Convergence Infinites: Halo

Chapter Sixty Eight

Location: Civilian Transport, Troy's atmosphere, en-route to Hell's Gate

Parisa yawned, as the intercom announced their imminent arrival. After being transferred onto the big colony ship along with thirty other soldiers, she had traveled aboard the ship to the edge of the star system. Due to some debris surrounding the entire orbit of the planet, no ship larger than a small corvette was allowed to enter atmosphere, and even then only with special navigational charts. Parisa had no idea what the debris was, or why it was there, but she went without much of a fuss. If she was to start her new life here, she didn't want to have a bad start with the authorities.

She moved over to one of the nearby windows, to see what was going on. Like many, she had been told they'd live in near perfect conditions, at least concerning their society. But they hadn't been informed what their environment would be like, what climate... to be honest, she didn't even know what color their new home planet primarily was.

She finally found a window that wasn't being fawned over by three other passengers. She liked her privacy in that regard. The peace to look out a window on her own, staring down on the stars.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A man asked behind her.

So much for her peace and quiet. Still, he sounded like a gentleman older than her, so she turned around out of respect. It was a naval captain of the R.I.F, in uniform, with grey hair and a closely shaved mustache and beard, seemingly in his late forties or early fifties.

"Yes." Parisa admitted. "The stars have always been a good view."

"It's one of the reasons I chose a career in naval warfare." the man admitted. "It offers beautiful views whenever you aren't being blown to bits." But he shook his head in shame. "But where are my manners? I'm captain James Cutter."

He held out his hand for shaking, which Parisa took. "Parisa Mattock. Former Marine Lieutenant."

James frowned. "Mattock? Do you happen to be related to John Mattock? The infamous Master Chief?"

Parisa sighed. She had been fortunate so far not many people had looked too closely at the names of the Spartans, but it couldn't be avoided forever. Yes, she was related to the Master Chief, Sierra-117. But that didn't say she wanted to be infamous for it.

"Yes." she admitted resentfully. "I'm his sister. One of the reasons I left: because of what ONI has done to him. I doubt he recognizes me at this point."

James sighed. "Yes. One of the more troubling things about ONI: They disregard all bystanders when they commit their... antics, I prefer to call them."

Parisa chuckled. Antics was one way of putting it. Not willing to dwell on the matter, she changed the subject. "What ship did you serve on?"

To her surprise, James chuckled. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

"More unbelievable than ending up being related to humanity's greatest hero?" she skeptically asked. "Try me."

"Fair enough." James relented. "My last command was of the Spirit of Fire, back when she went missing in twenty-five thirty-one."

She did a double-take on that one. This was the captain of the Spirit of Fire? Granted, she had done little research on the matter, focusing more on the front-line soldier stories. At the time she heard it twenty-four years ago, she'd just assumed it had been destroyed by the covenant, one of many casualties during that war. God knew that many more ships had gone missing, only for their wrecks to be found later, or something else to mark them as Destroyed. But among many, the ship had grown into a legend due to the fact not a single trace had been found, and that there had been a faint hope she's still drifting out there, somewhere. To meet living proof in the form of its captain was... a big surprise.