Chapter Text
“You're fucking kidding me.”
Ava grit her teeth as she took in the reactions of her unit. Hers had been much the same when the order had come down the line. David and Jack stared at her incredulously, David having been the one to speak up.
“Sarge, tell me you're kidding. They can't be serious about this.”
“They are. The first recruits arrive in a couple days, and since we lost half our squad in the last assault against the Covenant we're among the first to be getting one.”
David stood up and kicked the chair he'd been sitting on. It slammed into the wall, the metal legs leaving a dent. Ava didn't scold him for his outburst; internally, she was seething in much the same way. Jack was always quiet, especially compared to David, but she could tell by his expression he didn't approve of this either.
“Listen. I'm as happy about this as the two of you are. Do you think I just nodded my head and said ‘okay, send him in'? You don't have to like him or make friends with him at all,” she certainly didn't plan to, “but while he's on our team, he's one of us. Understood?”
“One of us?! He's a fucking hingehead! How many of us have they killed?! And now that the Covenant has abandoned them we're just supposed to play happy welcome committee?! Fuck's sake… do you even know which hingehead is being assigned to us?”
Ava swallowed because she did. She hadn't been able to control her own outburst when she'd heard, and she'd argued with the Commander for a good fifteen minutes when she'd been told. Her rank had been at risk but she had to stand up for herself and her team. The Commander had yelled at her to shut the fuck up and listen a minute! before she'd finally clenched her jaw against the torrent of words trying to spill out.
You think I'm any happier about this than you are? Than the rest of the marines will be? I'm not. I've seen what the squidheads can do first hand, same as you. But if the Master Chief and the Arbiter can set aside their differences to fight together, we better damn well do the same. A long, heavy moment of tense breathing. Look. Command isn't any happier about this than the rest of us, but you know just as well as I do that we've been fighting a losing war. With the Elites on our side we might finally stand a chance to win this thing… or at least take less losses. They're a warrior culture, so if you need to sic him on a fucking baby kong and get the fuck out, you do that. A finger pointed at her. But I know you, Ava. I know the way you run your ship, and you're not gonna like who's coming, but I can't trust any other unit here with him. We'll have a Spartan staying with us for the interim while all of the Elites get settled, so if you need to call for him at all, you do it. Don't hesitate. There's going to be wrinkles as we get this shit straightened out, but if those wrinkles are risking our lives then the Elites are gonna have to deal with a few missing bodies. As far as they can be concerned, it happened in battle.
“Yes,” she finally said, “we're getting the Butcher.”
Every marine worth their salt knew the chance of returning to civilian life was slim to none. If you were lucky you lost a limb or two, were unable to continue battling, and you went back to civilization. If you weren't lucky… well. New recruits could often be found crying in a corner or their bunk within the first year. There was no glory in death to humans; at least, not to most of them. There was only family and friends left behind, and every day there were fewer and fewer of them. A fact that had historically been in part to the Elites that were now walking down the ramp. Ava stood at parade rest with David and Jack among the front of the hanger, having been placed there along with a handful of other units that had been lucky enough to receive Elites of their own. She clenched her hands into tight fists behind her back but her expression didn't change. The Elites walked in a loose grouping behind a Spartan in bright red armor. One Elite in particular walked closely behind it, looking around. When the Spartan stopped before the Marines the Elites did as well, staying in formation.
There must have been something wrong with the Spartan because it waved cheerfully and then took its helmet off, earning a hiss from the closest Elite that it - she - ignored.
“G'mornin’, all!” She said in a cheerful drawl. Her hair was buzzcut and about as red as her armor, face covered in scars, but her smile was wide and genuine. “Th’ name's Enkyla, number oh-four-two. Y'all can call me Kel. Me an’ this big guy,” she patted the chest of the Elite behind her in a friendly manner, “are here to be your liaisons, as it were, with the new squads. Qey, introduce yourself.”
The Elite stepped forward. In her armor, Kel was a little taller than him. It was so easy to forget how huge Elites were outside of battle.
“Greetings, UNSC marines. My name is Naqi ‘Salcam. I will be in charge of my fellow Sangheili during our time together. If you have any problems, please do not hesitate to inform myself or Enkyla and we will see to it that the problems are taken care of.” He nodded respectfully towards the gathered humans and stepped back. Enkyla clapped once and set a hand on her hips.
“Riveting! Thank you, Qey. Let's get everyone's assignments in order and then we can go from there.” Enkyla pulled a piece of paper from a pocket in her armor and cleared her throat. Ava spaced out a bit as she watched the way Naqi ‘Salcam encroached upon the Spartan's space to read over her shoulder. She could hear the shifting and creaking of others around her and knew they were just as fixated on the proximity as she was. They hadn't been allowed to bring weapons to the assembly, but if that damned gator made an attempt on the Spartan from such a close range…
“...with the 8th Squad of the 13th platoon of Gamma company, Sai ‘Monas.” Ava looked up at the announcement of her squad, and bit back a scowl as the Elite that was to be hers stepped forward. He was a good bit larger than the others, practically double Ava's own height, broader with darker scales. His eyes were not the same coyote-yellow of the others, but closer to a shade of whiskey. Swallowing her anger at the sight of the Butcher, Ava stepped forward.
“That will be us.” She stuck out her hand, determined to be respectful despite her rage at the circumstances. No one would be able to say she didn't try. The Butcher blinked and waited before he leaned over to shake it. “Pleasure to have you on board.”