Chapter Text
“Thirteen… fourteen… fifteen…”
Hestia pressed her lips into a thin line. This was the second time she had counted the Pyrosene-V containers. Usually inventory was their teammate Uri's job, but with him out sick the task was left to her. She took a second glance at the piece of paper in her hand. Uri's handwriting was between barely legible and unrecognizable scribbles. She squinted her eyes as she looked at the fuel count for the P-V. She wasn't mistaken. That definitely was a poorly written ‘18’. Two fuel tanks had already been set aside for use later. Then why were there only 15? The Farside Arson Spec. handbook strictly states that flamethrowers should be disconnected from any fuel source before being stored.
Hestia turned her head to the side, resting her eyes on the storage lockers for the flamethrowers. Each locker had a big red triangle with a black flame symbol. Above that was a name plate for each specialist. There was a chance that in his feverish haze Uri forgot to unload his weapon. Unfortunately it was protocol to lock the weapons away when not in use. So, unless she was able to get Uri's key, she wouldn't be able to check.
It was only one container. Eventually it would pop up. The staging area for the squad wasn't exactly big. She had seen storage units bigger than the space she stood in now. There was enough room for their lockers, the fuel storage, and a shelf for the tanks. Their captain, Nina, had told Farside several times that Luna did not have the correct storage specifications for the fuel tanks in particular. Having them sit on an open shelf was an accident waiting to happen. The only reply she had gotten back was “as long as the staging area is locked while not in use, it is fine.”
She took the arms of her undersuit secured around her waist and tugged on them, making sure the tie was secure. She sank down to her knees, leaned forward, and took a quick look under the shelf in front of her. Eventually the canister would turn up in one of the usual spots, but something itched at the back of her mind. A gut feeling that she needed to know where the canister was.
“Looking for something?”
A loud bang was heard as Hestia's head slammed against the heavy metal support of the lower shelf. “Fucking- OWWW” She reeled back, curling herself into a ball as she held her head. Her mane of hair did nothing to cushion the blow.
She could hear someone just outside the doorway wince. The noise sounded closer to a hiss as it was filtered through the speakers on their helmet.
Peaking an eye open, she looked up to see who had so rudely startled her. Just outside the doorway was a man in stark white armor. His helmet was unique but not uncommon to see. There were a handful of people at Luna who were equipped with EOD helmets, but only one with the striking white and red pattern: the new medic. She had only seen him in passing, but never really got the chance to speak with him. Word on the street was that he was a hardass, a man with a no-nonsense attitude. Definitely someone she would want to avoid. Especially on a day like today.
“Jeeze. You could have knocked first” She hissed in pain as her fingers pressed against the impact point. She was for sure going to have a goose egg later.
“The door was open. I thought I would come and make sure no unauthorized personnel were getting at any of the equipment.”
God his voice was deep. The only other person she knew with a register that low was her CO. No wonder she had jumped earlier. His tone was flat and straight to the point.
“Well, as you can see, an Arson Specialist is clearly in here and wrapping up.” She placed a hand on the lower shelf, using it to help herself up. She only wore the lower portion of her suit. It was normal to find herself or one of the other Arson Spec's in this state of undress. It helped with relaxing their upper body before big jobs or training. They learned it from the Heavy Artillery crew.
Cautiously she approached the door where he stood. Her arms crossed as she shifted her weight to one of her legs. Aside from the armor the only other articles of clothing she wore were a grey tank top and a black sports bra. It was a common look amongst women in the UNSC, though some opted to wear a t-shirt for a little more coverage. Hestia didn’t mind if she showed off more skin than others. Her body seemed to run warm, so the less clothing the better.
The EOD helmets were the most human of them all. Instead of a single standard visor it had two lenses. She looked at her reflection. She looked more warped on the smaller surface than a standard visor. Shorter too. From a distance most Farside operatives looked to be the same in stature, but the closer you got the easier it was to tell how different everyone was. Hestia was tall for a woman, but the medic before her was slightly taller. He probably had an inch or two over her.
“Is there anything else you need?” There was a bite of annoyance in her tone. As much as she liked standing around and doing nothing, there were other places she needed to be.
The man tilted his helmet, his view shifting to her hand. “What do you have there?”
Hestia folded the paper with her fingers, obscuring any writing he might be able to see. “None of your business.” She kept her eyes glued to his helmet. “Can you move now-”
He cut her off “-What exactly are you doing with a piece of paper? Shouldn't you be using the standard data pad?” His inquiry was genuine. A little too genuine for her liking.
Her eyes narrowed. “What's it to you? Medics have no business knowing how we do our inventory”
“Inventory?”
‘Shit.’ A jolt of panic shot through her body.
“Why are you taking inventory on a piece of paper?” His voice raised slightly “Don't you at least destroy them after logging them in the system?”
The conversation had quickly shifted to something closer to an officer scolding their subordinate. It put her on edge. She kept her arms crossed, clenching her fists as her arms tightened against her chest. The rumors were right, he really was a hard ass. But there was something more… she couldn't exactly put her finger on it.
“Look- I'm not the one who usually does this. I'm just making sure we have what we need for tonight, and then I'm going to check in with my Captain.”
She could see her face in the reflection of his lenses. Her narrowed eyebrows and closed off position was a clear sign that this conversation, or at least anything related to that damn paper, was over. She wanted to push past him but a man in a full suit of armor was hard to shove. She's tried.
He opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly he snapped his head to the side. Now looking down the hall he moved just enough for Hestia to poke her upper body out.
“I told you before: no unauthorized personnel are allowed back here” The same authoritative tone once directed at her was now aimed towards a random man walking down the hall.
The marine froze, clearly startled. “I uh- I'm looking for something I dropped” His eyes quickly darted from the medic to Hestia. He looked shocked, like he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to… in a way, he was.
“Johnson?” Hestia recognized his voice. She had met him a handful of times. He was close with Uri… probably closer. “Oh- uh- Uri is out sick so I'm doing inventory until he's better. Sorry” That gut feeling stirred in her once more. If he was as close with him as she thought, he would know that.
Though he didn't move, she could feel the medic shoot a disappointed look her way. It wasn't her position to say anything. What Uri did during the day wasn't any of her business. She didn't care as long as he got his job done.
Johnson chuckled nervously as he started to back down the hallway, the medic’s gaze still locked on him. Hestia took the opportunity to squeeze past him, brushing her shoulder against his own. Before he could react her hand was on the control panel and the door to the arson staging room had firmly shut. A faint hissing sound could be heard as the room sealed followed by a beep which signaled the completion of the locking measures.
“I’d love to stay and chat, Doc, but Johnson and I have to get going”
The man took a step back, finally giving her some space “I wasn't done talking to you.”
“Well that sucks.” She said as she turned to walk down the hall. “Maybe you’ll catch me at the fire tonight!” She yelled. Catching up to Johnson, she draped her arm over his shoulders. “Come on lover boy, we got somewhere to be” As they walked a shiver ran down her spine. She could feel the medic’s eyes boring holes into her back. Turning the corner she took a glance over her shoulder, but the medic was gone.