#halo lasky

[halopedia]

Lore Thursday — Circinius IV

The Outer Colony Circinius IV was home to the Corbulo Academy of Military Science, a UNSC officer training school. In 2526, the planet was attacked by the Covenant before the existence of the alien threat was made public.

[turtletoads]

diversity win! the captain of the infinity is gay

[courtana]

@giftober 2023 | day 15: grief + HALO 4 (2012)

– Chief, I won't pretend to know how you feel. I've lost people I care about, but… never anything like you're going through. – Our duty, as soldiers, is to protect humanity. Whatever the cost.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

roland and linda in cahoots on something

Thank you. Athos and Linda got along, I think Roland and Linda would get along like a housefire no one suspected.

-

"Roland."

"Something I can help you with, Spartan?"

Linda 058, the quietest member of Blue Team, is asking for his attention.

"How much nuance do you allow when it comes to personnel in potentially off-limit areas?" She asks while staring straight ahead, not bothering to look at the ceiling or a camera. Her voice is low and even.

He can't get a read on her in comparing her tone and body language to his wealth of readings from his crew. IIs were sarcastic, but also had a habit of malicious compliance and going right up to the point of rule breaking before stopping. It gave his captain and the admirals headaches but fascinated Roland all the more. Despite being a Ship AI and not having the experience of partnering with a Spartan, he found a kind of kinship in their creative problem-solving. What files were available to him painted a relatable picture. Linda had worked with an AI, receiving a glowing review, but Roland could read between the lines. Nuance, huh?

They were so interesting. Roland found himself struggling to balance his desire to see where this led and his ingrained purpose of maintaining order and function on the Infinity.

"That's an interesting question." He can't help the chuckle that follows. "Potentially, if someone was where they shouldn't be and I caught them, they'd get a warning to leave before I contact whoever's necessary to remove them."

"So you have to catch them."

Oh, this is fun.

"I see everything on this ship, Spartan. You may have the clearance, but I can't let you climb around the engine room."

A muscle twitches on her face. Roland counts that as a victory.

IIs were so much fun. 15 minutes after he's thrown down the gauntlet, Linda 058 disappears into a blind spot in a major hub of hallways. Roland notes it down for security and then leaves several threads around to ping when she reappears.

She does not reappear. He gets no ping. AI can't sweat, but the invigorating exercise of hunting for her sours when it's 4 hours later and the Captain is frowning at him.

"Roland, where's Linda?" Captain Lasky asks in front of three quarters of Blue Team.

"I may have chosen my words poorly." Roland says, his avatar slouching in defeat.

"Sir, she doesn't have her armor, so we can assume she's inside the ship." Kelly supplies.

Captain Lasky pales as he considers the thought. Roland hadn't considered that. "She would do that?" Lasky's voice is stricken. Roland feels a bit guilty as he watches his captain's blood pressure spike.

Fred is the only one who grimaces as they all nod once.

"You might have to admit defeat before she reappears." The Master Chief says to Roland. "Linda's competitive."

"What?" Roland gapes in shock. He doesn't want to give up so easily, surely there are ways to track the NI or IFF tag even if she's not in armor.

He stops himself from answering when his captain looks dolefully at him.

"Do I make a shipwide announcement and hope she hears it?"

He does.

180 painful seconds tick by and Linda 058 materializes out of a different blind spot halfway across the ship. Her ready gear has dust on the knees and elbows. The vents then? She walks into the meeting more relaxed than Roland's seen her.

Linda nods to the captain and Roland as she takes her place beside her team.

"Do I want to know where you've been, Spartan?" The captain sighs. His face and his biosigns are pointing towards no.

"Finding gaps in security, sir." Linda replies.

"Great." Lasky looks like he does not think it's great. Roland is just glad it's over. "You can help Roland with that when we don't have scheduled meetings."

Or not.

[vibe-spartan-nostalgia]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HALO 4!!

On this day, November 6 2012, Halo 4 released, forever changing the landscape of Halo

[authortobenamedlater]

@rainintheevening @threshergm @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask @thearbiterthel @stitchlingbelle You asked.

(This is rough and subject to change without notice)

—

“Don’t talk.”

Tom looked quizzically at the Master Chief’s visor.

“Don’t talk to each other about what you saw,” the Chief elaborated tersely, still aiming his rifle out the Pelican’s open bay. “You’ll need to get debriefed once we get to the ship.”

“What ship?” April asked.

“Yeah, where are we going?” Sully added.

“UNSC Mercy Seat. Medical frigate,” the Chief answered.

Tom glanced at Chyler. She was silent and unmoving against his shoulder. She hadn’t said a word since boarding the Pelican.

She’s not OK.

“Chyler.” Tom nudged her. “Look.”

Chyler blinked slowly. “At what?”

“The sunrise. Just look at it.”

Chyler stared out the open hatch. “Why?”

“Because someone should.” Tom took in the golden glow over the snowcapped mountains. “Someone should remember it. And we’re the only ones left who can.”

—

There is of course more to this story. I’ll see how long I want to make it.

[empresskadia]

You know, I'm kinda bummed the UNSC Infinity got messed up, I liked Thomas Lasky as captain.

I hope they give him and the Spartans the UNSC Eternity as a 'sorry your ship got tackled to Zeta halo, here's a new place :)'

Wonder where you're at Lasky, hope you didn't get eaten.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

"You can't escape my cuddles" with Tom and Chyler

I am so sorry for taking so long to finish this prompt, but I am finally finished with it! I hope you enjoy it :D

---

Tom bent down and rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He had been through a lot over the course of his life - Covenant invasions, the resurgance of ancient alien conquerors, even a robotic uprising like the science fiction stories of the turn of the millennium.

None of that had even begun to prepare him for this. He was flinching at every shadow, his heart hammering in his chest with every breath he took. He knew he was running out of time; he'd found somewhere to hide, to frantically try to finish his project, but he knew deep down that it wasn't going to be enough.

"I know you're in here... you can't hide from me."

The voice was chasing him... haunting him. It sent a chill down his spine in spite of himself. "I just need a little more time," he muttered under his breath as he tapped frantically on his pad. He had to keep working... he was so close, he just needed a little more -

His train of thought was derailed by the gentle swish of the door to his hiding place sliding open. He squinted as light spilled into the otherwise dark room, and his blood ran cold as a silhouette filled the doorway.

"There you are," the voice hissed, dark satisfaction dripping from every note. "You should have known better than to think you were going to get away from me."

Lasky held his hands up placatingly. "Wait," he pleaded, his breath catching nervously in his throat. "I just - "

Faster than he could track, the silhouette was upon him. The datapad was shoved out of his hands and suddenly he was pressed down against the couch cushions beneath him, and arms were wrapped around his neck almost tight enough to strangle him.

In spite of the rush of adrenaline coursing through him, Tom found himself laughing. "You were supposed to be asleep, Chy," he protested as his wife curled up against his chest.

Chyler lifted her head to scowl at him, though with her puffy sleep-riddled eyes and droopy lips it looks far more like a pout. "No," she argued, prodding him in the chest with her finger, "We were supposed to be asleep." She wrapped her arms back around him and rested her head on his chest.

Tom laughed again. "I needed to finish that report," he explained as he tried to reach again for his datapad. "Then I'll come back to - "

Chyler cut him off once more with a scowl, the expression appearing more serious this time. "No," she said firmly, grabbing his arm and pushing it against his side before pinning it there with her own arms. "You're staying right here, so you'd better get comfortable and put your arms around me."

Tom thought about protesting - about reminding her that he had work to do, and that he wasn't just her pillow - but he knew that it would have been a futile effort. He had never had much success in turning her down... for anything. "Alright," he finally conceded, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You win."

Chyler hummed contentedly. "Good answer," she breathed, nestling in tighter against him. "You should know by now that you can't escape my cuddles."

Tom rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but relish the weight of her body in his arms. "As if I could ever want to," he smirked, then pressed a kiss against the top of her head and settled in to sleep.

---

ALSO - as a bonus, here's a sneaky extra in my AU of your AU of your AU, in which Chyler survived Circinius IV and Cadmon was actually put on ice by ONI to hide his knowledge of the Covenant and upon his defrosting he was given and subsequently took the opportunity to become a Spartan-IV... and eventually fell for a certain best friend of one Captain Thomas Lasky. (That was such a massive mess for what this is actually turning out to be but I don't even care it's worth it.)

Prompt comes from this list.

"Infinity to Fireteam Marquis, report in."

Commander Sarah Palmer's voice was tight. Measured. Professional. Everything it was supposed to be. It was important to be on her game - especially considering the fact that she wasn't really supposed to be personally handling training missions. However, as the leader of the Infinity's Spartan contingent she had a habit of affording herself a few creature comforts.

'Marquis Lead to Infinity, go ahead,' came the answer.

It was ridiculous, but just the smug tone of voice was enough to make her stomach flutter. She scowled to mask the way the corners of her lips threatened to turn up in a traitorous smile. "Report mission status, Marquis Lead," she said tersely, trying to at least pretend to keep up the image of impartial leadership. "You're running low on the mission timer."

Even as she spoke, Palmer tried to ignore the fact that she really wasn't supposed to be having this conversation on a direct encoded transmission. She also tried to ignore the thought of how badly she wished she were down there so she could watch his back in person.

No matter how hard she tried to ignore those things, however, her stomach still fluttered again when he answered.

'Don't worry about us, Infinity,' he said, and she could hear the little smirk that he always wore whenever he teased her. 'We'll make sure to come back pretty and punctual for you, Ma'am.'

Sarah shook her head, a quiet smirk on her lips. "Take care of yourself out there, Marquis Lead. Infinity out." With that she tapped the icon to cut their link and, in what had turned out to be something of a mission ritual of hers, she reached out with her index finger and brushed it against the solitary picture that she kept tucked in a drawer on her desk.

It wasn't a great picture - slightly blurry, her hair was blowing across half her face, and she hardly even recognized herself... but it was still her favorite. Specifically because of the man in whose arms she was wrapped... Spartan Cadmon Lasky, younger older brother of her CO and arguably best friend, Captain Thomas Lasky. Their relationship was a secret to everyone except Roland, and for good reason - there were about a million different reasons for them not to get together; the fact that Cadmon had spent the better part of three decades on ice being but one of many.

Still... Cadmon Lasky had a way of making her break the rules. "I love you, you idiot," she whispered to the photo with a fond smile that even he rarely got to see.

That same smile disappeared in an instant when her comm lit back up with a new transmission. 'Sorry Infinity, last got garbled; can you repeat that?' Cadmon asked. She could only imagine that his customary smirk was somehow even more smug than before.

Sarah ran a hand over her tight ponytail, sighing deeply. "No, Marquis, I will not repeat that," she said stiffly even though she couldn't quite stop the corners of her lips from turning up into a small grin. "Go kill some Covvies and ask me in person.

'Strong copy, Infinity. Anything for you.'

Sarah rolled her eyes as she tapped the icon more firmly, making sure that she severed the transmission this time. She rested her head in her hands and groaned softly.

He was never going to let her live this one down.

[halo-smashorpass]

Captain Lasky

[raptor-one]

Halo let me on your merch team I have a very important idea-

[carnelianfoxx]

really stupid thing to say but like

halo 4. the scene where lasky is sent down to stop cortana and chief from leaving and has a pelican readied in case they already left, but instead gives them the pelican so they can go after the didact. remember that scene?

right at the end, he says "and chief, good luck." then he turns to cortana. "both of you."

he treated cortana like a person. this was right after her rampancy meltdown and del rio treated her like software that needed to be deleted, demanding chief hand her over to die.

lasky treated both chief and cortana as human beings... even though those two were going through a crisis of how human they really are.

[froglurker]

I am a maaaad sucker for this ship.

He saw her turn slightly after telling a few Spartans something. Wasn’t she supposed to go with them? She clambered over in her half ton MJOLNIR armor with a smile on her face.

“Since all that happened Lasky, I starting to worry about you.”

He smiles. “I hope you haven’t lost any sleep over me.”

“A little.” She grins and to his immediate surprise, tilt his chin up slightly with a gentle hand. He can feel his face warm from ear to ear almost instantly as he feels her thumb rub the stubble on his chin.

“Make sure nothing happens to him while I’m off gallivanting, Roland.”

A imperceptible voice rings from the console they stand by “Will do!”

He closes his eyes, blushing hard as he mutters softly “I can take care of myself…”

[mokuknight]

@albertaboys and I committing (lighthearted) hate crimes against Lasky.

I don't intentionally hurt friendly NPCs so I never in all my years with Halo thought this was possible until now.

(someone forgot their mic wasn't on for this hahahahahaaa)

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Making the Most of It

A follow-up to Blown Lightbulbs by bellygunnr featuring Lasky, Palmer, and Roland and the ever-present passage of time. Here's 3.4k words of AI Possession, brunch, banter, and salvaging your precious time together after a trip to your childhood home.

Also on ao3. This work is mature but not explicit.

The trip to Mars wasn't a total wash just because of the disastrous meeting at the Lasky Household. They still had a few things left on the itinerary that Sarah and Roland had put together without Tom's knowing. And Roland wanted to try those mimosas.

There's some movie droning on the wall sized TV in the background, screen dimmed along with the lights in the room, casting gentle shadows on cream colored walls. Half the pillows are arranged in a comfortable nest, propping them up while the other half are piled on the overstuffed recliner in the other room. They're too high up for street noise, but every so often the passing engine sounds of a ship taking off rumbles through the thick walls of their hotel room.

It’s a little ridiculous, a huge room high above the sprawling landscape of a bustling downtown, views of the shipyard and further out the edge of the terraformed greenery giving way to natural Martian red-brown. A penthouse suite complete with minibar and a bathroom bigger than his quarters on the ship. Beyond excess, but he knows they picked it out for him. Just like they both came along, and comforted him when the house and everything related to it was so damn cold.

The sheets are soft and clean, and the comforter light yet warm, like a cloud surrounding them in their small bubble. Pressed against each other, skin on skin, her mouth moving from his ear to the back of his neck, trailing kisses as they entwine and exist.

He's two people right now and also just one, experiencing the feeling of being held, of warmth and love made physical as she crawls closer and pulls him back against her, their surroundings and worries forgotten as she pets his head, his hair, fingers scratching lightly as her other hand soothes and squeezes his arm, his stomach, his chest. Their legs tangle, his cold feet making her hiss before sighing as they settle down again.

There’s no Mars, no shipyard, no botched family reunion or ghosts of his past haunting them. Just the sounds of her heart beating slow and steady and the dual warmth of being pressed against her and the feeling of his passenger heating the CNI with his presence.

Dozing for a short time, they awaken as the movie ends and another one starts. The reminder that the time they have together is passing makes them oddly emotional, a swelling melancholy that stoppers their throat and leaks out their eyes. They sniffle quietly, blinking away fat, hot tears that slide down to pool on the arm holding them close.

Quiet concern murmured into the spot where two become one makes them fidget and turn, burying their face into her neck and squeezing her tight. She reacts with a forceful hug, one hand coming up to wipe their tears. Rolling over to her back,  she allows them to sprawl across her while they sigh and wheeze as the roiling emotions of two beings settle again. Warmth and a steady rhythm of her breathing soothes them slowly. She waits until their stuttering breathing evens out and kisses their forehead and then both their hands.

There's no hiding here. No need to. No ranks or titles. A brief respite against the rising tide and ticking clock. They may starve for touch outside the four walls of this borrowed room, but here and now is an oasis of privacy. Embracing away from prying eyes, a chance of catching their breath without some threat hanging over their heads, not choking on the signs of their stations collaring them. No need for armor. 

Her hands squeeze and let go of theirs before tracing feather light touches down their back and up their sides, teasing spirals and swirls into twitching skin as they struggle to stay still. Retaliation comes too late even as they try for the spots on her side that make her laugh; she flips them and drags the cover over their head.

Cocooned in the glowing warmth of the backlit blanket, they are pinned by her weight and by her mouth on them. Kisses and raspberries attacking any available skin, their wrists in her hands, their legs pinned by her sitting atop them. They laugh and struggle against her, bucking their hips against the onslaught before she pauses. Her smile beaming down on their flustered face, her hair messy and ringing her sleep-lined face.

"Vacation's not over yet. You can't get weepy on me after one nap, boys." Her voice rasps out of her throat, still thick with sleep. She releases their wrists and drops her arms beside their head, holding the majority of her weight off them as she boxes them in. Her chest presses against theirs, hearts pounding together and she looks them in the eyes and smiles with teeth glinting in the low light.

"We still have plenty of time, and I have a few things in mind." She whispers, grinding her hips down on them as she mouths at their neck, grazing her teeth along the junction between throat and shoulder. She doesn't wait for a response as she moves lower and laves at a nipple. Words seem out of their reach so they make some kind of noise, halfway between a question and an affirmative. She moves to their other side, repeating her actions with teeth and tongue, making them gasp, before she purrs in their ear. "You two should tell me what you want to do. We should make the most of this."

They remember their hands are free and take a moment to figure out where to put them. She notices their slight hesitation and lets them figure it out, only to be surprised when they grasp her face in their hands and pull her down for a kiss.

It's slow and sweet and lingering as they figure out who's driving. Waiting with a patience solely reserved for them, she lets them explore and hums her assent when they do something she likes. After a moment she kisses them back, gently leading this time, growing more forward and licking at their lips til they part; deepening the kiss til they draw back for air.

Their lips are wet and swollen and their eyes are blown wide, rings of gold still shining around dark pupils. Tom's face is flushed and wearing Roland's half cocked grin and she wants to eat them alive and hold them close and never let go all at once.

It must show on her face.

“Like what you see?” The words tumble breathlessly out of Tom’s mouth, but the confident little smirk doesn’t falter.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” 

Their next quip, either Tom’s or Roland's, is lost as Tom’s stomach growls in defiance. The sheepish grin is Roland’s while the embarrassed flush on his ears is all Tom.

“Room service?” She asks, inches from their face. A nod and she kisses them again before pulling back. “You’re buying, Lasky. This place is too rich for my blood.”

She rises, taking the comforter with her as Tom-and-Roland squawk at the rush of cold air. She laughs and throws it back at them as they grumble. 

Going to throw on one of the too-small complimentary robes that came with the room, she chucks a pillow at their surprised face while they bundle up in the regained comforter. 

Yes, Tom could afford to cover the cost. Captain's salary he never spent. The place was expensive, and she was the one that booked the room. Least he could do was pay for the food…and drinks.

They splurge. The numbers on the right side of the menu sit there politely in neat font while she fights her rising blood pressure. They want how much for a burger? She’s out of touch with the cost of tea in civilian populated areas- her own food and nutrition coming straight from the UNSC for so long now. Her main concern was sending money back to Luna for her dad and squirreling the rest away for some inevitable emergency. It’s fine, it’s a vacation, but she can’t imagine spending that much regularly. 

Tom can afford to splurge and being planetside means fresh food. Fresh food alone makes it worth the price. That and Roland's eager to try almost anything. He's practically chomping at the bit for new experiences.

The food arrives on a cart left at their door; the wheels sinking into the plush carpet under the weight it bears. It's covered in silver serving dishes complete with cloches, looking like it's straight out of an old movie. They aren't dressed like it's an old movie though, but it's their vacation. Food tastes better lounging in a robe or half wrapped in a duvet anyway.

Roland delights in revealing their brunch- brunch! Isn't that neat? A meal for people who don't start their day at 0500- and they dig in.

She can't keep the grin off her face as she watches them eat and talk between themselves in one body. Roland seemed to lose most of his usual issues about crumbs and mess in his mission to try as many foods as possible.

She ends up having to hide a laugh in a sip of coffee as Tom reins him in and redirects them away from the mimosas. 

She wonders how long that will last.

Tom's trying to tell Roland that his- their tastebuds didn't like hollandaise sauce, but he's bound and determined to try it all. Watching the usually more reserved duo decimate the plate of bacon and eggs was cute. She was endeared and trying not to be annoyed about it. Her chest felt full and she couldn't stop grinning. 

So the hardened Spartan Commander shoves half a bagel with lox in her mouth and starts fixing a third plate instead of dwelling on it. Hashbrowns and cholesterol will change the funny feeling in her chest. No carefully planned meals here.

The eggs benedict are tried, despite Tom's warning. It has their nose wrinkling in something close to defeat before she distracts them with another dish and finishes off the plate herself. She was never picky about food, couldn't afford to be, but now with free time and Lasky's paycheck, she could agree it was a little weird. Wouldn’t stop her from cleaning her plate.

They start digging into a grapefruit and making faces at the tartness. Fresh fruit was a treat aboard a starship, and most of Roland's secondhand exposure had been so processed or refined, it's no wonder the preconceptions he had were a bit off. She and Tom were having fun forgetting to warn Roland about certain sensations. Sarah was waiting til they switched who had Roland to introduce him to the wonders of capsaicin. 

Still, seeing Tom's face squinched up made her chuckle and lean over, cloth napkin wiping the juice dribbling from their chin.

She's in rare form, so she doesn't insult them. Maybe she's getting soft. Instead, she offers the fruit platter up as a better option. 

"Here. Try these, they're sweet." She holds up a grape, round and cool and much nicer than the ones she's had in the past. So much sweeter and real, no chemical aftertaste or electric purple dye clinging to her tongue. Leaning forward she takes their chin in her hand and feeds it to them, thumb brushing their lip as she waits for their judgment.

They chew and brighten, eyes darting towards the plate in front of her and her face as a blush forms. She leans closer, chin on her hand. "Well, did you like it?"

Tom-and-Roland swallow and nod, and grab a glass of water to wash away the lingering tartness. Their eyes flicker from plate to plate and back to her face. A hand sneaks forward and wraps around the delicate flute of mimosa and she rolls her eyes.

“I want to try it! You’re both making a big deal out of nothing.” Roland says, eyeing it with burning curiosity. 

Three glasses later, they’re giggling as Tom mentions there might be more champagne than orange juice in there. 

“I hadn’t noticed.” She says smoothly, stabbing a waffle off their plate and stealing it before they can respond. The pitcher is on her side of the table, out of their reach, next to her own empty glasses. “Drink some water.”

They smile broadly at her and dutifully sip some water. She can’t take her eyes off them, it’s how she knows they haven’t stopped smiling since they woke up. 

Roland reports he likes the mimosas more than scotch. He also reports he wants to order Irish coffee but she and Tom shoot that down.

“It’s not like we’re driving!” Roland pouts with Tom’s face, but the furrowed brow is all Tom.

Sarah swallows a half chewed bite of food and it goes down jagged and prickling. “I’m driving, you two can argue who gets to navigate.”

Their eyes light up and Tom’s mouth struggles to hold two different smiles.

It’s not a long drive, but traffic and checkpoints to get out of the city delay them long enough for Tom to relax again. She’s glad to see his posture relax and his eyes turn from her to their surroundings. Mare Erythraeum still sported wounds from recent battles. Dotting its landscape like bite marks were great gouges in the ground from ordnance and Jiralhanae ships.

It was more of the same. Signs of war everywhere they went. Signs of the UNSC and its progress were everywhere too. The choking miasma of fuel and engines from the shipyard stunk up their warthog’s cabin for the first few minutes of the drive.

Eventually gray gave way to green gave way to brown. Mars’ red brown soil had been carefully cultivated to support terraforming and human industry before nature had taken its own course back and flourished in an unproductive manner a few kliks out.

Past the old rundown towns that orbited big shipyards where the old hands used to live. It reminded her of Luna in a way. The atmosphere was nice, no fear of failure there, but the signs of age and neglect on old homes next to poorly maintained roads with bright new billboards showing off the latest ads and propaganda. Same everywhere she went. Sad and comforting in a way, as long as you stay useful, you stayed fed, and your home wouldn’t end up boarded up and abandoned.

Now she was overthinking things and being morose, what the hell?

Sarah eases the ‘hog out of the slower speed zone of the small town and back out onto the open highway towards their destination. Few others were on the road this way so she looks over at Tom-and-Roland with a smile, rolls down the windows, and guns the engine.

It takes off with a delayed roar and the wind greets them with its own roar in return.

Her passenger whoops as the warthog shudders and revs under her demanding hands. She wouldn’t push it too hard, not when they had the drive back to the hotel ahead of them. Sarah took care of her equipment and it took care of her - she just expected performance out of the damn thing for the price it cost. That’s what you get with a rental, she thinks with a sigh.

Tom’s hand rests on her thigh while he and Roland watch the road disappear under them. There’s a strange pause in their body language she can see out of the corner of her eye and then they’re sticking Tom’s head out the window.

She laughs, loud and clear at the moment. It’s a good day, beautiful even. They sit back in the seat after about a minute and Sarah smiles at the state of Tom’s hair. She ruffles it with her hand, pleased with the chilled feeling and their sunwarmed face and that she can touch them without looking over her shoulder.

They arrive at their destination with enough time before sunset. The Martian day was nearly identical to an Earth one, and she and Roland had researched their options when Tom had told them about his upcoming trip. Though it seemed Roland kept his thoughts quiet because Tom looks around in quiet awe as they clamber out of the warthog. Their boots crunch on the gravel parking lot and he takes in the trail signs and information boards. 

“The Olympus Highlands Nature Reserve?” He says in a quiet voice. “I’ve never been. Never really left New Harmony until…”

“I always knew you were a city boy.” Sarah says with a nudge. “And we don’t get enough time planet-side. Love the atrium, but I thought we might like something a little more real. Don’t worry, I’ll still go slow.” She smirks at him and swallows her own uncomfortableness at Tom’s emotional display. 

“Thank you, Sarah, Roland, I mean it. I-” His eyes shift and he swallows. Sarah allows him and Roland this brief mental scuffle while she unloads the packs.

“You won’t be so grateful after I make you hoof it up the trail. You’re pulling your weight here. The both of you.”

“Yes, Commander.” They say together. She turns on them, glowering at their wry smile and warm eye contact.

She scoffs and slaps the pack into Tom’s hands. “Maybe I’ll lose you on the trail, be free of this. Officer types never listen to me.”

“But then you’d be in charge.” They say, tilting Tom’s head to look at her with his stupid brown eyes wide and pleading.

She looks away from them playing dirty. “Damn, you’re right. I need you two around to do all the boring work. I guess you’ll survive the trip.”

“You always say the sweetest things.” They say as they put on the pack with a huff.

“Shut up and get walking. Roland needs to see how plants fix our monkey brains so he stops bothering the crew.”

“I ask a few questions and everyone gets so offended!” Roland whines, throwing Tom’s hands up before crossing his arms.

“Come on, I want to get moving.” She calls over her shoulder, three strides ahead of them and already ducking into the tree lined path.

They follow without complaint. The trees swallow the road noise and then they are left with only the soft orchestra of the park. Wind rustling the leaves as the sun dapples them with faint light, bird and bug calls echoing from all angles, and the sound of flowing water from somewhere down the path. There’s a low call from the valley where the Reserve houses its animals and information center. A strange baying noise that sounds like the braying of cattle crossed with an elk’s eerie keening voice. They stop and listen. The wind blows an answer that whips their hair and clothes around. Sarah and Tom inhale in unison and release the breath before turning back to their path.

Roland chuckles with Tom’s voice. “I think I get it.” 

Sarah takes their hand and they climb.

The path snakes up the incline, grasses and tree roots anchoring the loose red brown soil while they slowly turn the whole hillside green. Rocks rounded by water and time glisten on the creek bank while dark shapes dart just below the waterline. Dragonflies and other insects flit around in an unknowable dance while larger wildlife scurries into their holes and hiding places amongst the decaying logs and nest-heavy tree branches.

Sunlight dims as time marches on, but it has been time well spent. Tom-and-Roland still feel the ache at the reminder, but the sadness is no match for the warmth of Sarah’s hand in theirs.  

The path leads them to the treeline and beyond. A few more steps up the ridge has them standing on the precipice of one of Mars’ many craters-turned-valleys. They sway in the last of the sunlight as their star edges ever closer to the horizon, dyeing the skyline a cool blue.

Dust particles and Martian atmosphere, Roland thinks, but the scene is all too familiar to Tom. It hurts less than he thinks it would. Being on Mars, seeing the same sunset he watched disappear into darkness when he was left alone. Time passes, but it doesn’t have to hurt. At least, not all of it.

He-and-Roland inhale and exhale, a deep lung-filling breath that nearly escapes them without shuddering. The wind is chillier up this high, but Sarah’s there. Her hand is warm, and so is her arm as she draws them in close to watch the horizon.

They look up at her face and smile. 

It’s her first Martian sunset, they’d missed yesterday’s at the house. Her eyes are clear and her shoulders lower in the most relaxed body language they’ve seen all trip. She needed this too. 

“You know,” She swallows, uncharacteristically quiet. She mulls over her words even as she doesn’t take her eyes off the sky. “I could get used to this.” She says with a squeeze of her arm around them. The wind is chilly and night will be too, but it’s not so bad. He’s not alone.

“Me too.”

[doom-dreaming]

The More The Merrier: Ch. 1 - Revelation

“There’s a rumor going around that we’re a couple.”

The comment comes out of nowhere, but Kelly is used to the way her brother’s mind works, so she doesn’t ask for clarification. “Whoever started it obviously doesn't know anything about us. Besides, you’re not my type.”

“Didn't know you had one.”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “But not many people on this boat fit the bill.” She’s expecting the conversation to stop there. It doesn't.

“So, who does?”

Kelly levels a flat glare at him. “You'd give me shit about it if I told you.”

“Would not.”

Oh, John was in rare form. Honestly, secretly, Kelly's happy to see him like this. She holds out, knowing he’ll go for the bait. “I’m not saying anything.”

“Bet I can guess.”

“Knock yourself out.” Hook, line, sinker.

He pauses. Cocks his head. “...what about me isn’t your type?”

“Too quiet.”

“You want loud?”

“I want conversational.”

He looks mildly offended. “We have conversations. We’re having one now.”

“We’ve known each other for forty-five years.”

“...fine.” He moves on. “I don't see you going for anyone who's not a Spartan.”

“Conditional,” Kelly corrects. “But you're mostly right.”

He falls silent, studying her as if he’ll be able to see an answer written somewhere on her face.

“Don’t think too hard, you might hurt yourself,” she deadpans.

He huffs the closest thing to a laugh Kelly’s heard from him in a long time, but doesn’t speak again for several minutes.

Kelly returns to what she’d been doing, content to let him puzzle it out. It was good for him, he needed a trivial distraction. And while it was true there were a handful of people onboard the Infinity that Kelly could reasonably classify as “her type,” chances were slim that John would actually guess any of them, much less—

“...Palmer.” It isn’t a question.

Kelly’s head snaps up so fast her jaw pops.

John, irritatingly smug, sits back and crosses his arms. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“How the hell—”

“We’ve known each other for forty-five years,” he parrots, cutting her off. “You should ask if she and Lasky are looking for a third.”

Oh. Rare form indeed.

“Word around the ship is that Roland’s the third,” Kelly mutters. “Must’ve seen whatever you and Cortana had going on and thought it looked fun.”

John refuses to grace that with a reply. “...should ask if they’re looking for a fourth, then.”

Kelly snorts. “Lasky wouldn’t make it out alive. Not interested in him though.” A few seconds of silence pass. Unfortunately for Kelly, it’s more than enough time to start seriously considering making this bad idea a reality. “Maybe I should take her out for a drink. See what happens.”

“Worst she says is no,” John quips.

“Well, we already know she’s into older men. Maybe she’s into older women too. A girl can hope, yeah?”

“Hope for what?” Linda crosses between them as she enters the room.

“Kelly’s asking Palmer out for drinks.”

“Sounds fun. Am I invited?”

“...he means on a date, Lin.”

Linda fixes her sister with a stare that could bore through hull-plating. “I said what I said.”

“Wait, are you trying to poach my potential girlfriend?”

“No. I was thinking we'd share.”

[authortobenamedlater]

Have I mentioned that I’ve decided the Gladius captain and my Silververse Tom Lasky were friends? Because there’s not enough trauma in this fandom.

No real reason, probably never any fanfic significance even. Just came to me and will now live rent free in my head forever.