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[banshee_rider]

[She'd been trying to ignore something since the whole fiasco went down, but the castle had gradually strengthened the intensity of her urges until she's flipping open the journal now and clearing her throat.]

This is Spartan-087.

[She sounds a little confused. Mainly, why is she so compelled to leave a message like this?]

I bruised my hand.

[It'd been when she'd punched the vent in, looking for the bomb, but really it's almost healed up now; it's such a niggling injury compared to what she's had before.]

I'm -- not sure why I told you.

[Hello, Kelly, welcome to your loss. After an awkward pause,]

087, out.

Comments

[bezazzled]

I hope your hand feels better soon!

[banshee_rider]

It's not too bad, actually, I just ... had to tell someone.

[She's so confused by this whole thing. ]

[bezazzled]

[Mabel has learned it's best not to dwell on the confusing things.]

That's okay. I can be that someone. So how'd you bruise it?

[banshee_rider]

I punched an air vent on the Lewis & Clark in order to get a bomb.

[Just a normal thing for a Spartan.]

[bezazzled]

Whoa, really? That sounds so brave and heroic! And all you got was a bruise?

[banshee_rider]

It really wasn't much of a vent. [Not to her, at least.]

[bezazzled]

Maybe to you, but I bet you anything if I tried to punch a vent, my hand would be in a cast right now.

[banshee_rider]

You could say I'm prepared for this kind of thing. [She is now doubly glad she was there to punch vents. If only Adam had let her do that in the first place ...]

[bezazzled]

They train for stuff like that? Is there a class dedicated to the punching of tough surfaces?

[banshee_rider]

That's classified. [Sort of a knee-jerk reaction, but then again she wasn't about to go into the specifics of her training regimen.]

[bezazzled]

I get it. Very hush hush. That's fine. It's kind of like asking a magician his secrets: you just don't.

[banshee_rider]

Glad you understand. [Although Kelly's not really familiar with the whole Magician stigma.]

[bezazzled]

But still, wow! You've gotta have some pretty awesome strength to pull that off. I, for one, am thoroughly impressed.

[banshee_rider]

Uh, thanks. It's just what I do.

[You'll have to excuse Kelly, she's not used to conversing with civilians and she isn't sure what to do.]

[bezazzled]

Look at you, trying to be all modest about it. It's okay to brag a little! What can you bench?

[banshee_rider]

That's classified.

[Everything, down to her vital statistics, was kept under tight wraps, even after the Spartan program was made public in order to boost morale. Just because she's in a slip space bubble isn't enough grounds for her - yet - to go divulging her project's secrets.]

[But should you ever find her at the gym you'd probably be even more surprised, Mabel.]

[bezazzled]

Oh. [That's a bummer, but she tries to be understanding.] Is there anything that isn't classified?

[banshee_rider]

My name is Kelly-087. I'm a Spartan for the United Nations Space Command, operating under orders from the Office of Naval Intelligence, SPECWAR Section 3.

[Yup. Even her surname is under so much classification, red tape, and blacked out censors that she doesn't even know it.]

[bezazzled]

Mind if I just call you Kelly? Adding numbers kind of makes it sound really formal, but I will if it's some kind of Space Navy rule.

[banshee_rider]

It's ... more just what I prefer. That, or Spartan.

[She's used to only a small, close circle of people actually calling her Kelly. Possible to get into, though, like a really elite club.]

[bezazzled]

[This lady's a bit serious. But! Mabel won't be rude.]

Okay. I guess I can live with that. Unless I come up with a nickname and you're cool with it.

[banshee_rider]

[It comes from three decades of warfare and a childhood of rigorous training. Believe it or not she's one of the less serious Spartans.]

Fair enough.