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The Op was over.
The Ferret Teams’ success begat a hasty retreat into the surrounding mountains, where they rendezvoused with Blue Team at a predetermined point – a small trough in the land, parallel a heavily wooded treeline, that terminated at a modest butte. The overlook into the lush canyon deep below was the pinnacle of isolation.
Proud, yawning, mountain ranges encircled Ballast's dense wilderness, thick with towering pines and humming with life - it was breathtaking. The high altitude air was cool against Veta's face, and felt so impossibly clean as it filled her lungs. Despite the inherent ecological differences, she was very suddenly drawn back to the pulsing jungles of Gao. Both so wild, pure, and defiant.
Few colonized worlds had managed to survive so completely, with their natural wonders intact, and she allowed herself a moment to fully appreciate the beauty, and bittersweet rarity of the moment. Then it was back to task, completing an encrypted challenge signal to initiate the teams' extrication effort.
Transport was a few hours out, and her Ferrets had begun assembling a camouflaged ultralight canopy to provide them cover in the meantime, with Kelly working on a small smokeless fire – it would be dark soon. Linda had taken overwatch, and Fred was retrieving fresh water from a river a hundred meters from the ridge. Everything was moving along smoothly, and in that reflection of ease, she sunk into thought about the place she stood.
Ballast.
An inner colony world that had weathered the cruel tooth of the Covenant, and come out the other side stronger, and eventually, green again.
The planet was a hub of manufacturing in it’s two major metropolitan installations, the industry cities of Vallejo and Havenwinter. The collective contribution of wartime resources from each metropolis alone had been a colossal effort; one that transcended generations, and carried on long into the post-war diaspora, all without a single murmur of reciprocity. The people here had considered it their duty; a human obligation.
The planet's historical significance was well known – it’s personal significance was not.
Veta lowered her commpad into her pocket and sighed, looking long, out over the pointed crowns of tens of thousands of noble pines. A wide river ran unbound through the canyon, cutting a jagged swath.
He had been born here.
She knew his family name, and simple census inquiries had revealed that his biological parents were still here, among various other relatives. How she’d been able to access and review those files was still deeply suspicious, and she held little doubt that the oft redacted information had more than likely been delivered to her, rather than discovered. From whom, was certainly still a mystery, but the pool of suspects was shallow when considering the gravity of the data.
The dig of temptation was still there, gnawing...a few quick civil requisition orders could yield an address in minutes. There was also Havenwinter’s public extranet, which made finding individuals laughably simple when most everyone willfully surrendered their privacy for remote social media.
Her compulsions were put on ice however, and by a single line notation.
Over a decade ago, CINCONI had offered Fred the opportunity to know his birth name and home - he had refused. Documentation specified: “Sierra-104 lacked hesitation in declination.”.
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Fred handed off the canteens of filtered water to Mark, checked in with each member of both teams, and rested his helmet on one of the fallen trunks being used as benches near their ultralight. The chill and steadiness of the mountain breeze felt invigorating, and he’d always loved the smell of pine, and dirt, and natural clean water - looking up as a raptor glided on a thermal current, he was met with an astounding nostalgia.
This place felt like home - it felt like Reach.
As he lowered his gaze away from the sky, he came upon Veta, standing out at the edge of the overlook; still, and contemplative.
Never anything in a half measure.
He wondered if her mind was ever idle, or if she spent thought on more ordinary aspects of life, like books or films or...art - well, he wasn’t really sure what her hobbies were, or if she had any...it would be a nice subject to ask her about. Veta was always pensive and introspective, but right now? Right now, she looked like a painting out there, framed before a backdrop of hinterlands as mysterious as she was-
“Or, and hear me out,”, the sudden sound of Kelly's lowered voice had him turning to face her, “you could go talk with her, instead of this…birdwatching thing you’re doing.”, he leveled a too-practiced deadpan expression into her grinning face, “…we’ve got some time, I mean. I’m going to teach the Gammas some card games. Linda is happily dug into her nest. Go talk to her.”. She landed a single pat to his bicep, “...nice and private over there too…”, and before he could snap back a retort, she left him. He couldn’t see her face, but he absolutely felt her smirking. Kelly was an instigator, for sure, but she always had her family’s best interests at heart; still, he rolled his eyes, even if she's definitely being a brat about it.
He made no effort to quiet his steps, ensuring she’d hear him approach. He was a couple meters behind, and she didn’t turn to look towards him, but her posture adjusted in a manner that not only suggested she'd heard him well enough, but that she knew it was him.
Stepping up to her left side and looking down, he was caught completely unprepared when she turned up to meet his eyes, and did nothing to hide an obvious sadness.
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Veta couldn’t hold his gaze, turning away and looking out over the howling wilderness, but he had held fast, studying her dark eyes as they searched the horizon. Under the slow descent of Ballast's yellow sun, those eyes reflected molten steel.
The woods were alive with sound and movement, the tall grass and branches shivering in the breeze, but somehow, the sound now felt so lonely.
She shook her head once.
"I think I am homesick, Fred." she said as she pulled her lips taut into a weak smile that never reached her eyes, and nervous hands tugged down on the bottom hem of her jacket; the whole gesture was so devoid of mirth, it felt almost agonizing. Her words spoken in a voice that was all at once just much too small to be Veta Lopis.
"...I know that has to sound so childish, but I just- I can't care anymore about how it sounds, I miss it, and there isn't even anything left for me there. No friends or family, not even a me. I don't exist anywhere...", quickly cutting herself short with a single, sarcastic, huff, "...how can I even say this to you...", the words hardly a whisper, but alight with bitterness.
He was still quietly watching her, and she felt heavier every second, the sense of pouring guilt becoming overwhelming. If he was noticing her being consumed in shame, he was considerate enough not to show it.
Fred licked his lips and looked out into the skyline, hoping she hadn't been interpreting his lingering look as scrutiny. She was a diminutive woman, and yet, he'd never once viewed her as a small person - even now, as she struggled with a terrible, and too familiar, complicated grief; but, her shoulders were bowing down on the edges of his sight, and he got the sense that she was caving in. Had she been any less than who she was...
He knew this slow fall, and it scared him to think he didn't exactly know how to offer a helping hand back up - not yet...but he'd be damned if he let her fall alone.
A chill crept down his spine as he carefully considered his next words.
"I never want you to think that you can't..." his voice low and even, "...say anything to me, I mean...", as he searched the sky, it offered no advice, but the idle movement was soothing.
The smallest smile pulled at the edge of his mouth, "I value your candor, Veta - it's fearless and raw, and, honestly, sometimes kind of brutal, or...um, embarrassing, but - but, I need you to know how important that is to us...", their eyes met again; her's searching, "...to me."
Twilight had rolled in, casting everything in violet and sinking blue. She visually traced the edges of his armor and felt an odd, but welcome, flood of calm; the dusky teal alloy was alive in a swirl of deep water.
It felt sudden, or maybe she hadn't noticed it before now, mentally berating herself, but there was definitely a perceptible slouch in his posture. He wasn't turning away, and the relatable pain seething just below the surface was showing too readily, becoming too real, and too close - she shut her eyes, not running away...just recalibrate, but she was getting angry; this was failure in the face of his vulnerability. The loss of Gao was still a bleeding wound, and she knew plenty well that tragedy was not a competition. It was the foolishness of initiating all this torment that wracked her most. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she felt frozen.
The Reach files had been sobering, and Veta was sure that he didn't know yet - how much she'd seen and heard - the recordings...
"It hurts...", he said, breaking through her thoughts, "...losing people; losing a home," his tone was even, volume low, and had a distinctly practiced element to it. The words themselves, though deeply meaningful, seemed as weary as they were beloved; scarcely spoken aloud, but having repeated in monologue for years, always perhaps finding him in quiet times, "...we're still here, and sometimes," he shook his head once slowly, "...sometimes that hurts too. But, we respect and preserve those memories by moving forward, right? I think it's about building a new home - together, with the people we keep closest. I like to think that everyone here," as he gestured with a shoulder down the butte, towards Blue Team and the Ferrets, pausing a moment, while the fingers of his right hand twitched just an inch toward her at his side - her gaze glancing over it and back again, "...that...you're all my home. When we’re together, we're home, Veta."
She reached out, and took his gauntleted hand. He gave a feather gentle squeeze.
A silvery shimmer was reflecting from him now, two glossy points of light in each clear water iris. Thoughts colliding on a similar wavelength, he thought the dancing white glow of Ballast's moons in the soothing onyx of her eyes reminded him of snow falling against the night.
Veta shifted her focus skyward and he was rewarded to the sudden expression of full and genuine wonder on her face, "Fred...there is two moons here?", he couldn't keep back a small smile, looking up and taking a single half step, turning towards the yawning edge of the butte. Veta turned with him, their hands still joined.
They stood silent, the world filled only with the gentle rustling of pine boughs and chirping nocturnal insects. Fred swung their hands in a small, lazy, back and forth arc a couple of times, "It really is beautiful here. It survived the war...pushed back the Covenant...ferried out resources and support services to Earth and dozens of colonies. After it all, it healed, and regrew.", his tone was reverent and thoughtful.
Veta rocked toward him and bumped their arms together once, somehow generating a tiny sway in him, despite the Mjolnir between them, "you know how I used to think you guys were unempathetic cyborg thugs, wrapped in robotic death exoskeletons? Crazy to think about that, now that I know you're really just great big teddy bears with gentle souls, waxing poetic.", his eyes shut as deep laughter rumbled from him, muffled behind a closed, smiling, mouth, and the warmth that bloomed in her chest at the sound of it drew a contented smile over her face.
They would head back down to join the others, but...in a few more minutes.
He gingerly swung their hands again.