im just letting u know josie that u are personally responsible for this
“Ha-ha, ha!”
Kurt suppressed the urge to admonish Holly for giggling over TEAMCOM. Useless noise while in combat muddied communication for the rest of the team, and Team Saber, no matter how well trained, hadn’t been through the fire of live combat before. But she’d only let her laughter slip out once they’d sealed the bunker and confirmed they were safe from enemy fire, and he had trouble himself stifling a similar reaction, so he let the outburst slide.
“Put Dr. Halsey there,” he ordered to Olivia and Dante with the point of a finger to the southeast corner of the small concrete room. They placed her down with care, folding the thermally reflective blanket back properly over her body and propping her head up with a supply pack. “We’ll check her vitals and take a breather here for now.”
“Orders for us, sir?”
Kurt looked to his left and down. Ash stared up at him, helmet in hand and wavy hair plastered to his head with sweat and blood. He swayed a little where he stood, blinking heavily.
Sleep, he wanted to say. “At ease for now, Spartan,” he said instead, then, after reconsidering, added, “Rotate shifts, thirty minutes each. Keep weapons and armour close.” That last part was unnecessary, but Ash’s sleepy stare made him look half as young as he really was, and it got the better of Kurt for a moment.
The clink of a lighter made him look towards Mendez, who was already in the process of lighting a cigar before he’d even had the chance to properly catch his breath. Kurt didn’t have the time to ask him if he should perhaps have a drink of water first, because Kelly’s fist connected with the left pauldron of his SPI armour, hard enough to dent the reflective material.
He staggered back from the blow, and the impact made every Spartan in the room train their weapon on Kelly. Kurt spammed amber signal status lights at them as he clutched at his shoulder. The barrels of their rifles wavered and lowered after a moment, but none of them stepped out of their defensive stances.
“You’re alive,” Kelly said to him through a private COM. It sounded like an accusation more than anything.
“For now,” he replied warily, nodding his faceplate to the dented pauldron of his armour. He unfastened his helmet with his free hand and stared straight into her visor, knowing it would calm her. He couldn’t see her face, but Kelly was practically vibrating, visible even through her Mjolnir. Twenty years later, and she still wasn’t any better at hiding her emotions. He grinned, feeling the skin of his mouth tighten in a reflexive smile that for once didn’t feel alien on his face.
Kelly went completely still at the gesture, and then he registered movement only a fraction of a second before his feet left the ground and two massive arms wrapped around the comparatively thinner SPI gear he was wearing.
“You’re alive,” she whispered again, this time through her mic so that he could hear her. He returned the hug–though it was more of an arm-lock than a hug–and finally let that small bubble of laughter tucked beneath his ribs escape. It left his lungs too soon, but the hollow space it left behind felt a lot smaller than usual.
“For now,” he replied in kind, letting his words sound as strangled as he felt. Kelly exhaled and took in breath in one sharp second, her own version of a laugh, and put him down after a moment. In her bulkier armour, he had to look up to meet her visor, which she’d depolarized to show her own grin. It looked like home.
“It better stay that way,” she said, and he couldn’t think of disobeying her.
The thunderous sound of Fred’s voice echoed across the deck, loud enough to stop most officers in their tracks and stare in open horror at the Mjolnir clad Spartan making a rapid beeline straight for her. She should probably be scared, but the look on his face as he stormed towards her told her exactly why he was so upset, and she couldn’t help her grin.
“Fix whatever you did to my HUD,” he demanded, and shoved his helmet so hard into her chest that she had to put out her back leg to keep her balance.
She was about to ask how exactly he knew that she was the one who’d snuck in a small program into the code of his HUD that looped a picture of Lopis inside a heart around his visor, but he was already turning to leave–and she’d have come to the same conclusion in his shoes, anyway.
“Now,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument, and she decided that a comment about his field commission to lieutenant finally going to his head was better kept to herself.
Duty & Honour: « It is our duty to protect humanity »
This is from a larger WIP I have going right now, but I decided to post this snippet for Kelly’s day for #BlueTeamWeek! It’s set just before the On The Brink comic.
“You got anything, Blue-Four?”
“Negative.” Linda sounded even more curt than usual. “Again.”
“Aye,” Kelly sighed, sending her a green status light in a consolatory gesture. She peered over the crest of hard earth and out towards the research facility. The only other member of Blue Team in sight was John, who was turned towards the southern edge of the complex, staring out at the desert. She allowed herself to watch him for a moment before turning away and skidding downhill. One hundred twenty-two more paces and she’d complete her third perimeter check of the construction site around the facility. The most interesting thing she’d seen had been a weird burrowing lizard that had squawked at her as she passed by its nest, and she was tempted to go disturb it on purpose now, if only to give her something to do.
“Order’s will get here soon,” Chief assured them over TEAMCOM. “Just have to be patient.”
Kelly didn’t bother to remind him he’d said that two hours ago. Instead, she made sure the sparse outcropping of desert scrub-bush nearby wasn’t housing any hidden Covenant battalions and leaned against the closest rock when she confirmed she was alone. Her helmet did an excellent job of filtering out any dust from the planet’s atmosphere, but the air was still dry as all hell. She pulled up the lip of her helmet and downed the contents of the water pouch from her hip compartment, sighing again when it was empty. Exhaustion and boredom were a really bad combination while deployed, and she was starting to run low on ideas of how to remedy either of them.
Kelly took a few minutes to rest and eventually saw Fred circle around to her position from the other direction. She nodded to him in greeting when he got close, and his helmet dipped forward in reply.
“You good?” He asked over a private frequency.
She waggled the empty water canteen in her hand. “Just having a quick pit stop.”
“We should start taking shifts if this keeps up.” His visor turned towards the facility, which was obstructed by cresting hills and thick fencing from where they stood. “It’s dangerous to be going this long without a proper rest.”
It was subtle, and if she wanted to she could easily ignore it, but the hint of disapproval in his voice made her bristle. “Chief knows what he’s doing, sir.”
Fred lifted up his own helmet to take a drink of water, and the copper tint of his visor cast a ruddy glow over his face. He looked painfully old in the harsh desert light, and her heart clenched. “I don’t doubt that he does,” Fred replied, capping his water.
“But?”
“But he’s being reckless,” he finished, giving her a measured look. “Navy’s got more Spartans now than they know what to do with. Enough that we can take a day to rest without the galaxy blowing up.”
She gave him a tired smirk. “Someone’s got to set an example for the Fours, though, don’t they?”
He slid his helmet back down, but not before she saw the responding smile. “Suppose you’re right.”
“Blue-Three, report.”
“All clear, sir,” Fred responded immediately, switching back to TEAMCOM. The accusation and the uncertainty in his voice was gone—he just sounded calm now, if a bit weary. “Permission for Kelly and I to head back?”
“Affirmative. Perimeter can’t get much more secure than this.”
They made their way back around, following the path Kelly had stamped smooth with all their walking. They’d meet up with Linda and John and then they’d… wait for orders. Her nose wrinkled at the thought.
“Chief’s tired, too,” she said to Fred behind her. “He’s just being productive with it.”
“Was that an insult, Petty Officer?”
“I’m not the one gossiping about Team Leader in the bushes.”
Fred snorted in lieu of replying, but he sounded like his old self again, and she relaxed. The transition back to Chief being Blue Leader hadn’t been seamless, and even though the Lieutenant had been quick to relinquish control of Blue Team back to John, she knew he was still adjusting. They all were, really. And Fred’s reservations about the intensity of their deployments were coming from a good place, even if she didn’t like having sidebar conversations about John while on duty. Even if she agreed with everything Fred was saying.
when the first person you’ve ever wanted to smooch is a diehard anti-unsc cop who never follows orders and loves to constantly almost die doing insane shit
Time's Vengeance 