Discharge

The two of them moved at a brisk pace; the Spartan striding through the corridors of Fajardo, the diminutive black-suited agent clearly working to keep pace. Their flight down to Earth had been all small talk; probing questions about how Hari's trainees were doing, and measured responses or careful deflections in response. After all, if ONI wanted to know how the latest batch of Spartan-IVs was coming along, they certainly didn't need to ask her.
Now, though, she was all business. 
"So. Remind me who it is the Office thinks needs handholding."
"You should've already been briefed on this, Harriet."
"Well, I wasn't. Humour me." It was painfully obvious most of the time when spooks were actively trying not to use her designation, and Hari was starting to dislike this one already.
"Owain, Beta-176. Pulled from the company into Team VENOM, specialising in demolition and heavy ordnance. All other members of VENOM were KIA on Reach, and one-seventy-six was admitted to Fajardo after a violent bout on the jump back to Earth." The agent spoke in calm, measured tones, as if simply reading off the day's duty roster.
"He fight here?"
"No, by the time the Morricone reached Sol the armistice had been declared." 
"Got it." Of course, the spook didn't say the war was over. It was barely a ceasefire. 
"The Administrative AI - Yuki, I believe - objected to his early release, but we overruled her with the condition that we'd have him monitored, keep an eye on how fit he is for service. So, you're to bring Beta one-seventy-six back up to combat readiness while in transit, but once you get to Reach you're strictly hands-off." 
"Babysitting then, rather than handholding."
Her tone was the vocal equivalent of a shrug. "If you'd prefer to call it that." 
Hari stopped there on the spot, turning to face the diminutive officer. "Why me?" 
"I'm sorry?"
"This is Earth. You've got countless shrinks and handlers a half-hour flight away who could do the job. So, why have me be babysitting Owain?"
"Beta one-seventy-six... well, he has been in treatment effectively since the armistice, and assessments by both Yuki and the Office expressed some concern over his emotional state even now. To put it candidly, he's still not over his team." And how many fucking doctorates did it take to figure that one out? "We decided that pairing him with another Spartan would be the best option for a prompt return to readiness. It'll be more familiar to him, and easier to handle anything that might go awry."
Hari was really getting to dislike this spook. "That doesn't answer the question, though. Why me?"
"Well, your exemplary performance as an instructor, for a start!" The woman's smile was presumably meant to be disarming, but all it was was uncanny. "But you're fairly familiar with handling new augmentees, and we expect one-seventy-six to need that same kind of easing-in to things. That you were readily available was just a bonus, as was your... comparable operational experience."
So you wanted someone qualified in losing teams, did you? 
"Now, if that'll be all-"
"One more thing."
"Of course."
"You haven't actually told me what he's needed on Reach for."
"Oh, Harriet." The smile grew wider and more plastic by the second. "The Office doesn't get its reputation for efficiency by repeating the same briefing twice in two minutes." She turned away, continuing her pace down the corridor. "Come along, now."
I could punch her. I could punch her right now - just a light tap in the back of the head, just enough to get me pulled from this mission, just so-
The doors ahead of them opened.
-----
"Down, please. And up again." 
The MJOLNIR-clad figure, trussed-up in a frame as it was, towered over its attending technicians and the doctor that accompanied them. Against the scale of the armour frame and the individual spreadeagled in it, the nodding motion looked tiny, inconsequential - but after a few taps at an instrument panel, the doctor received a nod. 
"View calibration, gyroscopics are all sorted, he's good to go." 
"Thank you, specialist. Owain, you may step down now."
The figure clambered down awkwardly from the frame, one hand reaching up to remove its helmet and set it down to one side.
"Thank you."
"How are you feeling?"
"It's... I'm alright."
"I must apologise for all of this; I'm sure this armour may still have some rather uncomfortable, or even painful associations for you, but I'm afraid there was little else avail-"
"Doctor?" The room's speakers awoke, voice piped down from the observation deck above. "Is the patient prepared?"
"Almost, ma'am. You can join us any time you'd like." The figure up on the deck gave no response, but her body language made her displeasure known. She stepped to one side - as did the armoured outline following her - and a harsh whirr filled the air as a platform lowered down to the deck of the armour bay. The attending doctor and armour technicians busied themselves as the two newcomers descended, the agent stepping forward first with her nondescript-yet-smart uniform.
"Good afternoon, Spartan. I see that you're doing well."
"Ma'am. I've been told that I'm needed on Reach, ma'am." To the point, and with all the subtlety of the MJOLNIR gauntlet wrapped around his hand. Owain clearly wasn't here for the niceties either.
"That is correct. The New Alexandria Superintendent appears to have emerged from safe mode after being thought lost when the planet was, and from what we can ascertain it believes the Fall is still ongoing. There's a wealth of intel we can recover from it, but we need-"
"-someone that worked with it."
"Yes."
"I see. And your partner?" The Spartan that stood behind the spook, helmet cradled in her arms, looked to be about the same age as Owain was - but the face didn't ring a bell. "There were more Betas on Reach? I don't think I know you from back in training, but it's been years-"
"Not relevant. She's to be your handler for this deployment-"
"I'm a Gamma." 
The pair of responses hit Owain like a double-barrelled shotgun. Another company after Beta? - But she looked the same age as him? - But they thought he needed a handler? - But how much could someone a generation below him even know about-
"Hari, Gamma-oh-five-five. Formerly of Team Kalis, currently a close-combat instructor at Orbital Station Baker." She stepped forward, offering her hand, oblivious to the officer's glare burning holes into her armour.
He didn't take it, instead looking past her. "Gamma Company? Ma'am, she's barely a kid, and you-
Hari chirped up, just momentarily. "Actually, the records say that you spent so much time in cryo that you're not that much-"
"-an instructor? Come on, this is ridiculous." 
"Beta one-seventy-six, I am sure you don't need to be reminded that we are not exactly awash with combat-proven Spartans that survived the closing stages of the war." Now the agent's voice was ice-cold, and Hari questioned the wisdom of striking a nerve like this on their first meeting. "Spartan Gamma-zero-fifty-five acquitted herself well in the Battle for Earth, across a number of challenging sustained, high-tempo operations. I have absolute faith in her ability in this regard."
"Like hell sh-"
"Yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am." A generation junior or not, Hari's voice still carried enough weight to effectively put her foot down. "Will that be all?"
"One more thing, fifty-five - you've got one more introduction to make before departure."
-----
Hari and her new acquaintance watched from the observation platform as Owain began his exercises - a series of tests, working through his armour's mobility after so long out of it.
"He looks... slow, clumsy. Off. Are you sure that suit's up to the task?" Hari couldn't help but find her eyes drawn to the scorches and dents on its outer shell. "I know it's all that they have for him, but it looks like it's been through the wars."
"According to his service vitae, Owain-B176 and his associated team VENOM were mostly engaged in long-range deep strikes within Covenant territory, targeting high-value individuals and materiel, rather than conventional warfare."
"I'm speaking figuratively."
"Ah, yes. Of course." The holographic avatar next to her, sat cross-legged on a patch of virtual turf initialled CTR-1748-5, nodded belatedly. "In that case, I can assure you that regardless of cosmetic imperfections, Owain-B176 is operating a perfectly functional set of MJOLNIR Gen1 armour. In fact, I would go so far as to say that its protective capability arguably outstrips yours."
"Thank you, Crabtree."
"In a more logistically permissive environment, external titanium-A plating would be rather simple to replace or even upgrade; significantly more so than the power core replacement that your own suit would need to meet Gen1 standards. While the SPI-derived component is quite the admirable example of ingenious jury-rigging, I can't imagine that-"
"Thanks, Crabtree. That's all." 
A brief few seconds of uncomfortable silence passed between them.
"...still. His movements. He looks like - I'd say he looks like he doesn't trust the suit, but he doesn't really have that reflexive punch-pulling kind of movement that you see in newly augmented IVs. Maybe he just doesn't trust himself to make those movements."
"Hm." A noncommittal response from Crabtree - perhaps a passive-aggressive one in response to her prior snappiness, but she didn't think the Dumb AI had the programming for that.
Then, Owain's voice from below, piped up through COM. 
"When do we leave?" He was standing in the bay below, looking upwards at the observation deck - and Hari couldn't help but feel he'd somehow heard every word she had said.
"Well, you've got the whole flight to Reach to test your hypotheses."
Category:Tooth and Blade