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Catherine ignored all of the looks she got and the mumbling, a man came forward and claimed to be Dansmith. Thank the gods! I was ready to snap… “Dansmith, the Ashton Dansmith?” Without waiting for an answer Catherine began fishing around in her pockets and from them emerged a crumpled up piece of paper. “These are my Transfer papers. ODST Master Sergeant Catherine Lynne Kaiser, re-assigned to Able Company from Outpost Omega VSix.” She roughly unfolded the piece of paper and handed it to him, “ I was told to report to you since I couldn’t find any of the…” Her voice died when she noticed the man standing to Ashton’s side…He had the sign of a Commander. “Ah…”

Catherine flushed hastily and saluted finely, “Sir!...Master Gunnery Sergeant Catherine Lynne Kaiser…ah…reporting for duty Sir…new transfer…” She felt a bit dumb repeating what she had just said and trailed off, instead she just handed him the papers. Catherine however, refused to avert her eyes, and stowed her flushed face, replacing it was a calm serene one. “What’s going on here sir?”

"no trouble, ma'am. Glad I could help?"
Only a bit confused at the woman's strange behavior, Sergeant Dansmith didn't take any of it too bad: he had earned himself a promotion, and was feeling the age-old "runner's high". Even so...Bipolar, do you think? It is my job to okay everyone before they serve here.
Two words, Dansmith. Menstruel. Cycle. Good for scaring the s**t out of the Covenant. In any event, congratulations. Now, you get to run through even more fire, risking both our lives even more! Sometimes I wish you weren't a medic.
Can't say I've ever felt the same way, Angel. Not once.

Following the conversation, Dansmith was vaguely aware that Anthony and Seth had stepped aside. All for the better, tensions were running slightly on the... high side. He made a mental note to administer some mild sedatives through the ship's mess hall, just enough to take the edge off.

"We're mobilizing, Sergeant" he said to the girl. He needed someone to watch his tail, and this transfer had come at just the right time. Down on Earth everything was going to hell, and for orders to come in for a CO to drop in an HEV than the s**t was hitting the fan. Unfortunately he had needed someone to keep his a** covered while he made his way through the jungle, and it looked like he had found the perfect person to do that. "Kaiser, grab your gear, suit up, and haul a** to HEV Station-01; we're dropping" he said grabbing his ODST Prototype armor helmet and moving past her to find his only joy left; a Cuban cigar.

Catherine saluted “Yessir.” She turned and glared at Ashton, “You had better not give me anymore trouble.” She mutters under her breath. Catherine went to a locker and got a Shotgun, two grenades and began suiting up. She pulled on her boots and clipped on her chest piece. I wonder where were going…
She was finishing suiting up and felt out of place, no one here knew her and there were barely any other women…At least I had some friends on the outpost. C
Catherine hustled out and had to find the HEV droppods…I’ll find them…WITHOUT any preteen desk-jobs help. She got into her droppod, helmet on and geared up she had two pistols strapped to her left and right thiegh and had her shotgun locked into place. “Im ready Commander.” Catherine reported into the radio.

Michael placed his MA6K into the holster of the pod before double timing it around the pod bay. There were going to be four of them out there; Hartwell, Kaiser, Marcbe, and him and he was intent on making sure they all made it. With each pod he came up to he banged once on the outer shell, and received two bangs back for good to go. Hammer rushed back to his pod, and shut his pod door, "alright, dropping in ten! Remember to regroup after the drop."

"....Karr, out." Ashton marched over to the little Nav marker, labeled "RALLY_ALPHA", and stood near his fellow marines, suited up and ready to kick some absolute a**. He was feeling it, too. They were about to land in one serious muck of hell, and he was wondering if there was even anyone left to save. Most of the Orbital MAC Installations were just a figment of their memories, long-ago having melted away and fallen to earth's surface.

On the pre-mission screen, Dansmith noticed the missing platforms, and knew that was all the more Covenant ships that could enter Earth, unharrassed. But then he noticed something peculiar...
"Sir, are those Covenant cruisers firing on eachother?" He though for a moment, wondering how this could be possible. All of the Covenant believed in eventual spiritual transcension from the physical world, so why would any of them fight eachother? And yet, there they were, melting and blasting and palsma-projector-ing eachother to atoms.

Well, I can't claim I've seen stranger things, but this sure is up there.

--- Three Days Ago ---

The face of Doctor Catherine Halsey was an example of melancholy sadness as she stood up from the dining table she had been sitting at. In the background, light piano notes fluttered through the air, a comforting but slightly haunting tune permeating the room with an even more morbid atmosphere. As she looked at the slumped over forms around her, she almost sighed but held back the push of breath that threatened to escape her chest. Folding her small glasses and slipping them into her lab coat, she undid her tight ponytail and spoke to herself, sure that her message would reach it's intended recipient.

"Jerrod, would you please turn the music off?"

The tiny pea-sized AI seemed like a speck of light shimmering above the room's inbuilt data-crystal port, the tiny butler persona not visibly giving but most assuredly performing the electronic equivalent of a bow. A slightly british accent came back through the speakers that had until a moment ago been playing some of Halsey's favorite Debussy.

"Done, ma'am. How else may I be of service?"

Halsey looked down at Fred's sleeping form in front of her. Putting her hand on his armored shoulder for a few seconds, she wiped away a tear, her resolve for saving her children renewed by the memory of their many sacrifices. The deaths of Spartans had to stop. The UNSC was sending them to early graves, and she wasn't going to let it happen again.
Better to give them a chance at normal lives than to allow them to continue dying needlessly. She looked at Jerrod's small pea-sized hologram and let go of Fred's shoulder.

"The nearest prepared pelican, please. Secure it from all outside interference and download yourself onto it's systems. Also, a grav-sled and a cargo container large enough to fit fourteen large hu-"

Halsey's sentence was cut halfway as one of the many slumped forms in the room stirred awake. Even though the drugs should have been strong enough to cause complete loss of motor control and awareness, Kelly's signature body language was obvious to the Doctor's trained eyes. Halsey's eyes widened in surprise as the Spartan looked around itself at it's sleeping brothers and sisters, then turned it's gaze back at the Doctor.

One sentence came from the super-soldier's speakers before they cut off in a patch of interference.
"This time, you're going to let me help."

Halsey nodded, tears now streaming freely down her cheeks. Taking a few steps forwards, she got closer to Kelly, who didn't back away but instead closed the distance with a single step of her massive size. Putting her arms around Kelly, Halsey allowed herself to show weakness in front of one of her Spartans for the first time since the program had begun, so many years ago.
Why didn't I show them how much I cared when they could still understand it?
Why did I rob them of their innocence?
Halsey sobbed, rivulets of salty tears streaking Kelly's Olive-Green armor, and slowly, as if unsure as to whether it was appropriate or not, Kelly's arms raised and grasped the Doctor's shoulders. Pushing her away, but gently, Kelly wiped a few tears off of Halsey's face with two fingers, then streaked them across her faceplate in the secret Spartan smile. The message, though unspoken, was made perfectly clear.

There will be time to share emotion later. Now, we make haste.

A few minutes later, a shorter delicate looking engineer accompanied by a much stronger looking female technician strolled through the halls of the UNSC Monterey, a huge cargo sled in tow. Out of her armor, no one recognized the Spartan's partially scarred face, burn marks healed only by extensive cryo surgery performed by none other that the disguised Halsey, walking next to Kelly in full engineer's uniform and face-masking makeup. The two women casually slipped past the guards to Pelican Bay 6, ignoring the cat calls and various whistles the bored marines uttered at the sight of two female crew members. Easily loading the cargo container onto the Pelican Jerrod had prepared, Halsey and Kelly slipped into the cockpit to the machine and closed the hatch as the engines began to heat up.

A nearby controller noticed the abnormality, but before he had time to react, the pelican flew right out of the docking bay, into territories unknown and a future unbound by fate.

Mendez was pissed. He wasn't allowed to drop in his HEV, he had to go in on a pelican with some smart-a** pilot snapping some corny joke back over the intercom every three seconds. Oh, how he wanted to stick his BR55's barrel down the pilot's throat and blow him away. Thumps from AA fire on the ground brought Mendez back to reality. He'd always thought of it this way. A complete s**t hole. Sighing, Mendez looked out towards the opening pelican bay door. Flashes of AA fire went off all around them, and he wished again that he was in an HEV. The ride down was always the greatest, "Feet First into Hell." Checking his ammo clips, Mendez took the safety off his rifle.