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This fanfiction article, DT 2021: Name Integrity, was written by Distant Tide. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission. |
“Spartans are allowed disclosure of their origins per some of the post-war reexamination of Naval Intelligence secrecy statutes. But you’ve already heard all that before, I’m sure.”
Bless-G189 nodded dully at Lieutenant Commander Kallas’s gray-rot and scarred face. The disfigured intelligence officer, despite complaining about talking beyond his comfort zone seemed rather chatty today of all days.
Yes. The child-supersoldier from SPARTAN-III Gamma Company heard it from him no less than three times before. The time he revealed that such an information release clause existed. The time he asked if she wanted to process it. And then when he brought it up in idle conversation; in fact, he might have brought it up on more than one occasion…
“Just hand me the pen.”
Bless took the marble-finish fountain pen from Kallas’s grayed hand and scribbled her best legible ‘SPARTAN-G189’ on the hardcopy paper contract resting on the wooden table between the military personnel. Despite her rearing in a high-end orphanage on Reach and sophisticated learning at Camp Currahee to become a Spartan, cursive was never something she got much use out of. Or got any good at to begin with.
“Alright, here you go…” Kallas passed Bless a datapad in exchange for the single paper and pen.
A quick glance gave Bless the stuff she already knew. Well, what she expected or suspected she knew. Her name, background, skills, capabilities, achievements, health records, data records, etc.
The contents were normal. What Bless knew to be her. Bless Kazlow, born June fourteenth, 2538, and from the glassed colony world of Kholo. She was formerly with the training and regular deployment unit, Team Glaive, but transferred following the Martian operation into the Department of Colonial Security.
Kazlow, her last name, was a small oddity but not from lack of recollection. Just its story: her name given by account of the management agents at the New Alexandria Federal Conservatory. The footnote beneath her name was a new addition though.
Spartan-G189’s name is believed to be Bless Kazlow from accounts gathered by an ONI exfiltration team in Kholo’s final hours. Under intense Covenant small arms fire, the team managed to recover thirteen civilians from a small township but recordings suggest as many as ninety civilians in proximity of their shuttle. Bless was recovered in a chaotic crowd environment and over the tops of scrambling evacuees, many who did not make it. Specialist Viktoria Kearsarge noted an ONI Security officer hearing the name “Bless” shouted over the crowd and attributed as the Spartan’s birthname. The accuracy of the full name is suspect at best; however, CAA Child Protection Services entered the attribution into refugee records all the same.
Beneath the description, Bless squinted as her history and identity came undone before her very eyes.
Parents unknown, deceased. Previous residency unknown, destroyed. Kholo colonial records unknown, database corrupted or lost.
“This is all stuff I know. Stuff I did… Kallas. Where is all my information?”
The skeleton-like lieutenant commander hummed at Bless in confusion as the Spartan showed her datapad to him. His face uncharacteristically grew even more ashen the more he read despite his already discolored face.
“…there’s nothing there.”
“Yeah. There’s nothing here.” Bless confirmed in sudden frustration.
Who was she? Who were her parents? Where did she come from? What was her life before being a Spartan, or before even being an orphan?
Was Bless even her real name?
The name-calling of “Jane Doe” from the Conservatory came back to Bless with a vengeance. Days in a five-year-old’s life being surrounded by children who couldn’t or wouldn’t understand her in pettiness or her own shortcomings. It didn’t matter. They picked on her because she was different. The name wasn’t intended to insult her for being a ghost, rather to avoid setting her off while spreading rumors. But Jane Doe certainly made Bless feel like a ghost.
Names had power. Names could hurt.
The Spartan skimmed the datapad a bit more before returning her gaze to the frowning Naval Intelligence officer. Kallas technically did not have permission to know her file without her consent after all. She couldn’t blame him for being in the dark, and yet…
“Kallas. Who am I supposed to be?”
The lieutenant commander remained silent for a long time. Bless turned pale herself, silently watching and looking to the adult for some semblance of salvation.
The ONI officer finally spoke.
“I don’t know. But from now on… Anything, or anyone you want to be.”