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Heat was never an issue for Hestia. The harsh arid temperatures of the desert was nothing compared to her truest passion. That didn’t mean she was immune to the effects it had on her body. A trail of sweat ran down the curve of her spine in the gap between her skin and the thick fabric of her undersuit. It was the only thing protecting her from the radiation that had been shot into the Kenyan desert. Before she was assigned to Farside she served as a firefighter in the Navy, but her affinity for the flame was noticed and she was reassigned. She knew how to start fires as well as how to put them out. As a child her father called her a ‘firebug’. If only he could see her now.
Farside Bases are equipped with two to three personnel labeled as ‘Arson Specialists’. These soldiers are tasked with using their ‘highly regulated’ equipment to clear dry brush, demolish old buildings, and other Farside approved duties that cannot be disclosed at this moment.
Hestia excelled as an Arson Specialist, though it had its setbacks. Not being able to ‘destroy at will’ was a mood killer and the forms needed to approve building removal was worse. It felt as though the crew, including herself, spent more time filling out paperwork for Farside than actually setting things on fire. She had no appreciation for the bureaucratic process. If anything it slowed production to a standstill. Waiting for a response from the higher ups made the process take even longer. It killed her on the inside. It was one of the many reasons why she was kicking up sand down the side of the road.
Luna base had its problems too. Hell, all the bases around the exclusion zone did. They were filled to the brim with soldiers trained for a war that was long over. She was one of them, to a point. She was never on the front lines, she only helped clean up the mess. It wasn't about glory or fame. It was about helping those who needed it. The idiots at Luna didn't see it that way. If you weren't aiming to be something as infamous as a ‘war hound’ then why did you even join the UNSC? She had gotten into enough fights about it and spent her fair share of time in the brig along with her brawling mates. There was no reason to get herself worked up about it now.
“Whatever…”
Her grip on the handle of her flame thrower adjusted. It swung beside her, occasionally scraping against her armor on a bare metal patch where the fire red paint had been worn away. The thick nylon strap sat snug across her shoulder plate as it carried most of the weight. She kicked a stray rock ahead of her. The clunk of stone on metal was the only sound she could pick up this far away from the base; and thank god for that. Non stop chatter on the PA, drunken idiots driving around, and worst of all- him. She could still hear the condescension in his voice weeks after their last encounter. The thought of Luna's resident medic made her blood boil. Ever since he arrived he had found every which way to question her mental stability. Which is why she intended to never see him, or any other Farside Personnel ever again.
Maybe she could scrap her armor for cash and use the money to find her way home. Home… She hadn’t been there in a while. Was there even a home to go back to? For all she knew it was just a pile of rubble and ash. Would her mom even want to see her? Would she even be able to find her?
When she was a teenager her father and brother had enlisted in the UNSC together. Still too young to follow, Hestia stayed at home with her mother. For a while she was content about staying home and ‘holding down the fort’, but news of the devastation caused by the war started to eat at her. There were daily reports of civilian casualties and footage of decimated cities. Not even the smaller colonies were spared. It was only a matter of time before she too enlisted. For years she and her mother fought about it. It was enough for her to see her son and husband go off to war, but her beloved daughter? Her mother didn't have any grand expectations for her, but ideas of marriage and children were brought up as constantly as her impending enlistment.
They never managed to settle their disagreements. The night before Hestia's 18th birthday they had one last screaming match. It was less of a fight and more of them venting their frustrations. She can still remember how upset her mother was. Her crystal blue eyes were overwhelmed by the redness caused by her tears. Her hair, the same bright orange as hers, messy from her pulling at it in frustration. She couldn't remember exactly what she said, but the message it carried stuck with her.
“If you are going to go, then help. I don't want you fighting. I want you to do what you've said you'd do the moment you made up your mind.”
The next day, Hestia walked herself to the nearest recruitment center. She felt bad leaving her mother alone. After she was finished with basic she had sent her a letter. She sent her many more over the course of her career with the UNSC, but she never got a response. She initially thought it was out of spite…but now…
A dull ringing sensation filled her ears as her mind wandered from one possibility to the next. The fate of her father- brother- those were known. Suddenly a sick feeling of dread engulfed her. Her stomach churned as her pace slowed until she came to a complete halt. The ringing sound overwhelmed her senses; it was the only thing she could hear aside from the voice in her head.
Was it really just her now?
The UNSC, Farside, they would have told her…right?
She turned back to the road behind her; the road that led back to Luna. If she went back now, maybe she could ask- No, what was she thinking? If she went back now she would be court martialed. It was in her best interest to keep walking.
Hestia continued her march, albeit at a slower pace. The rock she had once kicked was long gone and now the only sounds were of scraping metal and the ever consistent ringing in her ear. The sun had slowly started to ease into the restricted view offered by the narrow visor of her Recon helmet. Pretty soon it will be sundown and the desert gets cold. She lifted her hand to get a better view of the terrain ahead. It looked like parts of a canyon. Maybe she could find a cave and make herself a camp for the night- GAH!
She put a hand on the side of her helmet. The ringing was getting louder. It didn't happen often, but when it was loud like this it really hurt. Pressing the plush padding of her helmet against the affected ear seemed to help in lieu of her being unable to take it off. Even that didn’t help. Tinnitus really was a bitch. The ringing slowly morphed into a whirring sound. It really was getting worse. Wait a minute- she knew that noise.
Hestia turned around to see a warthog coming her way. A trail of dust and desert sand followed close behind. Her heart sank. Most likely someone on base tattled, and now the higher ups were here to drag her back. With a heavy sigh she took the flamethrower and its sling off her shoulder, gently placing it down on the sand beside her. As predicted the vehicle started to slow the closer it got to her. Without hesitation she raised her hands, her head hung low. Through the narrow lens of her visor she watched the tires of the hog stop directly in front of her, followed quickly by the cloud of dust.
“You need a hand there, soldier?”
His voice had a southern drawl that carried a gentler tone than she was used to. That… wasn’t her CO. She looked up at the man at the wheel. While his armor was steel grey like the others, his helmet made it clear he wasn’t from Luna. She slowly lowered her hands.
“Just a ride, if you don’t mind?” Her eyes flicked to the seat behind him. Another soldier in similar armor, but a shade of green, was slumped over. Just beyond them she could make out another person but in yellow armor. “If you have the room- that is”
The man at the wheel looked over, most likely talking to someone in the shotgun position. If she listened carefully she could probably make out their conversation. Picking up someone out in the desert was risky, not just for them. Even if they said yes, she would probably be stuck sitting in the back under the turret to keep an eye on her weapon. It would be worth it if it meant she wouldn’t be sleeping in a freezing cave tonight.
“Oh… It is her.”
Her head snapped towards the front again, making eye contact with an all too familiar white and red CQB helmet.
“YOU?!”
She reached down to grab her flamethrower. The man at the wheel raised his hands in defence. “Woah! Easy there! I take it you too know each other?"
“For better or for worse” came a dry response from his passenger.
Abandoning the idea of flashing him with flames, Hestia took a step forward, resting her boot on the running board of the ‘hog. Hoisting herself up, she rested her second boot on the door. At this angle she could get a better look at the heckler “Oh for worse and you know it”
The man showed no reaction, only looking up at her with what she could imagine was a look of mild annoyance. “Get down. This is a military vehicle, not a jungle gym.”
“You don't get to tell me what to do.” It took everything in her will not to reach past the driver and grab him “Luna can kiss my ass. I’m not going back, you hear me”
The passenger’s head leaned back a little; as it always did when a certain someone was rolling their eyes. “Can you cut the dramatics and get down? We aren’t here to take you back to that good-for-nothing outpost.”
“Please, ma’am.” came a gentle request from the driver.
She huffed in defiance before removing her boot from the door. She kept herself balanced on the step of the hog instead. Her eyes swept over to the yellow soldier in the back. If that damn medic was here, then this must have been his second half. The two of them were a package deal. It made sense that if they arrived at Luna together, that they would leave together.
“So why did you, of all people, pull over for me?”
“Actually it was me who made that call.” The man in the driver's seat spoke. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else out here on the road, let alone walking. So naturally I wanted to make sure you were alright”
“For the record: I told him not to” The medic added
“No one asked you!!” She snapped
“Alright that's enough from the both of you!” The man leaned forward, facing her to block her view from the others. “Wes here said you were one of those Arson Specialists. Farside hasn't informed us on if we did or didn’t need one.”
Hestia squinted “What do you mean? All the bases around the HUB are required to have at least two…”
“We aren't from any of the active outposts. We're part of FIXER squad. We're here to solve some of the problems happening around the VEZ.” He took a glance back at the man in the green armor seated behind him. “We could use someone a little more… reliable when it comes to heavy weaponry and explosives. At least until Duke here is better”
A chuckle came from behind him “Reliable, right...”
Her grip tightened on the side of the warthog “I already told you-” Her jaw clenched and then unclenched “That explosion wasn't my fault.” she growled. Her white knuckle grip was the only thing keeping her from reaching across the vehicle and grabbing Wes by the throat.
“Can you two please not do this?”
The tension between the two was cut by the soft and ever sweet voice of Lily. Despite her mellow personality she was one of the more competent soldiers Hestia had met during her time under Farside's management. ‘Killer Lily’ is what some of the men at Luna had nicknamed her.
She leaned forward in the vehicle, placing a hand on the shoulder of the seat in front of her. “Captain, I can assure you that Hestia is worth adding to the team. She's an expert in fire investigation and demolition. Her record is spotless concerning her job both in the UNSC and Farside… at least until-”
“-That's enough Lily; and please, I told you to call me Pops.” He turned his head back to the woman who still stood on the side of their vehicle. “Same goes for you, if you're planning on joining us”
Her eyes scanned his visor. The thick reflective coating on her own had a funny way of allowing her to see glimpses into others helmets in just the right lighting. It was to help her and other members of the Arson team survey fires without damaging their retinas. Unfortunately the sun was playing gatekeeper today and bouncing off the golden tint and right into her eyes.
For now she'd have to imagine the look on his face. If his voice was any indicator, she imagined his eyes having a kinder look to them. No harsh lines around his eyebrows from scowling, but definite crows feet. His gentle demeanor was what really allowed her to settle down as opposed to keeping her guard up. It reminded her of her own father; before the war at least.
Then there was Lily. They didn't really know each other but she didn't hesitate to put in a good word. Even if Wesley and herself despised each other, it was reassuring knowing the person closest to him didn't share the same feelings towards her. She could feel her eyes on her, meanwhile her companion was turned away, arms crossed over his chest.
Hestia let out a deep breath. “As much as I want to say no, it beats sleeping in a cave tonight.” She lowered herself off the runner of the warthog and back onto the sand “I don't know about calling you ‘Pops’ though” She smiled a little as she reached down to pick up her flamethrower.
Pops leaned over the side of the door “Like it or not that's what most of FIXER calls me, but if it makes you more comfortable, call me Greene.” His voice was a well of emotions. She could hear the smile forming on his lips. “I guess that's one thing you and the Doc will have in common”
Hestia rolled her eyes as she lifted her weapon and carried it to the back of the vehicle. She hoisted it onto the back before clambering up beside it. It was natural he would start to try and find ways to get them to get along. ‘Signs of a good captain.’ She thought to herself.
Hestia opened the storage container that spanned the back of the warthog's cabin. Inside she found a bundle of rope. She took her time making sure to secure her flame thrower in more than one place. One good bump and it could cause the hoses to the fuel tank to disconnect and spray napalm all over the back row, herself included. Once finished, she tested the ropes, tugging on the line leading to the knots.
Hestia stood up slowly, making sure she didn't hit her head on the turret. She grabbed the hand holds on the back where the gunner would usually stand during the drive into battle. It wasn't as safe as a harness, but it was better than nothing.
“I'm ready to go whenever you are.”
“What?” Pops looked back. She could feel the disappointment on his face “You aren't sitting back with the guns. There's enough space between Lily and Duke.”
She blinked.
Without a second thought she climbed over the back, carefully stepping on the seat before lowering herself between the two sets of armor. She winced at the sound of metal scraping on metal. It wasn't her fault- ‘Duke’ was dead weight sitting next to her and was a bitch to move from her cramped position in the middle seat.
As the warthog started to roll forward, the head of the green armored soldier leaned back to rest on her shoulder. The man groaned in a way she was all too familiar with. She looked over at Lily “Is he drunk?” She half whispered.
The woman beside her sighed “Wesley gave him a stim. He should be sobering up soon.”
“Hey girl~” The man said as he looked up at her helmet. “Awe man- are you a redhead? I got a thing for redheads”
Hestia could feel herself die on the inside. “Is it too late to jump off?” she deadpanned.
Pops looked back at the trio through the rear view mirror. “Unless you're fine departing with your flamethrower- Just wait until he sobers up. I promise he isn't like this… most of the time.”
Wesley glanced up to the mirror “If you want, I could push you.” A hint of sarcasm could be heard in his voice, but she knew all too well there was a chance he would.
An audible noise of discomfort was heard from Lily “Don't listen to him. I'm glad you decided to come with us ‘Tia”
“Thank you, but please don't call me that. It makes me sound like a damn princess.”
“Oh- I'm sorry.”
A shot of guilt pierced her heart. “No- I didn't mean to be mean.”
“It’s fine,” Lily reassured her. With a voice as soft as hers it was easy to overthink any response she gave. “What do you want us to call you then?”
Hestia rubbed the back of her neck. She knew what was coming next, but it wasn't her fault. The nickname was given to her by her crew and the people around her. She didn't choose it. It wasn't even what her family called her, but she would be damned if these strangers used that name in general.
“It's… uh… Hes. My crew called me Hes.”
She could feel the two men in the front shift. The medic was already looking back out the window while Pops was fixing the mirror.
“Oh? Another thing you and Wes have in common.” She could hear how amused he was.
Duke reached up, poking the side of her helmet. “I'm gonna call you, Red~”
Hestia let out a deep sigh.
This was going to be a long ride.