Chapter 10

        A week into Ilos’s mandatory bed rest, and Jackson was already starting to feel claustrophobic. The walls of their home no longer felt as comforting, as he had gotten too used to the endless freedom of space. Despite his own injuries, the Spartan was eager to get back onto the field. Yet their future remained uncertain.

        It was on the eighth day that Jackson was finally allowed to see Kia. She looked even worse than she did on the Covenant Destroyer. Her missing arm was covered in blood spotted bandages, and her usually tanned skin was shockingly pale. She lay in her bed hooked up to an array of machines looking both exhausted and annoyed.

        “Hey squad lead,” Kia greeted as the other Spartan entered the room.

        Jackson’s wound had almost completed healed, leaving a harsh reminder of the Covenant’s fury across his face. It still hurt, and probably always would. The Spartan counted his blessings that he hadn’t lost anything, unlike the warrior laying before him.

        His expression fell, and he couldn’t help but feel responsible, and seeing Kia as she was in that moment made the weight come crashing down.

        “Boy, if I wasn’t so damn drugged up right now, I’d get up and slap that look right off of you,” Kia said, startling the squad leader with her ferocity. “I ain’t dead, and I’ve already been approved for a replacement. So stop looking like I ran over your cat, or so help me I’ll put you in a headlock and give you the worst noogie of your life.”

        The Squad leader blinked in surprise, then nodded his respect. “I’ll be back later to serve your dinner. Get some rest,” he said.

        “Listen to your own damn advice, Jackson. You took a beating just like the rest of us!” Kia shouted after him.

        Even though he was exhausted, sore, and feeling ill, the squad leader made sure to visit each of his Spartan’s rooms in turn. He made sure they were comfortable and had what they needed, before he made his way back to his own room. It was then that he heard the clicking of heels and looked down the hall to see Waylen, the Spartan’s director, walking hurriedly down the hall.

        Her lab coat billowed out behind her, and the woman clutched a holo-pad in one hand. She was beaming as she approached the squad leader. “I was right, you are up!” she exclaimed. The woman was practically bouncing on her heels with excitement as she looked up at the squad leader. “I’m here for Kia’s report. Baseless Accusations said she had it ready,” Waylen said.

        Jackson’s expression soured, and his muscles tensed up. As usual, the director only cared about her own interests. She didn’t even notice the quite obvious close call the squad leader had to being decapitated.

        Without a word, Jackson led the director to Kia’s room. The female Spartan had fallen asleep, but the director ran inside before Jackson could stop her.

        When Kia jerked awake, the director hesitated when she saw the Spartan’s missing arm. “Oh…what happened here?” Waylen asked. Jackson was surprised to hear concern in her tone.

        “Hunter caught me,” Kia responded shortly.

        “That’s a shame,” the director said, then began looking around her bedside. “Have you got the report you promised?”

        The female Spartan reached under her pillow and tossed it hard at the director. Had she been better, Jackson was sure the throw would have been hard enough to break the datapad. Instead it bounced off of the director’s chest and fell back onto the bed.

        After briefly scanning over Kia’s report, the director studied the health reports at the foot of the Spartan’s bed. Her mood shot back up as she read it. “Good, you’ve already been approved for a new arm! I’ll be working on your next mission, and we’ll have you out as soon as possible.”

        Jackson then realized her only reason for concern was for her own selfish desires. Again. Waylen wasn’t worried that Kia had lost her arm, rather she was worried that the Spartan wouldn’t be able to serve her needs anymore.

        Jackson snapped. He whirled on the director and knocked her to the floor hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. He then planted his feet in the doorway to his teammates room. “I am so god damn tired of your selfish attitude,” the squad leader snarled. His fingers balled into fists, and he struggled to keep them at his sides. “Leave her alone.”

        Jackson stepped aside as ODST’s clad in full battle armor, each aiming weapons loaded with live rounds, appeared in the hallway. He watched Waylen flee with a small sense of satisfaction, and no small sense of anger. The squad leader must have looked as angry as he felt, because the ODST’s quickly left with the director in tow as well as the entire medical staff.

        “You good now?” Kia asked once it had all settled down.

        The squad leader didn’t answer, but rather left the medical wing and returned to their personal quarters at the bottom of the base. There, Baseless Accusations’ avatar appeared walking side-by-side with the Spartan.

        “The medical staff are requesting you stay separate from the others during the recovery period,” the AI told him. “They do not want another ‘incident’ to occur.”

        Jackson went to their debriefing room and leaned against the server towers and gazed at the empty holographic projector. He was trying to cool his temper and put aside his distaste for the project’s Director.

        Baseless Accusations shifted its avatar to the holographic projector and sat in silence for a moment. “Waylen has put in a request for food from the local ramen shop to be delivered to the Spartan’s medical wing,” the AI said. “I haven’t heard anything about discharges, either.”

     The Spartan shook his head as he said, “She just doesn’t want to lose the only things keeping her from being disappeared.”

        “I don’t think she is quite as unfeeling as you seem to think, Spartan,” the AI gently said.

        “Tell that to me the next time she goes out of her way to help us,” the squad leader said, then pushed away from the projector. “Until then, I don’t want to hear it.”

        It was a few days of solitary confinement down in the Spartan’s barracks that Jackson was ordered to. The squad leader had regained full use of his eye, and the wound was already beginning to form a scar.

        It was quite the surprise when the elevator pinged an arrival. The squad leader was perplexed, as any of his teammates would have had unrestricted access to enter, and not many people even had permissions to get to their level. Jackson grabbed his Magnum sidearm and cautiously approached the door.

        The doors swung open, and the Spartan found himself aiming his weapon at a woman dressed in ONI slacks with sleek black hair, and a piercing gaze. She blinked in surprise to the weapon in her face, then cleared her throat.

        “Pardon my intrusion, but I wanted to speak with you about a few things,” the woman said.

        “Acc, identify,” Jackson instructed. He held his aim as the AI ran the stranger’s identity.

        “Lieutenant Evelyn Dane, from ONI high command,” Baseless Accusations answered.

        The Spartan lowered his weapon, but kept the safety off. He used his body as a barricade to keep the woman from entering their barracks.

        “High command has re-assigned me to Project Freebird to help progress your training and assist with the coordination of field projects,” Evelyn said. “As your new mission coordinator, I have a few questions for you.”

        Red flags were going off in Jackson’s mind, but he had no reason to question the Lieutenant yet. “You may begin,” the squad leader announced.

        Producing a datapad, the Lieutenant began to run through a series of questions about quality of life, command effectiveness, and a general rundown of how their missions away from base went.

        Then the Lieutenant switched subjects to their first mission; specifically about Grizer. “How did you find your first lead?” she asked.

        Jackson hesitated to answer, and was growing increasingly suspicious. “All you need to know has been detailed in my report,” he said.

        “That is correct, but I need notes to add to your squadmates stories as well,” Evelyn said.

        Jackson clenched his jaw, and tightened the grip on the pistol in his hand. “I think you have overstayed your welcome, Lieutenant,” he said.

        Evelyn picked up on the implications immediately and quickly backed into the elevator. “Thank you for your time, Spartan.”

        When the woman was gone, Baseless Accusation’s avatar stood beside Jackson. “There is no reason to be suspicious. I have verified her mission parameters, and they come from Admiral Parangosky herself.”

        Jackson walked to his bedside and put his weapon back down. “Something’s off,” he said. “Tell the medical staff I’m coming.”

        Baseless Accusations appeared in front of the Spartan, blocking his path. “You are not allowed back yet,” he protested.

        Jackson ignored the AI and walked through the projection and took the elevator one level up to the medical wing.

        What met him as the doors opened was a line of ODST’s with their weapons leveled. “I’m sorry, sir, we can’t let you in,” one of them said.

        “You aren’t going to keep me from seeing my team,” Jackson growled.

        Another racked a slug into his shotgun, then said, “We have our orders.”

        Time slowed to a crawl as Jackson lunged forwards and grabbed the barrel of the Shotgun and wrenched it from the ODST’s hands. He heard bones break as the Spartan turned the weapon on the ODST’s. Instead of firing, the squad leader smashed the butt into the side of a second soldier’s head. He grabbed his unconscious body and used it as a shield as the others turned on him.

        The few seconds it took for the others to react was enough time for Waylen to scramble down the hall. “Stop!” she shouted. “Stop!”

        Jackson stood his ground, shotgun in one hand and ODST in the other. He stared the other soldiers down as the director came to stand between them.

        “Stand down, all of you!” she pleaded.

        The ODST’s reluctantly lowered their weapons, and Jackson let both his weapon and his shield drop to the floor. He stood aside as the others took their injured friend and hauled him off to one of the empty rooms.

        “Baseless Accusations said you were coming,” Waylen said, looking flustered. “I didn’t have time to tell the Troopers.”

        Jackson, still angry with the director, said nothing. Instead he marched off to Parkson’s room and knocked on the door before entering.

        The red haired Spartan was sitting on the edge of his bed, datapad in hand. His legs were in protective braces, which didn’t allow for much flexibility. Overall, he was healing just as well as the others.

        Jackson leaned against the wall as Parkson set down his datapad and met the squad leader with a welcoming smile. “Still keeping tabs on everything?” Jackson asked.

        The Spartan nodded, then handed over the datapad. On screen was security footage taken from the barracks of Jackson’s meeting with Lieutenant Evelyn. The timeline was frozen right as the woman stepped out of the elevator. On a secondary window was the Lieutenant’s service record, and a third was the confidential information that ONI had redacted.

        Jackson poured over what ONI had hidden, but handed the datapad back when he didn’t find anything of interest. “I give, what am I looking for?” he asked.

        Parkson maximized the confidential window and tapped his finger on the Lieutenant’s homeworld. Baseless Accusations, having been watching, chimed in with; “Mesa Absolutus. An Outer Colony settlement that was lost to the Covenant two years ago,” he said.

        It hit the squad leader what the other Spartan was implying, that the Lieutenant might have insurrectionist ties. Though the possibility that an insurrectionist could infiltrate so far into ONI command was remarkably slim, it was still a possibility.

        “Great work, Spartan,” Jackson said. “Keep an eye on her, let me know if anything changes.”

        Having confirmed his suspicions with his teammate, Jackson walked back to the elevator, and paused when he heard footsteps approaching him.

        “Jackson, wait,” Waylen said.

        The squad leader turned around and was having a hard time keeping the distaste out of his expression. Even still, he waited for the director to say what she wanted.

        “I’m sorry that you feel I’m selfish, but what reason do you have to believe this?” Waylen started. “I gave up years of my life to create the very project that is entirely dedicated to making you what you are now. The hours of sleep I’ve lost staying up to make sure everything was in place, and your training came along how it should.”

        In his mind, Jackson cut through the bullshit and realized she wasn’t doing even a second of self-reflection. The squad leader’s anger spiked again, and he was struggling to control the thoughts of violence that bubbled up into his mind.

It was at that moment that Chase appeared out of his room and shouted down the hallway, “Squad lead, the hell you doing up here?”

        The massive Spartan eased himself between Waylen and Jackson, then guided the squad leader back into the elevator. “It ain’t worth it,” Chase whispered as the doors closed, and Jackson was still glaring at the director.

        When the two arrived back in the Spartan’s barracks, the squad leader went to his bed and sat down, elbows on knees and gaze fixed absently onto the floor. Chase sat next to him in silence until Jackson spoke up.

        “I don’t like the way this project is going. Too many new faces,” he said.

        “Talking about the new Lieutenant?”

        “Yeah. It was hard enough keeping the Covenant off our backs with the team we had. ONI is putting us all in danger by adding new people.”

        “We’ve got our eyes on her. Don’t worry about us,” Chase said confidently. “Kia says she’ll be battle ready in another week once her arm gets in, and Parkson is sure he’s got another day or two until he’s up and dancin’ again.”

        The squad leader took a moment to look around the room, and let out a quiet sigh. “This place used to feel a lot bigger,” he said.

        “You know it,” Chase responded, then slapped the squad leader on the back. “I’ll be cleared whether the doc’s like it or not tomorrow. We can run some training then. ‘Till then, keep your head up. We’ll be back to running and gunning soon.”

        With that, the massive Spartan left Jackson alone in the barracks with the quiet hum of the lights, and the expanding worry of his own thoughts.