind. Her smile faltered and she remembered that she was alone again.
A hollow feeling at the center of her chest caught her off guard. She wasn't ready for the suddenness of it, the reminder that she was on her own. Nevertheless, she fought against it, hoping that her happiness for them might outweigh everything else.
Peering past them, she noticed three other ODSTs standing a ways from them with their helmets off. She figured they were Duncan's teammates, the same ones she had to thank for the rescue. She decided to do just that, betting that it would at least take her mind off of her situation.
Then without meaning to, she locked eyes with one of them, the one who'd almost been burned alive by his radio. She could tell because of the scorch marks on his armor.
His hair, though curly at the top and faded at the sides, was still frizzled and unkept. Unshaven stubble wrapped around his jaw. His face was bruised, dirty even.
And yet...
She quickly looked away once she realized she'd been staring. She stood up, brushed herself off and started towards them, suddenly finding herself struggling to remember why.
:********:
Erica was on her feet in a blink. Noah had seen him first and was faster, but she came in at a close second.
Duncan was here.
There were no bullets or plasma bolts flying around them, no giant aliens trying to kill them, no more rollercoaster rides on dropships. They weren't completely safe, but they were better off than they had been at the Csillagos. That was all she needed to know to let herself go.
Duncan used his free arm to lift their son as he wrapped around him. The other he quickly had to use to catch her as she practically jumped on him. The impact almost bowled him over. He groaned at first then let out a laugh as she got her arms around him.
"You know," He said. "I might look tough in all this gear, but I don't think I can lift the two of you at the same time."
She grinned, feeling tears cross her cheek as she nuzzled into his shoulder. "Too bad."
"You're not going anywhere this time." Noah grumbled; his voice muffled against the armor.
She couldn't see it since her eyes were shut but she could feel a slight trembling in her husband. It wasn't him struggling to keep them up. Hs breathing was shaking more than his arms were.
He pulled them closer.
She held him tighter.
"I missed you guys...so much."
Her smile widened. She let her feet return to the floor, freeing him of the weight.
She cupped his face in her hands like she had before. "I know."
She pulled him in and held him in a long kiss, the longest of her life, of their lives. The relief was instant. She could almost feel her memories of the last few days bleeding away, lifting the burden off her shoulders. Duncan pressed in and she lost herself in the moment, enjoying the fact that he was by her side again.
It was a long while before anyone said anything.
"Ew."
They finally pulled away and looked down at Noah.
He glared at them like they'd done something wrong. "Get a room, you two."
"What, you want one too?" Duncan laughed and tried to kiss him on the forehead.
Noah ducked away, laughing harder each time he dodged. The look on their faces lightened her heart. She couldn't help thinking of how they were when her little man was just a toddler, jealous of his mom for getting more attention from his dad.
At length, Duncan gestured to the chairs nearby. With Noah still clinging to him, he sat down on one side and waited for Erica to sit on the other. He was ready to say something. However, whatever it was got caught in his throat on the way out. He paused quizzically, as if wondering how wise it was to say aloud.
"Go ahead." Erica said. "There's plenty I want to ask you too."
His eyes widened a tad before leveling out again. A grateful smirk creased his lips. Shifting Noah to his lap, he clasped his hands together, resting his chin on his knuckles as he gathered his thoughts.
"The last time we talked...I was on a ship heading to Cygnus." He breathed in deeply. "Imagine my shock when they decided to turn us around, telling us we were being redeployed."
His eyes fell from hers to the floor. "Eri, if I'd known-"
"But you didn't." She cut in, knowing exactly where he was going. "Neither did we."
Duncan shook his head. "No. I knew."
Erica was taken aback. He knew? Knew what?
"What're you talking about?" She asked.
"...Command broke the news a little while after our last call, at least to us. The Covenant were on the planet before we'd even left. I don't know how long they'd been there. All the same, I'm pretty sure they were there at-"
"Visegrád?" Erica asked, connecting the dots. Unintentionally, she snuck a glance over at where she'd left Sára. She wasn't there anymore. She looked about, ultimately finding her speaking to Nova and the others.
"How'd you know that?" Duncan asked, suddenly giving her his undivided attention.
She pointed to Sára. "Her."
"Her? Wait, I forgot to ask. She tagged along with you, right? Who is she?"
"Her name's Sára. She was involved with ONI."
Duncan's stiffened up as he zeroed in on her. "ONI?"
"Relax, I said 'was', and even then, not directly. Her parents were scientists, researchers for the Office. Her connections made it so that they assigned a few agents to watch out for her."
Duncan intuitively peered over his shoulder at the surrounding crowd. "And where are they?"
"Not around anymore. The Covenant saw to that."
The mention of the Covenant brought Duncan back to the conversation. So did the distant rumbling of another dog fight somewhere above.
"So, she told you?"
Erica nodded. "Maybe a little more than they told you. Some Covenant strike team hit the relay, slaughtered everyone there...her parents too. She was the only one that survived."
Duncan took another long look at Sára. "I see...so, you already knew then."
"Probably not as soon as you did."
He turned to her again, his demeanor burdened by what he had to say.
"I'm sorry."
A sharp sensation struck her in the stomach, spreading out to the rest of her as she lined up a question that seemed too obvious to ask.
"For what?"
"Not telling you when I could."
"You couldn't, remember? Orders."
"Orders I didn't have to follow."
"Yes, you did." She insisted. "Yes, you did, Duncan Iris, because if you didn't, you'd be in pris-"
She caught herself, realizing that Noah was listening.
"If you didn't, you wouldn't be here right now."
Duncan nodded soberly. "Neither would you."
Right then, she understood what he was getting at.
"You wouldn't have wound up in this situation," He argued. "In this city."
Almost emphasizing his point, another loud boom resonated from somewhere far off.
"Both of you could've been somewhere else, somewhere safer. I didn't give you that chance."
"Duncan-"
"No, Eri. It's not okay. I left my whole family at risk because some officer I've never even seen in person told me not to say anything. Protocol or not, that's a hell of a price to pay for silence...for all the good it did."
"Duncan, that relay was out of commission. We couldn't talk to other planets. Intersystem travel was clogged up. We wouldn't have been able to get out of here even if you had told us. None of that's your fault, you hear me? None of it. So-, so don't go beating yourself up about this. Not again."
"Letting you know would've at least given you a chance to prepare, to-, what do you mean not again?"
She'd let it slip.
She hadn't meant to. Regardless, it had come out. Something that had been eating away at her for years was brought to the surface at a moment's notice. She wasn't ready to explain it yet. But it was out there. Now was the time.
"Duncan, you always do this."
"...What?"
"Something happens to us that's out of our control and you blame yourself for it. You do it all the time. If it were up to you, you'd put the whole war on your shoulders."
She saw it, a straightening of his posture, a slight arching of his brow, a shadow of a grimace.
"If it were up to me, it'd be over by now." He replied.
At that, she shot him a disagreeing look that broke him from the thought.
"Okay, maybe not. But it's not always stuff I didn't have a hand in."
"It is."
"No, it isn't."
"It's just you overthinking."
"I'm not overthinking."
"Then what, what is it?" Erica asked, not noticing the rise in her tone until it was too late.
"It's because I care." He said with just as much strain. "Can you really blame me for that? I care, I really do, about you and Noah and everyone else. And I think-…"
He trailed off for a while before his demeanor began to cool. "I think-...I think of what would've happened if you were never here."
Erica shook her head vehemently. "I just told you, there's nothing you-"
"No, there was." He said with a suddenness of conviction that silenced her completely. "If you'd never followed me to Reach, if you never came here, if you stayed on Earth. Think about it. How much better off would you be right now? How much better off would you be right now if I'd told you to stay back in Sol, if you weren't...here?"
Erica was hesitant to speak. Then a conviction of her own welled up inside her.
"Well, if I remember correctly, that was my decision. I didn't tell you anything about it until I got here. Want to know why?"
He said nothing, waiting.
"Because I thought you might say something just like this."
"And I wouldn't have been wrong."
She felt her brow twitch. "Alright then, forgive me for wanting to see the man I chose to spend the rest of my life with for more than just once every couple of years."
That one seemed to land. She saw him taken aback. Still, he remained adamant.
"At least you wouldn't wind up dead."
"I'm sorry, am I dead?"
"No, but you could've been." He said, nearly shouting. "Both of you. Don't you get it, I almost lost you two back th-"
The two of them stopped cold, having finally noticed the tears welling up in Noah's eyes. He was just about to cry.
Erica sprung up. She lifted him off his father's lap and pointed over to Nova. "Go to your aunty, Noe, okay? Me and dad need to talk."
Noah was hesitant. He looked back over his shoulder for a while. Then, dragging his feet, he trudged over towards Nova as she and the others took notice.
Erica slowly returned to her seat, feeling 30 years older than she should.
A wordless silence passed between them.
In a short while, she found the strength to speak, her tone soft and careful. "Why do you do this to yourself?"
It was another long while before Duncan answered.
"Because if I lose you, I lose the war." He said with measured slowness. "Or at least my place in it. There'd be almost no point after that."
"I thought you joined the ODSTs because it was always your dream to?"
"It was. Still is."
"...So, what then?"
Again, he gazed off at the floor, sighing deeply. "...Turned out to be a lot bigger than I thought it'd be."
He leaned forward in his chair. He brought up his hands, still armed in their gauntlets. He scanned them as if he were reading a story that had been emblazoned upon his palms. Then he glanced over at Noah, watching while Nova scooped him up for a hug.
"I don't think I was ready."
"For a war or for a family?" Erica asked.
"What's the difference?"
She grimaced. "One lasts a whole lot longer than the other."
Duncan met her stare. "Which one?"
Erica bit her tongue, holding herself back. She couldn't argue over odds. Instead, she settled for facts.
"We're still here." She affirmed.
"I know. The trick is getting you out of here."
Her grimace deepened. "You're acting like we're going to lose Reach."
Duncan considered it, his fingers curling down into uncertain fists. "I don't know. I don't know what's going to happen."
"Yes, you do." She replied, adding enough certainty for both of them. "You said it yourself. You're getting us out of here."
"I said that's the trick."
"That's not what I heard."
The stubbornness in her voice caught Duncan off guard just enough for her to press on.
"I heard my husband say he's going to get his family out of here." She leaned in closer to him. "And I'm going to do everything I can to make sure he doesn't have to worry about us anymore or worse, blame himself on our account. Maybe then that'll up the odds that he comes back to us in one piece."
Duncan glared at her. "You really heard all that?"
She glared right back. "Didn't you?"
The stare off lasted a few tense seconds.
Duncan was the one to lose it, the seriousness in his face cracked by a small grin. However, a doubtful shadow remained. He spoke nearly at a whisper.
"If you had the chance...when I asked you that day, with everything you've been through...think you still would've said yes?"
The question itself made her angry. It was a good kind of anger though, the reassuring kind.
"You listen to me, Duncan Iris, and you listen well. Look at you, all dressed up in that armor. You know what I see? I still see that little boy that I always used to pass by on my way home. Remember him, that crazy kid who always used to jump out of trees, trying to be a Helljumper, even when he barely knew his left from his right? Because I do."
His expression was rock solid. He didn't need to show it though for her to know that she'd gotten to him.
"I don't regret being friends with him." She said honestly. "I don't regret jumping out of trees with him for fun, even when my dad told me to stop hanging around him. I don't regret how many times I sprained my ankles as I hit the ground or when I laughed off the pain with him."
She got up and walked over. She sat down next to him, getting close enough to bring them face to face.
"I don't regret going to that high-school dance with him, that same one where I didn't realize how much I cared until I saw him with someone else, and how he looked at me when I was with someone else. I don't regret letting him take me home that night, or being his girlfriend after that." She held up the silver ring on her finger. "I especially don't regret this."
She gestured over at Noah. "Or keeping his child a secret so he could do what he'd always dreamed of."
By then, Duncan's grin had warmed back into a smile. "Even when it turned out to be a little too big for him, maybe a bit rougher to boot?"
"Aren't they always?" Her face was a mirror of his own as she edged closer. "Mines was."
She caught him blushing despite himself.
"You're just buttering me up."
"Don't." She cut in, tapping a finger on his forehead. "I'm telling you what I think. Don't ruin it."
"Alright."
"I don't regret it. I got to do so much. I got to meet some amazing people." She paused to remember the faces, Mr. Mitchell, Ms. Turner, and so many others. "I don't regret even being here right now. Back there in that hotel, that's all I could think about. You, me and Noah, that's all I needed, and I...don't regret...any of it."
She closed the last bit of distance so that for the second time that day they were only a breath apart. "So why should you?"
Duncan didn't answer straight away. When he did, it wasn't verbal. She saw the signs: eyes clamping shut, shoulders trembling.
She reached out and wrapped her arms around him just as he went off. It wasn't like when he'd first found them at the hotel. When he broke down, it was a hard thing to watch, like a fractured dam giving way altogether. It was one thing to see him cry over his family being safe. This was something else entirely. It was what she would've imagined if years of pain was turned into a sound.
He tried not to be too loud for the sake of those around. She squeezed him tighter, despite that the whole situation was putting her on the brink. There was so much she had wanted to say that she had finally gotten to. Her thoughts seemed to untangle in her mind, gifting her with a clarity that she had never known before.
She felt decades younger, a little girl trying to help her best friend through the pain of a bad fall. No matter how bad they were, he always seemed to bounce back. She'd always admired him for it. That hadn't changed even as they'd gotten older.
Like a shadow from the past, small arms came around Duncan from the other side. She looked.
It was Noah.
He hugged his dad with everything he had, even though his arms were too short to wrap all the way around him.
Bit by bit, Duncan began to settle down, shivering at first before he could breathe more easily. He was quiet after a while.
Then someone's stomach grumbled.
By the way Duncan noticed the smaller pair of hands trying to comfort him, she figured that it hadn't come from him.
A small chuckle turned into a laugh, Duncan's laugh.
It was contagious and soon Noah had joined in, giggling apologetically. "Sorry."
"Guess someone's hungry." Duncan said. "Eri, how about you?"
She smiled. "Starving. Why, you're cooking for us?"
"There's no kitchens around here, but I'll check the food court. When's the last time you guys ate?"
"Years ago." Noah groaned.
"Feels like it anyway." Erica agreed.
Duncan nodded as he wiped the dampness off his face. "Alright, I'll be back."
He blinked away the last of the glaze from his eyes, but not before spotting Noah's legs. For the first time he noticed the burns. His face fell a bit, only to harden with fatherly resolve.
"I want you to tell me what happened back there." He turned to them both. "After we eat anyway. For now, just take it easy. I'll get some gauze for those burns. We can talk about it then."
Erica was nervous again. It wasn't merely for what she had to say. She was also unsure of what Noah would say. She hadn't had the nerves to ask him about everything he'd seen, or about the two names that had become so taboo over the past two days. Still, she matched Duncan's resolve with her own. She wasn't going to hold anything back from him.
"I'll tell you everything you want to know." She promised, planning to make good on her word.
:********:
Duncan was exhausted, both physically and emotionally as he pulled himself to his feet. He didn't want to leave. That couldn't stop him from doing what needed to be done. It was one of those fleeting moments when he felt less like an ODST and more like a family man.
With Noah's burns on his mind, he left the seating area and went over towards Nova and the others. Sára was still talking with them.
He walked up to her. "Hey, Sára, right? Thanks for looking out for them for me."
Sára smiled apologetically. "Me? No. More like the other way around." She held out a hand. "Thanks for the rescue."
He shook it. "Thanks for surviving it."
"How did you guys fare back there anyway?" Nova asked. "That little ride had us on edge. I can't imagine what it was like onboard."
"Yeah, we can." Zack corrected. "Yuri's joyrides are pretty much the same. By the way, if you get the chance, don't forget to thank him for not being your pilot."
Sára got a laugh out of it. "Sure. Actually, the flight...wasn't that bad, the parts where we weren't falling out of the sky at least. Well, that and they didn't have any airline food."
Duncan perked up. "That reminds me. I'm heading over to the food court. You guys want anything?"
"We'll check it out later." Nova said. "Right now, we just want to see how they're holding up. Sára, how about you?"
"I'm alright for now but I think there's somewhere I need to check for myself."
"Roger that, I'll be back." Duncan said and waved off to them as he started down the walkway.
He didn't get far.
He took several steps before he stopped.
It was the teenager, one of the same two that they'd saved at the hotel.
The boy stood in his way.
It wasn't his presence but the look on his face that froze Duncan in place. He hadn't had a good look at it until then, a strange contortion of two different emotions that had no business being crammed together. He seemed like he wanted to ask him something, and yet as if he had something more to say.
Out the corner of his eye Duncan spotted the girl. She was standing off to the side. She was tense as she watched both of them, eyes wide with alarm.
Duncan was lost for words.
The boy wasn't. After several uneasy seconds, he held out his hand.
"Thanks...for the rescue."
His voice was unsteady, too deep to be a child's yet too light to be a man's.
Duncan got another glimpse of the girl. A deep nostalgia settled over him, one he couldn't quite place.
Cautious, he reached out. To his surprise, the boy's hands were rough. Though they weren't as calloused as his own, they weren't the kind he would've expected of someone his age.
He shook it.
"Glad you're safe." He said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I just need to-"
A cold shiver seized his senses. He looked again. The girl, the blonde hair, the eyes. Her face, it was familiar.
"And this," The boy said calmly, "is for everything else."
The punch was too fast for him to catch, snapping Duncan's jaw to the side.
His reflexes kicked in and he brought up his hand, blocking one punch and then another before grasping the boy's arm. The face on the other side hissed through gritted teeth, trembling with rage.
What struck Duncan harder than the blow itself was the pain of recognition. Years fell off the young man before him in an instant as they peeled away from his memory, and then he saw him.
The boy exposed a mirthless grin. "Remember me?"
Duncan's eye twitched. "Arth-"
Another punch cracked him across the nose, bucking his head back. A flurry of follow-ups landed against his armor: bee stings compared to the firestorm that was unleashed in his mind. He didn't bother blocking. Instead, he stared at the kid as he struck wildly at his BDU.
Those gray eyes, he remembered them too. They'd been young once, carefree even. Now they were glazed pools of rage that searched for an opening in his armor.
Arthur.
A hand suddenly reached out to grab the boy's just as a boot swept his feet out from under him.
Thrown off balance, Arthur faceplanted into the floor.
Duncan winced at the loud smack of the impact. He stood stunned as Rico stepped in, securing Arthur's arms behind his back and pinning him beneath his knee.
"You okay, D?" Rico asked.
Duncan just stared at Arthur, watching him struggle to free himself. The boy craned his head to look at him. Like a wild dog, he bared his teeth, still shaking with anger.
Rico kept him pinned. "You know this kid?"
Again, nothing.
A small but growing crowd of onlookers was gathering around them. Several dozen civilians watched the scene closely.
When the will to answer came at last, Duncan's voice was a ghost of its former self.
"...Yeah. Yeah, I know him."
Rico looked between the two of them and sighed at length. "You know, D, I'm getting real tired of people you know trying to kill you."
Duncan shook his head. "I don't think this one was trying to kill me."
Arthur glared daggers at him. "Wanna bet?" He growled up at Rico. "Get off me!"
Rico arched a brow. "For your own safety, chico, it's better if you stay right there."
Threats and curses surged from the boy's mouth before he turned his attention back to Duncan. "Stop acting like you don't remember! Stop acting like you don't know what you did, you bastard!"
That all but confirmed it for him.
He remembered Kholo. He remembered the AMADDS. He remembered the town of Hayth.
He remembered them.
The girl, it was Christa. She was all grown up.
So was Arthur.
They were teenagers now. It both amazed and unsettled him that he hadn't realized it was them. They'd changed so much, but so little.
He remembered the pure betrayal in Arthur's eyes as he and his grandmother were escorted through the gates of Hayth. He likewise recalled the warm smile on Christa when she said her goodbyes.
Arthur was a ball of wrath, while Christa stood off to the side, quiet and watchful.
Duncan fought down a sudden nausea.
He recalled something else, a thing that seemed silly when he really thought about it.
"Did you ever get it?"
"Shut up!" Arthur growled.
"I said did you get it?"
"What're you talking about!?"
A sharp pain pricked at Duncan's heart as more old memories jarred loose. "Your soccer ball."
It had been one of the last requests he'd made of his one-time superior, Commander White. Even though Arthur had handed it over, or at least thrown it at him, he'd known better than to keep it. Nevertheless, he still wanted to know if it had gotten to him after all these years.
The boy's struggles slowed and died away. He stared at Duncan for a while before his gaze flitted over his shoulder, landing on Christa. The confusion was palpable. He shook his head disbelievingly and leveled his stare back on Duncan. The hatred was still there but a little less sure of itself.
"Shut up!" He hissed. "I didn't get anything! I don't want anything from you, you sick-, you pathetic piece of-"
A renewed burst of rage caught Rico off guard. Arthur wiggled out from under his hold and shot to his feet, charging ahead in a blind fury. Duncan stood ready as he hurtled into him with enough force to knock them both over. Still, he twisted to the side in time to blunt the fall. Slamming to the floor, Arthur's hands scrambled for his neck. His fingers slipped around it and squeezed as hard as they could, not enough to incapacitate him but sufficient to cause pain.
"Sorry about this, Arth." Duncan snarled.
Arthur gasped as an armored knee jetted into his ribs. He coughed and wheezed, giving Duncan the upper hand. Just as Nova, Rico and Zack rushed in to help, he pinned the boy's arms to his side and set a knee over his legs, pressing down to deprive him of any leverage.
Catching his breath, Arthur started struggling again.
"Arthur."
He struggled harder.
"Arthur!"
Duncan pressed down tighter on his legs and watched his face redden from the pain. He got the message and stopped resisting.
"You ready to listen?" Duncan asked, but in truth he was telling him. "I don't know how you got here, Arth, but I'll tell you what, I'm sorry you had to be here. There's better places you could be right now, and I'll do everything I can to get you there."
Without warning, Arthur spat on him. "Do I look like I care!? I've been waiting years to do that! If you wanna die out there, go on ahead! I just want you to know how much I hate you, how much everybody from Hayth hated you! You threw the book at everything they had, everything they worked for, everything 'we' worked for! And you want to know where it landed us!? In prison! They wanted you dead just as much as I do, but since you're so ready, go for it! I'm not stopping you! Go die in a ditch somewhere so I don't have to see your face anymore!"
The words, if they could be called that, cut deep, too deep for Duncan to show. He blocked them out. He'd expected much, just not this much.
Nova, Rico and Zack stood over him.
Looking up at where he'd left Erica, he saw her standing with Noah. Her face was pale, hand over mouth. Noah looked completely lost.
Footsteps sounded nearby.
A small group of soldiers broke through the gathering. They'd seen everything from afar and came to intervene, ordering the crowd to return to their seats as they closed in on the scene. Duncan stepped aside for them to get ahold of Arthur. One of them lifted the teen to his feet and shoved him back, ordering him to leave.
Duncan wasn't sure if he would listen until he saw the fire in his eyes cool.
Arthur looked at him long and hard. Then he spat on the floor, turned his back and strode off.
Christa reached for him, but he brushed off her hand and steamed away down the walkway. She briefly peered back at Duncan, an unspoken apology written on her face, before running after him.
An awkward silence ensued.
The space around them slowly returned to normal. The tension having vanished, the crowd dissipated, though a few curious glances continued to observe the four ODSTs.
Duncan still looked on as Christa finally caught up with Arthur. The pair walked side by side wordlessly. He remembered when they were little. A part of himself couldn't help bringing up the last time he'd seen them, looking on while they walked up the ramp of the ONI prowler, UNSC Santiago. It'd been ages ago. After the last two minutes, it felt even longer.
That reminded him of something else. Someone was missing from that memory. Olivia, Arthur's grandmother, where was she? Why wasn't she with them?
More importantly, how had they even gotten here in the first place?
"You guys got all that too, right?" Zack asked worriedly.
"Hayth." Rico replied. "They were on Kholo."
Nova closed in on Duncan to get his attention. "Old friends of yours, D?"
Duncan gradually thawed out of the shock of the moment.
He managed a shallow nod, never taking his eyes off the pair even as they dwindled away into the masses. "One of them."
Amare - To Love