Cath

The Cradle

A wave of giddy excitement washed over Freyr as they approached a club called the Platinum Orbit. The Outremer Security Council delegate had elected not to come on this little escapade. However 595 had clearly been making some calls, because Masgard met them outside. He had dark bags under his eyes and was still dressed in his regular work suit, but Freyr thought he still looked very presentable indeed.

Masgard blew out one more massive cloud of vapour through his nose before putting his stim-pen back into a jacket pocket. “Good evening, ladies…” He exchanged a kiss on each cheek with Freyr and 595. “...and gentlemen.” He bowed to, and then shook the hand of Ambassador Verengoning, before also shaking Vreta’s hand. “Thank you for the invitation.” Masgard said, looking between Kalax and 595. The Ambassador waved his hands in the air. “Think nothing of it! One can never have too many pulchritudinous lawyers hanging around. Come on everyone!”

Despite her tipsiness, Freyr felt slightly self-conscious in the little black dress 595 and Kalax had persuaded her to wear, as they strolled past an impressive queue of people at the entrance. They went straight to the bouncers at the front, who waved them through after the Ambassador waved some kind of diplomatic passport at them.

They entered into a bustling lobby area that split off in three different directions. Kalax led them down a long, dimly lit corridor to a grand set of double doors. The doors opened as the group approached, and a wall of noise hit them in the face as they entered a raised platform looking out over a cavernous club room. Freyr’s mouth dropped open and her eyes got lost in the panoply of holograms that danced across the walls and dancefloor. A strong hand grabbed hers and stopped her crashing into a robotic attendant offering them drinks from a tray.

Freyr grabbed one and took a sip, tasting grapefruit before 595 pulled her along. “Kalax is taking us to meet his friend, and then we must dance!” The agent shouted over the music, looking at each of the group in turn as they followed Kalax down a gently curving ramp. 595 nudged Vreta with her elbow. “What do you say, big guy? I bet you know some killer moves.” She winked. Freyr smiled, watching Vreta’s expression. She hoped they hadn’t just roped him into something he was wholly uncomfortable with. “We can just sit first, if you like, Vreta!” Freyr shouted.

The Cradle

Freyr laughed along with Vreta. As she’d learned since the incident, the judicial application of alcohol was helping her temporarily escape her overheating mind and the gravity of her responsibilities. Freyr knew in the back of her mind that it made things worse a bit later down the line, but once again she tried to suppress that acknowledgement in favour of enjoying the moment. “Don’t talk yourself down like that. You’re already a hero in my eyes; you did save my life, remember?” Freyr grinned, cradling her face between the backs of both her hands.

“So one glass of extra strong wine is all it takes to turn your frown upside down - good to know! Kalax and I might go to a club after this; he can get us VIP perks. Would you and your new boyfriend like to come?” 595 sent from the next table. Freyr shook her head, smiling at the agent’s persistent teasing. At any rate, she hadn’t been to a club in, well, over a decade. With her buzz on, it all sounded rather exciting. “So...we’ve just been invited to a club after dinner. How do you feel about that? I must admit i’m curious to see how Threrians enjoy themselves after dark.” Freyr asked Vreta.

The Cradle

Freyr thought about it for a while. “I think we’d definitely take a holiday.” She laughed. The stress was palpable nowadays, with no sign of abating. “I want to bring them to a beach.” Freyr smiled, drinking her wine. “But forgive me if i don’t share all of your optimism. The issue is uniquely complex and oceanic in depth. I’m uncertain there will be a quick fix that gives me a proper ‘out’. Besides, i don’t think the government really peddles in rewards. We get paid high salaries to stick at it for fifty years, by which time we have enough saved to live the remaining fifty in luxury.”

”Spoken like a true bureaucrat, good job.” 595 giggled in private comms. The strong wine must've been working its magic, because Freyr chuckled too. “What about you? Are you on track for a medal if this goes well?” She asked, leaning forward slightly.

Halo: Aegis Team

Tar 'Mdalak

---

Tar fell dutifully into her new unit and moved down the left passage. She was with the slim grey Spartan who’d turned out to be team leader, the Sangheili Major, another rather serious but silent Spartan and two ONI-types. Tar soon migrated to the front of the group and holstered her pistol in favour of her Mauler. The corridors were tight, and they were approaching an entryway, so she had to be ready for close quarters.

The set of doors in front of them slid silently open on approach. Tar heard raised voices as they entered through into a wide open chamber stacked high with boxes; it looked like a few of the closer ones had been knocked over to open up lines of sight. After a couple of seconds gunfire began peppering their position from a nest of fortifications in the middle of the room. Tar tucked in behind a pillar and began scanning the avenues of attack on either side, including the ceiling above.

“Watch the platforms above; there could be snipers!” Tar called over the gunfire, pointing straight up with one finger. She swapped her Mauler back over for her pistol, and leaned out to her right. She could see a couple of shapes behind a metal barricade; she shot three times at them. “Moving!” She announced calmly over comms, coming out from behind cover and shooting two more times before crouching behind the first in a long row of crates.

The Cradle

“I see.” Freyr nodded thoughtfully. She pasted a bit of steak with one of the delectable sauces decorating her plate and popped it in her mouth. The meats were genuinely delicious, though slightly thick-cut for her taste. She washed the bite down with a sip of the full-bodied wine that’d been paired with the meal.

“Hmm, good question. I don’t know.” Freyr was genuinely stumped. For over ten years, her entire life had been dedicated to understanding the mysteries of the Cradle. She’d never really considered any world without it in. “I’m not sure ‘it’ will be over in my lifetime. There’s still so much we don’t know about the Cradle. Not least, why it’s been...snatching people and acting so aggressively of late.”

Freyr took another bite of steak, combined with some of the small side salad. “I won’t lie to you. Part of me is screaming: ‘Find them and get as far away as possible!’. But my department, the government, they need me. Without our research, who knows what will happen inside the Cradle; the situation is so unstable it's anyone's call right now. As for Outremer at large, well...a loss of control could be catastrophic. I won’t let that happen.” Freyr’s jaw set defiantly.

“Hopefully, there is something on Rothia that we can use.” She mused, after a couple of seconds, chewing on another piece of steak. Talking and laughter wafted over from the other table on the balcony. "We just need to get at it."

The Cradle

“Aww. That is adorable!” Freyr gushed, pleasantly surprised by the sensitivity of this tall, imposing, toothy lizard being. “David was thoughtful and romantic like that as well, in his own way. This year, I was ready to work through my thirty-fourth birthday. A new site was opening up and the Cradle kept rolling back the terraforming efforts there...Anyway, David applied months in advance for special dispensation so he could come and visit me with Amy. They brought this delicious cake…”

Freyr coughed lightly to clear her throat; she noticed the waiter returning with their food. “That's when those things first appeared. We were so close to the border - up until then it’d been perfectly safe. I didn’t actually see much because I got knocked out from behind. I can remember hearing everyone screaming, and large shapes...though.” The waiter arrived, put a dizzying array of steaks in front of both of them and began decanting from a bottle of what Freyr assumed was wine. “Gosh. I think I've got enough for breakfast and lunch tomorrow as well here!” Freyr laughed, picking up her eating utensils.

“So, do you have any kids? I seem to remember Rothian civilisation has population controls in place, that right?”

The Cradle

The waiter arrived and Vreta ordered. “I’ll have the same.” Freyr confirmed, smiling at the waiter before he turned away to relay their order to the kitchen. She’d been well drilled in dinner etiquette by her parents and tutor in their absence, she even heard the mantras in her head:

It is best to play it safe when someone else is paying for the food and drinks, especially if you didn’t know them well. Ordering the same food as, or something less expensive than your host is a sign of respect across many cultures.

Freyr began tracing the contours on the outside of her crystal tumbler when Vreta asked about her husband. She knew that if she closed her eyes and focused, she’d be able to see him and her daughter on the back of her eyelids in an instant. But that’d make her cry properly, so she didn’t.

“David is...well he’s hopeless really. Even he’d admit that.” Freyr chuckled. “He wouldn’t say boo to a goose. Amy had him wrapped around her little finger. One time I caught them going for late night ice cream because she said she couldn’t sleep without it.” Freyr looked up at Vreta, smiling. “He’s the kindest man i’ve ever met, and that’s why i married him. In my role, you need an anchor or you’ll fly away…”

Freyr fell silent and still, staring into the distance before reanimating after a few seconds. “What about you? It sounds like you’ve had some adventures - what were your partners like?”

The Cradle

Freyr couldn’t quite believe it. A sparkling avenue of hope that’d been closed from the day she’d seen her family in the Morgue, and was told of the situation, was opening up again. She felt tears welling up again, happier this time, and patted at her eyes with one of Kalax’ tissues. “I, um, I don’t know what to say!” Freyr exclaimed, laughing softly through her tears. “Thank you, for wanting to try at least. That means a lot to me. However, I don't have the authority to set those trials up. I’m not even sure who would. Perhaps we could ask Kalax to put out some feelers?”

At that point, the loud POP of a cork made Freyr look round. It seemed the Outremer Security Council delegate had been invited to join Kalax and 595’s table, having just exited onto the balcony via another door. A waiter stood by their table with an ice bucket and a recently opened bottle of champagne, pouring it into three delicate crystal glasses. Kalax and 595 howled with laughter at some joke before standing up to greet the delegate. Freyr looked back and smiled at Vreta, feeling her face with her hands to make sure all her tears were gone. “Shall we order?”

The Cradle

Freyr choked on her drink, spluttering and patting her chest for a few seconds until she could breathe again. That was the last place she suspected this talk would go. “But...why? No Rothians have ever died in the Cradle before, you’d have nothing to gain. Not to mention the fact that it’d be incredibly expensive and potentially futile research. We’ve tried every possible solution and had no luck at all.” Freyr felt her temperature rising. Just talking about this topic brought her back to seeing her family laying in the Cradle-Morgue, technically alive but completely unresponsive. Freyr quickly dabbed her eyes with a napkin just as two eye-catching individuals entered her field of view.

Kalax and Agent 595 had obviously had time for a quick change, because they both wore long, strapless black dresses of an exquisite material. 595 sported a delicate gold pendent that plunged into her cleavage and a very stylish clutch bag while Kalax wore a shiny black dinner jacket and a small, round, red hat on his head. They exited onto the same balcony as them and crossed behind Vreta before making their way past the table. 595 noticed Freyr looked distressed and quickly knelt beside her. “What’s happened, are you okay?” She shot a venomous look at Vreta. "Would you like a tissue?" Kalax asked, handing Freyr a pack. “Thank you. Yeah, i’m fine, just please go. I need a minute.” Freyr responded, continuing to dab her eyes. “See what you’ve done?!” 595 theatrically rounded on Vreta, wielding her clutch bag. “Five-Nine-Five, please fuck off! It’s me, not him.” Freyr demanded shakily.

595 seemed unconvinced, but gave Vreta the ‘i’m watching you’ look. “We’re right over there, let me know if you need me.” She signed off, linking arms with Kalax to head to their table, some thirty feet away. "I'm sorry..." Freyr sniffed, finally regaining some composure. "I just really wasn't expecting to talk about this right now."

The Cradle

Freyr confirmed she was no longer needed for the day with Captain Andersen, which was customary as a passenger on an Outreman warship. She quickly made her way around the remaining delegates, saying thank you for the meeting and goodbye for now. “Did you want to stop by my place and get changed, Dr Lang?” Ambassador Verengonig asked as she walked toward the exit.

“No thank you. That was really unprofessional by the way, butting into my conversation like that.” Freyr directed her venom primarily at agent 595, who she was sure masterminded the whole thing. “Says the woman consorting with spies at every turn!” 595 snorted. “I am just trying to save you from a precipitous fall from grace down the line, sweetie.” Freyr huffed in despair and stormed off.

She was in a foul mood when she rejoined Vreta in the flyer to the restaurant. She had secretly wanted to indulge the Ambassador and dress up, but was fed up to the back teeth of being condescended by this mysterious guardian angel she’d picked up along the way. Freyr hadn’t forgotten 595’s words about Vreta, but the agent's polarising behaviour had inclined her to risk it, if purely for the pleasure of disobeying.

“Wow.” Freyr gasped upon seeing the view from the balcony on one side of the restaurant where they were seated. She temporarily forgot her annoyance as she took in the landscape behind the capital’s dominant mountainscape “You certainly aren’t short on views in Threria.” They sat down and a Tindrel waiter clacked over on all fours to pour them a starting drink from a jug. “Is this an every day affair for you?” Freyr asked, taking a sip.