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This fanfiction article, No Rest For the Weary, was written by Sonasaurus. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission. |
| 0600 HOURS (UNSC STANDARD) // MARCH 3, 2553
Location: ABOARD UNSC PRISON VESSEL EPOCH OF SILENCE // PERSIA SYSTEM, EXACT LOCATION UNKNOWN |
The blaring screech of an alarm filled Valerie’s ears. Her eyes shot open as she sat up from her bed, one hand reaching for the handgun on her hip. She felt rough fabric brush against her fingertips instead and paused, peering down at the slate-grey jumpsuit she was wearing. Her hand clenched into a fist as she remembered. The war is over. We won.
A bitter smile crept onto Valerie’s face as the details re-emerged one by one. The Battle for Earth, the arrival of the Flood—somehow in the final, crucial moments, humanity had pulled itself back from the brink of extinction. A treaty had been ratified with the Sangheili merely weeks ago, and word was that Lord Hood was seeing off their unlikely allies at the newly built Voi Memorial. And here I am, sitting in a cell. ONI didn’t need her anymore, and so she was left to drift through space, where she—and all the secrets she kept for them—would never see the light of day.
This is precisely what they’re good at. Project Freelancer, an under-the-table investment they sent me to keep an eye on...they can’t have me talking about it. She knew the real reason they locked her up. After the Flood threat had been painstakingly eradicated, the remaining Freelancers scattered almost immediately. Some managed to appropriate a handful of ships and left Earth, while others went into hiding during the aftermath of the battle.
“Don’t tell me where you’re going,” Valerie had told the ones who were still in contact with her. “It’s better if I don’t know. I’ll be able to find you if I need to.” It was clear from the beginning that ONI would want their loose ends tied up. I just didn’t realize I’d be one of them. I should have known better.
And of course, there was the matter of Agent Texas. Not even Admiral Parangosky herself was able to guess where Tex had disappeared, and when Parangosky didn’t get her way, people tended to disappear as well. Valerie had no idea if the Admiral actually suspected her involvement or if she just needed a scapegoat as per usual, but the end result was the same. I’m stuck here already, and I’m not saying a word. There are secrets worth more than I am—ONI taught me that much, at least.
It was then that Valerie noticed something. The guards that were supposed to usher the inmates out for their morning meal hadn’t arrived. In fact, the entire detention block was silent outside. Slowly, she walked up to the titanium door and pressed an ear against it, listening attentively. She had been transported onto the Epoch of Silence the previous night, but the ex-officer had done enough interrogations aboard UNSC prison vessels to know the routine. By ONI standards, breaking procedure means one of two things: either they’re screwing with me to get information, or I’m about to get snuffed. I don’t think I’m game for either.
The reinforced door suddenly slid open, prompting Valerie to quickly step away. She peeked out into the deserted hallway, wondering what this could possibly be about. Her eyes scanned the interior of her cell, looking for a makeshift weapon even as her mind recalled that its contents were securely fastened. None of the other cells had been opened, which only furthered her suspicions that something was afoot.
A flickering light appeared outside the door, and Valerie jerked back with uncharacteristic surprise. Once again she instinctively reached for a gun that wasn’t there, and froze as the translucent image of an armoured grey form materialized, standing at face level before her. “That’s a good look on you, Montana,” the hologram snickered. “Makes it easier to believe there’s a human being underneath all that secrecy.”
Valerie scowled. “I don’t go by that name anymore, Texas.”
“You don’t go by ‘Lieutenant’ anymore either, so what do you want me to call you?”
“Confused as hell, for starters. What are you doing here?”
“I was here before you were brought on board,” replied Tex nonchalantly. “I have friends who need to have a word with you. Apparently you’ve met one of their representatives during Project Freelancer.”
Valerie’s breath caught in her throat. “The Assembly,” she whispered. “So you did find them.”
“More like they found me, but I’ll catch you up once you’re off this ship. The guards in this sector have already been flushed out the airlock and I’ve disabled the alarms, but you’re going to have to have to cover my tracks—the messier the better.”
“Messy isn’t my forté,” the ex-officer muttered, even as she made for the exit at the end of the corridor with Tex floating next to her.
“Well, you’d better give it a go, unless you want ONI to piece together what happened here. Your stubbornness will have been for nothing, and bad things will happen.”
“You mean worse than jettisoning a bunch of guards that were doing their jobs?” The doors parted as Valerie approached, and indeed there was no one present in the adjacent corridor.
“Since when did you develop a conscience?”
“Since we took down the Director, remember? I thought we agreed to take the straight and narrow.”
“And how’s that working out for you so far?” Tex asked sarcastically.
She hasn’t changed one bit. Valerie bit back a retort, and instead she asked, “So what’s this about? Why do your new friends want to bail me out?”
“The war may be finished, but our job isn’t,” the AI said simply. “The UNSC left a lot of colonies to fend for themselves, and their pet Spartans sure as hell ain’t gonna deal with it. Besides,” she added, “Parangosky’s got her own plans regarding that treaty, and you’re not going to like it. So if you’d rather act on that conscience of yours instead of being stuck here, you’re going to have to do a bit of collateral damage.”
Valerie resisted the urge to sigh. “Business as usual, then.”
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