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Please make sure to read through if you like fanfic! And don't forget to follow me on twitter too! Your support means the world! Mikaelis belongs to @CrackedFullmoon ! Mel Crawford belongs to Dral_Marev !)

{-Personal log, LCpl Judas T. Morrison. Date Log Created: December 29th 2548}

Several days after we were captured and tortured I found myself on the hangar deck of a ship I didn't even know existed: a UNSC "Prowler". Apparently they were UNSC stealth ships that monitored all aspects of any given battle group but I wasn't the only one surprised to learn of its existence. Beside me were my former squadmates along with some new additions and we were all being given a more or less formal ceremony for our new assignment. This was all incredibly overwhelming for me and I wasn't even sure it was real. Beyond the hangar's pressurization shields we could see the outline of Reach below us as the sun rose on the far side of the planet-and the stars beyond as we faced the impromptu committee holding the ceremony for us. At the head was a singular white-uniformed officer from ONI HQ who was flanked by a few assistants and a few other officers to their right. Mikaelis was also in the formation of officials, waiting his turn to speak.

Together we were now forming a special operations "ferret team" to be used in whatever way ONI saw fit. We were now above the rank and file in spirit, our duties now more important than any other regular soldier. Our missions would be those too sensitive or dangerous for regular units to handle. We were going to be the elite of the elite. Operative Mikaelis: the brains and leader of our team. Amleth: Mikaelis' secret "smart AI" that none of us knew about until now. Farrah bint Ismail Al-Fulani: the close quarters specialist and team inspiration. Ganbataar Ivanjaav: the heavy weapons specialist and muscle. Mel Crawford: the marksman and comm specialist. Jinny Davis: expert pilot and requisition specialist. Myself, Judas Morrison, the rifleman and soon-to-be tech specialist. We are Winter-7, assigned to this Prowler, the UNSC Green Lion.

There is quite a lot I still have to take in and we've got heaps more training coming our way. It's all a huge clusterfuck to say the least and my head isn't the only thing that's hurting from thinking about all this. Zaya is being reassigned so who knows when or if we’ll ever see her again. She had given us personal contact info back on Reach but I doubt we’ll have luck getting in contact with a Spartan. I don’t even know what’s going to happen to me now either, let alone a super soldier like Zaya. Let me back up a bit now that all the official stuff is out of the way. It turns out that the last Op, the one where we were supposed to infiltrate a UEG building, was not just a mission but also a test. It must have been convenient timing for ONI but they seem to be masterminds at piecing things together. Mikaelis, as well as his superiors, wanted to vet Alpha-Six in terms of our skills and loyalty to the UNSC. Not only were they watching and evaluating us on the mission but the torture itself was part of their sick test. I… still have conflicted feelings about the whole thing.

I found out after the fact that each of us had been "tested" just like me, with all manner of different information extraction methods used on us. It also turns out that the guys who put us through the ringer were none other than the UNSC personnel who came to "rescue" us; it was all a façade. First Sergeant Phelps was the man in charge of the ONI security team who were stationed on the Green Lion. and training us, Winter-7. He apologized for having to put us through that misery but he did not apologize for doing his job. Says it makes us better soldiers, better operatives, but I know he means better tools for the UNSC. I want to be mad but when you really think about it that's what we always have been. Not much has changed in that regard I suppose.

At any rate, we're all still healing up and finalizing the official side of things. I don't even know if ONI actually does paperwork considering how much they like secrecy but our transfers are being processed, along with everything necessary to outfit this ship for departure from the orbital station. I'm getting settled in my private room which I do have to say is nice. I just don't know if all this will be worth the suffering I've went through-we've all went through. Honestly right now I just want some time to myself but deck officers keep bothering me and asking me to sign things and keep track of each of us on this new team. I know at some point I'll have to show up for the slew of training sessions Phelps has in store for us but...I don't know what to feel. Part of me is somehow excited to be taking a step up. What kid doesn't want to be a secret agent when they grow up? The reality is that kids have a magical perception where it's all flashy lights, heroic poses, and good feelings. They don't know all the horrible things those "secret agents" do. That part makes me feel depressed about this whole thing, trapped in a way. I never had a choice about joining some black ops team; it was all decided for me. Am I really that valuable of an asset or am I just one unlucky son of a bitch along for the ride? Ugh, I don't know. Maybe I just need to go for a walk. I would have said fresh air but we're all out of that docked at an orbital station.

There's nothing I can do about my fate now with all the black ink and red tape surrounding me. I suppose all I can do is go with the flow and try to find the positives in the situation. I'm certainly trying but… the bruises on my face and the aching in my ribs are making it a bit difficult. Hopefully once all the "official business" is taken care of things will settle down. Who knows? Maybe I'll like being a part of this ferret team. Maybe it'll work out better for me not being on the front lines. I don't want to sound selfish or indifferent towards the poor souls still slogging it out on the battlefield but...I'm beginning to think I want to feel that I've earned my place in all this mess. That it's not all just random chance and bad luck. Hm. That's really all I've got for now so I suppose I'll leave off here until something worth noting happens. Whoever you are reading this...thanks for putting up with me.

Description

Please make sure to read through if you like fanfic! And don't forget to follow me on twitter too! Your support means the world! Mikaelis belongs to @CrackedFullmoon ! Mel Crawford belongs to Dral_Marev !)

{-Personal log, LCpl Judas T. Morrison. Date Log Created: December 29th 2548}

Several days after we were captured and tortured I found myself on the hangar deck of a ship I didn't even know existed: a UNSC "Prowler". Apparently they were UNSC stealth ships that monitored all aspects of any given battle group but I wasn't the only one surprised to learn of its existence. Beside me were my former squadmates along with some new additions and we were all being given a more or less formal ceremony for our new assignment. This was all incredibly overwhelming for me and I wasn't even sure it was real. Beyond the hangar's pressurization shields we could see the outline of Reach below us as the sun rose on the far side of the planet-and the stars beyond as we faced the impromptu committee holding the ceremony for us. At the head was a singular white-uniformed officer from ONI HQ who was flanked by a few assistants and a few other officers to their right. Mikaelis was also in the formation of officials, waiting his turn to speak.

Together we were now forming a special operations "ferret team" to be used in whatever way ONI saw fit. We were now above the rank and file in spirit, our duties now more important than any other regular soldier. Our missions would be those too sensitive or dangerous for regular units to handle. We were going to be the elite of the elite. Operative Mikaelis: the brains and leader of our team. Amleth: Mikaelis' secret "smart AI" that none of us knew about until now. Farrah bint Ismail Al-Fulani: the close quarters specialist and team inspiration. Ganbataar Ivanjaav: the heavy weapons specialist and muscle. Mel Crawford: the marksman and comm specialist. Jinny Davis: expert pilot and requisition specialist. Myself, Judas Morrison, the rifleman and soon-to-be tech specialist. We are Winter-7, assigned to this Prowler, the UNSC Green Lion.

There is quite a lot I still have to take in and we've got heaps more training coming our way. It's all a huge clusterfuck to say the least and my head isn't the only thing that's hurting from thinking about all this. Zaya is being reassigned so who knows when or if we’ll ever see her again. She had given us personal contact info back on Reach but I doubt we’ll have luck getting in contact with a Spartan. I don’t even know what’s going to happen to me now either, let alone a super soldier like Zaya. Let me back up a bit now that all the official stuff is out of the way. It turns out that the last Op, the one where we were supposed to infiltrate a UEG building, was not just a mission but also a test. It must have been convenient timing for ONI but they seem to be masterminds at piecing things together. Mikaelis, as well as his superiors, wanted to vet Alpha-Six in terms of our skills and loyalty to the UNSC. Not only were they watching and evaluating us on the mission but the torture itself was part of their sick test. I… still have conflicted feelings about the whole thing.

I found out after the fact that each of us had been "tested" just like me, with all manner of different information extraction methods used on us. It also turns out that the guys who put us through the ringer were none other than the UNSC personnel who came to "rescue" us; it was all a façade. First Sergeant Phelps was the man in charge of the ONI security team who were stationed on the Green Lion. and training us, Winter-7. He apologized for having to put us through that misery but he did not apologize for doing his job. Says it makes us better soldiers, better operatives, but I know he means better tools for the UNSC. I want to be mad but when you really think about it that's what we always have been. Not much has changed in that regard I suppose.

At any rate, we're all still healing up and finalizing the official side of things. I don't even know if ONI actually does paperwork considering how much they like secrecy but our transfers are being processed, along with everything necessary to outfit this ship for departure from the orbital station. I'm getting settled in my private room which I do have to say is nice. I just don't know if all this will be worth the suffering I've went through-we've all went through. Honestly right now I just want some time to myself but deck officers keep bothering me and asking me to sign things and keep track of each of us on this new team. I know at some point I'll have to show up for the slew of training sessions Phelps has in store for us but...I don't know what to feel. Part of me is somehow excited to be taking a step up. What kid doesn't want to be a secret agent when they grow up? The reality is that kids have a magical perception where it's all flashy lights, heroic poses, and good feelings. They don't know all the horrible things those "secret agents" do. That part makes me feel depressed about this whole thing, trapped in a way. I never had a choice about joining some black ops team; it was all decided for me. Am I really that valuable of an asset or am I just one unlucky son of a bitch along for the ride? Ugh, I don't know. Maybe I just need to go for a walk. I would have said fresh air but we're all out of that docked at an orbital station.

There's nothing I can do about my fate now with all the black ink and red tape surrounding me. I suppose all I can do is go with the flow and try to find the positives in the situation. I'm certainly trying but… the bruises on my face and the aching in my ribs are making it a bit difficult. Hopefully once all the "official business" is taken care of things will settle down. Who knows? Maybe I'll like being a part of this ferret team. Maybe it'll work out better for me not being on the front lines. I don't want to sound selfish or indifferent towards the poor souls still slogging it out on the battlefield but...I'm beginning to think I want to feel that I've earned my place in all this mess. That it's not all just random chance and bad luck. Hm. That's really all I've got for now so I suppose I'll leave off here until something worth noting happens. Whoever you are reading this...thanks for putting up with me.