Chapter Twenty-One: The Breath That Carried

Ace paced, feeling iron wrap itself around her ribcage. Inhale, one-two-three-four. Exhale, one-two-three-four. Stupid body and its fear of ONI. Stupid ONI for expirementing on children. Stupid aliens for opting for genocide.

The fuck was she supposed to do if they requisitioned her again? Ace couldn't reliably fight for Humanity and be on the run from it at the same time. Well. She could. Probably. Especially if she utilized her favors, where they were still cashable. But the tech? Things molded to her, able to withstand her abilities? With such exotic materials at hand? Then again, when Reach fell, the UNSC might not be able to supply her so well. Still specialized equipment in need of specialized care.

Ace didn't have as much ability with transformation as she did healing. She couldn't make her own equipment on the level she would need. It wouldn't be the end of the world for her to be requisitioned, but it'd be the end of her newfound resolve and potentially the end of her ability to remain with Noble Team. Her team.

Ace's team. All of whom were watching her have a small mental breakdown, however subversive Ace had managed to keep its symptoms. Emile and Jun were the most awkward about it, talking and eying her in turns. As if that helped matters. Jorge was at least focused on the brief Carter had handed him, and both SPARTANs spoke in quiet murmurs. They, at least, could manage to plan. Granted, they did pull her over for knowledge.

SWORD Base wasn't one she was exactly familiar with, nor was Kelly, but ONI was ONI unless they were SPARTAN, and of them... Well. Ace had the most experience with direct ONI orders and how they treated her, even if it took some specific wording to wrangle out what exactly they wanted to know. Carter and Kat both worded some things so oddly that it sometimes took Jorge to try and translate for her.

Once Ace had managed to wrangle most of her panic under some form of control, she did her best to scheme. She had managed to outmaneuver Ackerson, she could handle the lower-handed ONI agents that probably had expiremental tech that needed securing. Or some other form of resource. They wouldn't divert an entire squad of SPARTANs unless they thought it was vital, even if it was ONI. Many of its personnel operated on a ruthless calculus that had so far ensured Humanity's survival against the Covenant, and only some seemed to hate it as much as Ace did.

No matter how much the clone feared what they could do to her, Ace was more worried what they would do to Noble if they found out how much Noble knew. ONI hated anyone knowing their dirty secrets - even their own dirty secrets, or filthier skeletons. Stars forbid if Noble ever found out about the dead children left in ONI's wake, the clones or the dead in the augmentations of Class II.

Ace shivered at the thought. Her own early years in ONI were full of rage and spite. They had continually expected her to fail, to be subpar. When she didn't, they plotted uses for her.

The clone had planned on them finding uses for her. Yet, here she was, internally combatting her own emotions. Should she be grateful they were pulling her to a necessary location? Should she just let go of what she had been trying to form, if they requisitioned her alone?

"Ace." The clone looked up, brow furrowed behind her faceplate. Jorge had been the one to speak, of course. The others were still gathered nearby, albeit pointedly not looking at them, as if to give the two older SPARTANs a semblance of privacy. Jorge had his helmet off, the goose.

"We're technically in an active combat zone," was what she said, the words slipping out before she even realized they had been in her throat. Jorge gave her a wry smirk. He knew full well what she meant. That meant he had deemed this more important then combat protocol. Ace took off her own helmet, an action followed by the rest of Noble. Each was set away from them, the furthest corner from their bunkroom from where they clustered.

Once Noble had gathered, Jorge reached out a gauntleted hand to pull Ace's head towards his own, head butting her in a way that was far too familiar for Ace's minimal experience with it. He kept their foreheads together, hazel eyes shut, breathing slow and deep. Ace found herself matching him, steadiness creeping back into her limbs with his support. "We got this," Jorge rumbled emphatically, pulling back a micrometer to bonk their foreheads together a little rougher. "Don't psyche yourself out. Kat figured out why they pro'ly want us. What she took from the Relay, and tried to crack open. Not you, specifically."

Ace gave a dry chuckle. "I'm sure I would simply be an extra tool for them to want us," she answered, "But we can't let them know you know me enough to fight for me against them." Carter was already nodding by the time Ace had finished the sentence.

"That's one advantage we have," Carter offered, "But if the options are abandon you or -"

"Then you abandon me," Ace stated coldly, "I can get myself out. I can't get all of us out. Some of us need to remain on the outside." Emile gave her a mulish look, pale eyes flinty in his anger.

"Not that I like how you phrased that," Carter interrupted, ice blue eyes turning onto Emile, settling the CQC specialist enough to continue, "We aren't abandoning you. As you said, some of us need to remain out. Some of us. Shit goes sideways, you can expect an escort goin' into hell again. You won't be left alone."

Of everything that Ace had expected her squad leader to say, it hadn't been that. It hadn't been an acceptable compromise, in her opinion, either way. But could Ace stop them without being a hypocrite? They had the right to choose where they stood, where their duty would interfere with the personal or vice versa.

"I can't ask that of any of you," the witch-clone protested. She could keep herself alive. She could survive. Would any of Noble? She had her stupid healing to keep her alive. They couldn't, ONI would have no use for her teammates. They'd get sent to the front-lines, to certain death if they could.

Ace paused. If they could. 'If' was a pretty big word. ONI had a lot of power. But if Kelly spoke to some of their own in ONI... Noble could be kept safer. They had a limited timeframe with which to operate, but plans had to be drawn up.

"Of course. Thank you." They didn't need to know if Ace made arrangements for them. She couldn't for herself - too obvious, too risky, they needed their Ace in play - but for them? Jorge knew her well enough to give her a heated glare and a minute headshake, all but shouting his disapproval of whatever had made her acquiesce so easily. The rest of Noble had no such prior knowledge, despite knowing her to be dutiful, to be a lonewolf, and they trusted her. Trust which might very well be broken if she followed through on the plan, but Hastati still lived. As did John. As did so many Ace had helped in her years of service. She could handle a lot, but her people in the hands of her enemies was not one of them.

Wait a minute. Enemies. Ace half-listened to Carter's plan outlines as she considered that realization. Yes, SPARTANs had been combatting the effects of ONI's decisions. Yes, their interests didn't commonly fall in line. Did Ace hate ONI more then the Covenant? Disconcertingly, Ace realized she had far less trust in ONI's operations. The aliens had the excuse of religion or whatever. What excuse did ONI have for their treatment of people?

Taking her newly realized emotions, Ace buried them into her subconscious, to stew on as far from Kelly as she could. Governments, and factions there-in, where to be dealt with when there was an after to this genocide. ONI could sit and spin for all she cared. She had people to keep alive.

Whether they wanted it or not.