<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">prologue</div><div class="spoiler_body"><br/><strong><em>A couple days ago...<br/><br/>Location: The Pentagon.<br/>Arlington County, Virginia, United States.<br/>Earth, Sol System.</em></strong><br/><br/>The helmet's visor seemed to bore into his soul, and with it's intense gaze came a myriad of violent and bloody memories. Memories he didn't want. He felt the shift in time as the years passed. He felt it like a hammer being struck against his back. The general mood of everyone was getting darker in the UNSC, not that he could really blame them. First off, Humans had trouble getting along with each other, then added to that, the governments were run by imperfect people, some of which could care less about others, whether they lived in the core worlds, the inner colonies, or the further out outer colonies, and cared more about their own personal power. Then the Covenant came and threatened everything, forcing humanity to band together to fight them off by whatever means possible. Then the Flood. Now, here it was some forty years later, and it was the Prometheans doing the same thing, forcing humanity to fight to survive while it still fought off Covenant Remnants, Insurrectionists, and the Flood where ever they cropped up. Still, even through those troublesome, violent years, there was a edge of hope in the atmosphere. That the issues could be solved, and the enemies dogging humanity defeated.<br/><br/>These days though, were growing darker in Davek Ironwall's eyes. It wasn't just the Covenant Remnant, or the Prometheans, or the still active Insurrectionist groups, or the daily grind of everyone being on edge, just waiting for the next threat to raise it's ugly head. No, it wasn't just those things, it was something else. Something that didn't have a name...yet. Something that the Spartan just couldn't put his finger on. <br/><br/>"Spartan Ironwall?"<br/><br/>Gladiator looked up at the girl that was addressing him, her slightly curious, slightly irritated tone finally getting his attention. She must have been calling to him a couple times while he'd been thinking. He didn't say anything to her, just looked up at her with his blue eyes and raised his black eyebrows to tell her that he had heard her.<br/><br/>"Admiral Stanforth will see you now" she said politely.<br/><br/>"Thanks" the Spartan said, standing to his full height in one smooth motion, his new helmet tucked in the crux of his arm. The new armor and especially the helmet bothered him for some reason. The new armor was lighter, which was good because it allowed for more maneuverability in the field, but, it didn't feel like it would be able to take the punishment his old armor could, heavy as it was. Davek pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he neared the admiral's office door. He took a steadying breath, then gently turned the knob to open the door. Despite the fact that Gladiator towered most everyone in the building, and could probably over power the military personnel with his combat experience and his strength alone, didn't make him any less nervous as he opened the door but, the fact that the admiral preferred a polished mahogany wooden door with a bulletproof glass window, and an actual door knob was not lost upon him, and calmed his racing heart.  Most doors now were automatic and made of sterilized metal, usually Titanium A in military buildings, or VIP assets. Upon entering the room, he found himself face to face with a man that wore his age very well. He had that war worn look that almost everyone in the UNSC had now, his shocking white hair was kept trimmed short in a crew cut, and his salt and pepper beard was likewise kept trimmed neatly. All in all, the man looked like he should have been in a old British painting, not sitting behind a desk issuing orders, and he certainly didn't look like anyone that should have made a Spartan feel like he was being sent to the principal's office.<br/><br/>"Admiral Stanforth sir!" Gladiator said, his already stiff back getting even more rigid as he stepped to and saluted his superior "Sierra zero one six one reporting, sir! As ordered," his deep toned voice seemed to make the very air waver. Davek didn't know why he was here. He'd just received orders to meet Admiral Stanforth in his office yesterday, no explanation, no other words to give any kind of clue. He'd been stationed in New Mombasa, Africa at the time and had taken the first Pelican going out that way. He'd arrived two hours ago and hadn't slept a wink during the flight, and unfortunately for him, it showed. He'd been too nervous. He always was when it came to meeting admirals and generals, and especially when he'd received cryptic orders to do so. Davek had heard the latest scuttlebutt from Echo team, that Private Shana Wasser had murdered a fellow soldier, Private Ryan O'Brian. He figured that his summons probably had something to do with that, since he'd worked with her and Private O'Brian only a few short years ago. In truth, he expected for an ONI operative to be in the room as well, and to conduct an interrogation. However, he didn't see anyone else in the room.<br/><br/>Stanforth snapped a crisp salute back to him and ordered him to close the door and to take a seat in front of his desk. The Spartan lowered his hand and did as he was ordered, making sure to make his movements measured, so as not to damage anything. Now that he was only a foot away from the admiral, he could tell that the man was tired. Probably as tired as he was.<br/><br/>"It takes a toll, doesn't it?" Stanforth said after a moment of taking measure of the Spartan in front of him, who continued to stare straight ahead, not meeting the man's gaze. <br/><br/>The man's question confused Davek for a moment, and finally, the Spartan's eyes met the admiral's "Sir?"<br/><br/>"The wars, the battles, the killing," Stanforth explained.<br/><br/>"Uh, yes sir. It does. They don't tell you that during training," the Spartan replied simply, still wondering why he'd been summoned.<br/><br/>Stanforth simply nodded, then took a breath and rubbed his forehead "they don't tell you what a pain in the ass being an admiral can be either. Dealing with politicians, supply complaints, and ungrateful civilians."<br/><br/>Gladiator nodded but, cut the admiral short as it seemed like he was about to go on "excuse me sir but, you didn't call me here to discuss the challenges of duty. I'd be very appreciative if you got to the point."<br/><br/>The admiral could have slapped him with a court marshal for interrupting him, and could have probably taken his rank as well but, the man just smiled, as if the Spartan's interruption was funny "very well, straight to the point," he said standing up and straightening his uniform. The admiral walked around his desk and towards the Spartan "how well did you know Private Wasser?"<br/><br/>The Spartan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms "not very well. I fought with her and a lot of others in New York when the Covenant tried to take advantage of the majority of the fleet's attention being on New Mombasa."<br/><br/>The admiral nodded "I remember the survivor reports of that mission. You didn't..get close with her over the time you were there?"<br/><br/>"No sir, not romantically at least. We exchanged some life stories but, that was it," Gladiator said simply "Sir, what's this about?"<br/><br/>Stanforth sighed rubbing his forehead "she killed Private O'Brian, there were witnesses. She's been tried and sentenced to a penal colony."<br/><br/>Gladiator was beginning to get a little irritated but, he tried not to show it. He'd known that Shana had killed O'Brian, it was a popular subject to discuss when people had a spare moment to do so "I know that sir. Has something happened to her during transport?"<br/><br/>The admiral nodded "we got word a few hours ago that the ship carrying her, the Hannibal, went down in orbit somewhere over Reach's northern pole. However, we've also heard rumors out of the Falaknuma colony in the 18 Scorpii system, that there's a ship that looks a lot like the Hannibal, and a woman, that looks like our Shana Wasser. We want you to go to Reach first, see if there's any debris from the Hannibal. See if it did indeed go down. Then go to Falaknuma and track down this person, see if it's Wasser."<br/><br/>Gladiator looked at the admiral, he couldn't blame the man for being cautious, the UNSC didn't have anything concrete yet, just rumors <br/>"Sir, wouldn't it make more sense to go directly to Falaknuma? Rather than wasting time going to Reach? Then we would know faster whether the rumors are true," Spartan Davek offered.<br/><br/>"Normally, I'd agree with you but, this is all hear say, and sending a Spartan on this kind of thing doesn't sit well with a lot of people already" Stanforth explained "we need concrete proof before we put any more resources into this, which we're short on already."<br/><br/>"Sir, I understand. What do I do if it is Wasser, and it is the Hannibal?"<br/><br/>"Find out what she's up to."<br/><br/>"And then?"<br/><br/>There was a long moment before the admiral spoke, and a sickening feeling in the pit of the Spartan's stomach. He knew what the reply would be before the admiral even spoke.<br/><br/>"...kill her."<br/></div></div><br/><em><strong>A few hours later...</strong></em><br/><strong>Location: On board the Olympian. <br/>Epsilon Eridani System, Reach.</strong><br/><br/>Gladiator had tried to argue against his orders but, the admiral had made it clear on the UNSC's stance on the subject of Shana Wasser. She knew too much about the UNSC, and she'd stepped on a lot of toes to begin with, which didn't help her case. Then there was the fact that she murdered a fellow soldier in cold blood. Davek was still trying to wrap his head around that one. Part of him just couldn't believe that she had killed O'Brian on purpose, that it had to have been an accident of some sort. He'd known that Shana and O'Brian hadn't gotten along, everyone did but, to kill him because they didn't like each other? Because of a conflict in personalities? Or a bad history? It sounded ridiculous to him. In truth though, he didn't really know Shana that well, and he'd purposefully tried to steer clear of that subject when he'd fought beside her in New York. As long as she followed orders, and did her job, that was all that really mattered to him back then. He started to question whether he'd made the right decision at the time, to keep everyone at an arms length. Then he had to remind himself that Shana was an adult, and had known full well what the consequences would be if she hadn't put her feelings aside in New York. He'd tried to sleep after his little internal debate but, the fact that they were on course to Reach made him restless. Memories of his childhood flooded his thoughts, and he felt that old anger flare up again. Instead of trying to hide it though, he put in an hour on the training deck, using the targets that the room provided to vent his anger upon. It helped a little bit, like always. After a few rounds of target practice, he headed back to his room.<br/><br/>Again he was lost in thought when the com in his assigned quarters buzzed, and the COM's officer on the bridge told him that they had arrived. He thanked the man, gathered his gear, and headed to the armory. The first window he came to on his way to the armory made him pause. The sight of Reach, once a beautiful planet full of greens and blues, was now a wasteland of rock and dirt. A flood of memories came back to him upon the sight one particular side of the planet, as the continent that Castle Base used to be on came into view.<br/><br/>He traveled back 40 years into the past in the blink of an eye. He remembered every detail about his first day on Reach. The stoic look on Catherine Halsey's face as she addressed the kids that she'd kidnapped.<br/><br/><em>"As per Naval code 45812, you are hereby conscripted into the UNSC project code-named; Spartan 2."</em><br/><br/>His mind flashed to him lying on a laboratory bed, while scientists injected him with experimental compounds, steroids, and chemicals. He'd screamed in excruciating pain for what seemed like hours as the mixture did it's work, changing his body, his bone density, everything. He remembered his bones feeling like they were being injected with shards of glass, and his body being on fire as his temperature sky rocketed.<br/><br/>Again came Halsey's placid voice<em>"You have been called upon to serve,"</em>and again his mind went to more memories. Saluting Senior Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez on the day of their "graduation." Then the battles that he'd been ordered into, or volunteered for, sprang to mind. Memories of varying colors of blood. Men, women, and children screaming in terror as the world around them exploded in fire and a hail of plasma and bullets. Elites, Brutes, Hunters, and Jackals roaring in their battle cries as they fired at him and his men, the ground exploding near his feet. The crazed look of waves and waves of Grunts as they lit plasma grenades in their hands and ran toward whatever human was closest.<br/><br/><em>"You will be trained..and you will become the best that we can make of you,"</em>his memory flashed to the barbed wire trenches they were made to army crawl through as the rain poured down on them, and the marines fired live rounds over their heads, or near their bodies. He remembered the cries of pain that accompanied those bursts of fire as live round either crazed them, or accidentally hit an extremity, and the lightning cold snap of the marine voices that replied to those cries.<br/><br/><em>"You will be the protectors of Earth and all her colonies."</em><br/><br/>He remembered the glassing of Harvest. How the Utgard Mall bubbled outwards before exploding, how the highway melted into slag. How Mimir River simply evaporated as the plasma beams touched it's surface, and how the column of steam that arose blocked the sight of the sun. Then the memories of Reach's glassing began. How they had hope of repelling the Covenant. Word of Noble team's find on the location of a signal pylon that was hiding the Covenant's invading army on the surface. The sight of the UNSC frigate Grafton going down only a kilometer or so away from the Falcon he'd been in at the time, after having set a charge on a different spire. How the concussion wave from Grafton's destruction had crashed the Falcon he was in, and how he was thrown clear of the craft as they hit the ground. Then he remembered how one of the propellers had speared the meat of his leg, pinning him to the ground, then looking up to see the other propeller stuck in the side of a nearby cliff, then curling into a ball as much as possible after charging his shields to full, as debris from the Falcon rained down on him. How he'd had to break that propeller blade himself, and then pull himself off of it to survive, and then try to patch himself up on top of it all, with only a half a can of biofoam available to him. Then having to fight the Covenant off from a mining facility.<br/><br/>Davek's gaze shifted from the planet to his own reflection, and he was again struck at how different he looked now compared to back then. He barely recognized himself when he looked in the mirror anymore. The war worn look in his eyes, combined with the bags under his eyes that he had quite often was unsettling. Perhaps most disturbing to him though, was the gray that was slowly seeping into his once midnight black hair.<br/>His life flashed by his eyes in only a few minutes and he wondered for the first time, as he recalled admiral Stanforth's orders to kill Shana when he was done with his investigation, what exactly was he fighting for. He'd told himself that he was fighting for the survival of the human race, and fooled himself for years with the answer but, now it was starting to sound hollow. This wasn't the first time he'd been ordered to kill a fellow soldier, a brother or sister. He'd been ordered to kill deserters before, and he had at the time done it without questioning the decision much. Now he was starting to question everything he'd once believed so fiercely in.<br/><br/>He remembered Halsey's tired look as he'd been one of the ones to be brought into her office after having escaped the defense perimeter around Castle Base. More importantly, he remembered the conversation he'd had with her, and it only made him question everything that much more. Davek started walking towards the bridge once again, and forced the "traitorous" thoughts from his mind.<br/><br/>An hour later they were on their way to a mining facility near the 18 Scorpii system. From there, he was to catch a civilian transport to the Falaknuma colony. While at Reach, their scanners had picked up debris matching the configuration of the Hannibal in space, and when Gladiator followed the debris' trail, he found another clue. It was an impact trail from what he assumed was the Hannibal, along with a drag trail that scarred the barren ground. There was only one problem. There was no ship from where the drag trail stopped. That meant someone had picked it up and towed it possibly somewhere else, or they had managed to get it up off the ground again after whatever had happened. Being on Reach's surface again was hard for him. A lot of good and bad memories resided on that planet, and he was partially thankful when they left the system.<br/><br/>When he reached the Falaknuma colony, he was dressed in a black t-shirt, a pair of jeans and a pair of steel toed boots. He'd also been provided a small ear bud for reporting in, already encrypted and linked to a secure channel. The duffel bag he carried contained his armor, in a false bottom pocket, some basic electronics, some mementos that he carried with him wherever he went that were from his home, and of course, extra clothing. The brief case he carried contained his two favorite weapons, both of which were disassembled in another false bottom. If anyone wanted to check either item, they had to know where to look in order to find his armor and weapons. Both the duffel bag and brief case were laced with a miniature chip inside the false bottoms that would block image scanners and x-rays, and any security devices they might have, making everything look like normal. The clothing felt foreign to him but, he shrugged the feelings away. The area that this "Ressaw" had taken up shop in, reminded him of pictures of India back on Earth that he'd seen on the internet. From the air, he could see that some parts of it were nice and green with a lake here and a river there but, for the most part it was a bunch of rock and sand. A "dust bowl" as some of the marines and ODSTs would say.<br/><br/>Davek spotted what must have been Ressaw's booth almost immediately as he walked along the space dock, he had a feeling that the walls, ropes, and tire courses weren't something that every booth recruiting for a ship's crew sported. He spotted the woman herself a few moments later, as she talked to a male recruit and sent him through the obstacle course. Davek kept himself out of sight as much as possible, using alleyways between buildings and hiding behind large dumpsters to do his recon. The way the man moved through the obstacle course made him a dead giveaway for a Spartan, though he did well in trying to remain convincing that he wasn't. The man's moves though were precisely calculated and something only a fellow Spartan, or those that had worked closely with them for long periods of time, would notice.<br/><br/>Purposefully getting hit with bean bags, and almost catching one but, letting it graze your hand at the last second was mere child's play for a Spartan.<br/><br/>Davek spent the night in a nearby Inn. It was more of a slum than anything but, it was a new change of scenery for him. The mattress was poor quality but, it was better than nothing. After reporting in, he spent the night on the floor, and hoped for a restful sleep. The next morning he awoke early, packed his things, changed his clothes, and went straight to that alley again. He arrived just in time to see that same woman he'd seen yesterday talking to Ressaw prick her finger on a pen that was provided to her, as Ressaw's shipmate talked to the Spartan he'd spotted earlier that same day. He didn't see how he was going to be able to play a normal citizen, so he opted for the deserter approach in his mind. After all, there was no way anyone was going to buy that he was from a mining colony looking for work, the cover story his UNSC superiors had come up with. Idiots. He was too big and too tall.<br/><br/>Davek spotted another woman approaching the booth but, waited until Ressaw left, and her shipmate turned his back before he came out into the open and leaned against the building, arms crossed, and one of his hands rubbing his jaw, as if we was considering applying to their crew. He hoped that his sheer size would get him noticed by the man but, not by Ressaw. His gut told him that from what he'd been able to see of her so far, that this "Ressaw" was indeed Private Shana Wessar, which wasn't much a leap to him. Spelling your last name backwards to hide your identity was a civilian's classic move. The Innie's even did it back in the day.<br/><br/>He hoped that the crew bought his story. Otherwise, this mission would end before it even began. As he waited for the two crew members and their recruits to go about their business, he began to wonder if he really would take this chance to desert the UNSC. He'd thought about it several times throughout his life, and now, this was, literally, his golden, once in a lifetime, opportunity. To simply disappear into the universe.<br/><br/>After all, Spartans never died, they were only "missing in action".