Prompt: A Curious Connection for @flashfictionfridayofficial
Fandom: Halo TV Series (Silver Timeline)
Summary: Kurt remembers Julia, and Julia’s brother. (What’s in a name?)
Notes: Set in my Silver Timeline Kurt-051 head canon, going along with my fic Kurt Ambrose and the Ghost of Onyx. Unedited. @authortobenamedlater, look, more of Silver Timeline Kurt! Need more of yours, too!
Spartan Training Facility
Lights Out
Kurt opened his eyes but otherwise remained utterly still as he stared at the ceiling of the barracks, attempting to figure out what woke him.
Illumination was still at ‘Lights Out’ level, and a glance at the one narrow window at the end of his bunk show showed it was still night. There were no klaxons going off and no drill instructors standing over them with batons. Though, that hadn’t happened in years. He sniffed the air for smoke or other gasses, but detected nothing. Then he heard that soft sound of a door.
He sat up and met Nora’s brown eyes, sitting up on her own bunk. She made the sign for J and then 013. He inclined his head in question and she gave a gesture for unknown. Kurt narrowed his eyes in consideration. The facilities were in the opposite direction. Julia left by the exit to outside.
Both he and Nora slipped on their waiting boots and made their way down the line. Other recruits were awake, but didn’t join. Kurt took the lead going out, looking for handlers or other personnel before motioning to Nora it was clear.
There were only so many directions Julia could have gone without immediate detection. They wound up climbing a storm drain to the roof. Over months, recruits had been nudging some of the surveillance equipment to create blind spots. Centimeters at a time so The Watch wouldn’t notice. Kurt suspected Dr. Halsey and her AI assistant noticed, but it didn’t seem to have been mentioned to their drill instructors.
Julia sat on the roof with her knees folded so she could rest her chin on them. “I’m not making a break for it,” she mumbled at Kurt and Nora’s approach.
“This would be a shitty starting point if you were,” Nora said, crouching next to her. “Maybe if you make the jump to the commissary...”
Kurt glanced at the adjacent building, maybe twelve meters away, and considered. They were getting to a point where they could almost make it with a running start.
“What are you doing up here?” Nora asked.
“I had a dream,” Julia said. “Wanted some air.”
Kurt moved to sit on Julia’s other side. “What was it about?” he asked. Nearly everyone hated talking to the camp phycologists, but more of his fellow recruits would talk to him. Sometimes it made them feel better, and that made him feel better.
Julia didn’t talk for several minutes. “Do you ever think about your old name?”
“No,” Nora said, while Kurt admitted, “I don’t remember it.”
Julia pressed her forehead against her folded arms. “A lady was calling for me by a name. I knew it was mine from before I was Julia-013, but I can’t quite remember it, just ‘Julia Ah...’“
“You need to forget that. Dr. Halsey says all the before stuff is a distraction,” Nora said mumbled, eyes focused on an owl swooping in the tree line. “Becoming a Spartan is all that matters.”
“And I want to be a good one,” Julia said. “I just can’t help remembering before, sometimes. I miss my brother.”
Nora shifted uncomfortably while Kurt gently put his hand on Julia’s back, because it seemed like the right thing to do. His instincts were usually right about this sort of thing.
“He always held my hand and kept me safe,” she said, and her voice cracked. “I wish I could remember the name we shared. Ah... Something.”
Kurt rubbed Julia’s back as the three of them sat in silence until they had to get back to their bunks.
Dropship Ares
In descent to Camp Currahee, Onyx
Ackerson, Kurt thought to himself. Ackerson was the name Julia had been searching for all those years ago.
There was a jolt of thrusters coming online as the dropship transitioned from the vacuum of space into planetary atmosphere. Safety straps strained against his chest, reminding him of his lack of armor. The regulation uniform was uncomfortable. Its stiff collar chafed his neck, laden with the Lieutenant insignia he didn’t feel was earned.
He did a scan of the other four, no, five occupants of the transport. Dr. Henry Glassman was absorbed with whatever was on his tablet, while drill instructors Kerrigan and Hardy were discussing the results of some sporting event. Project Hauteclere was in a case next to him. Nora. Or what was left of her. He wondered if a crystal matrix being transported felt like sleep or if it was claustrophobic.
Kurt shook his head a fraction. It was still awkward having to be concerned with emotions. But, back in training, he always had been. John was better at mustering the troops. Kurt had been better at understanding them.
His gaze flickered over to the final occupant of the dropship. Colonel James Ackerson. Kurt’s new superior officer and Dr. Halsey’s replacement.
There was a chance he wasn’t related to Julia, but Kurt knew in his gut this had to be her brother. His age was right. He had the same coloration in skin and hair. Similar bone structure with the high cheekbones, but Julia never had the chance to lose the ‘baby fat’ and gain definition. The question was, did he know Julia had been part of the Spartan II class? It seemed impossible to be a coincidence. Did he know what happened to her?
“Is there something you want to say, Lieutenant Ambrose?” Ackerson asked, noticing the attention and meeting Kurt’s eyes.
There it was, in Ackerson’s eyes. That hostility that Kurt felt directed at him and not at the same time. The sense taking over the Spartan Program was not simply a post, it was personal.
“No, sir,” Kurt said. “Just ready to see the camp.”
The Silver Timeline Central tricked me into writing this. But I wasn't fast enough, @authortobenamedlater got to Silver Timeline Kurt first, go read Wake-Up Call instead!! (It's really good. Also, Veronica Dare. 'Nuff said.)
If you're still here, here's my entry on bringing Kurt into Silver Timeline, along with my one person fan campaign to bring justice to Nora-098, who got fridged without ever being seen.
Fandom: Halo TV Series (Silver Timeline)
Unedited. I will clean it up before it goes on A03, so feel free to wait for the shiny version.
Notes: Made Kurt's Team Emerald because I wanted it to have a little extra pizzaz like Silver and Cobalt.
The instant Emerald Team's boots hit the ground on Mamore, Kurt's sixth sense began to nag him.
It prickled at the back of his skull just above where his neural implant was, a sensation like someone was intently staring at him from behind. He dully remembered when he felt it in his gut, too. Back before augmentation. Before he was trained to ignore 'illogical inclinations he could not clarify,' and hormonal suppression pellets dampened it. There were moments Kurt questioned if ignoring a sense, even an illogical one, was really an upgrade.
His four Spartan team dropped in to evacuate a military base while Silver Team escorted VIPs on the other side of the planet.
Mamore was a goner.
Covenant ships were already in atmosphere and organizing themselves to begin glassing. COMs were screaming with back and forth messages, and reports from ships moving to exit orbit were reporting the Covenant flagship was carving a symbol into the Northern Hemisphere. Orders from New Shanghai were for all personnel to return to the ship, which included both Spartan teams.
"Was sending us down to immediately calls us back really necessary?" Malcolm asked as he fired at group of fleeing Grunts.
"No," Solomon answered while lobbing a pair of frag grenades over their cover.
They were providing a distraction and target while the last of Fort Trevor was evacuated. The first effort had been arrested by a large group of Covenant dropping in, which was why Emerald Team had been rerouted from supporting Silver Team.
"Emerald Four, status," Kurt called over the COM as he tracked the groups of Covenant on the field. That nagging feeling was persistent.
"Checking the last bunker." Anton relied and paused. "All bunkers clear. They're all on the birds."
Kurt singled out a Jackal sniper trying to take aim behind some rubble and took them out with a Carbine he scavenged. He tapped the command channel. "This is Spartan-051, Emerald One. Birds are ready to fly, prepare cover fire." He listened to the reply by he was already switching back to TeamCOM. "Emerald Four, pull back to the Condor. The rest of us are behind."
That amorphous sense that he was supposed to ignore was persistent, and getting stronger.
Solomon lifted a launcher and fired their last rocket at a Grunt trying to maneuver a Ghost into the area. They used the plume of debris and Grunt bits as cover.
Kurt switched over the general Spartan COM and heard a familiar voice, New Shanghai acting as relay in orbit. "Chief!" Kai was calling. It was good to hear her voice. "We got to go! What's your ETA?"
John's response wasn't immediate and Kurt felt a horrible sensation in his gut. It was years since he felt the twisting nausea. "Two minutes," Master Chief answered after seconds of delay. Kurt almost felt relief, almost told himself Dr. Halsey was right about his 'sixth sense.' Then, "Spartan-098 is KIA."
Malcolm's steps lost sync for a mere fraction of a second, but long enough Kurt knew he was listening in as well. Nora was gone.
The Captain of New Shanghai cut in on John's request for recovery. "Negative. Orders have been updated to leave behind anyone unable to get to the dropships, even you, Spartan. Get to extraction and on that Pelican. We have to evacuate this system, now."
"I copy," Master Chief said. "Spartan-117 on the way."
Emerald Team was running at full pelt through what had been the Fort Trevor's motor pool. Anton signaled he was at the Condor and had it ready for departure, slipspace drive powering for evacuation as soon as they were in orbit.
Kurt couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong.
Jackals and Grunts in these numbers weren't deployed without Elite overseers. So where were the Elites? Had they evacuated in preparation of Mamore's glassing? The Covenant never cared how many troops they left behind, and the Elites he observed on other planets seemed to be honored by being left behind.
Something was wrong...
This was the obvious path back to the landing pad. Emerald Team cleared it on their way to the bunkers, but it was unusual for Covenant forces, even just stragglers, not to have returned. The Jackals were pursuing from behind only, not attempting sniper fire or to get around the retreating Spartans.
Trap.
Kurt dropped to a knee as the funny feeling crescendoed into something he couldn't ignore. He barely avoided a plasma sword swinging through the air where his neck would have been.
Solomon and Malcolm had been ahead of him and spun to fire at the shimmer holding a floating sword behind Kurt. The camouflage fell and the Elite roared as the ammo caused its shields to flare. Kurt saw a clods of dust from heavy footsteps on approach behind his teammates.
"On your left!" Kurt called as he shoved back to his feet and struck the Elite with the butt of his assault rifle.
The Elite staggered and the sword dropped as Kurt fired until his clip was empty and the Elite's shield's were gone, along with most of its head. "Keep moving," Kurt called over TeamCOM, knowing Solomon and Malcolm had removed their threat. "Emerald Four. That Condor lifts off in two minutes. I don't care who's on it."
His bad feeling wasn't abating.
Two Elites.
That still wasn't enough for the amount of...
Kurt didn't feel the pain so much as his body rocked forward and lifted from the ground while his HUD exploded in a fury of messages. His assault rifle slipped from his grasp as he looked down at the glowing blue-white plasma blade sticking out of his chest.
Three.
Yeah. Three Elites would be the right number of Elites for the force they encountered so far.
Blood bubbled from his lips, preventing him from speaking as he heard Solomon shouting and felt the ricochet of bullets bouncing off the Elite's shields. Fortunately his connection to his armor was still good as he sent a waypoint to the rest of Emerald Team and marked it as priority. They needed to get off Mamore. Needed to regroup with Silver Team and the Master Chief.
He saw his vitals flashing warnings. The damage to his lung he could push through for a while, but the sword struck his heart.
Kurt changed his status to MIA and transferred Leader priority to Solomon's armor and cutting himself out of Emerald Team's connection. They were good Spartans. They'd follow his last orders.
The Elite dropped Kurt to the ground, because he Elites were arrogant to a fault. Kurt fell on his hands and knees and idly wondered how Covenant could kill so many humans, destroy so many world, while ignoring their surroundings.
Kurt grabbed the plasma sword hilt dropped by Elite he already killed and used the last of his strength to ignite and drive it straight into the standing Elite's chest. The swords' charge wore down, but they sure did cut through shields like they were nothing but air.
They fell and Kurt closed his eyes.
His sixth sense wasn't nagging him anymore.
.
.
.
Spartan-098 Armor Self-Destruct Protocols: Initiated Silver Team Leader, S-117. Paused.
Spartan-098 Armor Auto Response: Signal Transmitting.
Spartan-051 Armor Auto Response: Signal Transmitting.
Signal Interception, UNSC Prowler Silent Overwatch, on station at Mamore.
ONI Initiative 20122647HJN, Above Top Secret, Enacted. Recovery of Vital Military Resources, Authorization, Parangosky, Margaret O. 00230-00923-MP
Prowler Recovery Team dispatched.
.
.
.
"Spartan-051, it's time to wake up."
Kurt opened his eyes slowly and took in the unfamiliar surroundings.
It was some kind of medical facility, but not like any medbay he recognized. The space was small and enclosed. He wouldn't have been able to stand at full height. There was enough room for a Spartan length bed and space for a person to walk around it, but little else. The walls were covered by screens and monitors, many showing readings he supposed related to him, some were even embedded in the celling. The only blank space was the direction of his feet, and he assumed that section of wall slid away to provide entry and exit.
The technology was advanced, but ONI advanced and not Covenant advanced.
His armor was gone.
"Decided to stop being lazy?" asked the voice, and it was the first familiar in the sea of unfamiliarity. Nora.
"Spartan-098?" he called as he licked his lips and dared to actually move his head.
"Close enough."
That dry note in her voice sounded like Nora. But not like Nora as he knew Spartan-098, like how he remembered Nora as Recruit-098. "Where are you?" Kurt asked. There wasn't any room for her to be hiding. Though he did find an empty chair by the presumed door he missed on his first sweep.
"That's... difficult to answer."
Kurt caught sight of his reflection in one of the screen banks to his right. He looked... weak. His head was completely shaven and there were nearly as many wires, leads, and other medical equipment attached to him as when he went through augmentation. The hospital garb fell on him in a way that spoke of atrophy without quite displaying it.
Kurt flexed his fingers and felt how much effort that involved. There was heaviness to the world, a weight to the air, he hadn't experienced since... Maybe he'd never experienced such physical weakness before. He certainly didn't like it.
Didn't like it?
"How long?" he asked as he searched for something to understand. Something that made sense.
"For you or me?" Nora asked.
"Either?" Kurt said, wondering if she were in an adjacent bay. She sounded like she was in the room. "Both? We were on Mamore, right?"
"Mamore, yes," Nora said. "You died a little, but you got better. They had to clone a segment of your heart, but it took a while. Your body rejected the first dozen attempts. Apparently Spartans only get one heart. How do you feel?"
How did he feel?
"You didn't answer how long," he said to cover the fact he was feeling things.
Like his sixth sense telling him there was something very wrong about how Nora was answering questions. She had never been avoidant a day in her life. The prickle telling him something was wrong, giving him a bad feeling, was nearly impossible to ignore.
"Six months for you. Six months, seven days, nine hours, and... I'll spar you the minutes and seconds. You didn't answer how do you feel?"
"I feel..." Kurt began and searched for a word, "different."
"Your heart was about six centimeters from bisection by plasma blade," Nora said. "They needed your hormones functioning unregulated."
"No suppression pellet," Kurt said, understanding her meaning.
"Nope."
That certainly explained why his feelings were churning in his gut again. "What about you? Did they have to take yours out?"
"Not exactly."
"Spartan," Kurt said, surprised he could make his voice that firm. It hurt his throat. "Sitrep."
There was a console to the left of him and a small holopad began to glow a crisp silver-purple, a form appearing. Nora. But not the way Kurt last saw her. Not Spartan-098. The way she'd looked in training, when she was eight or nine, complete with split lip and black eye.
"I don't seem to have a body to put a pellet in," she said. "I only figured out how to make myself appear on this thing a week ago."
"Tell me everything."
Nora shook her head. "I woke up thirty-six days, nine hour... Ugh. I can't stop this compulsion to state time down to the second. But I woke up in this room with you. I'm in some kind of closed system, so I don't know anything other than what these computers are monitoring. Do you want to know your heartrate? Blood pressure? The percentage uptake in brain activity while we've been talking? That I can do. Otherwise..."
"What about the people that come into the room," Kurt said, glancing at the chair.
"Medics won't talk to me, except to access relevant data on the patient, i.e. you." Nora lifted her hand in a fist and pounded it against an invisible wall. "It makes no sense for me to be in here. I'd never have made the list for one of Halsey's smart AI doners."
Kurt couldn't disagree with that. Nora had always been one of the Spartans more geared toward the physical. "Smart AIs are supposed to be copies of brain patterns, not copies of people," Kurt said, wracking his aching brain. "You... retained your memories. You are Nora."
"Please don't have a Ship of Theseus debate with me. It's all I've been doing."
The look Nora gave him was a desperate plea he make things better. An expression he'd only seen a few times in training, when she was on his team and things were going well, times he'd ignored his gut. Right now his gut said this was Nora, and while the why and how needed to be explored, that fact he did not need to question.
Nora's image fuzzed out of existence and reappeared a second later with her in a defensive position. Her image was maybe age twelve now. "We're about to have a guest."
"Danger?"
"Minimal. Unless you are bodily threatened, don't move. Those attachments are still doing a lot of the work."
"All right."
The wall panel slid open and a well-dressed man entered with a deceptively casual air. Kurt's sixth sense went into overdrive. Not quite a bad feeling, but a wary one as he assessed. Not a physical threat. Even with the unnerving sensation of weakness, Kurt could think of a dozen ways to incapacitate or kill the man. He wasn't wearing a weapon by the manner his clothes were hanging.
There was something Kurt's nagging feeling recognized in the stranger. Something he couldn't place.
"It's good to see you're finally awake, Spartan-051. My name is James Ackerson."
"What division of ONI are you with, sir?" Kurt asked. "Apologies for not saluting."
"That's hardly necessary," Ackerson said as he took a seat on the chair at the foot of Kurt's bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Ready to return to duty," Kurt answered.
"Of course," Ackerson said, nodding as he crossed one leg over the other. "However, a Spartan with a heart condition could be a liability on the field."
Kurt pressed his lips as Nora spoke at a sub-audible level only a Spartan would be able to hear. "I said you kept rejecting the cloned transplant. This one is taking, but they don't know how functional it will be, and so neither do I."
"What division of ONI are you with, sir?" Kurt asked again, having a feeling this Ackerson knew Nora had been talking to him.
"All you need to know for the moment is I work directly for Admiral Parangosky, and you are being reassigned... Ah, I'm sorry. What's your name?"
"Kurt-051, sir."
Ackerson clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Lieutenant 051 isn't going to roll off anyone's tongue."
"That's not a rank I hold, sir," Kurt said, needing to add. "And Spartans don't rely on rank within our units. We're all Spartans."
"That may have been true," Ackerson said as he reached for something in his pocket. "Before."
He pulled out Lieutenant insignia and a nameplate reading Ambrose, tossing them on Kurt's bed. Ackerson was being very careful not to get into easy reach. "Those are yours now. As I said, you've been reassigned. It's still work only a Spartan can do, but you'll be reporting to me."
"What work?" Kurt asked, staring at the metal bits but not reaching to touch them.
"The next generation," Ackerson said. "The key to humanity winning this war."
"Dr. Halsey was never able to find another candidate group," Nora said, her avatar flaring. "Not up to specification."
Kurt would have missed it if he hadn't been paying attention, but there was a twitch in Ackerson's jaw at Halsey's name. "Dr. Halsey is no longer in charge this facet of the Spartan Program."
"What about Spartan-098?" Kurt asked.
Ackerson cocked his head and looked at Nora's avatar for the first time, offering it a pitying smile. "You are a test. Something Dr. Halsey was working on. It was requested I run preliminary experiment on the method. I still haven't figured out if you qualify as a success or a failure. But you are neither a Spartan nor a true AI. You are... a ghost."
Kurt instinctively moved a hand between Ackerson and Nora's avatar, which was pointless. He didn't know where her matrix was stored or how it was stored to protect it. The comment was also a ploy to see what he would do.
Ackerson leaned back in his chair and smiled. "If you think this project would be of use to you in your new position, Lieutenant Ambrose, I'm sure something can be worked out. We can work out the particulars in our next meeting," he said, and then stood. "For now, focus on your recovery. I have some of the same medics who worked with Louis, Cassandra, and other washouts to help with your physical therapy."
"Sir," Kurt said as Ackerson departed. He waited until he was sure Ackerson was gone. "Did you notice anything about Ackerson?"
"Yeah." Nora was sitting with her legs crossed on the holopad, looking six years old. "Baby James looks like Julia, doesn't he?"
