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As Mendez stood stretching out his aging bones, enjoying his last few minutes of freedom from the active duty roster, he spotted a figure walking out of the IIC with a variant of armor he hadn't ever seen before. Curious as to who it may be, and conscious through previous observation that the man had led the rescue effort on the Dyson Sphere, he noticed to his great surprise that the man's FOF tag read HAMMER MICHAEL, LT CDR
Not believing his eyes, he rubbed them before checking his HUD once again. Stubbornly, the FOF tag refused to change and continued to display the same words.
HAMMER MICHAEL, LT CDR
His lips began to curve into a smile. His pace began to pick up. The distance between the two men began to dwindle. And the HUD continued to display the same, unchanging words.
HAMMER MICHAEL, LT CDR
Finally getting near the man, Mendez offered a brief salute, more of a passing necessity than any real formality. The salute turned quickly into an extended hand, the open palm indicating a wrist's width rather than the traditional finger squeeze
Mendez's smile was as bright as the day he had discovered cigars. He began to speak, true joy coming from his words.
"Hammer, Michael. Who would've ever thunk it."

Bringing his old friend for a round of spine-jarring back-slaps, Franklin thought he felt the vestiges of what used to be tears ducts almost open up again.
Almost.
Looking Hammer over, he was satisfied to note that the man seemed more or less intact, maybe one or two more facial scars, but on the whole healthy-looking. Taking out two of his cigars from what seemed to other to be a bottomless fatigue pouch, he lit one and offered the other to Hammer.
"It's been too long, friend. Care for a cuban?"

The smile on Mendez's face froze for a second, as memories of not his own grad day, but those of the children he had trained to be sent to the slaughter passed through his mind like a photo album.
"Yeah," he said, slightly subdued in voice, "yeah, I remember it like is was yesterday."
The two began walking to the side of the Pelican Bay, to the small office where they could have a more private chat and reminisce of times gone by.
"So, you have to tell me about what you've been doing over the past few years. Not often someone goes all the way from Private to Lieutenant Commander, and it seems you fit the pants pretty well!"
He took another puff of his cigar, letting a small ring of smoke from between his lips with the words he was saying. The guilt he knew wasn't his to bear still weighed heavily on his conscience.

The names ran through Mendez's memory, reminding him of all the time he had spent off the field. Frankly, though, he felt his skills were better spent making sure children weren't running to completely useless deaths.
"Oh. Nothing so glamorous. Just baby-sitting for Halsey's brainchilds."
He began playing with a small desk-toy as he sat in the chair facing Hammer's, the cheap plastic seat slightly creaking with his weight. He put down the small trinket and looked Hammer in the eyes again.
"You know, making sure they don't trip on their own feet or shoot themselves."

Dansmith turned to Warren once his tray was disposed of, and offered the man a hand up. Still a bit woozey on his feet, Ashton stumbled a bit, but caught himself before too many people noticed.
"Well, I have to head over to the barracks and stowe the rest of my gear--" He hefted his supply-dwindled med pack, "-- and then figure out a thing or two with the Captain concerning our precious cargo. You haven't heard anything from him since we evaced, have you?"
Warren shook his head, and Ashton shrugged.

"Well, I should get going. You, Master Sergeant, need some rest. Consider those doctor's orders. Can't have you snoozing during the debriefing, it would just look unprofessional."
And, we can't have you bleeding out during debriefing, either. That would just look disgusting, and would leave a terrible mess on the floor.
As your better half, I suggest you get some expertise from the good Doctor Halsey. I'll ping her Comm to let her know you'll be looking for her, though she's a very impatient woman. Tends to her Spartans before herself, you know. An A.I. could get used to that sort of attention.
I'll talk to her after I get stashed away and speak with the Captain. She probably has a few things to sort away, anyway. Though, let's not act like she wouldn't be at least a little interested in our Forerunner-induced situation.

Giving Warren a curt nod and a look that said, take care of yourself, Ashton patted his full stomach as he walked from the mess towards the crew elevator which would lead to the barracks.

Warren was satisfied to an extent with Ashton answers about his incident, so it left one more loose end to tie up, the destroyed monitor. He got up and decided he would leave his questions about the machine till the de-briefing. He walked down a hallway and was tempted to visit Lee in the medical bay, but decided not to. Enough of Able was rushing down there, to many visitors at one time would be pointless.

He found himself strolling down the hall way, not to sure where he was going. He didn't feel like practicing shooting or sleeping, even thou he had dozed off earlier. He found a very dark and deserted hallway and walked in, not to sure why. "Odd, wonder why the lights arn't on here." Warren said to himself. "Better go report it to maintenance." Warren decided.

Warren found to mechanics out side the engine room and was about to tell them about the hallway, until he over heard there conversation. "I'm telling you, we should just kill all those that can't make recoveries in the med bay" The one mechanic argued. "There just sitting there in pain, and to die in a few days, were fighting a war" He continued. " Know what you mean, there just slowing us down, and focusing our attention else where" The other mechanic agreed. Warren made a fist a hard as he could and felt like striking the men, but decided not to. His temper had been way to out of whack lately, and he needed to regain control on it. He turned around and walked away, disgusted.

[[[[ Shortly after the mission ]]]]

Mendez's gaze followed Hammer's, passing and fixing onto the two marines enjoying their down time. Before he joined the UNSC, the Chief would have given almost anything for a decent grav ball and field. That's when Hammer's news of Leito's survival came.
"What? The kid's alive?!"
His expression soured as he thought about what a faked death had to imply.
"Wait... Mike... ONI didn't sink it's fangs into one of my boys, did it?"

---- Elsewhere----
Lee knew he was dreaming. At least, he thought he had to be, since all he was seeing over and over again was the few moments preceding his flight of fancy and a vision of himself pinned to a giant bug case. No matter what he did, though, he would always go from running to flying to pinned to the wall. It probably had some strange, higher meaning to it all, but honestly right at that moment Lee could care less. All he knew was that he was apparently some giant freak's new prize in a giant butterfly collection of sadism, and he wanted out of this nightmare before it drove him insane.

Outside of the coma, Doctors and nurses scurried about, a few select individuals closely monitoring the Captain's vital signs. The metal pole in his stomach seemed slightly radioactive in nature, and was interfering atrociously with the observation equipment the staff was attempting to picture Lee's insides with. What the doctors didn't know, though, was why on the second day of treatment the pole separated into two halves and simply fell off of the Captain's body.
Closer inspection revealed that the pole had been eaten by stomach acids, and that the Captain had no visible scars of the event. DNA and further testing revealed anomalies in the Captain's immune and circulatory systems that were the cause for such regenerative abilities, but also that these attributes weren't normal to his family.
Lee's identity and family history was now in question. Scared, and seeking answers, the medical staff resolved to ask Lee once he woke up. The coma wasn't looking any better, even though Lee's wounds had disappeared without a trace...