Halo: Indelible Past/Chapter Twenty

Felix had to give Rosch credit: the man was utterly unflappable.

He had called in a full-scale occupation of a colonial province, recruited elements from the Marines, Navy, and even the local militia, assembled a small fleet of air elements, all to catch a single man. And now, after the city had practically been leveled and countless lives lost in the process, that man had slipped away. The target this entire operation had been focused on had just vanished without a trace, and all they had to show for it was one washed-up deserter they hadn't even been looking for.

Any other officer would have been calling in every favor in the book, clutching at whatever straws drifted within reach to save their career. But Rosch hadn't so much as batted an eye as he transmitted his report to whoever his higher-ups were on ONI's twisting stairs of cloak-and-dagger. All he'd done was order Jian--Felix included--to wait for him in the waiting room of the brig on the frigate they'd been flown up to.

The Mother of Invention was just as cramped as the dozens of other frigates Felix had ever been on, and he was glad that some effort had been put into making the waiting room at least as spacious as one of the eating areas enjoyed by the crew. At Rosch's orders the entire section had been cleared of crew; he'd even had one crewman doing brig time for drunkenness transferred to another ship to serve his sentence.

Felix couldn't say that he liked or even agreed with Rosch's brutally rigid way of doing things, but he had to admire the man's dogged efficiency.

He was also glad the waiting area had been cleared because it had made room--and removed witnesses--for the strange scene unfolding in front of him.

Ralph, still in armor minus his helmet, was throwing punch after punch at Jake's face. Jian's former leader had also taken off his helmet and was busy one clumsy swing after another with his forearm.

"Why, damn it?" Ralph snarled, red hair sticking to his dripping forehead like bedraggled vines. "Why'd it have to be her?"

"I wasn't expecting it either," Jake said calmly, turning yet another blow aside. "It sucks, but that doesn't help us or her."

"She made it out!" The shorter Spartan's next punch went low and Jake only barely blocked it. "She got out, and she was happy! Why'd she have to show up like that!"

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but just that moment he let a punch slip through his guard. He staggered back, a purple welt forming on his cheek.

Felix stepped forward, ready to get between the two of them. He was still in his full MJOLNIR, helmet included and he was fully prepared to physically force them apart. But Jake waved him off, stopping Felix in his tracks.

Ralph might be over the edge, but Jake had proven back on New Madrigal that he knew how to handle his unpredictable teammate. Felix didn't come any closer and waited to see how Jake's experience played out.

"Cut it out, Ralph," Jake warned, backing up against a table. "She has info the commander needs. Info on Simon. You want to catch him, don't you?"

"Not with her!" Ralph pulled his arm back for a bone-shattering blow. "Not like this!"

The fist shot forward, but this time Jake was waiting. He caught it and yanked his teammate forward, sidestepped, then pinned him bodily to the table.

"That's enough, Ralph," he warned. "You've had enough. Take a deep breath and snap out of it, buddy."

And, to Felix's surprise, Ralph actually slumped, the fight draining out of him. "Damn it," he muttered. "Damn it!"

"We'll put in a good word for her with the commander," Jake assured him. "We'll be there for her. Like we always were. She'll be alright."

Ralph nodded slowly. Jake released him, and the fiery Spartan stumbled off to sit in a corner of the deserted waiting room. He kept running his hands through his hair and muttering inaudibly to himself.

Felix fixed Jake with his visor's faceless gaze. "That's a way of working off stress I haven't seen before. Does he always hit you?"

Jake shrugged, throwing himself down on another bench. "Ralph is Ralph, sir. Stick with us long enough and you'll get used to him as well. He's been my buddy since I was seven, before we even got put on a team together. I know how he works."

"I believe you," Felix assured him. "But I want to know more about SPARTAN-G006." It felt odd to refer to the young woman they'd brought up to the brig with them so impersonally, but the name "Cassandra" felt strange coming out of his mouth. It didn't suit a deserter, much less a traitor.

"What's there to know?" Jake's words were casual, but his tone was guarded. He was holding back, hoping Felix would give up. But this wasn't something he could just walk away from.

"Why she's here. What she knows about G294. What happened with you all."

Jake gave him a wry smile. "If you want her whole life story, ONI's got a file on her. I'm betting you've got a classification level high enough to read it."

"I have read the file on her," Felix admitted. "But there's a lot missing. The report your team submitted on her disappearance was somewhat vague."