About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact

Rebirth - Shadow's Prologue - Part 1
Date: 30 December 2002, 3:25 am

NOTE: You will need to have read Rise To Honor by Shadow, or at least the last few chapters of his series in order to understand this prologue. If you haven't, or don't plan to, you will NOT understand most of the important elements of this story.

2568 A.D./ 27 A.C.W: 0130 Hours: Earth, American Continent, Rushton Peninsula, 2 Miles Off Human Retreat Center Of The Final War

Shadow could barely open his eyes; the lack of energy was overwhelming. He couldn't feel his legs either, although those were shattered, no surprise there.
He couldn't feel his left arm. That had been blown to kingdom come and back by Covenant snipers. He could still smell the combination of rotting and burnt flesh in his nostrils, though. It was an acrimonious tingle, truly disgusting.
He watched the explosion undulate- closer and closer. He gave up in his attempt to see the full extent of it, and fell into a meditation. Everything collapsed into a white fog.


2558 A.D./19 A.C.W: 0430 Hours: Earth, European Continent, Atika Mountains, Secret Military Training Camp, Spartan III Project

Takan awoke to some unnecessarily loud screaming, coming from someone in front of his small little bed. The sound seemed all too distant to him, as if someone was trying to yell at him from the top of a hill. Despite it's distant feel, his senses were aroused immediately. He sat up in a sluggish motion, and snapped his eyes open to see the young face of his commanding officer, Mendez. Rumor had it that he was once the commander of the fearless Spartan IIs. He personally thought that someone who worked him so gently couldn't have produced the splendor of the Spartans. The commander seemed to be yelling at him about something, but he didn't care to listen.

"Number 97, wake up! You maggot! You're the most undisciplined cockroach I've ever seen! Wake up! It's time for your first physical session of the day!" Mendez screamed.

He shook his head, trying to get a grip on the day. As soon as he finished, he felt the extreme pain and the zing of something burning into his skin. By reaction, he grabbed whatever was stinging him, he didn't have full vision to see what it was, and couldn't very well throw it off into the corner. With lightening speed, he ducked under the attacker, and grabbed it by the throat. All with his eyes closed. He used only sound and feeling to help him carry the offensive to whomever this was. Training had helped him a bit to acquire these special abilities, but he mostly spent his 'sleeping' time practicing his martial arts skills. The arts that he had learned while he was just a young child.

As he opened his eyes, he quickly let go of the perpetrator, realizing it was just a sergeant trying to prod him with an electric device that was used all the time to make the cadets wake up for their... 'Work'. He turned to Mendez.

"I'm sorry sir. It's an instinctive thing." he explained.
"I'm glad that you have honed in on your skills, but should always be aware of what you're doing before you do it. Now get down the fitness room and begin your daily training." The commander replied coolly.
"Yes sir."

He allowed himself a quick glance toward the sergeant, (who was currently gasping for air) and opened his door, walking out into the hall.
He was wearing a pair of camouflage shorts that came down to his knees.
He preferred to pull them down a little and let them go past his knees. Shirtless, it showed his boxers that were supposed to be concealed underneath, but he liked how he wore it. The Commander told him that the way he liked to wear his shorts was an old style back hundreds of years ago. It pained him to know that he wasn't the first to create the style, since he was always first in everything. He never took second as an answer.
Adjusting his shorts to his taste, he began a quick jog down the hard, cold floor towards the fitness room. As he entered, he noticed that there was an open spot right between numbers 98 and 96. That was where he was supposed to be. Other than him, everyone was already assembled in a line. He quickly jumped into his spot, and stood straight up, at attention.

In strode Mendez, swiftly and with confidence. He looked around at each of the young children, and took off his formal military shirt. Everyone here was around 15 now. There were a few exceptions, but that was the age of the majority of the trainees. Takan was one of those exceptions, the only exception that was younger than the rest. He was the only 14 years old. As Mendez finished taking off his shirt, he turned to the trainees.

"For a warm-up, we'll be doing 250 pushups." The commander said confidently.

Some of the children slumped over at the sound of the commander's 'hard training'. Takan was actually disappointed. They had done 250 pushups for warm-up yesterday, and he was hoping for more of a challenge. Oh well. The commander got down on his knees and hands, and prepared to start off the count.

"Ready! One! Two! Three! Four!"

Takan began to do the pushups with such ease, one would think that he wasn't even human. At 100, he was beginning to break a sweat. All the others had begun to break their sweat 20 pushups earlier. At 230, the muscles in his upper arm and chest began to ache a little, but it wasn't anything serious. He looked to his right, and watched as two of the other trainees collapsed on the ground. He looked to his left, where three others had already collapsed. At the mark of 250, everyone collapsed, including Takan. Granted, it wasn't too much of a challenge to him, (compared to many of the other exercises) but it was still very tiring. He laid on the matted floor with his chest to the ground, his chin holding his head up. After 30 seconds or so of rest, The Commander flipped onto his back.

"400 sit-ups! Get Ready! Go! One! Two! Three! Four!"

Shadow flipped onto his back, and began to work with the others.
That was 100 more sit-ups than last time. Perhaps he might not make it this time. After 20 minutes of excruciating muscle exertion, everyone was allowed to take a water break and run the regular 4 miles before they could have breakfast.
Shadow was never good at long distance running, and never was able to clinch first place in the running. He was always 5th or 6th. And it always frustrated him. He would get a stomach cramp about halfway through the run, and he couldn't do anything about it. It angered him greatly, but it didn't keep him from trying his hardest. He kept on working, and never gave up. Today he received 4th place. Better than most of his runs, and he was somewhat satisfied with his run today. Jamie and Bernard were always the ones to get first. They were the fastest of the group, of all 100 of them.

After breakfast, which consisted of a strange brown goop and bread, they were to report to the tutor room, where they were taught history, battle tactics- math, among what he thought to be miscellaneous teachings. Today, they got a history lesson. History was alright- it was much more interesting than the cold calculations of Mathematics, but less invigorating than creating a plan in a battle that could obliterate all others. The teacher was an AI known as Veskin. It was Spartan History.

"Today, trainees, we'll learn about the actions of your predecessors, the Spartan IIs, the reason for these actions, and how they affected the other members of the team."

One of the other trainees, whose name was Gebrard raised his hand.

"Yes number 43?"
"Ma'am, if we're studying and training here to become superior to the Spartan IIs, then why are we studying their battle tactics? Wouldn't those teachings just become a hamper to our own possibly superior maneuvers?" Gebrard interrogated with curiosity, and a slight hint of challenge.
"Well number 43, you are studying here to become physically and mentally superior, but not intellectually. As far as we can analyze, the Spartan IIs made the best maneuvers possible in these situations, and we must learn from them. Any other questions, Number 43?"
"No Ma'am."
"Getting back to the lesson, the first mission launch for the Spartans left them down one member. Today we will review how they lost that member. It all started with the infiltration and planting of explosives within a Covenant cruiser. During the battle, one of the Spartans, who we will name Sam, was injured in a battle. He wasn't severely injured, but his battle suit was damaged. Therefore, he could not pass through the space/air lock back to a friendly vessel. So what this Spartan did was stay inside the Covenant ship and distract the enemy forces away from the other Spartans to allow for their escape. This one Spartan knew that it was his last few minutes, for the detonation would occur within a short time. In his sacrifice the rest of the team was able to escape unscathed. Now students, what elements and principles has this Spartan demonstrated."

Takan slowly raised his hand. The AI turned her head to him, and held up her semi-transparent finger.

"Yes Takan?" she questioned.
"Bravery and Honor," he replied confidently.
"Yes. Takan has told us these two principles. Bravery and Honor. They are two major factors that can determine the outcome of a battle. Later today, Commander Mendez will set up an exercise to teach you students how these two can apply to battle."

A student held her hand up. It was Peggy. She wasn't the brightest of the group, but she could hold her own in the physical activities.

"What is Honor?" she asked with uncertainty.
"Anyone wish to tell what honor is? Yes Azrielle. Can you tell us what honor is?"
"No Ma'am," She answered in conclusive posture.
"Oh? Why not?" Questioned the AI, slightly surprised.
"Because honor is something that cannot be taught. It is something that can only be learned and discovered when it is needed most, Ma'am."

Veskin was a "stupid" AI. She was a class of AI that was not created to learn or discover new things. She was in a class of AIs that were created to assist or teach what they did know to whoever they're programmed to help. These AIs were in vast numbers, and the "intelligent" AIs were generally considered a rarity in the military world. Because Veskin was a "simple" AI, she didn't understand new ideas or approaches to certain files in her library, especially history. To 'simple' AIs, history was just history, something that can't be changed. And aspects such as honor and bravery were set definitions in an AI's file. Different approaches and views on the two did not compute to a simple AI.

"Azrielle, perhaps you are mistaken. But we will discuss some more about history this evening. You are dismissed. Go to the mess hall and start your lunch session."
"Yes Ma'am," everyone responded in unison.

Takan didn't quite understand why the AI used the personal name of the Spartan. Normally in lessons, they used numbers, like 56 and 78 instead of the real names of the Spartans. It was the first time he had heard of the real name of this Spartan. Perhaps the AI used the name of the Spartan as a strategy in her teachings. Using a personal name would be able to accent the actions and help show the magnitude of this one Spartan's sacrifice. And then there was Azrielle's response to the question about the meaning of honor. Despite Veskin's aversion to Azrielle's outlook on the aspects of honor, Takan thought that Azrielle did have a higher grasp of the idea. Perhaps it would be interesting to talk with her during the lunch session.


2568 A.D./ 27 A.C.W: 0330 Hours: Earth, American Continent, Rushton Peninsula, Human Retreat Center Of The Final War

Jan looked towards what was left of the Covenant base. The explosion had done its damage, and many of the trees of the forest that were still on fire from the impact of the explosion and detonation of the generator.
There was an enormous crater at the heart of the forest, where the generator had made its detonation. Pieces of Covenant steel and other building materials were strewn all over the blackened ground, among miscellaneous other objects, including pieces of tanks, shades and other vehicles. There were no body parts, they were things the heat and the power of the explosion immediately disintegrated in the blast. Half the trees of the forest were gone. Just hours before, the entire forest was intact and the humans were struggling for survival. Now the Covenant were gone for good. The explosion was enormous. At first there was only a small explosion in the distance that illustrated the fact that Shadow had completed the mission. Only a few seconds later did the small explosion jump out into a huge plume of fire and smoke, consuming everything. The explosion was so large in magnitude that everyone had to shield their eyes after their first glimpse of it. After an hour, the explosion died down to only a few fires still thrashing to survive the winds of the forest. Seemingly magical particles of blue and green fell from the sky. Everyone in the base knew that it was just the Nervon deposits in the generator that had been tossed out during the explosion. But millions of these blue and green star-like bits seemed to be a grace from God. A testament of his protection of the human race... especially in their darkest hour.
To give the credit to God would be unfair, though- all of it was completed by one man...
Perhaps inspired by God...but it was still only a man. The one man that even though seemed to be reckless and uncontrolled- was the most admired and envied of the Dark Wolves. She was holding it in as long as she could, but could hold out no longer.
She began to break out in a silent weep. Tears flowed down her cheeks and out of her eyes like waterfalls, but she made no sound. She turned to Cal, who was previously just standing there and watching the scene. He turned to her, his eyes all watery, but without any tears coming out. They embraced each other, her tears sopping up his shirt. They were supposed to be heartless, and cold...they seemed to be acting too soft in front of the Spartans. But neither cared about any of that. They had lost their greatest friend, and nothing was going to change that.

"Is there any chance at all that he survived?" She questioned, losing more and more hope with each syllable.
"I don't believe there is," he replied solemnly.

Az was leaning on the stone banister of the veranda, looking out towards the explosion, not a tear nor a teary eye in sight. Shadow would never have wanted them to cry to his death. He wouldn't even want them to remember him. They just wanted him to disappear from their minds. All their pain for him- all the pain for Geb. He just wanted it all to go away. The fact that they were feeling bad only went against his wishes. She wasn't going to anger him up in the heavens.
She looked down. She couldn't let herself watch that fiery inferno anymore. The balcony was about 200 feet up above the ground on a ledge of the cliff where the Retreat Base was dug in. She shook her head once and then looked to Jan and Cal, who were still in the midst of embracing each other.

"We go for four years without taking a scratch. And then in one day, we lose both our leader and our greatest fighter. It's just not fucking fair!" She began out without reason, with an increasing rise in anger and intensity.

She clenched her fist tightly and slammed the balcony banister, breaking off half of the stuff from their holdings on the balcony and sending it flying to the ground with a loud crash along the cliff wall and the dirt ground. She still didn't cry, her fists were closed tightly and she was shaking uncontrollably.

"It's just not goddamn fair! The one time we decide to enlighten ourselves with actually trying to do something worthwhile in God's eyes, he takes our lives away! What is with that shit! It's just not fair!" She screamed with no remorse and no regret.
"We can't change it now Az," Cal mediated in his normal cynicism.
"We should go home. Staying here will do nothing for us." Jan said.

Az looked back to the blaze that was still afire in the forest. She slowly loosened her grip, and stopped shaking.

"I guess you're right." Az said.
"Let's go home." Cal said with finality.

Az seemed to have cooled down a bit, but she still seemed angry about something. They turned to go back into the base, but before they could get to the double glass window doors that led into it, they swung wide open. In the wake of the doorway stood the Spartans. Their armor glistened in the sunlight that was beginning to pass up over the horizon.
Before anyone could do anything Az screamed out like a banshee and grabbed John by his armored collar. She looked at him for a second. In her eyes, John could see a sense of desperation, and extreme sadness. Tears were in her eyes, and he thought he knew why. She only looked at him for a brief second before flipping him over her shoulder, landing him square on his back. Before he could get up or retaliate, she kicked him in the gut, sending him to the edge of the now railing-less balcony. His head hanging over the edge, Az immediately followed up on her attack. She landed with a knee to his gut, and pulled out a pistol. She aimed right under the helmet, where she could get a nice clean shot.

"You fucking bastards! You brought all this shit about! If you guys could actually stop those damn Covenant! It's your goddamn job! Not ours! We lost our best comrades and our closest brothers in that battle! You goddamn cowards! Why didn't you fuckers do it yourself! This is your job assholes! Why was it Shadow that had to die! He was the last one that was to blame! Why couldn't it be me! Dammit! Well, hell to that. Hell to it all! Hell to this fucking miserable existence that I call life!" She screamed out in even more agony and pain.

John had not a chance to make a move before the Spartans were all over her.
Kelly was the first there. She dashed straight towards John and Az, coming to screeching halt in her titanium boots. She pulled Az off with amazing strength and helped John up. James grabbed Az's pistol and tossed it over the edge. There would have been a sharp cling of the pistol hitting the ground, but everyone was arguing too much for anything else to be heard.

"Goddamn! You volunteered for this!"
"Dammit NO! We volunteered cause you shit-heads couldn't handle it!"
"What? Shadow even volunteered to stop the Covenant!"
"I don't care! You're fucking inability to kill jack shit has cost us lives!"
"Cal is right! We lost..."
"I don't care what you lost! You want to hear what WE lost? We lost 16,000..."
"Soldiers! Yes! Soldiers! Ones who are supposed to end this goddamn war! And what do they do? They sit there in a stupor as only we save their hides!"
"Their lives are more than you failures will ever be!"
"Perhaps our lives are nothing in the eyes of the military, but you just understand that our bonds were stronger than you will ever have with each other. You work together. That's it. You have no emotions for each other. You are just cold-blooded machines! That's what you are!"
"Machines! What the hell, you guys have no right to criticize..."
"Because we're assassins? What's that have to do with it?"

Linda finally had the common sense to break up the fighting. She stood between both groups, preventing them both from killing each other.

"Look. Fighting with each other isn't going to get any of us anywhere. Dark Wolves, I know that you are saddened by your loss, and I know it can be hard. But we had nothing to do with it. And you know it. You're just trying to find someone to blame for your loss. What Shadow did was on his own accord, and you can't blame us for him wanting to do something good and whole for a change. And the rest of you Spartans, I can't believe you're telling the Dark Wolves off! We're here because we have to be. We're part of the military, enlisted to stop the enemy. They came here because they felt it was the right thing to do. And in doing so, they lost two of their greatest friends. And then you have the nerve to call them unwholesome and worthless? Dark Wolves, what can we do for you? We are in your debt."

"A ride away from this hellhole," Jan said bluntly.
"Then you have one. We have your transport ready to go."
"Thank you."

Rebirth - Shadow's Prologue - Part 2
Date: 3 January 2003, 9:59 pm

NOTE: You will need to have read Rise To Honor by Shadow, or at least the last few chapters of his series in order to understand this prologue. If you haven't, or don't plan to, you will NOT understand most of the important elements of this story.

2559 A.D./20 A.C.W: 0430 Hours: Earth, European Continent, Atika Mountains, Secret Military Training Camp, Spartan III Project

Takan and the others stood in a line at the exercise room again. They looked straight at the wall in front of them, not fidgeting at all. They had been working hard, and they had learned a bit of discipline in the recent year. The Commander called out, groups of three. Takan was quite annoyed with his partners. They were Tam and Kim. They were both very average participants, and they preferred to never help anyone but each other out in the exercises. He hoped they'd make an exception today, or the entire team was going to go down in flames. The Commander began pacing back and forth.

"Your mission today is to get through this obstacle course, as a team. All the teams will be going at the same time. There will be no obstruction of other teams, or any interaction with them at any point. When you finish the course, you are to sit down in one line. I will know that you are all finished. Are we clear?"
"Yes sir!" everyone replied in unison.

The course didn't seem extremely hard. First, there was huge ditch in the floor filled halfway with water. After that, there were many logs placed above another ditch filled with water. Beyond that was a pole set down horizontally and suspended above another deep ditch. The only way that was allowed to get across was to climb across the pole in any way possible. At the end was a huge 20-foot wall where only ropes were used to climb.
Takan couldn't see, but he assumed that the other end was without any rope, and the team would have to jump down to get to the end. He shrugged his shoulders. This drill didn't seem very hard at all. He looked up, and the Commander had a whistle in his mouth. He held up his hand, and each team got ready to get through the obstacle course as quick as possible. Takan was going to go as fast as possible.

The Commander snapped his arm down, and blew the whistle at the same time. The entire trainee force quickly began their course. Takan quickly whizzed by Tam and Kim, and was one of the first ones to the ditch. He jumped as far as he could, and landed about halfway through it. He landed with a wet splash, and quickly waded through. He pulled himself up, and began with the logs.
Only 5 others were still with him. Everyone else, including Kim and Tam, was fighting their way through the ditch.
It was remarkably small, especially to fit 100 trainees. He and the other 5 were lucky to have been the first ones in and out. He quickly slid along the logs, moving past the other 5 as they tried to walk along. As he began to slow down along the slippery log, he began a quick jog along it with no hint of losing his balance at any point during the run. The martial arts that he had taken as a child had helped him greatly. As he finished the end, he ran towards the next course. There was only one other that was still with him. He dove towards the laying pole, and grabbed with both hands and locked both legs around each other on the pole. He let his body swing down below the pole, and he quickly pulled himself along in a similar fashion to that of a caterpillar.
As he moved along, he looked back and saw that Tam and Kim were still struggling along the log. He watched as Kim fell to the water filled ditch and quickly climbed out to attempt again. He quickly finished with the pole, and dashed to the wall. He looked to his right and saw that the other trainee was completely even with him. She was a female, and even though he was concentrating fully on the wall, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful that she was. After holding the look, he finally realized that it was Azrielle, one of the reclusive and quiet ones. Just like him.
He grabbed the rope and quickly scaled up it, Azrielle did the same with just as much finesse. They both reached the top at the same, and slammed into the ground with complete unison. But when they both landed on the wall and sat down, the Commander ran towards them, and began yelling.

"What is wrong with you maggots? I said work as a team! Both of you have left your team to the enemy! You scale that wall back and help your team! Don't go lone-wolf on me or both of you go to the cooler!" He yelled with extreme fanaticism.

Takan and Azrielle looked at each other with equal regret and both began to scale the wooden wall without any rope.
It took him three times as long to get up the wall. He didn't notice how Azrielle was doing. He was too angry to even bother to look.
He didn't know why he was angry, or who he was angry at.
Later that day, he would think about it and realize that he was actually angry at himself. As he finished scaling the wall, he realized that many of the other teams had already began to scale it.

He dove out forwards beyond the other teams, and landed with a quick and nearly silent thump. He dashed back to the logs and slid along halfway. Tam and Kim were the last team. They were really struggling with the logs.
Tam was getting frustrated. She didn't know if she could take it any longer. She was losing balance, and the log began to rotate again. If she fell again, she was going to cry! But a hand jumped out in front of her before she could slip completely.
She grabbed hold and was systematically pulled along the log. Only after she was safe did she look up to see who her savior was!
Was it Kim? It couldn't be. She was still working hard to get across as well. She looked up and realized it was Takan. Kim was also kneeling there, coughing heavily. Both their clothes were extremely soaked and the pants and shirts clung to their skin.

"Come on. We don't have much time."

He held out his hand again, and she let him pull her up to her legs. They quickly moved to the final obstacle. The wall... Kim looked at it with awe, and then looked to Takan.

"It's too tall. I can't do it!"
"You can't do it alone, but the commander taught us that if we worked together, we will be able to do it."

She quickly nodded and began to climb up the wall, Takan quick to follow on the same rope. Tam had no problem. She was quite good at climbing.
Kim was having a huge problem climbing up. She constantly slipped, but Takan was there to stop her fall. Each time she landed on him though, his hands gripped and slid just a little bit.
After five minutes, they still hadn't reached the top. But they were close. Tam was at the top, holding her hand out to Kim. The skin on Takan's hands was already torn off, and the rope was beginning to go to work on the second layer. But he held steady, and waited for Tam to lift Kim up. He pushed up as hard as he could, his head slowly moving Kim up. After 8 whole minutes, they made it up the wall, and they barely had to strength to even land their fall over the other side. They slowly sat down in their line and awaited orders from Commander Mendez.

"Now. Have we learned our lessons? Especially number 97? Have we learned that teamwork will be the only way to survive here?"
"Yes sir."

He indeed had learned a valuable lesson today. He had learned that even though his teammates were totally and utterly useless, they were a team and they had to stick together if they ever hoped to survive anywhere. He'd realized that halfway up that wall, but at the time, he was too angry to realize it. He was so angry with the Commander and himself. He was angry with the Commander for making him go back. He believed he could do it all on his own. But later that day, he realized that teamwork would have been better that day. It would have been better to work together.

They walked with the others to the mess hall where they were to have dinner. The mess hall was a traditional large room. It had one very long window on the right side that gave a perfect outlook to mountains. They were beautiful to him. Anything nature had amazed him and put him awe. And the mountains were no different. The windows there had one of the best views he had ever seen. The window was on the exact opposite wall, and the serving counter was on the right wall. Tables littered the entire center of the room. Takan preferred to sit by himself, and today he got his way. He sat down at his table, thinking of the earlier events of the day. He wasn't hungry tonight, and decided that eating would only cloud his thoughts. Why had he been so selfish in leaving his team behind? Was he really that cold and heartless? Maybe... He didn't know anymore. Everything was just too confusing for him now. He wanted to blame someone. But he really was the only to blame. He couldn't blame Kim and Tam for their incompetence. And he couldn't blame the commander for trying to prepare them for the war. He was the only last candidate. At least he wasn't the only one. There was Azrielle...

He was about to get up to go to bed early, but he heard the crashing of tables. He looked over to where everyone ate, but there were no problems there. He looked to his right and saw a lone table where Janet ate. He stood up and watched two larger trainees lean on the overturned table.

"You costed us the first place slot at the course Janet!"
"Yea! You'll pay for that hun. There aren't any soldiers here. You will get your due."
"I'm sorry, guys. I'm just not good with water. I'm really sorry!"

One of the bullying trainees slammed his fist into his open palm. It looked like they were going to beat her up. Well, that was just plain wrong. There was nothing honorable in hurting one of the lesser trainees merely because of her lack of abilities. He was going to act. He stood up, and began to casually walk towards Janet and the two other trainees.

"What are you two doing? Is that how you flirt?" he said with a sardonic tone.
"This isn't any of your business Takan."
"Oh? So standing by and watching a fellow soldier get beaten up would be the right thing to do?" He questioned.

Before the fool could answer, Takan's foot was already in his face. He fell backwards from the blow. His nose was already broken. Takan followed up swiftly with a sharp punch to the gut. He spun around, with his fist leading the shot. He slammed the buffoon with a backfist to the cheek, and he fell to the ground in pain. The other fool came towards him, fist back and ready to attack Takan from behind. Takan quickly spun around and made a quick shot to the trainee's knee, snapping it backwards. The trainee stopped dead in his tracks, yelling in pain. Takan spun around again, this time leading with his foot. The spinning kick rammed right into the trainee's face and sent him sprawling to the ground. He looked at them both and then to Janet.

"Don't let anyone bully you around," He said simply while he began walking to his dorm.
"Oh no man. You're not getting away. Those were our friends you just hurt," One of the other watching trainees said with anger.
"Do you want your ass kicked too?" Takan replied coolly.
"There's 10 of us and one of you!" he yelled with confidence.
"You're going to stand up for those buffoons who were trying to bully one of your own teammates? Despicable."

Azrielle walked out from the crowd and stood next to Takan, her fists up.

"I'm not standing on the side to let another teammate fall. Bring it on."

The second she walked out, Gebrard also poked out of the crowd and stood next to them.

"They're right. What you're doing is wrong. I'll stand for righteousness any day."

Even though they still outnumbered Takan, Azrielle and Gebrard by 10 to 3, they seemed a little fidgety and a bit less confident. But before the big brawl could begin, Commander Mendez swung open the doors and quickly stood between the two groups to cease the violence.

"Hey hey! You trainees are training to fight with each other! Not against each other... What's this all about?" he asked with sincere curiosity.

Commander Mendez honestly wanted to hear both sides of the story. He wasn't one of those adults that would listen to the explanation, and then punish them even if their explanation showed a perfect reason. No, he wanted to know the truth, and develop a punishment, or lack thereof based on the information.

"Sir, I saw two of my teammates picking on another one of us. They were going to rough her up. I decided to stop it. Once I took those two down, these other trainees, who had apparently formed a clique with those buffoons decided to challenge me."
"I see. Is this true?"
"Yes sir..."
"Well then your entire team will be punished with extra pushups and sit-ups tomorrow. I am not giving out any more severe punishments because I did not see this. But will not see any more violence. Is that clear?"
"Yes sir!"

Rebirth - Shadow's Prologue - Part 3
Date: 17 January 2003, 12:17 am

NOTE: You will need to have read Rise To Honor by Shadow, or at least the last few chapters of his series in order to understand this prologue. If you haven't, or don't plan to, you will NOT understand most of the important elements of this story.


Takan and the other trainees watched the commander intently as he walked back and forth from one end of the room to the other. They were still waiting for one more trainee who had been a bit 'reluctant' to wake up this morning. He watched as a boy a year older than he quickly walked into the room. He had dirty blonde hair and was a little taller than he was. He was also a bit stronger, and he was known for being a very good leader of his team. His team consisted of a few underdogs, and the commander decided that because of his good skills as a leader, he could possibly shape them up to be a bit stronger in the physical activities. But according to the recent exercises, the attempt didn't seem to be working quite all that well. The name of the trainee was Gebrard, but everyone called him Geb. Takan watched as Geb quickly sat down, and two guardians were quick to walk in after him and stand at the back of the room, just in case things became a bit rowdy for some unpredicted reason. The Commander looked out the large window at the front of the room. It took up virtually the entire front wall. It gave a great gaping view of the little indoor battlefield. It was pretty large, about the size of a football field. On each side, there were sets of barricades. On each side, there was a flag placed into a slot located at the top of a small black box. There were weapons on racks on each side. Each was filled with MAB2s, which were small machineguns that were very similar to the old MA5Bs, but fired at a slower rate, with a more accurate burst. Next to them was a set of the old shotguns. They seemed like the real weapons; though Takan suspected that the Commander was not going to be using live ammunition in whatever exercise this was. The Commander continued to pace back and forth, apparently contemplating something. Finally, the stopped right at the middle of the room, right in front of the trainees.

"Ok, this will be your most physically and mentally demanding exercise you've gone through here so far. But most of all, this exercise will teach you how to work together as a team. I've set up teams," he said with an ominous tone.

One of the soldiers in the back quickly jogged to the Commander and handed him a clear blipboard and quickly jogged to the back of the room again. The Commander pressed the activation button, and the transparent board quickly hummed to life, showing a two-column list. For the first time, Takan realized that in addition to the main entrance in the back of the room, there were two hallways that led out on each of the side-walls. The Commander lifted his arm and pointed to one of the hallways, still looking down at the clipboard.

"Numbers: 56, 88, 23, 45, 22, 49..."

The Commander continued on with the list until half of the trainees had been announced in a seemingly random fashion.

"You trainees will go down this hall. There you will be briefed on the mission. The rest of you are to go down this hall here."

The Commander quickly pointed to the other hallway. Takan was within the half that was not selected for the right terminal. He and the trainees stood up in an almost complete unison and began to file into the hallway. The hallway was brightly lit and made the gray walls almost seem as if they were white. The hallway ramped downwards and to the right, causing Takan to realize that it was leading straight to the battlefield area. The door in front of them quickly slid open and the trainees walked into battlefield. There was already an officer at their barricaded end of the battlefield. Takan wondered how that guy got there before they did. The soldier began to give out orders.

"Each of you will have a choice of one weapon. Ammunition in this battle will be supplied in abundance, and you will not have to worry about that. We will be using tranquilizer darts instead of live rounds. Dummy rounds were considered to be too inaccurate in portraying the situation of the battlefield. We want to make this as realistic as possible without the deaths. The point of the mission is to find a way of capturing the opponent's flag and bring it back to your base before yours can be stolen. There will be no physical contact. Only weapon fire. We don't want to kill our adversaries here, only beat them. Are there any questions?"
"Sir, no sir!" they said in complete unison.
"Good. Grab your weapons, and prepare for the battle. Good luck."

Each of the soldiers quickly ran to the racks to grab their weapons. Takan debated on which weapon to choose. Naturally, the shotgun provided more power. But in this situation, only one dart would do the trick to send an enemy down. So the assault rifle would be not only more effective, but more efficient as well. And so he grabbed one of the assault rifles, and prepped. He leaned up against one of the barricades, ready for some signal that would initiate the battle. He heard a thump next to him. He quickly turned around and saw it was Callad.

"Hello Takan. Guess we're here together," he said.
"Yes, we are." He replied without any care.

He heard another thump next to him on the other side. He looked and saw that it was Azrielle.

"Azrielle?" He asked.
"Call me Az. And what do you want?" she replied amiably.
"Well, I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me back at the mess hall."
"Don't worry about it. I did it because it was the right thing to do."
"Is Gebrard here?"
"Yes I'm here," Gebrard replied.

Takan looked up and saw Gebrard standing over them, looking down.

"Well, I wanted to thank you as well."
"I did it for the same reasons as you and Az. Now let's get down to fighting."
"Can I stay with you guys too?" Asked a jumpy, seemingly excited voice.

Takan turned behind him and saw that it was Janet. He nodded to her. Looked like they were going to be her bodyguards again today. She sat down next to the rest of them, and they formed a small circle.

A loud, chirp from the alarm told them that the battle had begun. He was the first to get up on his knees and begin firing. He fired at full automatic, and the darts seemed to fire just as accurately. A second later, the others poked up above the barricades and began firing as well. He looked to his right and saw that 6 on their side had already fallen. They seemed to be loosing numbers fast. If that was how real battles were fought, then they'd need to have better training than this to stay alive. He heard the click of the gun, and he quickly realized that he was out. He ducked beneath the safe haven of the barricade to hide. He As he did so, he looked to his left to see the others. One was hiding behind the barricade, but he fell down as if he was dead. But he was behind the barricade! Just then a flash of light came through the barricade and he watched as a dart poke right through.

"Damnit, the barricades can't hold off the darts. We need to do something."
"Yes, but what?" Az replied cooly.
"I say that we find cover in that mound of dirt over there. That dirt spans the entire length of the battlefield. If we can get there, we can quickly sneak up behind their ranks and take their flag before they even know it," Geb replied confidently.
"That's a good idea, but we'll need more men than we have now," Takan replied.
"I'll go summon some of their forces. You make a break for the wall, and make sure it's secure. The others might have already had the idea," Cal said with a hint of bravery about breaking off from the rest of them to accomplish a separate goal.
"Right," Az said.

Takan looked around, and waited for Geb and Azrielle to make their first move. Geb led the small force to the huge 'hill' along the side of the battlefield. As soon as Takan left to join them, he could hear the muffled blasts of rifles on the other side. He quickly dashed to the hill, and moved to join them. Apparently the other team had the same idea. Takan quickly ran up, but watched as Geb fell to the ground. He looked down with slight remorse, and then began to fire at the two enemy soldiers there. With quick blasts from both Az and him, the two soldiers went down quickly. They looked at Geb and then began to move along the hill. They poked their heads out the other side and saw that the enemies were completely preoccupied with the main battle. He heard loud clanking behind him, and he quickly spun around. But to his fortunate surprise, it was Cal and a set of 6 other soldiers.

"We lost Gebrard," Az proclaimed.
"Yea, I saw. So how are we going to do this?" Cal replied and questioned.
"Az and I will go in to steal the flag. The rest of you will provide cover fire, if we are found out. If we fall, you get the flag. Got it?"
"Right."

Takan nodded to Az and they both made a dizzying dash for the flag. Az got there first, and she quickly unhooked it from its notch in the black box and began a full sprint back. Takan stood behind her, facing towards the opponents. Both of them refrained from firing a shot, lest it alerted the enemy to their theft. One of them immediately noticed their theft, and began firing at Az. Before he could do any damage, Takan dropped him. But the soldier was enough to alert the others. Before they knew it, about half of the force began fire on them. Takan flattened himself on the ground, and fired back. Lucky for him, the main concern with the enemy was the flag. He dropped as many as he could, but it wasn't enough. Azrielle was impacted with a hail of enemy fire, and she fell down as if she had just been a deactivated robot. He took a second to finish off two more, and he made a mad dash for the flag. He scraped it up from the ground, and made a full dive behind the hill. He waited there, on the ground for a few seconds, half-expecting darkness to take over. But it didn't. He looked up, and watched as one of his comrades fell to the ground. He got up, and quickly dashed along the hill while Cal's team covered him. He blew right out of the hill and ran straight for the barricades.

"COVER ME!!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

The others turned to him and saw that he had the flag. They all immediately stood up and formed a human wall in front of him as he dashed across the border to insert the flag into the notch. Many members of the team fell trying to protect him, but in the end it was worth it. He finally reached the black flag, and he took no waste in tasting the sweetness of victory. That would come after he achieved it completely. He inserted it, and yelled out in joy and holding his hands up. The others immediately dropped their weapons and raised their hands in the air. The gunfire immediately ceased, and the other team knew that they had failed. They too dropped their weapons, and slowly walked over to congratulate the winners.


2569 A.D./ 27 A.C.W: 0330 Hours: Earth, American Continent, Rushton Peninsula, Human Retreat Center Of The Final War

After the battle, Takan, Geb, Jan and Cal all made a silent pact to cover each other's backs and to keep watch over each other. No one ever said anything about such a thing, but it was quietly assumed and expected from each other. Even though their friendship had grown strong, their bonds with Commander Mendez and the entire military excursion seemed to be growing weaker and weaker. When the Commander announced that they were going to be going under cybernetic and chemical enhancement, none of them could take it anymore. They had to break out. These enhancements were never announced, and none of them wanted any part of this crap anymore. It took many days of planning in the mess hall and of arguing over probabilities and other details over specifications throughout the complex. There was a ventilation shaft outside in the main hall. That would be where they could make their escape. The main hall of the dorms was generally unguarded, and they decided that there would be the location of their escape. To reach the top ventilation shaft, they would have to find something to bolster their height and allow them to reach the ceiling where the entrance to the ventilation shaft was located. They found that the chairs in each of their dorms could be stacked if the legs of all the chairs except the ground level one were cut off. The stacking would be efficient, clean and stable. They planned that night. At 2 'o clock, each of them: Callad, Azrielle, Takan, Gebrard and Janet all sneaked out of their individual dorm rooms and quickly made their way down the long, winding hallway to the spot where they had designated as their escape route. Janet had brought the stacked chairs with her. The day before, instead of eating at dinner, they were working hard in Janet's room to prepare the boosting device. It was quite a wonder, and Takan realized for the first time that she had quite a knack for making things out of almost complete scrap. She quietly placed it on the ground, and Geb climbed up the stack of chairs, careful not to knock them down. If they did, they'd probably all be court marshaled, and in the case that they were at a secret laboratory and training center, they would most likely be murdered and be reported as accidentally killed during an exercise. He found the vent, but it was welded in tight.

"It's stuck!" exclaimed Geb.
"Hold on, I have a blowtorch in my room," Jan replied quickly.

After she left to get the torch, they all looked at each other with the same confused look. Where the hell did she get a blowtorch?
She couldn't possibly have made one out of the scratch that she seemed to be getting all the time at the arenas and exercise rooms. He shrugged his shoulders. He had learned one thing at martial arts, and it went something like this: "If you are given a miracle you do not understand, do not ask of its creation or origin. Just be happy with what you have and be grateful for it."
It seemed like a strange wacko saying, but it applied perfectly in this situation. Jan returned in no time, panting hard. She had apparently sprinted the entire hallway and back. She tossed up the blowtorch and Geb immediately began work. In addition to actually working, it was quiet as well. Jan had really planned ahead. Within a few minutes, the vent was open, and Geb tossed down the torch. Az caught it, and they each climbed into the vent. The specs said that it led straight to the exit of the base. They would have no trouble after that.


2568 A.D./ 27 A.C.W: 0132 Hours: Earth, American Continent, Rushton Peninsula, 2 Miles Off Human Retreat Center Of The Final War

Shadow closed his eyes as the explosion came right at his face. He expected an extreme wave of heat and then an extreme sense of pain before his death. But he felt none of that. In fact, there was no sound of the explosion at all. It had simply vanished from his ears. The total lack of sound seemed even more exaggerated with such a difference between the sound of the inferno, and this sudden sense of quiet tranquility.
Was the explosion so loud that he had already become deaf? That was a very likely situation. He slowly opened his eyes, and he was rewarded with not a blast from a fiery inferno, but it seemed it was a blast from something else. The fire had utterly disappeared. But what was strange, was that all the damage had as well. There was no hint of fire at all. No burned branches- no detonation crater in front of him. Heck, there wasn't even a Covenant base! Not even a decimated one! What the hell was going on?

He could hear the carefree chirping of the birds in the area, and now he knew something was up. The birds would have flown away long before the explosion had hit here. And there was no evidence of any explosion at all. It was all so strange. The forest seemed somewhat similar to how it was before the explosion had sounded; though there weren't as many fallen trees in the area. Perhaps he was in heaven. Maybe this WAS heaven. He took his hands away from his face, and placed them on the ground, and tried to push himself up. Immediately, he was hit with an extreme pang in both of his legs. He could feel them both with extreme potency, but he couldn't move them at all. Were they broken? He looked behind him and realized it was beyond that. They were shattered. This wasn't heaven. His legs were still broken from the explosion. There was something wrong here, but he had no way of finding out...

Rebirth - Tras'Lok; Small Deception
Date: 23 January 2003, 7:35 pm

"What is life?"
This very same question has intrigued us for thousands of years, baffling and mystifying us, never really revealing it's true purpose. Is it because aging is preached as natural that we have not conquered it? What if aging is a disease set upon the human race to wipe it out piece, by pathetic, whining piece?

What lies within fear, other than anger? What is war, other than a process of infection used by a naive virus to destroy a world, and a once glorious people? Perhaps humanity is not a people, but a gathering of parasites, a congealed cesspool of corruption and hatred?
Death is only the beginning.

-High King Yalan



Dec, 22, 3604 (Human Military Calendar)
Covenant Battle Group 'Draconian Nightmare', in high orbit around Earth.


An astonishingly beautiful, yet somewhat eccentric looking young woman stood confidently atop a landing built of solid magrite, overlooking Uzumri's bridge.
Revealing midnight black robes decorated with metallic golden runic symbols clung tightly in form-fitting caress to her curvaceous body; in truth, they left little to the imagination, perfectly showcasing a flawless figure.
And lo, how her raven black hair writhed, silken banners in a new breeze drifting majestically to perfection!
Why should vaporous, translucent mists wish to hide such things, the woman's comely ankles, shapely legs and sandal clad feet?
Such graceful movements, so regal a bearing, an aura of power and absolute ruthlessness!
Deep emerald eyes encasing scattered silver sparkles, so vibrant, so full of life, yet so utterly unforgiving, and so completely cold.

"Never waver, never falter."
She gazed resolutely at the main view-screen.

"Please!" The old man begged as each wrinkle in his ancient face seemingly deepened. "Spare this colony, you are one of us!"
A human male, age seventy or so, with eyes of sharp obsidian stared into the malevolent orbs of his current enemy, wide eyed, one could easily see.
"Destroy Earth." She taunted slyly, rather impassively.
The old man recoiled at this, his thin, sticklike arms rising in protest.
"Please!" He squealed.
The woman raised a hand, each nail perfectly manicured- black as her indecent robes, sharpened to dagger-like finesse; her skin remarkably delicate, flawless as the rest of her body.
"I beg of you, earth is the last bastion of humanity, do not annihilate us like common cannon fodder, let us live, we could benefit you greatly!"
His eyes were pleading, his look was indeed convincing.
The woman paused a moment, hands sliding to her sides, seemingly considering such a plea, reflecting on the choice she would make.
"Very well old man," The girl whispered solemnly, frowning, her expression was one of profound sorrow. "We shall not fire on earth."

"Thank you My Lady!" He cried, his own look that of a man who has won his catch, that of a sniveling, greedy merchant.
The view-screen flickered off.
"Arms Master."

"Yes My Lady?" Queried a particularly strong looking elite swordsman to her right.
He had the look of a marble statue, expressionless and unblinking.
"Instruct the Freedom's Reign and the Shadow Kiss to glass the... insult."
"It shall be done as you say My Lady." Several spines on the top of his head flexed.

The view-screen snapped to color... again.
"We had an agreement!" Shrieked the old man.
"I lied." The Revancer retorted innocently.
Instantly their communications link sliced itself in two, static piercing her ears before a Scientist cut it loose.
She didn't care much for ships, they were useful devices designed to benefit any given civilization instructed in their uses; be it peace or war, but they stole the elements away; those sacred things such as water, air, and soil.
These too being valued greatly by her order, sent chills down the spine of any to behold them. No matter where it lie- no matter whom it belong, it was sacred ground, and must be respected.
Once, the young woman could recall, a lowly Hari-key, or grunt in human terms, had asked what a Revancer was. This particular explanation was lengthy, in order the domesticated mind of the simplistic little beast thoroughly understand the term.
Quite simply a play on words; 'Rev' meaning 'Reaver', a feared and ruthless warrior, and an aspect of sorcery belonging to several schools of magic. Regularly, it seemed that none of the initiates actually passed the first series of tests, thus only one or two Revancers ever existed for extended periods.
They specialize in warping the elements at their disposal to do their bidding. Say for example, a Revancer had a- great many energy fields or mineral deposits in the immediate vicinity, their powers would differ if certain other materials were present, like air and water. One or the other, orbs of blue plasma, or great shafts of sharpened ice?

"My Queen, the Shadow Kiss is hailing us." Weilan, an Intejii, was a bulging mass of flesh and obtrusive tentacles. His wily, pulsating eyes eased from their ropelike sockets, bloodshot and slimy. Grotesque purple skin slithered across his oddly mutated body, like some freak of nature. It described 'flaked tanned hide' perfectly. Packing in a quivering, ever changing evenly paced voice, Weilan sounded a demented flute with each word spoken.

"Tell them to glass that planet, Intejii."
She turned then, stepping silently from her elevated position and walking through a set of sliding doors.
Dimly lit corridors, each branching away from one another, greeted her with open arms, violet walls shining purposefully. Many covenant, belonging to various species and castes, saluted her, placing their right hand in the general area of their face, relaxed, fingers spread, palm facing inwards, and clasped their right wrist with their left hand.
Every gesture was acknowledged by issuing forth a barely perceptible nod.
Covenant customs dictated that a salute was a sign of respect, and it must be recognized and returned unless the creature receiving it had no hands, no matter the position within the hierarchy. Though each salute was different according to caste (by whatever minimal margin), they all meant the same things, either respect, or the acknowledgement of a superior within any given society.
Too though, it was only polite, when respect is shown, a gesture appreciative of such a thing is performed, one should show gratefulness.

From the bridge there were three identical corridors, the centermost was the "Sara-vadau", or "Gate to all". Flanked by the "Sara-Iludios", "Gate of Peace", and the "Sara-Preyos", "Gate of War."
How appropriate these titles seemed, the Revancer mused. One led to sleeping quarters, eating grounds, laboratories and other things, whilst the other led to armories, torpedo tubes, and imprisonment chambers.
Sara-vadau of course, spread through the very center, moving off to anything, heaven or hell, north or south, east or west.

A small Jackal warrior, called a Quizal, stumbled into her, knocking itself off balance and sprawling over, casting it's impenetrable shield away.
"Forgive me My Lady, forgive me!" It rasped.
She kicked it, obviously none too gently, and kept walking.
The fault was not hers, but rather the Quizal's. It should have seen her coming and immediately hugged itself to the corridor wall, the fact that her lack of attention probably caused it was irrelevant, as the Quizal had failed to do its duty.
Its worth was nothing compared to her own, it did not deserve mercy.

The Quizal peered after, golden eyes shining in suppressed discontent. "Waste of food." It muttered once she was well out of her acute little earshot. Setting itself on clawed feet once more, she flicked the small satchel at her waist, checking its contents for her assigned message, which was to be delivered to one Tras'Lok within five minutes written time. Grimacing as she glanced at her wrist Chronometer, ringing in at three minutes having passed, she sprinted for the tripod doors and nearly fell head over heels as they shot open before her with a quiet exhale of compressed air.
"Message for Arms Master Tras'Lok, honored ones!" She sputtered, having been greeted by an imposing nine foot Torra, silver-black armor ripping away every trace of light directed at it. A gauntlet shod with wicked looking curved spikes rested on her shoulder. "Stand easy, Quizal. Let's see this message you've brought to me."

Tras stretched his hand out to receive the slim creature's message. Ironically enough, it looked much like the Jackal that humanity had seen fit to call it. As expected, the small scroll of rough parchment was passed into his hand. Breaking the wax seal, he began to read its contents, barely legible, seemingly written by some random infant picked by drawing names out of a headpiece. He only knew one Torra capable of such a mockery, unintentional as it was.


Scorn me not my dear dark maiden,
Like wings to water,
Surface shaven, be naught a Haven; Forever Alter, doomed to falter.

My coveted treasure,
My perfect warrior,
My flawless creation,
Daughter of Covenant

Blessed be life, my shadowed maiden, show naught mercy
For there is hatred,
Show naught kindness,
For there is coldness

Cruel eye,
Forever lie,
In lands of shadows,
Death is Nye.

Show me your power,
Show me your weakness,
Give my your strength,
Show me your courage.

Hard they fall,
Thousands tall,
Show no mercy,
Kill them all.

Cruel Eye,
Forever lye,
In lands of shadows,
Shade doeth lie.


Frowning, he turned to the Quizal, startled when he found that it wasn't there. Apparently she saw this from her position on the floor, kneeling to his left, lips nearly touching his boots. "My Lord." She pressed a small vial of translucent liquid into his hand. Examining the peculiar substance, he couldn't help but wonder whether or not it was something familiar to him. The nasty concoction not only smelled awful, but tiny, nutty looking chunks swirled around inside it. "Unnamed says that Lord Tras'Lok must pour vial's contents about his poem." He looked down on the small Quizal, whose overall demeanor had belied its ignorance.
"Why do you kneel before me, Quizal? You are a warrior, an assassin. Not some decadent courtyard apprentice." Most Covenants he'd seen would merely salute him and be done with any social interaction, this one was abnormal to him. She acted as if she was slave-born, plundered as booty.
"I am in presence of nobility, my Lord."
Tras simply laughed, allowing his will to set down one gentle reproof. "Far from it, Assassin. Have you a name by which you are called?" The Quizal nodded hesitantly, fingers spreading among their brethren, scanning better holds. "Urien, my Lord." She replied.
Debilitating his jaw to approximate smiling, he spoke two kind words. "Arise, Urien." The Quizal gripped his waiting hand, vial in all, and pulled itself up. "Thank you my Lord."

Doing as instructed, he poured the vial's contents onto the letter, and watched the wording fluctuate into something more, something puzzling, with clearly defined paragraphs, a date, and various other components which were necessary to the creation of a letter. He read.


Alas, my friend. That time is upon us again, whence we must rise to greet the coming tides of the times. Although, in this incarnation the enemy lies not without, but within our very grasp... This time, we can strike hard and fast, deliver the deathblow.
There seems to be a dearth of truth in the one, which I speak. You know whom I detail, and you know what must be done. For a thousand years and more the Lannaan have protected Doomharrow interests. Have ferreted out weak links and traitors. As it's leading figurehead you must see to your duty. As the debonair Arms Master you will carry out your duty.
If not, there is always the option of finding one better suited to the task. You know the enemy within, and sometimes the rules must be broken to protect our monarchy. The times call to you. Do you accept and heed that warning, that omen of unwavering chance to succeed those in the past?

The self-centered bitch Queen must be brought under control, else she drives our race to its last breath, and into eternal sleep never to wake again. You must quell the internal rebellion of Shade, the means to that end I leave to you.

With full confidence,
-Kreled, Arch-Spire of Pegasi grid twenty three thirty two


Unconsciously, he rolled up Kreled's scroll and stuffed it into his pocket, turning to Urien and nodding. "Thank you, Urien. That will be all." She seemed to be slouching in dismay now, mayhap expecting to stay.
"My Lord if I may, an Assassin humbly requests that she be allowed to remain present for the glassing of the human planet earth." Interesting. She clearly thought that Tras was about to carry out mass murder on the single word of a Queen sworn to destroy humanity.
"Request is denied, Urien. We are not going to destroy Earth."
The Assassin now looked bemused. He fancied thoughts within her head pertaining to thinks like 'what?' and 'What in every conceivable hell is this Torra thinking?' He would have liked to learn the dutiful creature was capable of such thoughts, as this would likely ease his own conscience, although he was fairly certain self-doubt was irrelevant in this plight.
"Why?" The Quizal queried.
"The Queen gave a direct statement in a negotiation, which need I remind you takes all statements into account, and ensures that they are followed accordingly. Weilan." Tras turned to face the ever-pulsing Intejii Scientist, who was busily flapping his tentacles around a large holographic panel. "Power down weapons, shift fleet orbit ninety degrees Sol star Northward, homebound."
Urien shook her canine head in disagreement. He knew she had come a long way to grasp a well-earned prize, though a prize that would have to be denied under weight of pressing matters. He felt her pain keenly, but did not submit to impulse. "I am... sorry, Urien."
The Quizal shook her head, black, leathery skin perfect contrast to some parts of his armor.
"Do not fear for me, my Lord. I fear for your own safety, come time the Lady discovers your lack of obedience." With that, she turned heel and left, solemn atmosphere trailing in her wake.
Weilan drifted to his side, breath easygoing, muscles relaxed and in perfect control, his eye co-ordination obviously superior to Tras'Lok's own by many thousands of large numbers. "Do you think she's gone off to tell on us?"

Tras resisted an urge to tense his muscles, turning to face his comrade, hand grasping the hilt of his extinguished plasma sword, unmindful of the muscled tentacle that pushed it away. "Merely hope, we can." He said. "Belay last command and set course for Pluto, the furthest planetoid from what humanity calls sun."
Weilan bobbed once, representing an Intejii nod. "I hear and obey, Arms Master."

There likely wouldn't be much time once the first act of what would probably be perceived, as an act of mutiny, betrayal, or assassination was committed. He would have to act quickly, and most importantly create an illusion so elaborate that it could only be known that he'd acted alone. He couldn't walk up and politely ask 'My Lady, come and partake in a surgical procedure that's going to render you defenseless!'
She did not seem one to allow free speech easily; he would need to confront her in private, preferably with a crack squad of riflemen at his back.
Such tormented thoughts, he might have considered himself ready for seven consecutive large-scale battles, locked in an inescapable mental conflict, shielding himself from the labyrinthine recesses which meant his escape. Denying the very thing capable of saving him. How could he approach this dilemma with clear mind in heart when hairsbreadth movement meant death?
He turned to the main view screen, which was currently overlaying a bird's eye view of the ship's corridors on flat-out scale. That changed to a view of Sol's star, Sun, a burning crimson yellow flux, graying resonance shining like six billion lanterns set on placid lake. Solar flares lanced in desperate corona, seething hatred boiling to nature's raw, primal dominance. Tras enjoyed this view, despite whatever slight risk of his sight leaving him. Blindness was small among many prices to pay.
In all his more than goodly life, he'd never known any predicament that bothered him so... why!
His answer was taunting him, smacking his face and he could do nothing. Because you don't know how to solve it... That nagging mental voice jeered. Ha, ha, Warrior. Curse his birth for having no aptitude with scholarly art!

Weilan intruding, bulging mass floating to his side, puss-crusted, marble eyes in all. "Enjoying the view, Arms Master?" The Intejii reviled.
Eyes quiet and understanding, Tras'Lok nodded. "Yes, my Lord Weilan, I enjoy this view greatly."
"Good, then you can explain why there are no speeding asteroids to enhance its picture." Weilan was chuckling, eyes concealing well mirth hidden within.
Tras whipped his hand out, stopping it inches from contacting the scientist's face with brutal force, slight as the strength administered was, he could still collapse his friend's face in unintentionally.
Turning smartly, he faced the bridge's doors and put on the proudest, most uncaring physique he could muster. Deceptive, unworthy ret. His conscience scolded him.

The black clad maiden of darkness strode briskly onward, as if she owned the entire room, which she did. Anyone to dispute that fact was meticulously roasted into a fine powder. Her seductive emerald eyes flaked with silver sparkle, hammered into Tras's resolve as well as any chisel. She was looking at him with emotionless, calculating stone cold indifference. That gaze softened as he started to seek a deeper foothold, dragging him into the pit-
No! Anyone foolish enough to partake in that had never drawn breath again. Both of his amber tinted orbs suddenly found the patterns on the ceiling rather interesting. "My Lady." He greeted with soft submission, eyes spiking down to gaze at her black footwear. "Why have we turned course, Arms Master?" Shade demanded, fair-toned melodic voice singing.
"Earth has been destroyed, my Queen. We've directed our path toward the human planetoid of Pluto for celebrations." He replied stubbornly, without conspicuous mode.

"Do not think to play games with me, Arms Master!" The Queen insisted, eyes scanning, screening, slipping up and down his body, through his armor, passed his corded muscles, ears piercing with myriad pithy, smell more acute than a human dog's scouting, daring his mistakes to reveal their purpose!
He'd almost opened his mouth to speak, when Shade spoke again. "Very well, Arms Master, Notify the fleet, we will... celebrate our victory shortly."
Tras nodded, in vain as this was, since Shade merely turned and walked back through the bridge doors from which she'd come. Unknown to her, both Tras and Weilan let out the breath they'd been holding.
After some time, Tras spoke again. "You've heard what has been spoken, moderate our speed, maintain course. We will land on Pluto, and it's moon of Charon."
"Steady as she goes, my Lord." Weilan assured.

Rebirth - Tras'Lok/Weilan; Gallant Claw
Date: 1 February 2003, 11:16 pm

Resplendent- if Tras could scrounge his mind to formulate one word describing the sight he beheld as his magnate landing craft rested on Pluto's surface; this would have been his paramount choice. Now that he'd actually set foot on its icy landscape, he figured he should have chosen impossible. Remnants of failed human colonization attempts were scattered at regular intervals; some items deemed worthy shelters while others were little more than useless paperweights.
"I've set my eyes upon corpses with more taste than this." Weilan muttered. For a scientist, also taken into consideration one basing ideals off logic alone, he was remarkably good natured, and quite emotional, mayhap even going far enough to have some religious choice rammed into his character. Peculiar as he was, he was still Tras's friend, one of his only friends. Needless to say, he intended to keep it that way. Something due left caught his attention.

Shade was holding a small rock, however it seemed more like a crystal than anything else, eerie; misty-snow surface whipping her form and clouding it from view. What purpose she had for such an object he could only guess at, he knew that her means and rituals of being were simply too obscure or too well guarded to comprehend. She was an enigma, an ethereal spirit epitomizing flawlessness of body with simple, yet somehow complex thoughts daring to mix with clouding deceptions. Much similarity could he find in anything she dealt with, such as that pathetically inconspicuous rock. Tras believed such balances were better, left to faults in existence, non-sentient things based purely off needs to exist for everything else. Nothing could correct this pairing.
If vexed enough, Shade would tear his heart out and feed it to him.

He turned and faced Weilan, nodding left in a friendly, conversational gesture. His friend's eyes moved to follow, but his voice kept talking. "I hate this dreary ice cap." He squandered. "Its so... white, feels like an outer rim grave yard." Places you simply didn't want to be.
Tras clapped his companion on the crest of his head and jogged toward their campsite. Upon landing, each allotted space had promptly been divided into areas of best use, and in turn covered with prefab structures. Buildings much like tents in that they could be easily assembled for outdoor use. Weilan and Tras had camped together, keeping close circle to Shade, who'd set up a small energy hub close by. Time to learn what it's purpose contained.
He slipped on a patch of ice whence he topped one of many large snow hills scattered about, still managing to hold his resolute gaze on his monarch. Thankfully, there was no six-meter high dust cloud to announce his arrival. Tras felt that she somehow knew he was there anyway. Shade stopped barely two steps in front of her construct, and eyed it momentarily. He supposed this was what she considered last moment equipment checks, inadequate, as they seemed to be.
Her hands began to pick at the holographic numerals, which composed the hub's surface, bringing up different diagrams on a larger piece spaced above. He couldn't tell what these depicted at current distance, only resolving him to promise himself that he would take closer inspection later.

Shade seemed to be nodding, after several painful moments, the young woman strode away. Peculiar as things might seem, she chose the oddest path possible. An unstable looking patch away from the camp. Tras waited until he couldn't see her, then slid down from his hiding place and looked at her indistinguishable... power hub. It turned out to be a three-dimensional pinpoint tactical map of Pluto's general terrain, specifically, canyons not more than thirty meters away. He headed for them, hugging what little cover he found.
Shade was hauntingly difficult to follow, even when she wanted to be seen. She didn't seem to register his presence, and simply walked where anything might be able to attack and kill her in five seconds flat. Only he couldn't keep a bead on her steadily progressing figure long enough to aim correctly. An indication of what she naturally did. He envied such an instinct, such a competent skill.
He struggled after her with fresh respect in mind, recalling several events when he'd outwitted her mind and senses. She had been little more than six years of age. He had been over seventy times that. Of their sixty some mind games, he'd won two. Accomplishment enough, when you gander recent past.

In the distance now, her figure faded far and beyond, trailing on moonlight mist. That was... odd. He pursued, unwilling to loose sight of his quarry for such a long period of time. He cleared the odd angle and crested a rise. In plain view as he was, he tried to move. Something stalled him. The canyon walls shook with a lively thunder! The soils of Pluto shook, the ice caps began to melt and the rocks to fall!

Ka-Crack!

"Shade!" He exulted in wonder. Small boulders began to clash with unyielding mineral about him, some even going so far as to drive into his full body shields, which protected his atmospheric suit from being punctured. An equally protective web of fleshy tentacles surrounded him, preventing the word from even exiting his mouth as he was hauled back.
"Tras, are you alright?" The looming eyes floated over him.
"I'm fine, aid me, I must stand... Shade is alone."

Weilan's tone could have been sarcastic, but with the dust still clearing Tras had no way of knowing what it sounded like. "I'm afraid that's going to be quite impossible, my Lord." He'd almost asked why, when a fleshy apparatus poked his head up. His legs had been buried underneath authority knew how many tons of rubble. His shield was weakening, thankfully at a snail's pace.
"Follow her." He grimaced, before (thankfully) collapsing into unconscious rest.

The ecstatic Intejii bobbed up and down; floating over what holds his natural flux of gravity could claw onto. Unlike his friend, he needed not worry about rubble crunching underfoot. He did not have a heartbeat or, even breath when he did not want them. Over and done within seconds like a random flash flood, Weilan figured. Pluto was a most interesting climate zone of the universe. He might have continued to study it, had it not been that his new target was even more so interesting.
Rather involuntarily he shivered, pulsating physique staggering with every breath taken. "I hate... frigid temperatures."
Stones ahead sheared from their perch. She'd stopped. "You may reveal yourself, Weilan." He stepped out of his enclosing shadows, into plain starlight. With an insolent wave of her hand, he'd been tugged through his own atmospheric manipulations and left to float aimlessly close aside her feet.
"How long have you been following me Intejii?" No anger reflected on her tone?

"Not long, my Lady. Seconds at most." He replied truthfully. Dishonesty now would only buy him a ticket to an early grave, which needless to say he would rather not have. His fearful quiver was apparent even to him. Disgusted with himself, eyes would wander toward the Queen's-
"Nagh!"
Glittering silver sparkle, which always flaked the cruel beauty of those seductive emerald eyes flared to him now more than ever. "You dare follow me, ret!" Her voice clamped about his throat, choking off his air supply, his eyes bulged inches from her own, drilling into his soul...
"Your life hangs in the balance, Intejii. Pray thee answer Theta, mayhap you've chosen Zeta?" The ribald Queen sneered. "I prefer to toy with my prey, watch it suffer. How do you like your quarry, Intejii?"
He gagged on his own words, saliva filling his plushy throat.
"Weakling!" She snapped. "Follow my heel like the vermin you are."
He obeyed unquestioningly, having been dropped from considerable height; Weilan was in no mood to be resisting those invisible hands, which grasped him. There was no denying they were there, either. Humans had called the phenomenon... spell casting.

Shade lead, he followed. Paths crossing where neither wanted to go. He suspected she still had some use for him, otherwise he would currently be choking on his own heart. This seemed both comforting and disturbing; not many beings broke away from her dealings with whole form in mind.
"A scientist wishes to speak, Lady."
Eyes turned toward him, features delicate, aloof, with ethereal complement. Her scrutinizing gaze ate him, yawning through very maws of hellfire incarnate. Weilan stared right back, laughing death into reality as it smiled to him. He smiled back, though in less obvious manner. "Very well, Intejii." She allowed a small ammonia cloud the freedom her pressurized helmet provided. Humans were the only known creatures to carry ammonia in their breath. Some had gone so far (well out of earshot) as to call her human. He knew different. Human mammal species did not possess silver flecks inside their eyes.

"You had managed to locate my presence and call me to you, how?" This physic had perplexed him long enough. "I even went so far as to conceal my breath and heartbeat!"
She frowned. "Human canine creatures, when smelling gruel, are capable of locating and sectioning off every individual component within the smell's composition. Human warriors also use light amplification devices to gain sight about nightfall's domain. I do not need any such treatment. Yalan..." She seemed to choke on this word. There was emotion within her after all...
"The dead one had said that my vision merely compensates naturally to any changes in lighting extremes. As such my sense of hearing is attuned. I hear the very fibers of my atmospheric suit working about my body- their every sliding motion. I've grown accustomed to these things. None vex me any longer."

"This does not explain your-
"Human canine creatures, as I stated previous are good in their smelling domain, comfortable with an art. I am better. Whence they had failed I have perfected." Shade proclaimed with arrogant trace.
Weilan's conclusion drew in aside curious gander, which caressed her every feature. "You intend to tell me that you'd merely sniffed the air and learned of us both?"
"No. I simply listened, and heard the Arms Master's heartbeat. You were much more difficult to locate, however I could not resist attempting to smell. Even through the filters of this suit, your scent is rather distinctive."
"What sort of 'distinctive', my Lady?" He pried, now rather interested.
"Much akin to what humanity might call seafood, mingled with raw sewage. Simply putrid, Intejii... in such a close proximity as you currently are, the scent in itself begins to choke me. This statement naturally has seen fit to disregard the fact that your smell has come close to knocking me unconscious. Numerous times." He did not detect any hints of intended humor, only straightforward honesty. Nodding, not quite offended, he continued to grope at her ankles, sliding along with her progress as instructed.

Time passing, she'd paused in the epicenter of a large crater, which opened up its greedy mouth in all-consuming love for stars burning in distant space. Gesturing to him, she'd indicated a large press of heavy boulders. He was to move them. Without protest, Weilan maneuvered into position, and scooped up a pair of the slightly heavy minerals, tossing them aside.
He thought better of displaying any resolve hinting questioning her motives and ideals behind allowing him to perform the tasks resting before her. At this point he wasn't sure whether or not she would accept them as readily as she had the questions former.
"Stop." Shade commanded. He did so, drifting back toward her feet until she simply stepped onto his tentacles. An indication that he was no longer wanted.

Her hand brushed cleanly across the curved glass frames of... doors? There were doors here?
The glassy layers liquefied, and she stepped through. Amazed, he followed dutifully after, gazing in wonder toward his better, who seemed unaffected. In their wake those interesting doors solidified and formed an effective barrier to the atmospheric extremes.
"Intejii... there is an oxygen nitrogen composition here." Her voice echoed through the confines of her helmet. Weilan couldn't help but mark the resemblance between MJOLNIR armor and the suit she currently wore, with the exception of a perfectly clear visor, and violet plate coloration.
Little by little the pitch-black aura circulating the room was cut down as their suit-mounted lights spread about, twining through and dispelling any darkness.
Weilan floated, unconcerned as she released the pressure clamps of her suit and removed the helmet, setting it on what appeared to be an anti-gravity table of sorts. He could see her obviously nonchalant gaze as the helmet piece sank into some unknown storage area. Holographic displays erupted into shimmering glory about her form, twisting an unending multicolored web. Weilan resisted his urge to flee back where he'd come, eyes widening as gentle white glows illuminated spaces surrounding.

"Welcome, Reclaimer. I am 424 Gallant Claw, the designated guardian of Tactical Warstar Orion 02."

Rebirth - Shade; Mind Games?
Date: 1 March 2003, 12:57 am

Deep in outer territory claimed by neither Covenant nor Human or any race in between, where dying galaxies and ancient ruins lie, a sleek silver vessel had shimmered into existence, azure webs crackle and fuse about sleek chassis. Dancing in resonating pulsar, multicolored flux explodes and creates an effect of nuclear fusion. Technology had just formed a new star.

Inside the belly of the twenty-kilometer long dreadnought dubbed Burning Eternal, a slightly frustrated navigational technician reviewed his mainframe data, crimson eyes shattering as glass panes into new coloration every five seconds.
“Void-Lord sir, we’re dropping out.”

“Fold closure has a second, bringing main cores online.” An authoritative voice confirmed. Golden oculars gander pristine bridge space, closed within one at ease of station. Officers presently clothed for anything falling short of interspecies war were moving about and swiping holographic panels, one with robotics. Or so their stern military manner suggested.
“Give me any sensor readings you have, I want to know where we landed that jump.”
“Yes sir... inserting navigational data now, ETA on full core capacity, thirty seconds.” A pause followed this statement. “I’m getting some nasty spikes in the gate generator’s resonance.”
The first remained visibly concerned. “We’re on the fringe of the Silt Maw, that’s to be expected.”

“Right, here we go. Spectral fold initiated. Vector on Terra booster...mark.”

Long moments passed, each being eating the other through enhanced visual acuity, narrow eyes impaling luminous globe, globe engulfing narrow fronts shining silver emerald. This floating component waste emitted strange, somehow soothing sounds. Neither spoke for some time.
“Hello.” 424 Gallant Claw greeted.
Shade stared. This thing seemed interested in some way, perhaps there would be some use as of yet for such mechanical contraptions. Obviously it held vast amounts of useful knowledge pertaining to physics and universe law, else it would not have been able to speak her tongue.

“What are you cur?” She replied frowning, unsure how to react to this new development. There were many lights here, searing at her eyes in jubilant vexation. Pupils eased into unsettling slits, those akin to cat eyes or some other related thing. Gallant Claw resumed hovering mere inches from her, unmindful of those swirling vortexes, holographic numerals and letters.
“Why, I am 424 Gallant Claw!” He proclaimed.
“My patience wears thin, what manner of construct are you?”
“I’ve been designated 424 Gallant-

“Enough, you pathetic excuse for intelligence!”
The little robotic AI moved away, retreating several centimeters, slightly perplexed. Showing fear was natural to most living beings, they had survival instinct. When in dire straits the only thing one might concentrate on would be personal survival, muscles and nerves composing a physical shell would act of their own accord to evade whatever plight had fallen upon them.
This construct was cybernetic in nature, possibly containing brain matter traces. Indicating smells were certainly there, however no hints of flesh decay had been made apparent, which could only mean that it contained self-sustaining mechanisms. Unfortunately this also created an unwanted side effect. A social drone with multiple capabilities to annoy. It did not sleep; therefore it was nightmare incarnate.

Watching every mannerism it... he made was rather difficult. Most was simply inane mumbling or hovering with suppressed purpose. “I have angered her highness.” Gallant Claw remarked, stating facts, not questioning. Clever little mechanism, Shade considered shearing some of his external plating off.
Without any forewarning several beams split off from two holographic strands and spread across her suit, licking its surface and pulling the matter which held it together apart, which consequently turned the entire structure into a vaporous gas and floated it to the ceiling.
Instead of baring wonder or amazement, she chose anger’s path, toothed demon rearing its ugly head as if some majestic unicorn screaming thunder bang with every choice, pinprick red glow running miles to reach its destination.
Hers was much more, subtle... much more dangerous.

“You dare!” Voice stole clear menacing symphony, rebounding across the room with ease. Gallant Claw retaliated by sputtering out mixed curses and monotone strings. “I shall purge you at once!” Despite stuttering nature, the construct’s voice remained both calm and even, unlike her own voice, which had gladly packed itself with hatred and contempt. Electrical pulses closed about her body, dancing with vigor across her every curve. She could feel her own heart skipping several beats, causing her to bolt upright like some day-old corpse.
“Purge!” Shade roared. The magically induced supersonic wail was more than enough to crack Gallant Claw’s visual acuity. However it did not crack. Instead he was launched back through several holographic panels to land with a clanking thud near the Intejii. Suitable, vermin would attract vermin.

“You are quick to anger.” Gallant Claw remarked, ocular flashing. Shade understood. He was trying to draw her out so that he might exploit her weaknesses when angry, fuse her to his own purposes; clever little keeper. That was not going to happen, she would not allow it. Great amounts of effort were expended as she attempted to calm her beating heart, taking breaths slow and steady in nature.
“I shall not allow myself the indignity of being overcome, cur.”

The construct sifted toward her again. “Worry not, Lady. I merely protect this installation and its contents.”
Shade crouched now, hands resting on either knee, feeling the slick cloth of her robe with one, and the smooth flawless tones of skin composing her leg with the other. Metal-iron tingle filled her general proximity, as if she’d been used to supply some great fire. Only this change was more or less a fast acting chemical transformation.
Gay colors swarmed through her partially luminous eyes, taunting to no end. Shade did not like them, they were cheery and innocent, an opposite pole entirely, from true reality. They suggested what simply could not be through laws and mental physics. Despite this, she could see their use. “You shall protect me, construct.” Very useful indeed, she mused internally while speaking.

“Not in my programming.” Gallant Claw squawked.
“You lie to me now, truthful one. Protect this installation and its contents, truly.”
“For an outsider your usefulness to grammar is apparent.” He replied ignorantly.
“I am willing to reach compromise unto you, metallic one.” Shade persisted.

Apparently he was not knowledgeable in subterfuge or its branching arts; he’d unknowingly avoided the verbal trap by remaining completely devoid to its presence, as if this phrase had never reached his artificial connections, which served as ears. “I do not deal in guesses.” He pleasantly refused.

“Shall the honorable one wish to deal in certainty?” Eyes clear and purposeful, all consuming lanterns spewing thick mucky darkness.
“My provided intelligence allows me to comprehend such.”

“Having allowed your Queen to these holographic systems whence she bests you in games sound to those bearing mind proficiencies.” Wicked back stabbing smiles played across her face. “Dishonest, you have become.”

“Negative, Reclaimer. Should you defeat me as protocol states, I must allow you access to the console.”
Artificial as it was, the voice was almost heartwarming. Disarming. Deceptively so, she could not place any sort of finger on the answer. This worried her to some extent; however Shade was certainly confident that she could overcome any problems this construct set. “You lie, insolent cur.” She said, hinting malignance.
To this, Gallant Claw let loose an approximate laugh.

He was circling her now, bathing her features in white light. “My programming disallows that. Pick your fork of the pass codes.” Frown growing into an outright scowl now, she strode to the panels and allowed her hands to stream through them, little static jolts singing her hands. Singing her hands?

-Shouldering queer looking rifles... looks of resolute determination painted upon their war-masks as they cut down the Hari-Key with cruel efficiency. They promptly rushed down the corridor behind them, vanishing as abruptly as they had appeared. One stayed for a few moments, waiting long enough to yell to her in an odd accent, "Good luck, Spar-tans!" After having spoken, he too was gone, golden mane blowing; leaving behind the impression of haste and efficiency ...-

Gallant Claw’s ocular shone death’s head red in alarm, his floating facet sifting back toward his original position. “Odd, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” Shade could hear his insistent little lies, even through every inch of stalwart pain!

-"Eaetir, hurry up with that! I want that nuke armed pronto!"
"Sir, with all due respect, we can't arm it any faster!"
"Look, we know we won't make it if it doesn't arm within the next minute. Get your asses moving!”
The display on the warhead changed, and a small status light came up on the screen.
"Sir, it's up and running! This should give that Ascendant something to think about... -

For once, she actually screamed. The distraught shriek cut her pride as much as her incredibly sensitive ears, rebounding in woeful echo. Her tense form collapsed to its knees, allowing its soul no motor functions whatsoever as several billion pricks raked its nervous system, stunning and paralyzing. Eyes as cold as winter chill snapped shut in vice-grip, hands covering what facial senses they could. “What have you done to me?” This fearful cry in tandem with previous disgrace now doubled. She could hear no responses. She could see these images with crystal clarity, and nothing more.

-“Your races be damned for coming here, Yalan!” The warrior raged, ash-coal hue of his plasmatic blade, steaming eternal anger. “Leave my blood alone!” The jagged surfaces his Drakka war-mask laughed, taken to the shaping of a single timer wolf, eyes angered and defiant. Little else could express his true anger for this inconceivable mar.
“Do not fear humble one, your whelp shall be ten times and more what it is. I’ve found a donor.” The Torra’s voice was mocking and cheerful. He had won their little war.
“No curse is worth you, surrender my child!” -

Reality be damned, the pain shown here. Thought processes slow and meaningful, Shade’s face twisted into a raging thunderstorm. “Make this stop!” She cried aloud. “Make this stop, you venomous little snake!”
“Hold still.” Gallant Claw hummed.

- The warrior gasped in exhaustion, pain raking his every motion, his soul gone. His morale devastated. “No.” He denied, sobbing as his bloody tears smeared across his gloved hands. “No, my little Erosee... I’ve failed you too...” Self-pity could be heard underlying eat syllable, fingers clutching a small photographic image, him, and his wife who was holding their little Erosee. “Yalan.” His frustrated tone continued. “ You bastard!”-

Hot sensations burned across her vision, as a vicious gas filled her lungs, soothing, like chocolate, an aphrodisiac to her feline nature. All sounds and smells had disappeared. Her vision relaxed and grew blurry as the bands of muscle inside them ceased to function correctly. She was being injected with a sedative!
“Cowardly fool, cease this futile activity!”

“Increasing drug capacity.” Gallant Claw said. “Estimated systems function-
“Dare you betray-

Rebirth - To Biraak
Date: 3 April 2003, 4:24 AM

Bright little fairies swam in whirlpool concert as she opened her eyes. The room was dark, and her muscles hurt. Concentric rings, what she had entitled the holographic panels, were still humming their usual tone of mysticism.

One word forced itself down her throat with a bad aftertaste. Sedative...
Shaking off no small amount of discomforting feelings (which returned nonetheless) the now- slightly -renewed Queen pushed off a rather roughly set floor, standing full height. Her manner would allow no less. Weilan was gone, likely retreating whence the time come he realized no one rested to protect his cowardly visage. This place now appeared as any century old monument left unused and unfrequented without his presence. Dark, cold, lonely...

Shade took an experimental step to the left. Finding no nausea, she took a step to the right and moved forward, sliding her feet like a bird on water, motions carefully planned and executed with dignity, poise and of course, grace. She could see clearly now, for the most part. Her hands would again descend upon the holographic makings, merciless and without heed. Picking at the data for some time, she could resolve that this place was indeed developed for possible refugees returning from something called a 'great collapse.'
What was a great collapse?

A shining red light awoke her from the infinite world of daydreams, arrogantly flaunting vexation. "Align your visual perception here." Gallant Claw 'breathed' his confidence.
Quicker than an autumn cherry blossom she moved, hands guided by the force of gravity to do what the body had long intended, working in harmonious complement. Her hand slid back-

-and slapped the vulnerable locations of either temple, attempting to sooth the debilitating electrical pain, which sparked to life there like some greedy serpent. Her heartbeat had elevated sufficiently enough to call the entire exchange exercise. Cursing and spitting inwardly, she picked herself off the ground and gazed into that same luminous one-eyed monster known as a mechanical ocular. She had almost done it again.

Visions flashed before her eyes, taunting her every wish, kissing and caressing in the right places, an ethereal lover. For the moment her throat tightening, the inability to breath, these were the least of her worries, so transfixed was her attention.
"Your body does not adjust well to sedative treatment." If Shade's eyes could have narrowed at thus juncture, they surely would have done so, despite not quite hearing what the construct had said. It felt as if she was floating on air without the comforting weight of her robes as a guide, missing one critical part of her body.

The involuntary shivering was a clear indication as she'd ever seen one. "Utilize this." Gallant Claw spoke as a caring mother. Somehow, she felt that she could breathe again, as if she had been treated by some magical white hand and laid gently down. Indeed she had been laid down. The ceiling stared gloomily back at her from above, although she no longer felt the icy laugher of its composition. Each strand was massaging, warming and comforting. The garb she now wore had indeed been created with the comfort of its wearer in mind.
Shade allowed her forearm to slide inches from her face, moaning in quizzical thought. A black jumper hugged her form, though to a more modest degree than her previous wear. Intricate metallic-gold weaving had been set about the neck and wrist areas.
Pushing upward off her hands, she stomped the floor with either foot, creating a sturdy thud. Perfect support.

Gallant Claw tilted his form. "You approve, symmetrical creature?" He said.
Her face contorted into another mask of anger. What had this thing done?
Immediately she set to the task of goring into the holographic panels throughout the area, grimly set on one thing and one thing alone. The data she could collect from here was extensive, although only some of it registered to her true purpose. Some of it bothered her.
She did not like it... the feeling of this situation. Shade knew what to do with things that she did not like.
The Daughter of Covenant focused what little reserves of concentrated energy still remaining within her power, and threw every ounce of indomitable will into a gargantuan column of liquid black flame.
So great was it's radius of effect, she could no longer see.

The Blackness which now shrouded her vision...

It could not have been a grievously extensive sum from the time she'd been rendered unconscious to waking. Shade remained unmoving, acute hearing sliding across the world to detect any number of faint sounds. These in turn grew less faint, just as the overpowering scents of six Doomharrow Covenant assailed her sensitive nose.
She hauled herself upward at once, much to the startled dismay on the faces of a Jackal, two grunts, Tras'Lok, and that despicable twerp Weilan. As usual, Tras regarded her with a cool air, completely confident that he would die rather slowly either way, should any mishaps occur, why bother not to accept it? She could respect this trait, which alone caused her to turn to the Intejii, Weilan. "What did you do to me, Intejii?" Shade interrogated. There was an obvious, acrid fear in both his eyes and pores.

"My Lady?" He queried, genuinely confused. So you wished me to believe, ret.
She was as cold as the expressionless mask her face wore, though she did not yield to the shivers which threatened to rake her body again. Pride would not be stolen, even as multiple goose bumps pushed their way atop her skin. Taking no leave, she set her weight onto the floor, without the benefit of the support, which those formerly worn boots provided. Managing to catch her body's weight was easy, once she'd realized what had happened to the boots, along with the rest of the clothing.
"Who?" This single word sliding from her lips in an open accusation.

The Jackal let loose a horrendous, wailing death cry as she dropped to the floor, blood-pouring fountain from her neck. Obviously the Jackal had tried to deflect the hand which bore down on its throat. Unfortunately - perhaps fortunately for Shade - It had not been fast enough. The Daughter of Covenant had just begun rolling the Jackal's life around her hand, marveling in the complexity of the liquid. She'd drawn blood as her hand returned from the blow, which had crushed its windpipe.
An electric tingle cracked down her spine and intensified into a sharp pain, to which she acknowledged with an equally sharp and menacing growl. "No one touches my body. No one."
Her form melted through the entryway, and she found herself moving in a brisk manner down the corridor in the most aimless way possible as her robes knitted together in spontaneous reaction, hugging her body once again. It felt good to be wearing such pristine garments again.

Despite the qualm she'd held; her demeanor remained somewhat cool. There was still something there, hidden within the effects of boundless information... Yet to be discovered. Shade knew the effects it could possibly invoke; however these revelations were the least of her worries. Blood still coated both fist and mind. She soon gazed down into grated blackness. A drain... sensing movement, many mechanisms clicked their pace, humming finesse; birthing proper variables and allowing a warm falling of precious water to cascade ever downward in gravity's flow from the showerhead.
In moments it had dampened her hair, clouding her vision as it collected over her eyes. Instinctively, she blinked and swiped it out, under account that such things had never been pleasant. Shade too, felt her robes recede, dissolving as the vapor of her suit did when the monitor had taken it away. The Monitor...

A place for refugees. She was no refugee. Clearly, his ilk had been created... by those who long passed called themselves Forerunner. Over the course of centuries, she supposed his systems programming had degraded and been rendered faulty. 'Refugee' was a broad term. What he had thought to be a creature of his maker, had merely been her, and those who called themselves her cohorts. Assuming these newcomers to be some form of refugee, due to their lack of having named a home planet. Having no history enclosed within their data banks whatsoever other than a few Journals kept by both officers and enlisted he'd naturally attempted to be helpful to those regarded as betters, royalty.

Gallant Claw had then accessed what retrievable data he could, assuming that after this great collapse, some of his maker's memories were lost and fragmented, perhaps due to some biological weapon?
Regardless, she supposed that when she'd activated the banks, the monitor triggered a release mechanism that caused a data surge directed not to some random machinery, but directly into her body. He directed them based of blood composition, or rather in her case, the closest thing to the file he kept on record. The data itself would be those memories that she (perhaps even those of what he thought her birth parents or relatives) had lost. He was trying to revive a dead empire.

She could see his motive, so what was the common definition of Great Collapse, or Great Fall?
Eyes narrowing in deep contemplation, she massaged the last of any revolting substance away, tasting a truly fresh sense with an all too comfortable exhale. It had been a long time since she'd felt this secure. Things were going well. The construct set into her nervous system had begun to relent slightly. Motions were faster, much more coordinated. A fluidity to make water cry out in astonishment!

Feeling was a peculiar thing too. In itself water was just as remarkable as anything else when it hugged her body. It touched her lips, and this she knew tasted as nothing and felt like liquid. Nothing enormously special, Shade foresaw. Why had she been so interested in water?
With antagonistic glares, she angled in on a single droplet, smooth, flawless. Performing with great poise as it sped into oblivion and back again. Around and around in a constant spiral of decline. The water flow relented, cut at its source. Shade felt the last remnants, these chosen few as they clung to the beauty of her face, arms and legs. Unwilling to die. One last climbed down the center of her forehead, between her eyes. Skipped off her nose. Vast armies shattered into few, then nothing. Down into the drain, into dark night.
Pieces, tired and beaten in these lowest forms, these wasting depths. Come change, they begun to evaporate. Evaporate into air. Change. The world was different now. This lone cadre who faced the greater force; this droplet at the razor-sharp point of her black, black fingernail. It clung as any dying child might to the protection of its mother, to the seductive, false protection she provided, until it dropped with dignity. Dropped with dignity, poise, grace. Fluidity and fair into the enticing lair of her throat to become part of her. Part of every species in the known universe. Part of legends, and ghosts of past.

This, Shade confided. This is what happened to them...
This was the collapsing of the Forerunner.

Stepping into the corridor was easy; her robes had already materialized, and she'd pushed back into common black leather sandals. Keeping calm façade was not quite as simple as it might have seemed, with an array of tense, excited, trembling muscles to deal with. Normally things wouldn't be so eccentric. This time more than any, the Daughter of Covenant felt, was a rare exception. Several warriors stopped cold when they let fall their gazes to her face, if any held courage enough to do so.

Not often - never - had they seen her with such an unkempt hairstyle, black hair matted and stringy. She'd not bothered to comb it, an odd thing to them. Shade ignored this, making best pace to the bridge.
Some mumbled quietly to themselves, content with their self-centered paths, however wary of their Queen stalking each and every corridor. One brave little Hari-Key actually managed to hold eye contact before blinking off. This sight would haunt his dreams tonight.
However they felt, Shade was not driven by fear, but want. Lust.
A civilization as self-sufficient as the Forerunner didn't bring about self-decline. An external power must have begun that work. A power more powerful than the most powerful species ever known to exist. She intended to hold it. First, it must be located. Mustering what was quite possibly her best facial mask, she summoned Tras'Lok. "My Lady," He greeted dryly. "the situation on Biraak grows delicate, our brethren need-

"Had I indicated that you might speak?" It was not the Arms Master's place to speak before his better. She could have reminded him of this, would have, had there not been more interesting matters to attend to. "You recovered the data from Pluto's depths?" Tras nodded, relieved, as he handed her a holographic pad. "The Biraak situation shall be resolved. Set a course, in the meantime I shall study the data."
Confident that her orders would be followed to the letter, Shade departed for her quarters.

Rebirth - To Biraak
Date: 30 April 2003, 3:50 AM

Hey, folks. Thought you might enjoy some sort of formatting or something for our series so far, since we probably haven't gotten it right yet Here's a list of what we, the not so punctual 'MM' have managed to put together.

Rebirth - Shadow's Prologue - Parts 01 to 03
Rebirth - Tras'Lok; Small Deception
Rebirth - Tras'Lok/Weilan; Gallant Claw
Rebirth - Shade; Mind Games?

(More to come soon, excluding this one of course.)




RCE: Uzumri - Shade's Quarters
Course ETA 0004 Hours / 0072 Hours remaining to re-Entry


Her way was easily paved by the ornate thick doors, which lead into her quarters. First she passed her common room, larger by far than any so-called mainstream prophet's dwelling. There were tapestries, many of them. A soft-flowing fountain, tropical birds, and harsh cryptic whispers that might very well be called music; she knew what their true purpose was. Cleverly woven behind each beat were various spell-song wards. These would work with brutal efficiency to repel any unwanted guests. Something learned from experience of sorts. Light tread carried her across countless stepping stones (the number changed every ten minutes) as the water level rose and fell, either consuming; or revealing, simply inching by slight units. None of the stuff went so far as to touch her garments or skin, something she approved of immensely. Tras'Lok's holographic pad shimmered as the surrounding temperatures changed.
All conclusions accounted for her quarters were among those that many photographers would like to attain a visual of, the kind that royal artisans aspired to create.
Regulars, the slim amount of dock preparation staff, which the Doomharrow kept in close circle, knew very well where to place that odd loose soil packet. However her intentions did not include menial labor. It began to rain... a side effect of 'natural terra-formation' in an artificial gravity environment, realism.

Shade navigated the data; oblivious to the atmosphere, ambient wildlife and the physics surrounding it all as she seated atop a rock set under an Orrinna tree. Frowning, she analyzed what was about with smell and ear. Nothing could compare with nature's work, the little Shade inside concluded. Quietly the young woman bisected what she could, scrolling through countless headings and paragraphs until something caught her eye.

Agniashan Segrazu

She tapped it with the vertex of her fingernail.
Cackling with eerie delight, the data pad scrawled a giant glowing sight apparatus into her field of vision. Immediately she threw it. Threw the pad very, very hard. It landed with a satisfying crack, damaged very little despite this. The pad slid into configuration, and morphed cleanly into nothing less that 424 Gallant Claw. With a more than hearty chuckle, he proclaimed his immediate superiority. "I am a genius." He sized up his new Reclaimer, who was presently displaying her prowess with inappropriate verbs and nouns. A creature quick to temper, nonetheless a creature categorized as the most potentially capable specimen he had ever scanned. The Reclaimer spun about and spat a string of foreign words.

Acting off mechanical precision Gallant Claw barked his disapproval as her carefully shaped ice spear sliced through the air where he had been only moments before, frost parting the air "Lunas Cravaen Dural, Hecr!" She roared, vocal teetering on demonic. In hasty response, he seemed to flutter his aperture, floating in range of yet another salvo of deadly energies. This time, they did not come. Of all the unintelligent things he might have done, all the most cliché responses, the Monitor simply chuckled again. "Initiate preparedness protocols, Reclaimer. This action will likely cause disorienting side effects."

Shade was ready. The volatile wave struck her like a solid wall, and rolled around a barrier of its own as she uttered whisper-thin replies. Her mental barrier had been made reality by instinctive reaction, however no matter how hard she tried; it simply wouldn't stretch to the capacity that she needed. The pulse of 424 Gallant Claw struck her full on, followed in quick succession by several glowing metallic darts pulsing with binary codes, little ones and zeros. But Shade was ready. "Attasu Havthos Calten!" Her hand moved as if to whip some random card, fingers halting when they finally pointed in the path of still menacing threats. Folded molecule thin wires enclosed each one, sprouting out with arachnid foray. Frowning, Shade watched three glowing, binary clasping, Monitor-fired darts fall; contact her dwelling floor and liquefy, casting a rotten scent into her face. Slowly, Sloooooooooooooowly she turned to face the mechanical upstart.
Gallant Claw burst forth, all slate gray majesty. He was going to crack her skull open! Any traces of rational logic forgotten, she raised her left knee, pivoted off her right foot and felt the electric tingle building in intensity as her heel whipped out and cracked off his smooth, seamless carapace.
"Oh." Was all he managed to mumble, detecting, but untouched by the agonized scream that passed her lips as fluctuating violet-azure 'lightning' rippled across her body and felled her to the floor, seizing up her nervous system. Shade could not move. Could not cease the scream, which was presently ripping her vocal chords apart. Meanwhile, three glowing, binary-coated Monitor-fired darts picked themselves up off the floor, reassembled their molecules, and dove down her throat. Shade was not conscious enough to feel them enter. The first thinned out, becoming no smaller than a proton, and drove toward her spine. The second and third both repeated identical gestures, only these moved for her brain. Gallant Claw hovered inches over her shoulders, scanning the walls. His signatures came back positive, concluding that his initial hypothesis had been correct. These walls were soundproof. Perfect! His aperture flickered once again as his Reclaimer convulsed. It was beginning now; the drugs were taking effect.

Her dreams were joyrides, filmy with clarity and precision. She had never really dreamed as such. Ever...
They were grand adventures with every slumbering moment, but of every moment there was one eternity. One single dashing of all enjoyment which might have come to pass. He was in all of them, a green-clad knight with a shining golden-white aura, a face like the midsummer star in daytime sky. Light meant to dispel what darkness she represented. He failed, naturally. Everyone did. If there was certainty in anything, it was that she always won. Always!
His arm grew with each passing second, grasping for her, clothing, a toe, an ankle, anything with which he might pull her down into the depths of his shining goodly world. His free hand held a rifle, solid matte-black, rugged, an all-terrain ballistic menace. Shade could do nothing to avoid the inevitable death, the 7.62mm trio sliced toward her at what seemed to be sonic speed. She traced their every motion, tried to move. Could not move, could imagine his self-satisfied smirk. He knew those rounds would hit their mark.
He was forgetting the most critical rule. Shade always won. Calmly enough she focused her mind, concentrated on the bullets and whispered something arcane. They burst into flame. They kept coming. Hesitant but not undaunted, she whispered something else arcane, stopping them cold in their tracks!
But...
They kept coming.

Yet again, she knew fear, for another round, she faced it, took a step back. She had no control, however she would not display any weakness in face of her plight. Rewarded for her efforts, she began to gain confidence as the rounds slowed, stalled and dropped. A scornful grin replaced her open-mouthed awe. He was too far below her to even cause any inkling of harm! And she had feared him so?
A commoner's emotion! She spat on the apparition below, correcting her momentary fault.
Footfalls interrupted her victory. She turned to face this new threat. None could stand in her way, because Shade always won. The coldly shimmering projectile struck her hard in the shoulder, spraying forth a distinctive, fluid white misty spray. Her blood! Grunting in an effort to stall what was obviously preordained, she fell from her perch, the massive, horned head of a shadowed dragon-

-and toward the waiting arms of her mortal enemy. The apparition below!
From above he watched, with serene golden eyes that flowed like midnight fog into watery blue graves. There was no expression, only a momentary spark of memory; he had seen this many times, the failure of his enemy, it seemed. A still heated sidearm was in his hand.
Screaming in rage she whipped about 180 degrees; her scream dying in her throat, choked by overwhelming dread. She'd been winded. But this fall wasn't going to stop the Daughter of Covenant, the one left to history as a merciless tyrant. Shade knitted an intricate pattern in the air and shouted to whatever greater authority might be listening. Her descent slowed, but she still fell. Faster and faster! But she... always won. So... why was she screaming?
She knew the answer even before the babble left her mind, because she was losing.
Deep in trance her mind detected unwanted activity. It knew what message to send. Shade received it. The poison was killing her.
"No!" She wouldn't let this happen. "Wake up!" She commanded her helpless, unconscious body. The cybernetic, armor encased apparition below regarded his new prey with some enthusiasm.
"WAKE UP AND FIGHT!"


RCE: Uzumri - Course ETA 0003 Hours / 0072 Hours remaining to re-Entry


Oblivious to any unordinary happenings, Uzumri the Mighty, invincible flagship of the Doomharrow war fleets 'felt' the cold recesses of hard vacuum upon his thickly armored skeleton. He did not see the rift that he so clumsily passed. The wave 'hurt' his armor to no small degree. Penetrated it, as if it was some intangible antitank shell. He lost all senses for five milliseconds. His internal chronometer devices had just been frozen. One of his many denizens triggered a systems diagnostic.


RCE: Uzumri - Control Center (Bridge)
Course ETA 0003 Hours (- 05 Milliseconds) / 0072 Hours remaining to re-Entry


Tras'Lok inhaled, however slight his motion was, it was still detectable. Barely...
He had taken note of the Uzumri's power flicker and quickly ordered a diagnostic. Should the main core fail they would all have a few precious fractions of a second to attempt to figure out what the cause of their death was about to be.
His limbs in fresh dressings, Weilan returned an 'all systems normal.'
Tras glanced at his chronometer, the common term for timepiece. It was frozen. Weilan had apparently come to the same conclusion, since he was the first to begin speaking again. "My Lord, the only logical conclusion would be to reset our chronometers and continue. Since we cannot be certain until we procure proper evidence, we should forge on and attempt to ascertain what stage the Biraak situation has reached." Sighing, the warrior within accepted his friend's logic. "Maintain course. Doubtless everyone else has also learned of our situation by now." He replied.
Chronometers simultaneously freezing in a vessel completely impervious to electromagnetic pulse... there could only be so many possibilities.


RCE: Uzumri - Shade's Quarters
Course ETA 0003 Hours (- 010 Seconds) / 0072 Hours remaining to re-Entry


Her motion might as well have been a nuclear explosion. Precision sifted her body upward, onto its knees. Chaos coughed up clotted blood; muscles expelled green bile from her lungs. Weakness, more weakness shown!
There were yet things to do; better things than berating herself for what was best. She knew who, or more appropriately what, had the answer she wanted. Quietly Shade stood, and leveled her gaze. "How might I ensure that this beast does not harm me?" She whispered.
Quietly, Gallant Claw's impassive sight component flickered, breaking into being a hologram.

"A green bar," - "An Index." Gallant Claw corrected. - "How would such things aid me, cur?" Shade knew only that she needed answers, for if the sputtering robotic annoyance dared cross her once again, she told herself that she would personally incinerate every last proton. No matter her thoughts, her attention remained on the object which so gladly provided an answer. He still believed her to be one of his refugees it seemed. Another hologram, a ring... a HALO. A Halo that faded away, and was replaced with stars. Stars... whereupon it could be seen the birth of a planet from beginning to end of infancy. After some time, and much silent thinking, She understood.
An alarm flared shrill wail and went silent. A section of the vessel's hull folded out to reveal a large panoramic window. Her quarters had been turned into a viewing gallery. All eight rooms. The view might have been vomit inducing to some. Not so for her, she enjoyed the illusionary sense of freedom. Below her, spinning in its usual manner, was Biraak, not unlike now molten Earth. She had ordered Tras to dispose of it. Unlike many Shade knew; Tras'Lok was a faithful warrior in her mind. Not even a pang of regret crossed her as she regarded the sphere below, always in motion. It really did look like Earth. Perhaps this was why she did not like the planet. Regardless, there was more work to be done. She turned and stole her way into the corridor, glancing up at one of the many chronometers. She quickened her pace.
The others needed to be alerted of the sudden changing of events.

Still floating in Shade's quarters, Gallant Claw muttered something. "Hope, Reclaimer. Round one to me, my pretty little puppet." Wasting no more of his precious time on speech, he followed in her wake.

Shadow's Chapter
Date: 20 May 2003, 11:06 PM

Rebirth - Shadow's Chapter 1

NOTE: the "::"s are simply indications that the Covenant are speaking in their native language and the words are a translation of their chatter.

*THUMP*

Shadow awoke to the deep resounding ground pound, wary of his still injured position. He kept his eyes shut tightly, hoping not to give away the fact that he was awake and aware that something was near him. Seeing how there was not a second ground shake, he slowly opened his eyes, only to have his windows met with the white light of the surrounding area. It took him but a second for his eyes to respond, and the blinding light slowly faded into the golden grasses and the deep blue mountains surrounding him. The winds blew silently, causing the golden grasses to wave quickly in the cool touch of the air. He slowly looked up, trying once again to arise himself from his laying position and survey the area. But he failed miserably, only to be met with extreme pain of his shattered legs. He collapsed back on the ground, having lost all hope of surviving the coming time of immobilization.

The ground shook underneath him again. But this time it was a constant rumble underneath his body. The ground shook his legs, causing an undying pain, but he ignored the stabbing throes in his legs in favor of finding out what was causing the rumbling. He raised his head a little, and seeing nothing, he slammed his own head into the ground...ear first. He listened closely to the ground thumps. They certainly had creatures of different sizes, and none of them had the same weight or leg speed of humans. They must be Covenant. There were two very large armies to his left and to his right. Was it a Covenant Civil War? There were so many different running signatures sprinting through his mind that he had never heard before. He had no time to ponder what these new running signatures were, or why the Covenant were still on the Earth, for explosions began to come from the ground around him. The Covenant tanks were already lobbing their plasma shells at each other. One came frightening close to him, but it did nothing but make him witness some uncomfortable heat. Unfortunately though, the grunts, jackals and elites from both sides instantly collided around him. Hundreds upon hundreds of blue and green beams were exchanged on both sides, sending bodies flying everywhere. A few of the aliens noticed his presence in the area, but didn't find him a threat and quickly dismissed him in favor of the more dangerous foes at hand. Shadow gathered enough energy to pull his hand out from his side and to his face.

"EVA, are you there? Tell me you're functioning."

He waited for a few seconds, but was greeted with only the blasts and explosions from the background. EVA was silent, and he was truly alone in this unknown place. Before he could think of something else to do in an attempt to get him away from the ravaging battle, a plasma grenade landed a few feet from him. He knew that it was far enough away to do nothing but give him minor burns, but he knew that it could send him flying through the air into some other danger. And that was exactly what it did. The grenade began to crack as blue beams of light came from within the small ball. Within a second, the beams were replaced with blue smoke and energy, and Shadow was blown back, landing head first at the feet of a noticing Covenant elite who in turn was quickly cut down in his lack of response to the surrounding battle. Shadow didn't feel the blood splatter from the elite above him, for he was unconscious. Unknown to him, the battle continued to rage on for another 10 minutes before dying down to silence. The victorious Covenant force slowly searched the mounds of dead bodies for survivors on both sides. Undoubtedly, they came upon the near lifeless body of the only human in the battle. The grunt that found him turned around and went screaming to his leading elite officers, who then turned to their commanding officers. The two commanders quickly responded and ran to the scene, wondering if the human had any information that they could extract from them.

"::Do you think the human will have any information?::"
"::I don't know. The grunt has told us that he was dressed in some strange civilian clothing. If this is so, then the chances of him helping us are quite low::"

When they arrived there, they were horrified at what they saw. Though Shadow's beaten figure was not nearly imposing, they both took one step back from the unconscious human.

"::This can't be possible!! Its him! The one that destroyed the entire First Covenant invasion force!::"

The elites were of course not there to witness Shadow's feat of destruction of the Covenant invasion force, as they were many a generation after. But they had read books and looked at many pictures of the one human that had ruined their first attempt at destroying the human race. The image of the man was branded in their minds.

"::But that was years ago! He was supposed to have died in the battle! That and even if he did survive, he should be dead from old age!::"
"::What should we do?::"
"::I...I don't know. We should keep him alive. Perhaps if we help him survive from his situation, perhaps he'll help us.::"
"::Perhaps. But the humans are our enemies. We have sworn to destroy all human life. We should really exterminate him.::"

The first elite leaned down and picked up the battered body and they walked off to return to their ground base.


Shadow awoke on a hard cold ground. Again, he kept his eyes closed tight to ensure not give away the fact that he was awake. He listened for anything that would tell him of his location and his situation. He heard the soft hum of Covenant generators. Judging by the cold hard floor beneath him, he was in a jail cell. He listened yet again, carefully picking up bits and pieces of info that would tell him more about his surroundings. He heard the high-pitched zing of a security camera above him. He didn't know exactly where, but he knew that it was far too distant for him to reach and deactivate. He heard the humming of the electrical jail bars in front of him. He leaned back slightly and knew that there was a wall behind him. So three walls surrounded him and the electrical bars were in front of him...perhaps about 8 feet or so. He couldn't be sure because the humming was different from what he was used to, and what he was trained to listen to. The Covenant must have made new technology passes quite quickly. But it only served to contribute to his confusion about everything. He slowly opened his eyes, seeing that there was nothing else to think about or to discover. Everything was as he had expected, except the camera above him was foreign to him. Even though he had infiltrated countless Covenant bases, he had never encountered such a device. It was quite odd to him.

All of a sudden, the beams of energy turned off in front of him. He normally would have attempted to escape, but his legs were still crushed. In walked in a golden Covenant elite, apparently the leader of the facility that he was imprisoned in. He was flanked by two other elites, each with strange devices, which looked like shocking weapons. Well, at least they hadn't come to execute him yet, though it seemed that torture was on its way. He looked up, his scraggly hair blocking much of his vision. He didn't need to look, for golden elites were but commonplace to him. The armor looked odd to him...changed in some indecipherable way. New technology again, perhaps.

"::Human, your face is well known to our race. But what confuses me is how you have managed to live this long.::"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"::Human, if you had survived the great destruction of our invasion force, you would be hundreds of years old by now.::"
"::But I just destroyed the invasion forces before you found my body at the battlefield. It couldn't have been more than a day or so when you found me.::"
"::Impossible human. But your voice rings of truth. Perhaps forces greater than we can explain are at work here. I will not contest why you're here. But you will help us, or you will die.::"
"I'm already dead," Shadow replied snidely.

The frustrated golden elite, with nothing to say in response, nodded to the other two elites at his side. They nodded in return, and moved in. As the shocking devices headed towards him, he grabbed one of them from the side, ripped it from the elite's clenched hands, opened his palm to let it spin, flipped in a 180 degree spin and pushed it back at the elite, shocking him into a stupor. The other quickly moved in though, and everything faded to black.

Rebirth - Shadow's Chapter 2 - Revelation
Date: 29 May 2003, 12:01 AM

NOTES: I apologize for my horrible work in the last Rebirth submission, I hope this one will fit better to your expectations. As with the last one, and with all upcoming works from Shadow's point of view, the "::" will indicate Covenant language being spoken. If you were here for my first two series, you would know that I was known for my endless action battles and fight scenes. My writing style has somewhat changed, perhaps matured, and those type of scenes will no longer be a major part of the Rebirth series.

Shadow awoke once more, but decided that to hide his awareness would probably do nothing for him anyway. He slowly opened his eyes and a pale blue ceiling greeted him. He looked to his right and then to his left. To his right was a small table with various Covenant medical tools, while on the left where some surgical bladed weapons that he had never seen before. Had he been tortured and had the memory of the event escaped his thoughts? Perhaps. But what purpose would they have to make him forget about the pains they put him through? Such doubts that had been brought forth made him doubt the possibility of torture. He looked forward, sitting up to do so. It was then that he noticed an enormous difference in his physical condition. His legs did not feel the extreme pain that they were once in. To the contrary of a natural extinct of relief, it made him more fearful than anything. Had they cut his legs off? He couldn't feel anything in his legs! Frantically, he whipped off the thin white blanket that lay on his body. He felt a sudden coldness on his body, but he ignored it in search for the answer for the lack of pain in his legs. To his surprise, he did see legs...and they were not shattered and pointed in all different directions. They were repaired. Perfectly...perhaps even beyond that standard. But why? He had so many questions, and no one to ask them to. Then the thought came to his mind. He quickly raised his right arm...but the device that contained EVA's data chip was gone. Where the hell was it? He began another frantic search for her, but to no avail. He leaned back in his bed. He was still very weak, and his confusion made him more lost and scared than anything. Fear was generally something that he didn't bother with, something he had learned to resist...he was always prepared for the physical pain of battle, but not the mental pain of being lost or thoroughly confused. Such felt him smaller than anything in the world. But he had to fix that...and find out what was going on.

He decided to find out for himself. If his legs were better, then he could ditch this place - after finding some weapons. He sat up again and jumped from the bed. But his legs immediately collapsed from underneath him and he fell on all fours.

::The numbness and the lack of function will disappear within a few days, human::

Shadow quickly looked up, and was greeted by the golden elite that had spoken with him while he was in the jail cell. He had so many questions to ask the elite, but he only managed to utter one.

"Why?"
::Because we need you and your skills. We need you to assassinate a Covenant military enemy::
"So in this time, whenever it is, you fight your own race? Is it a civil war?"
::More or less. A renegade named Shade leads the enemy. She is our main target, but she possesses powers beyond imagination. We need you to kill her::
"What makes you think I would help a Covenant soldier?"
::Because we will kill you if you don't, not that death bothers you. I do know of your morality during the time of the destruction of our first invasion forces, and that you made a sudden move to an honorable end. You have long been a respected human, as your honor and bravery has surpassed even many of our greatest soldiers. If this is so, then you'll respect my generosity in by both enhancing your body and letting you live by doing this simple task::
"Its not that easy. I don't kill for money, even for paying back those had saved my life anymore."
::This Shade is pure evil, human. If you had any true honor within you, you would be compelled to stop her before she wreaks havoc on both your race and ours. You're the only person that can accomplish this::

Shadow thought for a few seconds. He had sworn to himself that he would never kill another person for any reason other than self-defense from then on. But his honor also needed to respect the fact that the Covenant commander had saved his life. He was torn between his options. But in reality, he knew he had only one true choice, and the Covenant commander knew it as well.

"Alright. I'll do it."
____________________________________________________________

Two days later...

"I'm going to need my rail gun, a MA5B human assault rifle, and my grappling pistol. All of this along with the other equipment that you found me with."
::It will be done, human. But the MA5B assault rifle is quite old, and will be hard to procure.::
"Then find me the modern equivalent."
::It will be done.::
"And my clothes?"
::They will be mended.::

Shadow nodded in response. In the two days since his awakening to his recovery, and the time he had made the deal, he had grown a certain respect to the Covenant commander and the entire Covenant group. They had a certain way doing things, and very strict caste system that didn't appeal to him at all. But the way they did things...how they did them, all revolved around honor and pride. It was something that his kin needed to learn some of. Despite the fact that he should have been killing these aliens, and that he should be avenging the deaths of all the people that they had killed, he couldn't bring himself to do it. They had taken him in...in a way, and he was grateful to them for healing him rather than casting him aside, or killing him. Of course it was for their own betterment and advancement, but he couldn't help but view it as generosity and kindness. He still held a bit of aloofness towards the aliens, but he realized that the Covenant felt the losses of war as well as the humans. To bring upon wrath upon them because they had killed humans would be hypocritical. He would have to kill his own race for slaughtering countless Covenant soldiers as well. Once again, life had put him in a great moral dilemma. Just fucking wonderful.

He had realized that he wasn't on Earth after all. Somehow a certain force or "magic" had placed him in future. Somehow as well, his weapons were transported with him, and had arrived with him in the future at the battlefield. They had repaired all the devices and the weapons, as they were smashed as he made the fall back in his own time. He also had learned that they had not only healed his entire body, and mended his shattered legs, they had given him very small implants throughout his body to significantly boost his abilities. Their technology was far superior to that of those that were used for the Spartans, and they claimed that his abilities were now up to par with theirs, despite the fact that his life was not at all in danger form the minute implants. He hated anything artificial in his body, and at first, he despised his new enhancements. But he soon realized that it was a part of his existence now, and they would surely help him survive in the future. EVA was back as well. They had repaired the vital systems, and she was overall fully functional, though she was suspicious of her own proper functions. She was apprehensive, in light of the possibility that they had programmed a certain security function into her line code. It was actually a very real possibility, and to heed her advice to be wary of her actions was probably a good idea. Even though almost everything he had during his own time was still with him now, he still couldn't help but feel somewhat odd. Something felt out of place. It was as if his transplant into this time had caused a ripple effect throughout the universe. He didn't know. But he was going to find answers. And Shade would probably have them.

::Human::
"What."
::There is a small Covenant city outside of our base. It is controlled by our forces, and they will be notified of our newfound alliance::
"And?"
::Well, we believe that Shade's flagship is located in orbit somewhere above this planet. If you hope to get to her, you need to get to her ship somehow. We hear that she is personally on this planet somewhere. If you can find some way of following her undetected, then perhaps you have a chance at finding her ship::
"And what after that?"
::That is for you to discover human. We made this deal because you are who you are::
"Fair enough."
::Contact will be limited. We will know if you're successful. And we will know if you're not successful. The need to contact us is therefore superfluous::
"Then when I kill her, I won't be returning. You've already paid more than your bounty for her death."
::Goodbye. The briefing information has been downloaded to your console, as well as all our information on your target and her closest advisors. The next time we meet, we'll probably have our gun sights on each other::
"Don't count on it."

Shadow slowly turned around after they made their somewhat awkward farewell. He slowly walked through the blue-lit hallways, the automatic doors doing a quick scan of his body signature, ensuring that he was the human that was allowed to pass through the facility. He continued through the hallway, loading in his newfound assault rifle and his sniper rifle in the meantime. He walked to the main doors, and they swung wide open, revealing a snow-covered ground in front of him. The numerous flakes flooded into the facility, melting as they passed through the threshold of the base and the outside environment. In the distance, he could see the faint outline of the small Covenant inhabited city where he was supposed to find Shade and kill her. He had no intent of following her all the way to her capital ship. He was going to kill her right then and there in the city. He had both the sniper rifle and the assault rifle in each of his hands, their cold metallic bodies floating at his sides as they hung from his hands. He snapped each over his shoulder, one at a time, and gripped his hands into a fist. Walking out in the cold white world made him feel more scared and frightened than ever of the future that he was now in...but the fear vanished along with the hum of the Covenant facility as its doors swung close behind him, locking him out.

Rebirth - Shadow's Chapter 3 - Entrance
Date: 31 May 2003, 11:41 PM

NOTE: It seems that some of you really want the action to come up, so I'll tell you this: the action and intensity will only improve from here on in.

Shadow wandered slowly through the worn dirt pathway that lay before him. It was obviously a pathway to the city, as it curved ominously towards the enormous dark Covenant mass that beheld his eyes. He might as well get a start on the elimination of the Shade. She seemed like an interesting, yet extremely evil character from what the Covenant commander had told him. But of course, the truth is never completely objective when told from one side in a war. It would be like asking a mouse if a hawk was a decent and wholesome creature. The answer could be answered as easily as anything. But the nagging doubt that perhaps such an opinion was nothing but an impartial statement could not leave his mind. It was the driving reason for his decision to assassinate this Shade. More than once had he listened to the ideas of another, and realized that they served to be true facts rather than brash unrealistic ideas of others. Of course, he had plenty of experiences the other way. But if Shade was such an evil creature, then destroying her before she could wreath all of space in the smoke of destruction. It would be wise to strike first before Shade's strike could land its damage to the fullest. But to counter this, if Shade was nothing but a military and political opponent of the Covenant commander who had convinced him to reinstate his abandonment of his career as an assassin, he would simply be used as a pawn to destroy someone largely innocent. For all he knew, Shade could be on the good and righteous side and he would be eliminating the very hope of this future that had fallen upon this universe. It seemed for every excuse he had to hunt down and destroy this creature, there was one for him not to commit such an act. But one loose end reminded him of why he made the decision to kill Shade. They had saved his life. Whether he was being used a pawn, and whether the act itself was good or not were all variables that he could not control. What he could control was keep the honor in every way he could. And that included repaying the debts that he owed to those that helped him survive the destruction of life.

Enough of the pondering and the internal discussion of the morality of his acts. It was time that he find this Shade and eliminate her with swiftness and efficiency...just as he always had done his job. If he faltered just a second to think about what he was doing during the heat of his act, he would never succeed in the destruction of Shade. He began to walk down the path, his feet making almost an inaudible sound as they crunched down upon the snow that had built up upon the road. All the while, he looked to the Covenant city with a baneful vision...a place of some nasty events to come ahead. How he would be able to wander the streets without the Covenant absolutely slaughtering him was beyond him, but he never thought that far ahead of time anyway. He would simply think on his feet when the need came to him. He had always acted in that manner in the past, and it had never failed him before. He wasn't about to lose his nerve and try to think ahead. If one would try to do that, then one would try to continue with the plan, and the surrounding environment becomes something of less importance. And details that should not be missed would be completely ignored because of one's intent on moving in with the plan. Without a plan, everything is as clear as nature's purest of waters. He would see everything, hear everything, notice everything, and act upon everything.

By the time he had finished walking through the path, night was beginning to take hold of the sky. He wasn't sure how long the nights and days were on this planet, but he hoped that the night would last at least a few hours before daylight would rear its vociferous head once again. The path ended in a cleverly hidden tunnel ahead of him. On this side of the path were two projector cloak generators that effectively hid the view of the pathway by projecting an image of their surroundings and blend them along with the real surroundings to make an image of a constant wall of forest trees. From his side, it was obvious that the images were fake simply because he would see the light shooting out from the cloak projectors in order to create the imagery. It seemed pretty clever, but he assumed something to that effect would have been created in the future to hide the existence of a base as a standard. He slowly walked through the images, and realized that he was now on another road that clearly led straight to the city. He looked behind him, and he saw nothing but endless trees in front of him. Hopefully all the electronics that were with him were now repaired, for he would need one of them now. He looked inside his bag and quickly searched through it. Listening devices, a small number of grenades, visual devices, camera disrupters, numerous hacking equipment pieces, and of course...his earphone for listening to both music and the radio contacts while going on to complete his mission. At the very bottom of the pack was the device that he used for communications, and for displaying and speaking with EVA. The damaged parts that had prevented him from speaking to the AI when he had first awoken in the Covenant homebase, but they claimed that they were able to completely repair her before he set off. He quickly snatched it out of the bag, and examined it. The blastmarks and the wear on the device seemed to be fluent with what he expected. There weren't any obvious alien devices attached to it or any blatant modifications made to it. EVA had been operating nominally when he was back at the base, but he was always extremely cautious when other people meddled with his equipment. Next to the main screen were numerous buttons, and a switch. He flicked it up, and dozens of lights were immediately brought to life and danced all over the device like fireflies trapped to its surface. A second later, EVA popped up on the holoprojecter, smiling at him.

"What took you so long to get down to this point?"
"Ponderings."
"Ponderings? I didn't think anything went off inside that barbaric head of yours."
"Shut up."
"Hey, you HAVE done some idiotic things in the past. I believe it merits your stupidity."
"I believe that comment just merited me turning you back off."
"You love my company, whether you admit it or not. Besides, you need me to guide you on this road to get to that Covenant city."

Shadow didn't respond to EVA's last comment, but it obvious enough that he was going to let her stay active, for many reasons. Deactivating her would only make her that much more annoying when he needed her at later point. He didn't want to have to deal with that, as he already had enough mental stress on the upcoming battle that was going to occur. He turned back to the projection that he had just walked out of, and placed a small tracking device on the ground right next to it. He shoveled some snow over it in order to cover its visual from the casual passerby. He stood back up and looked to EVA, who was "floating" on her back in her holo-projection.

"Activate it." He commanded.
"Done."
"Where do we go now then?"
"Right, down that road. You'll need to hurry though."
"Why is that?"
"Because they'll have searchlights up and the gates closed and guarded by the time the night comes to greet you."
"Why the security?"
"In case you didn't know, the Covenant factions are at war here. Of course they'll garrison a city and fortify it from enemies."
"Right. So how do you suggest I infiltrate the city without getting burned?"
"Just walk in."
"Just walk in? Have they fried your logic circuits?"
"No. I will take care of the rest."
"Whatever."

He didn't know how she knew so much information at this point. He had just activated her just a second ago. He guessed that she had already hacked through the Covenant information databases and extracted all information and had deciphered all Covenant communication channels. She probably knew more than he would ever need to know about this city. He was a bit uneasy about her handling the entire situation herself because of the fact that she had been handled by the Covenant engineers and they could have done anything to her to fry her logistics and change her logical and complex thoughts into nothing more than idiocy. But he was willing to take the chance. She would have at least notified him if she suspected that they had meddled with her circuits, though they could have adjusted her to the point that she couldn't even conjure up the ability to do that. Doubts began to fill his mind like water rushing into a leaking ship. But he quickly flushed those ideas away. He needed to have trust in someone. Considering the lack of trust he had in his own judgment recently, he would need to have someone to rely on. EVA seemed to be the only candidate.

He didn't know how far the city was, but he estimated that it was about 2 miles. He could sprint that long without getting tired, and he didn't want to take any chances with the daylight. With that fact in light, he began a full spring down the road, hoping that no Covenant transportation vehicles would come speeding by and notice his present along the road. He continued in a full sprint throughout those two miles, looking at nothing but what was ahead of him. There wasn't much look at around him anyway. Just limitless alien trees on both sides of his vision. It was quite chilly, and his short-sleeved flannel shirt wouldn't do much to take the bite out of the cold, and his t-shirt already had enough holes to allow the cold right through to his skin. The icy death of the winter here was beginning to stab at him, and make running more difficult, but he would have to continue on to the city before he would resolve to stop.

After about 4 minutes of a full sprint he had landed himself right in front of the gates at the city. The doors were shut nice and tight, and there were two guards at the top, monitoring the events in front of them.

"EVA. Do you see something wrong here?"
"No."
"Look again. The damn gates are sealed nicely, and the guards are standing there already."
"I can handle it. Hold on just a second. Run when I say so."
"Whatever."

He watched carefully and suddenly the guards began sprinting across the wall to the station that stood atop the side of the wall to the left of the gates. They entered the station, and had apparently left their posts for some odd reason. Then the gates slid open in a strong grinding sound.

"Wait."

He watched again, and saw two rather slight movements on the front of the wall. They were two automatic gun turrets attached to the wall. A second later, they slumped over, as if deactivated.

"Go."

He didn't bother to respond in words. He quickly jumped up and sprinted through the behemoth gates. As soon as he was through, the gates began closing behind him. He looked around him, and saw a bustling city full of Covenant soldiers, civilians, and...drunks. It was funny how every culture had its beer and alcohol of sorts. Lights littered the city even more profoundly than New York. Everything seems far more sleek, natural, and round than the square building and vehicles that he found himself among in New York. It was an entirely different feel. Still the urban experience seemed to still render itself here somehow, even past all the differences between the human and Covenant cities. Covenant military vehicles dotted the huge mass of civilian ships that flew around the multiple levels of Covenant roads. He looked up and realized that the roads went up to 10 levels before ending. That made one very large city. Not quite as large as New York, but definitely very large for a city that looked so very small from where he was at the Covenant base. If any of those military soldiers got a look at him, he would be done for. What was he thinking? If ANY Covenant person saw him, he would be in a shitload of trouble. He'd have to act quickly, and find a hidden area until darkness took the city.

"Where can I hide until nightfall?"
"Already a step ahead of you. There is a derelict building only a block from here. You can use the alleyway over there to get yourself to that building. Though some incompetent Covenant bums still live there, you can find yourself some recluse at room ERE - 33."
"That's an odd room number."
"Hey, I'm here to get you there, not analyze why its there and what the number means. Though I could probably do that for you if you wanted."
"I don't."

He breathed heavy once and made a full sprint to the alleyway and jogged through it as soon as he passed the threshold from main street to alley, looking up and around him to ensure that there wasn't anyone else hiding out in the alleyway from the city. The host of alleyways were truly one enormous maze, with turnoffs and forks at nearly every point in the back. But fortunately EVA had a map displayed in front of him on his comms device. It took him only a few seconds to find the building and get to the room. It didn't seem too much different from your general rundown place, though the dirt on the walls and the garbage around the building was arguably worse than the kind you would find at a human bum building. He quickly entered the room, and locked the door behind him. It was then that he realized that he didn't have any food. He would only last a few days until he died of dehydration or starvation. He would either have to finish the mission in that time, or find a place that sold liquid and food that he could digest.

"So, oh brave hero, what do we do now?"
"We find the local bar. We'll search there."
"How do you know that there's a bar here?"
"I saw it five blocks down."
"Really? It must have missed my sensors."
"You know, you're really worrying me. You seem to be acting odd lately."
"Don't worry about it."
"Whatever. I'm going to get some rest now. I haven't slept in weeks."

"No. I will take care of the rest."
"Whatever."

Rebirth - Shadow's Chapter 4 - Bar Fight
Date: 3 June 2003, 2:11 AM

A bright light filled Shadow's thoughts, his emotions, and his sight. It blinded him only for a second, something of a mystical shroud. The light slowly faded away in front of him, to reveal his somewhat awkward position. Underneath him was and entire building, what seemed to be a Church. In front of him was a shrouded creature, what he took to be an interpretation of Shade, holding up a cross. Plastered onto it, with blood dripping down in immense amounts was Geb, his eyes wide open...accusing and sorrowful. To his right were all his friends: Az, Jan, Cal, and even Kroeger. They simply stared at him...some sad, others with anger. A second later, they began cursing at him, and pointing at Geb's torn and withered body on the cross. Their voices were replete with anger and accusations towards him, though they were nothing but faded screams in his mind. They were indecipherably soft enough that he couldn't discern the words, yet loud enough to hurt him. Shade was smiling a great, big...evil...sinister smile. She was nothing of a physical entity, but rather just something of a ghastly spirit with the eyes of a demon. To his left, he heard the cocking of a gun. He jerked his head to the sound; only to be met with a hailstorm of bullets tearing through his body, creating endless wounds and exit wounds. Blood flew out of his body like some gruesome shower as he turned his attention to his assailants. The Spartans stood there, their emotionless masks preventing any thought on their position of the situation. He stared out at everyone, the warm feeling of his red life force leaving him as intense as ever, before falling backwards off the edge of the roof. Spinning down endlessly to a red abyss, he looked up to see once again the accusing eyes of Shade, Geb and all the others. He screamed out, with both fear and regret. Blackness then took him.

He sat up; the feeling of ground beneath him a strange feeling after falling through a bottomless blackness. The cold, hard floor hit him with an alarming sense of reality as he looked about him. He was in the one room Covenant apartment building that he had taken refuge in. His eyes were wide in immense fright, as his head jerked around him, looking for complete assurance that the previous events that had conspired before were but thoughts in a nightmare. But somehow, the lurid dream felt strangely real. The bullets felt as if they were truly tearing through his flesh, and the stares were beyond accusing. They were downright hateful. A sense of guilt began to rush down his back, as he knew exactly what it was all about. He was the one to put Geb and the others through that one last stand for humanity against the Covenant invasion. He was the one that led Geb to his death. He was the one that blindly brought them to their never-ending sadness. He felt despicable. He felt...worthless. Despite the recent thoughts, he knew what he had to do, and what he thought of himself as a man was nothing in the way of his physical capabilities. He had to find Shade, and kill her. Somehow, it seemed as if she was the pedestal of all of the hate and sadness that sunk in his mind. It couldn't have been, for she played no part in the actions that had so far united in the past...but she seemed to be the fault of the nightmare nonetheless. Even though he couldn't help but think as such, logic kicked in and told him that the nightmare was only a reproduction of his own mind's guilt in the entire situation. He would have to set it aside for now.

"It took you a while for you to wake up. I was about to get you up myself."
"What?"
"Its night Shadow, and you need to find this Shade."
"I know what I need to find."
"I've been able to gather some information while you were slumbering. Apparently your sleep wasn't exactly pleasant."
"I don't even want to ask how you knew. What do we have on this Shade?"
"She's apparently a Covenant rebel. There are multiple accounts of strange occurrences and deaths on her part or within her vicinity. Most of them have gone unquestioned by her staff, though it seems she possesses some form of magic ability that surpasses the Covenant knowledge and understanding. She leads a small naval fleet, which I've tracked down to be in orbit over this very planet."
"Interesting. What else?"
"I have a few images of her. Most of any documents of her have been hacked, destroyed, or stolen. Most likely the work of her own forces in an attempt to eliminate any way to trace or reach her."

The images showed up in front of him, bright luminous light combinations that shocked even his well adjusting eyes. There were mostly low quality, taken either by security cameras, or those built into long-range sniper riflescopes. Either way, they were enough to allow him to pick her out from the rest of the crowd. She certainly didn't seem threatening at all. But looks were often deceiving, as he had learned many times in his past encounters with enemies.

"Well, how do I find her? This city is at large as New York."
"Well, I was able to hack a radio transmission about a Covenant lieutenant named Tras'Lok, who apparently is a right-hand man to this Shade. He is in this city somewhere. I have been able to find numerous 'police' video recordings that involved this Tras en route to a local bar."
"Video recordings?"
"Apparently this city has officers who like to listen to their suspects before arresting him to ensure his guiltiness."
"With him as a rebel leader, he's certainly high on their list of suspects. I'm sure they've been tracking him down for some time. It means that I'll have a hell of a time getting to this guy."
"The police have not been able to identify him as anything yet, so we have a window of time to find him, extract the information on Shade, and set out before we step anywhere near the city police."
"Alright."

With that, Shadow strapped in his sniper rifle and his assault rifle to the straps that hung over his shoulders. He lifted his grappling pistol and his traditional pistol and placed them both in holsters at his thighs. He finished it all off by lifting the black mask, made completely from a simple length of thin cloth, up from the bottom of his neck to cover his face and his identity. The loose streams of the paper thin fabric fell about three quarters down his back and were riddled with tears and bullet holes. He stepped out the door, took a look each way, and quickly jogged down the dirtied hall, down the stairs, and out to the surprisingly clean air of the city. It seemed that the energy in this city was far cleaner than anything found in the human cities. In many ways, Shadow envied the environmental responsibility and technological advances that the Covenant had made. They were in many ways far more perfect than a human could ever hope to be. At night, it seemed the streets were relatively empty, and only a small number of night active places throughout the city gleamed with neon colored lights. Society was much more favorable to the day life than the night-life that was found in the human cities. It was a very noticeable difference, though Shadow wasn't going to complain at all. This made his mission far easier. The bar was supposedly three blocks down, and Eva had marked the waypoints towards it on his arm communicator. She projected a larger version of herself behind him, floating in the air and looking around.

"It's quiet."
"I'm not bitching about it. It makes things far easier."
________________________________________________________________________

The scene was rather cliche, it seemed. Night had spread its leathery wings and determined its flight safe for all to see, the glittering gems which clung to motherly embrace. Not that any of the denizens who called the city home were poetic. The air was cold, and obviously tempers were irritable. Not so with Arkathen's Pub; here music seemed to radiate like the light of some lantern on a sea vessel's prow. Quizal, Torra and Hari-Key in all mingled as any old friend might. None paid any attention to those not quite within their respective conversations. At least, not until the doors opened to reveal a shaft of moonlight. Those hadn't opened in over twenty-four hours. As the doors swung open, an ominous beam of white moonlight flooded into the room, lighting the doorway with a luminous brightness that hadn't been witnessed by the patrons in hours. All heads turned quickly in response to the rare opening of the doors, only to stare in disbelief at the one that was standing there in silhouette. A few made glances towards each other, but none made a move to attack this human. Draped in pure black clothing, his figure made a strong, and threatening contrast to the bright moonlight of the sky...almost as if he was something of a demon ghost. He had been wandering the city for a few hours, getting a bearing on the recent happenings and searching for the bar. He was certainly the center of attention as of now. But that's not what he wanted. Of course, what reactionary response could he expect when he was but one human in a city of thousands of Covenant? The silence was unanimous. The music had stopped dead, and all previous figures currently allowed their eyes to slide into a state of nothing more than what could be called transfixed. Frowns deepened. Trigger fingers suddenly became... itchy. Not that any of them were military, but they might as well have been with the small armory each appeared to be packing gods knew where. Luminous eyes locked with doors, clawed fingers lifted free stun rods, fuel-rods, pistols, even the occasional two meter long metal pole. Untouched by the occurrences, one creature in the corner, who despite sitting completely rigid appeared stooped. Serenity, a picture of what it was among races meant for grand war. His tainted silver-black armor was a poor contrast with the violet wastelands upon which he rested. One gauntleted hand seemed dead atop the table. The other concealed in the various intricate black depths woven about. He slid his gaze across the surface of the table, and closed his eyes once more, though strength gathered in his legs and allowed him to rise. None broke the deadlock silence. Not that it mattered. Perplexed, the Torra scanned the crowd, attempting to ascertain the source of this oddity over the backs of both the simple-minded Hunters and the others of his kind, which he towered over by means of physical build.

One elite made the mistake of making the first move in the tense standoff. With speed, the soldier lifted his plasma rifle in a quick motion towards Shadow's head. With even quicker speed, a loud *bang* was sounded. Within less than a moment of the first gunshot, five more reverberated. Blue and purple blood was flung all over the surrounding patrons. A cloud of smoke emitted from each shot had surrounded the area in a dense blur of confusion, fit with the smell of fresh blood. As the smoke slowly cleared, it became apparent that the human was gone from the situation. The victim was the Covenant soldier that had attempted the first shot. Five holes in his chest, and a very long knife through his skull left the others in a bewildered and frightened state. In the dark corner, in the back of the room stood the human, smiling and watching the confusion that had ensued. He was glad that there was such poor lighting in the broken down pub, as it certainly worked to his great advantage. He looked in front of him, and saw the black armored elite that he had noticed only a moment before the action had occurred.

"I see that you didn't bring up your weapon as the others did."

The elite remained silent, standing aside the table with little more than a calm nod.

"Your point has been taken, Master human."

The elite's eyes glanced both left and right, screening his general area for any signs of something... specific. His ears were still ringing with the effects of the weapons fire previously displayed. His nose still tingled with the scent of the odd combination of smells. It certainly hadn't been a 'normal' human weapon, this he knew straight off through the fact that the rounds had continued on and killed another patron for each shot taken. That left six dead. Not the most impressive thing Tras'Lok had ever seen, but certainly one of the more 'odd' occurrences. Humans had not been seen for some time, not by general standards. He clasped his hands behind his back and spread his legs shoulder length, in the equivalent of parade rest, a human warrior's stance of ease. They knew this creature from somewhere; this he could tell by the mutterings and glances directed around the room.

"Was it him?" asked one of the many patrons.
"I think it was." Responded another.

Tras resumed the silent vigil, tapping something beneath the wrist guard of his armor, and sliding his tongue along the roof of his mouth until it contacted something of a cool, crystalline surface, which promptly dissolved once its task was done.

"Take a seat."
"I'll stand thank you."
"I thought you might." The elite remarked dryly, resting in the chair with a not-so-military bearing.

Though his air was proud, it maintained a relaxed feel. Shadow found the corner where the two walls met, and he leaned back in relaxation. He knew that the Covenant soldiers wouldn't find him for quite some time, as the entire place was so darkly lit. That and they had the implications that he had already made his escape. The fools. In any case, he knew that this elite that he spoke to was not a threat as of now. He was...calm, composed. Not angry. Likewise, the elite probably felt similar sense ease between the two. He hunched down in his little corner, rubbing the nozzle of his pistol with his shirt. He looked around the bar again and saw that the bodies were being taken out, while the rest returned to their normal position. A small group of elites took it upon themselves to take a search outside to find the human and kill him. Too bad they'd be searching all night.

"So, why not shoot at me?"

The Torra regarded his find with an amused glint under his eyes, breathing even and guided carefully. His voice was like the grating of nails on a chalkboard, coupled with the feeling of the one actually doing the grating, yet it somehow possessed a smooth, mellifluous quality.

"Currently, I do not seem to hold claim to an energy weapon."

He remained silent for those passing moments, tapping the surface of the table before him with one clawed finger.

"My statement clean through aquarian lips to you; I thought you were standing."

Tras's eyes took the opportunity to note the weapon being produced from under the shirt of the other, though he gave no indication of knowing it was there, he was certain the human knew that he knew. He didn't know HOW he knew that he knew, but he knew. The shadows about the pair were indeed dim, but that didn't stop his eyes from probing the darkness with trained professionalism. Shadow smiled slightly at the thought of a Covenant soldier not possessing a weapon. Perhaps a possibility. But the excuse in of it was quite weak. He knew very well that the soldier would have at least responded with an alert movement of some type, most likely standing up. But this one didn't even seem to care of his arrival in the pub. Meanwhile, the others had rushed to his throat. It was curious, but he would not push it any farther. He smiled again as the Covenant soldier made his first comment.

"I am standing, just up against a wall. Yet, it is still standing."

He knew that this elite was probing his image, looking for any details that would give him clues about who the human was. He didn't give a care. He would do so as well if he was that elite. In any case, he needed to get down to business. Time was most likely not on his side. He didn't know if he could trust one as this elite, but in a room of frantic hostiles, he seemed to be the most likely candidate as of now. It seemed very obvious that this would perhaps be the lieutenant that he was searching for. The others seemed to be nothing more than bumbling fools who did not realize the situation nearly enough to even begin to comprehend it. But this one was aware of everything about him, a sense of authority stood around him as well.

"Actually what you're doing is generally called leaning," the Torra corrected, scraping one of the many curved spikes atop his gauntled to the chain of the other as it passed over top.

He took a silent whiff of the human's scent, much like the Lady herself might have. He could not truly detect anything, but it was true that his nose simply wasn't meant for the task, and this he knew well. At the mention of her name, an internal spike of alertness shot to the surface. Almost. Externally he remained as impassive as he ever could. A quick search of the room located the various assassins and bounty hunters in the area, some wielding carefully concealed weapons, which had been directed toward the human.

"Now what would a... creature like yourself want with one of those good for nothing militant types?"

The words were actually half-truthful in Tras's mind. Which passed for the truth, and thus he could tell the half lie without breaking apart his honor or otherwise undermining himself. There were a great many things he might see to, but those could be put aside. He found the conversation itself rather interesting. Shadow nodded at the Covenant elite's response. He would have argued the fact further, as leaning as a part of standing was quite a controversial factor no matter how insignificant. The elite was quite sharp to have caught that in the first place, it gave him a sense of respect for him. Shadow looked closely at the elite as he responded: there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. The tone...had changed; yet he couldn't pinpoint it. He would leave it alone for now.

"Well I...hold on."

Shadow held his ear as if he was listening to an earpiece radio, but he was really listening. He heard the metallic clack of a weapon. He didn't know its origin. Probably a weapon far ahead of his time. He quickly looked up, and saw that he was targeted. Four of them. He had very little time. Within that very moment, plasma bullets and various other energy blasted headed towards his position, slamming into the corner, and ripping the walls to nothing more than shreds. The fire continued on for just a few more seconds before they were silenced. The patrons and crowds in the pub immediately jumped up in response, searching for the cause of the uproar. Shadow, meanwhile, was already behind the assassins, waiting again. He had lost his knife in the first bout with the inhabitants, but he didn't need it. Four bullets: four split skulls in less than 2 seconds. Blood had exploded all over the pub once again, and the dried blood of the first bout was now reinvigorated with the newly spilt life source. Before there was even a reaction, he was gone again...in the darkness of the pub once more. Tras'Lok continued to watch impassively, not slighted in the least by the volume of weapons fire directed his way, he continued to regard the human as if he had never moved, eyes locked.

"Impressive. Clumsy. Impressive nonetheless."

Shadow nodded to the elite's direction. He knew that the elite would not know his position, or even be able to see such a gesture, but he felt that it was necessary nonetheless. He watched as what was left of the patrons tended to the now either headless or half headless victims, while the rest poured out of the pub...thoroughly convinced that they were taking chances with their lives by staying in there. All except the bartender disappeared...even the bodies, having been dragged out by those that had looked for any signs of life in the limp carcasses.

"I knew that the name took your attention. What is she to you?"

Shadow looked around once more, realizing that the bartender was still at his "post", searching around for him and in such a tense mood that he would have been likely to explode any minute. He stepped out from his dark recluse and looked towards the bartender only for a second to ensure that he was nothing but scared stiff. He didn't want to be shot in the back while speaking to the interesting figure that sat before him. He slowly walked over past the frightened bartender and to the table that Tras was still sitting in, still a stoic as before. He slowly walked back, rubbing the nozzle of his gun once more, this time with much less interest, and much more interest on this soldier. The Elite shook his head, taking the time to breathe a hearty sigh before allowing his gaze to fall back onto the one resting before him.

"Who would wish to know my stance in this matter?"

Tras replied in what he believed to be a snide manner, he wasn't all that used to being crooked or otherwise untrustworthy in any way, thus his stumbling manner in this matter. What he was certain of was that he needed to pad carefully around this nest in order to allow it an effective play. His eyes screened the bartender, who was busily cleaning a row of mugs. He was pretending not to hear... good. Shadow took note that this elite certainly knew something of this person, or at least put up a front to the point to make one believe so. Either way, he needed to push the matter a bit further, or risk having nothing after coming out of the bar. Though he was no fan of pacifism, he respected life just as much as the next man, and to have killed those four elites with nearly no purpose would prove to be both a waste and a dishonor. To sacrifice a few for the good of the better goal, which in of itself was to destroy an evil and possibly save numerous lives, was well worth it to him. But to kill those with the intention to do such an act, but never pull it off would simply be a waste. The question was quite straightforward, though it implied that he explain himself further. He need not do so though.

"Me."

Tras'Lok allowed a slight smile to cross his features, there and gone in an instant, the passing wind on some randomly sunny day. He rapped the table for a few moments, making it seem as if he was in deep consideration of a point, or purposely lagging so that his buddy might draw a weapon and shoot the newly entering man in the back of the head. Instead, he merely took the opportunity to slide into an even straighter sense of attention. He could tell the man, but then again he might not. Either way something was bound to happen - to both parties - and Tras'Lok would not have any more blood on his hands than was absolutely necessary.

"My advice to you, Lord human, is to draw free of this matter entirely. The name Shade will haunt your dreams every waking moment, taunt you as it taunts me."

Shadow listened carefully to the elite's first words. But as he always did, one ear was spent on the ensuing conversation, and the other was occupied with his surroundings, lest any danger present itself. And that it might. He heard the light creaking of the doors as they opened. Though he displayed no notice that he was aware of such an event, he took careful note, and to pay careful attention to the newly entering creature, whoever it may be. He might have turned and shot the creature, but he had enough pointless bloodshed already. As it was, the other four deaths were quite excessive just for a bit of information. Life was worth more than that.

"My life is a nightmare beyond your wildest dreams. I don't need your preaching."
"You don't want it, but you would be wise to admit that you need it."
"It is not for you to give."
"It's mine and I gift it to whom I like."
"My life is my own, and it is not something you have a right to change. This is not for my own well-being elite, it is for higher things."
"Very well. Would you like to see this...Shade of yours? Open your eyes, human..."

The holographic pad resting in his hand slipped atop the table. The elite was methodical in this, tapping a series of buttons on the pad.

"Clear and wide, see with all that you have to sense... sight... smell... taste... your hearing...I do not wish to become another...target. It will be there and gone in moments. Are you ready?"

Shadow listened carefully, but with an eyebrow raised. This elite was truly a strange one. No matter. If this is what it would require for him to gain the information, then so be it. He decided to heed the elite's calls, and he tried to clear his mind of all but the device. In a very uncharacteristic response, Shadow affirmed the elite's question.

"Yes."

Tras broke off in a flurry of naturally complementing adrenaline rushes, eyes wide, ears barely closed, yet still able to catch the audible THUD as the grenade hit the floor. With every ounce of speed and agility he possessed, able to rival that of even the legendary Spartans, he was out the door and in the night, the traces of the explosion such a flashbang created still in his ears. The bright light and the sound would clearly be enough to disorient the human, and if not that the bruises and scratches that came with being in such a close proximity to the device. Over the table, rather on it had been left the holographic pad, one word imprinted on its surface.

'Uzumri'.

A blinding light immediately made impact with Shadow...rendering all of his senses useless...save for touch. The luminous light immediately blinded and deafened him. In a quick reaction, he grasped his grappling pistol, and pointed at what he perceived to be up. He didn't know at this point, as the flashbang had disoriented him. In any case, he shot the thing right through the roof, and allowed himself to be shot up as it detracted again. He shoved his feet forward in what seemed to be the same direction, and he made a loud 'CRACK' as his feet made contact with the roof and broke through it. He shot right up through into the cold night sky to use the momentum of the pistol's pull to throw himself into a flip a land on one knee atop the roof; holding his eyes.

"That was some answer."

Rebirth - Shadow's Chapter 5 - Impossible Infiltration
Date: 25 June 2003, 9:49 PM

"So what the hell do I do now?"
"Why are you asking me? You're the one that screwed up. You should have known that something like that was coming. Your respect for the soldier clouded the reality that he didn't give a shit about you."
"Whatever. It seems that I'll need to find that Uzumri. I'm guessing that it's a starship."
"Hold on...your genius hypothesis was absolutely correct."
"Shit. There goes the whole 'kill Shade before she gets out of the city' strategy. I don't even have the coordinates or anything on this thing. Chances are, you won't find anything either with the kind of rebel that Shade seems to be so far. Even her lieutenant can successfully play mind games with me."
"Well, you're right about that first one, and probably the second one as well. I can't find anything on the Uzumri's location or even its specs. I HAVE found a coordinate where we can find the coordinates."
"Just point."

The semi-transparent figure lifted her arm slowly, her head down in a somewhat meditating position. She was without a doubt searching for the exact location of their destination. Her arm slowly moved to the left, and stopped right on front of a wall in the alley that they were in.

"What the FUCK are you doing?"
"Its in the heart of the city."
"Then why the hell are you pointing to a wall? Do you think I can see through it?"
"Shut up and follow the directions."

EVA spoke in a monotone, stoic voice, apparently concentrating very hard in hacking through the Covenant base codes and finding a direct location. Shadow was impressed that she was capable of pulling those types of stunts so far in the future.

"Make a left, and go. I'll steer you from there."
"Right."


It curved towards the sky in constantly twisting and fluid motions, a desperate quest to reach the sky - the points ending only as the highest point in the city. Continuous lines flowed throughout, seeming to be some type of odd modern art sculpture with no military or practical applications. Four enormous, fluid "bars" surrounded the structure, twisting throughout, holding the entire fragile thing together with what seemed to be an amazing feat of defiance against the grasp of gravity. Not a single rigid line, it seemed to have no entrances, nor any thresholds to enter through. It was indeed the largest building in the city, and a magnificent piece of architecture that surpassed any beauty that humans could even imagine. Silver light from the sky reflected off every portion of the bending structure, lending the image of the building a somewhat bright white color rather than its inherent blue. Shadow stood in one of the narrow alleys, leaning on the wall and watching in awe.

"That's one hell of a building. Doesn't seem like it can withstand even one grenade explosion though."
"Looks can be deceiving you know."
"I'm not even going to ask how they made it military-ready. And they certainly value the strength of beauty and pride over stealth. Not very strategic if you ask me."
"The main hall can be reached through the sewer system if you want to enter discreetly. The sewer entrance is right beneath you."
"I see."

Stepping to the side of his somewhat stealthy entrance into the building, he was immediately met with the sounds of plasma rifles and energy explosions. He leaned in one of the corners of the large main lobby where the bulk of the action was taking place, quickly realizing that the blasts were not being made in his direction. He watched as the mainstream Covenant were quickly whittled down by the apparently renegade Covenant force. Strangely, the renegades quickly retreated, only to storm through the main doors again with a covenant tank moments later. With one quick blast, the defenders were completely eliminated, body parts thrown in every direction, and blood becoming nothing less than a bath on the stairs at the center of the room. Shadow remained completely motionless, but the tank seemed have spotted him anyway. In a desperate move, Shadow began a full sprint, pulling his sniper rifle of his shoulder in the process. As the blue explosion rammed itself into the ground next to him, he made an all out jump into the air across the main staircase of the base. In a sideways float, he squeezed off two blasts, and sent the slugs right through the tank. After landing with a huge *thud* on his back, he had realized that he had jumped across about half the room, a whole 20 feet, without any separate propulsion. He had made it clear far before the explosion could have a chance to accelerate him in his direction, and he didn't even feel overly exerted at all. Slowly standing up in the disbelief of his newfound abilities, he looked to the hologram of EVA on the screen on his arm.

"What the hell just happened?"
"You blew up a Covenant tank at point blank range when it had the first shot. Not even a Spartan would have done that successfully."
"I don't understand."
"You'll need to! Look behind!"

Listening careful to the tone in EVA's voice, he knew that danger was presenting itself in his presence. He knew that the enemies were probably at the top of the huge, grandiose staircase, and he was suck between the blown tank and the downwards approaching attackers. In a quick instinctive reaction, he ducked, and dove again to the side, hoping to then find cover in the now blown tank. In the middle of the dive, he watched three elites and four Jackals pile into the room with vengeance in mind. In the midst of this horizontal dive, he managed to un-holster his pistol and pump two shots into two Jackals. Seeing how they would be the hardest to actually hit, he decided to eliminate them before they could react to the danger at hand and place their shields in an effective defensive posture. Two out, five more to go. As he landed, he spun himself sideways, so that his feet were facing the point of his movement rather than his head. In another quick motion, he pushed off the wall, and slid across the floor in the opposite direction of his previous dive, pumping two more rounds into the third Jackal, blowing out a hole in its leg, and another in its chest. The slide was surprisingly powerful enough to send him behind the Covenant tank that sat dead in the middle of the room. Somehow, he managed to move from right in front of the tank, to the wall at the side of the room, to behind it without being shot, and in the process, eliminate three out of the seven threats. His new abilities were absolutely astounding.. He snapped his pistol back into its holster, and pulled up the sniper rifle. Leaning up against the tank, his back to the enemies, he watched as blue energy sizzled and rifled over his head into the now blown main doors in front of him. He quickly moved in a leaned down position to the right side of the blown tank and found a nice sniper position that would be nearly impossible to be hit from. He leaned down, and took aim. Pre-calculating the movements he would make from one enemy to the next, lined up with the head of the leftmost elite, who was still firing at his prior position. He exhaled and fired.

*FTEW* *FTEW* *FTEW* *FTEW*

Four shots in quick succession, leaving four straight and perfect blue vapor trails behind them. Four more bodies on the floor. Shadow stood up, and began a full sprint up the main staircase, as per EVA's instructions.

"What now?"
"There's a ventilation shaft to your right."
"They still have those in the future? I hate those things. So constraining, and so godamn stupid."

Normally, he would have used his grappling pistol to pull himself up to the ventilation grate on the ceiling in the back right of the room. But such was not even relevant now, with the augmentation taken into concern. He was now at the back center of the room, at the second floor, about 12 feet below the grating. He continued his sprint past the grate and jumped right into the wall - feet first. In a fluid, spring-like motion, he pushed off the wall, sending him flying higher. He grabbed hold of the cold, rigid metal of the grate, and spun himself upside down, kicking the grate in the process. Pulling a full flip in quick succession to his previous movement, he was in the shaft with no trouble at all. He looked around him, and rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a small eyepiece, one used on many previous occasions. It sat nicely on his head as he activated the night vision function. As he walked forwards, he could hear a re-eruption of the battle back in the main hall. He just hoped that both sides would be distracted to the point of not even noticing his continued presence in the facility. He persisted to walk through in as close to a sprint as he could get while leaning down so far in the narrow shaft.

"What now?"
"This shaft leads directly to the mainframe."
"Well, that was easy enough. Infiltration wasn't that difficult at all."
"I'm detecting...wait. It's gone."
"What?"
"I thought I sensed a very high yield energy signature, but it's gone now."
"I see."

The grate in the mainframe room was quickly smashed and broken. It plunged to the ground of the room, and hit with a satisfying clang. The dark figure quickly followed, landing in a crouching position. Surveying the area, he could see that the room was basically a giant circular span, pillars about 20 feet from the walls, surrounding the room. They apparently held up a balcony above him, which circled the outer edge of the room. At the other end of the room was a single computer node. The mainframe.

"Is that it?"
"Yes. But I'm reading something really strange. Be careful."
"Alright."

He began a slow jog towards the computer, assault rifle un-strapped and ready to fire. He slowly turned around, ensuring that there was no Covenant presence on the balcony above him. Nothing. He turned back around, only to be met with an opening in the floor ahead of him. Tension rose, and a gun clicked. In the same moment, a red beam showed itself from the floor ground. A quick duck was all that was needed. Nevertheless, danger was definitely rapidly re-approaching. He turned back to the location of the blast, and his eyes were beheld with a very large floating machine. It was very sleek and aerodynamic, with a single red optical sensor at its front. Guns littered its outer body, and he sure that it would take more than a single sniper blast to even dent the thing. It was nothing like anything he'd seen in the past.

He dived backwards, firing off an entire assault rifle clip into the machine before making a sprint for the pillars. They would be the only things that would save him from the fire from that droid. He stepped to side behind a pillar just as his prior location was assaulted with a hail of machinegun bullets, laser blasts, and plasma rays. He leaned carefully on the pillar, ready to move if need be.

"Shit. I'm fucked."
"No kidding. This thing is a hunter-seeker droid, futuristic even for this age. You'll have a hard time even touching that thing."
"Well, what do I do?"
"A simple EMP blast will work. But according to the diagnostics loadout, the only thing that'll have enough power to eliminate it is that high-density EMP mine you have there. You'll have to plant that thing right beneath it and trigger it as soon as you place it. Make sure you don't get too close to the computer. You don't want to blow that."
"Righ..."

His words were immediately shut up in his dried up mouth, as the blackness suddenly appeared to his left. The hunter-seeker droid had moved with amazing speed. One second there was nothing, and then next, it was right next to him. Fear had taken hold, but not enough just yet. He froze only for a second before ducking and rolling back, firing two sniper blasts into the hull of the droid. As he did so, blasts sent themselves across the room right above him. He was glad that the reaction time of the droid had been slow on that occasion. He continued to slide backwards, firing bolt after bolt of sniper rifle fire into the thing, but nothing happened. The thing just kept on coming. Still sliding on his back, he pushed off the outer wall on his right with his feet, and slid behind the next pillar. He was met with complete silence, save for the heavy, fearful breathing coming from him. He had never been so scared before. What he had to do was completely impossible. Not near impossible, not almost impossible. Damn impossible. His thoughts were again interrupted as the loud smashing sound was made, and the pillar was shattered behind him. Broken shards of metal rained down upon him, one sending itself right through his right forearm. Blood immediately splattered out, and continued to flow as it smashed through a major artery. He let his arm fall, and the hand involuntarily dropped the assault rifle that he was holding. Blood dripped on the ground in quick drops, slowly draining the life from him. He knew that even if he could keep this up, he would lose in the waiting competition - the blood loss would kill him. He fled to the next pillar, scared even to fire back this time. It was like an entire army, impossible to destroy, and impossible to slow down. The shard was still in his arm, and pain was beginning to let itself be known as more and more blood drained from his body. He needed to eliminate the threat quickly. He just hoped that the AI on that thing wasn't too advanced for the trick. He quickly pulled out a fragmentation grenade, and used his left arm to throw it into the middle of the room. Two clanks and an enormous explosion in the big open area was all that was needed. The droid quickly shifted its attention to that location, and the hulking machine moved towards there in an investigating manner. Summing up what courage he had left in him, he pulled out the EMP device, activating all the settings. The blood from his arm had dripped on the device, and it was becoming hard to figure which buttons to activate it. He would have to move at an impossible speed if he was to avoid any damage at all. He stepped to the side of the pillar and began a full sprint towards the droid. In amazing speed, the droid spun again, pulling off endless fire on his location. He made a desperate dive to the floor right below the droid, slamming the mine down, and activating the detonation. He looked up to see a red, optical eye widen in surprise and fury. But it was beyond any chance of reconciliation. The EMP blast was sounded, and the droid fell limp to the ground in a crash, bringing about a dead silence into the room. Shadow was a few feet off from the detonation location, being blown back by the electrical energy.

"How the fuck..."
"It doesn't matter. Get to the computer and end this."
"Hold on."

He grabbed for the shard, a sense of stress and tension arising, as he knew the pain that his action would bring. He closed his eyes, and tore the shard out in one quick motion. He yelled a little, but not loud enough even for anyone on the other side of the room to hear. The bleeding was still coming. He tore off a piece of the long extra fabric to his fabric mask, and wrapped it around his wound. The black cloth was immediately saturated with a discolored red, and the color of the fabric changed from a total black to a deep red.


"Its done. I have the coordinates."
"Can we get out of here now?"
"Yes. Wait. Hold on. Right in front of you!"

He looked up, even though the correct movement would have been to take immediate cover. It seemed that curiosity had overcome his reason, and he saw the Lanaan. One of Shade's personal bodyguards. Of course, Shadow didn't know this at the time, and he was folly enough to believe that he was simply just a regular soldier. He un-strapped his sniper rifle, the only major weapon he had left, and fired two bolts at the Lanaan's head. But the resounding sound was not of a cracking skull and splattering blood, but rather the pings of the wall. He lowered the rifle, searching for the location of this elite. A flash of color to his right was the only evidence he had before the hit was made. White light found itself at his eyes as the pain at his cheek rose up within him. He was met with a swift elbow to the stomach a deadened thump as witness to the impact. A guttural pain was sent throughout his entire abdomen, as he realized how strong this elite really was. But, reaction still wasn't out of the question. He reached behind him. A silver blur, and then purple blood was all that could be seen between the two. Shadow stepped back, a large, ancient, Chinese straight-knife in his hand. Purple blood dropped slowly from the creature's arm as the slice was made. In a quick response, Shadow threw the knife, and it landed its mark right through the chest of the creature. But to his absolute surprise, death was not the result, but rather a flurry of blows from the Lanaan's plasma rifle. He took one step back, and a dive to the right just as the bolts would have impacted his body. He stood up in a lightning fast movement, pulling his sniper rifle over his head, holding it by the butt end. His arms came down, and he threw the sniper rifle at the elite, not intending damage, but simple distraction. The Lanaan caught the rifle and tossed it to the side, intent on the idea that the throw was meant to inflict damage. But rather, the distraction was enough time for Shadow to pull out his sidearm and pump five shots into the creature before disappearing. The creature looked around, bewildered. He pulled the knife out in a smooth and seemingly painless motion, and lifted its plasma rifle again, anger taking over its emotions.

Shadow had now grown confident that he would be able to destroy this creature in due time. Instead of taking the smart route and firing from a distance to simply eliminate through that course, he charged the elite, gun blazing. More purple blood, but of greater attention was the hand that was now around his neck...squeezing. He sputtered to breath as the elite now had him firmly in his grasp. He had been stupid...and overconfident. He felt his air being cut off, and knew that he had only a few valuable moments before all was lost. The pistol clanged to the floor as all strength in his arms vanished. With the last of his energy, he made a full kick sidekick to the creature's arms and to its head, landing a bone-shattering crack to his face. The grip was released, and air was returned as he dropped to the ground. The creature was still alive, and apparently he had only fractured a jawbone, or the alien equivalent. He landed on his back, miraculously next to his pistol. He snatched it up, and fired two into the Lanaan's head. Blood flew up into the air like a geyser as he watched the creature die immediately. The creature stood only for a moment as the last of his life-force spewed out of his head, and then fell over on the computer node. Shadow laid there, breathing heavy.

"You're such a lucky little bastard."
"Just get me an exit."

Rebirth - The Ragnarok
Date: 11 August 2003, 8:19 PM

NOTE: As some of you might be noticing, my chapters have become more and more assuming, and therefore, will be impossible to understand if you haven't already read the past chapters. I know that it is a very annoying way to do things for you that are new to the series, but it helps keep things flowing, and that's how I want my chapters to work.

They were like a mass of locusts, swiftly moving along the streets, taking up every single possible space that could be spent on a living creature as the enormous "army" of Covenant civilians flooded towards the military complex, staring at the ruined building entrance and listening to the numerous gunshots and explosions that occurred throughout other subsidiary areas of the heart of the city. Not a single hand was there to push them back from their overwhelming curiosity, for all were spent in keeping one dangerous foe from escaping the confines of the spiraling base.

::What has transpired, friend?::
::It appears that the rebels had planned a counterattack against the military. There are rumors of a human in that building there as well, though such not very likely.::
::You speak truly.::

The many moments of intermittent gunfire, and explosions were counteracted with a short, yet potent silence from the levels above. Not a single sound was made from the base for seconds on end, and the crowds quickly hushed to a silence in an involuntary response to the quietness that had met them. In a succeeding moment, a whole floor was gone, shattering into nothing. Glass and shards of metal flew out from all parts of that horizontal thread of a floor, raining death upon all the sightseers that looked from below. Chaos was dispensed quickly on the ground, and the watchers had now run from their interests in an elevated purpose of saving their own hides. A pure black plume of smoke ignited in a mix of fiery red and orange around the entire shattered floor as a lone figure flew out from one side, in perfect diving form. Strands of black flowed behind his body as his diving arc drastically deepened. Though the threat of death still loomed over the civilians, all had the curiosity to watch the figure seemingly float down towards the ground. Plasma rifle blasts were made from within the confines of the base, sending additional illuminations out to the sky, but to no avail, for the dark figure was moving far too fast and erratically for any hint of accuracy to take place. All watched, and were shocked to see the figure simply vanish in the air, the instant disappearance of the opaque dark color a vivid image in their minds. All sounds and gunfire seemed to stop in the shock of the disappearance. All eyes were fixated on where the figure once was, and the civilians' heads were fixed in a unison position. Time, it seemed, was at a standstill.

"Get me a ship."
"How demanding. How about just a little break for my databanks to replenish their calculating efficiency? I just got you out of maximum security military complex, and all you can make is demands?"
"I really wish you acted more like a machine. Then I wouldn't have to have these damn arguments with you."
"Ha! You know you'd be dead form the sheer amount of boredom of life. Besides, I've found us a ship. It's a Covenant rebel ship that has been impounded by the Covenant military. With all the attention focused on the recent dismantling of the military base and the search for your worthless hide, the impounding station should have very few guards and the like."
"Why that ship? Why can't I simply steal a ship from the military hangar?"
"You're an idiot. We need a small ship that will be difficultly detected, and can make hyperspace jumps. Besides, the statistical background of this ship is impeccable, what with its present condition. Not to mention the amazing hull design that is very effective at warding off all forms of bludgeoning damage. Of course a level 4 hacking device could have erased the historical records of the ship's past involvement with the military, and restored it to a perfect record in civil matters. Though why it is in the impound would be a problem to thus explained reasoning. The traditional interc..."
"I got it, I got it. Now, just tell me where that damn impounding station is."
"Would you like me to point?"
"NO! Definitely just tell me the coordinates and bring up a R-5 zoomed map on the datapad. I don't want another fucking wall incident."

The alleyways were the best bet considering the very hostile situation on the main roads, and the farther he got from the whole big explosion thing, the better. He would have to keep in constant movement if he even wanted to have the slightest chance of living though, even if he was moving away from trouble. The entire planetary army was likely right on his ass, and he needed a quick way of escaping unseen. It took but a few minutes for him to make his way through the alleyways to the impounding station, with the exception of a few elites that he had to dispose of. Standing on the outside of just another futuristic device, which what seemed like a laser fence intent on keeping troublesome civilians away. He activated the targeting reticule on the datapad, and began scanning each ship, searching for the location of this rebel fighter.

"How much time before the search parties find their way to my location?"
"We have three minutes tops. No need to scan. I found the ship, and there is only one guard that we need to rid ourselves of. By the way, the ship name is the Ragnarok."
"What?"
"I'll explain the meaning of the name later. Just place a small charge at this laser fence generator here, and we're in."

EVA marked in a targeted spot on one of the numerous poles that were spitting out the lasers, each pole generating a laser into the other, essentially creating a very long fence around the compound, that "bended" at each of the generators. It effectively created one long multisided polygon that surrounded the entire base. He sprinted from his hidden position next to an abandoned business building and pulled out a RCT-29 explosive. It wasn't powerful, but it didn't seem like he'd need much to take out the generator that he needed to hit. He nailed the RCT right on the pole and dove as the explosion tore the pole in half, leaving a nice little space that lacked in the precise laser deterrent. He was in, and the ship was parked there in the impound right in front of him, slowly bobbing up and down on its hover systems. It didn't seem like much of anything. Its main hull was something of a vertically elongated circle, with two dorsal fins on top and bottom with the slant pointing backwards rather than forwards, effectively leaving the other straight half of the wing to be facing forward. The side wings were simply very long sections that were positioned forward rather than sideways. What the result was something of a thin but very forwardly long wingspan that was perfectly for making the ship a small target. It all looked something like a metallic, sleek fish.

"That was easy."
"I'm deactivating the attached security system, and opening the cockpit doors now. I'm also downloading the schematics, so you can actually fly this thing out into space."
"I can handle it."
"It's a hundred years in the future at least, and you're telling me that you can handle an alien ship that's far beyond your experience?"

Shadow gave out a sigh, its intention to express annoyance, though it seemed to come out more to relieve stress and exhaustion.

"Just activate the console and the drive systems so we can get out of here. I'm feeling wrong about this. If they see us leaving, we'll have the whole fleet on us."
"They're activated and...uh-oh."
"What now?"
"A Covenant patrolman is reporting on the military band that he's seeing some odd commotion at the impound. They're bound to send at least one investigation team."

Without a response, Shadow looked down at the controls, trying to obtain a bearing on the quite hazardous situation. The console was lit up with numerous alien labeled devices and odd contraptions. He couldn't even find a throttle. In his confusion, EVA realized that if she didn't provide assistance, there would be some very real problems in the near future. Namely, a whole Starfleet meeting them in space.

"That button there, and here. The throttle will come up to your right and the EMS console on your left."
"Right. I knew that."

He first pressed the two buttons that he was told to activate, and it seemed that he was ready to go. He activated the vertical thrusters, but nothing came out. No sound, no beep of failure, not even an attempt to break free from the ground. Shadow's eyes opened in surprise and urgency.

"Cockpit."
"Working on it. It seems that the impound had a secondary security system. It'll seal it in a second."
"Open it. Now."

She couldn't understand his urgency, but she knew that he rarely ever said anything without reason, and she immediately dived back through the system and flipped open the cockpit. An alien yell in the voice of an elite was roared out as the cockpit swung open, sending the elite flying from where he was previously on the cockpit window.

"Close it, and get us out of here. And while you're at it, block the planetary transmissions if you can. I don't want to deal with a fleet."
"Done, done and done."

She was quite an amazing AI, even in this future time. The ship rumbled to life, and its thruster lifted them off the ground.

"The ship is registered to a Covenant "civilian", so as long as we don't cause any trouble, we won't have any problems."
"Right."

Before time was up, they were beyond the holds of the atmosphere, passing through the last of the gaseous visual blockage and into clear space. He half expected to be met with a huge number of ships as the mist cleared the cockpit windows, but he was met with nothing but the deep blackness.

"We made it."
"Strangely enough. I've punched in the coordinates of this Uzumri, though its at the rim of known space, and it'll take a number of days to get to."
"Supplies?"
"Checked the inventory before we launched. We have enough for two weeks...or a few hours at the rate you're eating candy bar."

He smiled at their recently accomplished endeavor and at EVA's slightly entertaining sardonic nature. He felt his forearm, feeling the bandage that was around it. It would heal in time for their arrival at this Uzumri ship, or at least enough to be functional. He looked back to the planet, as alien from space as it was on the ground. He smiled once again...and then they were gone.

Rebirth - The Long Expected Meeting
Date: 12 November 2003, 2:09 AM

Hello again, everyone. A long time it has been, yes?
To those who are new, this has been a series for... a while. To get all of it just do a search for Rebirth, at the top of the fan fiction screen in that box.

The preludes are Rise to Honor, The Ascendant, and Fafnir. I can't remember 415's... maybe an author search?

Anyway, as Arch would say... ahem:

The Merry Marines Live?

"Lord Weilan," Tras'Lok began his reports and instructions. "By now you've received our orders so conveniently relayed by the Lady. Halo's location has been marked on your navigational maps." - He paused, considering whether to tell him of their plans for Biraak, tapping the datapad as he did so. - "My personal instructions to you are as follows. Find the estimated time of completion for our planetary offensives, and tag them on your own report. When you have completed such, send them with Urien."

He tapped his pad once more, and sealed its authoring function before handing the troublesome device to the Jackal. "If you are assaulted in Uzumri's corridors..."

"Truly my Lord, I recall. Should I be attacked I will dispose of this item." She waved the pad. Tras nodded, more or less satisfied. Like him, Urien was a firm believer in honor. As a general and warrior he respected that sort of initiative. Upon learning of her existence, he'd immediately requested her services as an aide, which she happily accepted.

When his new aide departed, Tras'Lok pulled another grouping of documents onto the holographic representations facing him. He hated his duty. All he wanted was to live solitary, apart. Perfecting his arts and learning. T'was not to be, he knew that much. He still had duties to perform. But...

"Lord Tras'Lok."
"Yes?" He activated the intercom reply.
"Ambassador Mydrias Laxamee' is en-route."
"Thank you, I shall be there shortly. Is the Lady...?"
"She is currently on location."
Hopefully she did not see cause to 'punish for tardiness'. Tras ascended from his current post, and began the trek toward his monarch... and his destiny.


Shade felt her patience dangle once again. Ten minutes ago she had arrived, and was now standing on the boarding deck, where the ambassador's vessel would hopefully land without ill tide. All too slowly, his single ship glided in.

Around her general area, several meters behind, eighteen of a total nineteen Lanaan shifted in nervous tense, their perfectionist worlds shattered when shrill audio speared the room. The ship's engines were loud. She resisted the urge to cover her ears.

Gradually, it dropped into place, and the canopy slid open. The mists and smoke jumped out in a grand acrobatic display, created in order to compensate for the chill of space. Another grouping of molecules followed, a gray figure, a Torra slightly shorter in stature than was normal. Immediately she began walking towards him, hand outstretched. Their greeting would be simple. One handshake that identities might be confirmed, two in order of proper conduct...

Suddenly, her ears caught what her eyes could not. Footsteps! He was running!

Eliminate it.

Who are you?

I am in you. I AM you. You want to eliminate it, because it is trying to cease you.


She stood, or thought she was standing, it mattered not. What did matter was that she could see the entire exchange from her vantage point- and much to her dislike was unable to influence its workings. As the blurry shape landed from his brief contact with her, one of her flanking guards managed a rapid counter-attack in the form of a diagonal swipe with his sword.


Had she been shot? Shade could not remember being hit by any sort of projectile. But her ears were ringing; did that mean...?

Instead of slipping back and crushing her as she had expected, the intruder swerved into her guard's attack and latched onto his throat, pushing him -and his translucent tower shield- between himself and a pair of incoming azure plasma bolts.

You've been shot, affirmative, Reclaimer. Computer readouts specify zero one Depleted Uranium rounds. These were fired from a customized Sniper's weapon with an extended magazine of unspecified ammunition quantity.


Training took hold, and her world became sharp. Perspiration was in the air, as well as carbon and ozone. A second member of her Lanaan shoved the intruder over the side of the walkway. Victory!

He simply let go of his previous trouble, crashing down with audible clang, and rolled aside as a plasma sword whip-lashed the air inches from his face. In moments the barrel was up, and her Guardian's head was missing. The god-forsaken uranium slug had gone completely through his shields!
In rising volcanic tenure she allowed her legs to carry her upward, locking them so that she would not stagger, inhaling deeply what air remained surrounding. Eyes glazed with unnatural light; willpower bolstered by deeply burning anger, Shade raised high her hands and shouted. This affront- this human; would die.

"Infurnum!" Source-power inconceivable, a single blazing fireball leapt free of her outstretched limb and soared away. "Creatis Infurnium!" Three identical their brother followed, utterly blinding, remorseless. Like her in many ways. These, her prey warded; a beautifully sapphire sword nearly one with his feeble paws, those paws he surely called hands.
Shade growled. Not grimaced, not groaned displeasure, not hissed...

Literally growled another spell into being. "Bari sendur frigidice!" Air chilled, her blood began an ugly, bone shattering freezing process; biting her very soul with rabid delusions, sharp contrast to her usually vibrantly morbid self. And then, she relinquished her tight hold.

Gobs of what, to a casual observer, appeared nothing more than tar. How wrong they were. Any substance they passed seemed gathering nothing less than frost, chanting worship as a better traveled. After what Shade perceived like minutes of calm tension, they struck. With each moment wasted, the plasmatic wonder shriveled, sizzled in death throes. Her prey let his arm glide retreat, and advance.

Every instinct told her to dive, to get away! But she knew that did not need to happen, she would be protected regardless... nonetheless, something within denied such an accusation of brazen carelessness. As any truly sane warrior might, Shade gathered her instincts and dove aside. Her ambition paid good fortune, and the impossibly cold weapon lopped off a considerable lock of hair. The initial attack at a simple bullet's hand had obviously proven enough that she must rest before her defenses would function correctly. For several key moments, she hesitated.
This was all her human prey needed. Deliberately expeditious, he swerved, ducked, rolled and sidestepped over fifty brain-searing plasma globs and dropped his knee on her chest, a gleaming metal shard in hand. Apparently he needed to be sure, and would watch her bleed in his own time. Shade supposed she would have done no less. It was not in her plans, however. And would not come to existence.

Look within each glittering pool, human; reach starlight, that is my eyes.

Soon, Shade reflected. Soon he would feel an odd pull, an irresistibility pleasurable temptation. He would gander her eyes, and view hatred reflected there- feel his soul ripped away. Only then, would she watch him die. Humans deserved no less than eternal servitude; she mused internally. There were very few fates worse than slavery.
"Human, I will not permit your savage mission whilst I may end it; for I know such grants your safety!" In human tongue, had these words, this sentence, been cited. Tras'Lok was the only entity, other than herself, capable of such feats. Tras's dually booted hooves slammed into his arm, and the Torra's muscled hand clamped onto her prize with a zealous magnetism.
Shade watched in unavoidable shock as they descended, dropped off the cable which Tras'Lok had swung in on, and sunk through a hatch.

The midst of battle, the intensity of the situation, the ferocity of the enemies that he fought, the adrenaline that was flowing through his body: all was interrupted quite abruptly as he was snatched from his current position across the hangar floor. Taken off his feet, he was immediately in the state of frantic inaction, attempting to break loose form the iron grip that held him in place, but to no avail. Immediately, the force stopped, and the grip was let loose, in the loud clang of the bay doors being shut in front of him.

Apparently, an elite had dragged him from the battle into something of a secluded and safe area in a fairly small airlock room, with the bay doors already locked tight. He stared at the elite, searching for any reason for the performance of such an action.
Immediately though, the search for a reason was taken away by the recognition of the elite himself. It was the one that had brought him here in the first place. Without any break in time, the rifle was up, and aimed at the elite's skull. He was going to accomplish his task of assassinating this Shade, even beyond what currently stood in his way. The elite was only a foot away from the gun's nozzle, and he realized too late that the elite had quite impressive reflexes. A blur of blue was sighted on his left as his gun's unreasonable stillness was suddenly interrupted by an outside force, sending bullets flying both at the floor and at the wall behind Tras. The force was extremely powerful, enough to knock the weapon out of his hands. Yet, as surprised as he was, he would not let an unpredicted action set him off balance completely. He reached behind him, quickly swiping out at the elite with his small sword at hand. But, this elite proved too quick even for his own reflexes, as he stepped back with amazing calmness that rivaled his own. Before he could make another strike, he was met with the elite's words.

"I wouldn't have imagined you to be so stupid."
"Honor in the destruction of evil is rendered as stupidity in your society?"
"I was speaking on our little tirade in the tavern. I wouldn't have thought someone of your abilities to be so... trusting."
"So you're saying that coming on this ship and taking on dozens of enemies was a smart thing."
"Nay, that too was foolish."
"Only as foolish as your words, elite."

He clicked his small sword back into its sheath behind his back, and un-strapped his sniper rifle with his other hand in one smooth motion. He set the rifle down, apparently aimed at the elite. The shot was fired, but did not reveal a dark purple spray of blood, rather the sparking and breaking of the locking panel directly behind Tras. Before the elite could react, Shadow was past him and through the now open doors.

(NOTE: Thanks to Louis for the hasty reply to my e-mail! - Knightmare)

Rebirth - The Child Within
Date: 20 November 2003, 10:31 PM

Apparently Uzumri had made their journey painfully long; every place she ghosted into, restless warriors were gathering what little energy possible and making tasks previously considered simple ridiculously slow. Whether or not discipline should be imposed, she would ponder.
By a random twist of fate, chill drafts labored to tangle her in surmised mass. Unconsciously aware, she felt the slowly receding, yet still wicked looking wound, wary of the fact that such drafts caused it to make her feel uncomfortable. At her side, 424 Gallant Claw terminated his previous flight path, content to hover. Much to her dismay, he was a uniform; and very vexatious residence.

"I am detecting elevated chemical levels in your body, Reclaimer. I suggest you seek medical attention." His voice alone made her wish she would gather the desire enough to blow him out the nearest airlock, instead she dismissed him with an offhand wave. She did not have time for idle banter, or even time to treat her body of it's ailments, there were duty rosters to distribute, obviously if she did not complete that task, she would find an immobile, unprepared fleet very entertaining indeed.
Roughly as entertaining as the nearly cauterized flesh of her abdomen, she theorized.
She handed off yet another data pad to Mulock, a passing Intejii, noted his half-dead stare; and scanned others. Mulock's gaze was mirrored in various degrees.

Inevitably her stride carried her into a barracks. Covered from wall to wall with games, sleeping quarters or sparring Hunter/Jackal combinations, it did indeed look lively. Were it not for the commotion in the corner she could have thought it festive.
Two massive, muscle-bound Hunters were exploiting a shapely looking Jackal. They were not bond- brothers, however they did seem to be good friends. She had seen enough of those to recognize the threat such relationships possessed. She would not allow them to destroy her painstakingly careful organizations.

"Surrender to me your weapon." The larger snapped in bass tones.
"My Lord Yaztaruka, I mean no offense, I shall perform mine kata elsewhere." This voice was female.

Yaztaruka's companion giggled in an all too disgusting fashion. "We care not. Give us your weapon or we break your arm, elder one." So, the Jackal was their senior by some years. Therefore it knew not to strike either for fear of punishment. Which was why neither was bleeding to death. Shade smiled as she heard bones cracking. She imagined that it was a human spine, before maneuvering to get a better view.

Yaztaruka had a grip on the she-Quizal's forearm. Blood dribbled between his fingers. Though she could tell the Quizal was in pain, the creature did not express that trait with anything other than a near inaudible whimper.

"Listen now, either!" Shade snarled. "Pray the Quizal does not demand restitution, for I shall seize from your hearts!" All motion stopped; games were claimed by gravity as the room's occupants snapped to attention. All save Yaztaruka and his companion. She strode between them. Truly, she cared not for internal politics, she did know, however, that she needed every warrior in peak condition if her army was to function correctly. She would therefore provide for them, and see to their well being. Yaztaruka, she sensed, knew this only partially. What he saw was a frail little girl. How wrong he would be.

Perhaps it was on instinct bred into bone; perhaps it was because of the slight rush of wind, but as the meaty arm swept toward her body a slight snap of her fingers caused it to collide with a wall of rapidly accelerating particles.

Gasping in horror, Yaztaruka tried in vain to douse the inferno sleeping atop his smoldering hide. It had begun in ambush, and only now, ended in silent scream. His eyes displayed underhanded venom, his nostrils flaring to detect his slightly grayed arm.

"Daughter of Covenant," Yaztaruka held her by the throat now, allowing her the barest shred of air. "You have caused us to travel thousands upon thousands of units, only to be stranded here, over a hundred years from where our location should rest! The Doomharrow have existed for aeons and with you at our lead we have accomplished nothing in light of defeating our mainstream brethren! Do you have anything to say?
No! Do you know why we followed you! Fear! But now I show all how weak you truly are without your personal guards and living façade! You have burned the wrong warrior!"

Having some difficulty speaking passed the clotted blood in her throat, she managed to gurgle, eyes universally spaced. Onlookers tasted in her fear; drank of endless perspiration. "Let me go. Please." She muttered this as best she could under the strain Yaztaruka's meaty paw provided, fully aware that she was physically unable to escape her captor. His strength could overcome hers even had infinite number multiplied it.

He laughed, turning his head, bringing his first closer to his body. "Do you see, friends? Do you see your monarch's inability? A foolish child's infirmity?"

"I am followed," Shade hissed, blood resembling water coating Yaztaruka's gauntlet. "Because deep inside, are sewn loyalty's seeds!" Faster than most could even process thought her teeth were upon his exposed throat. Shade felt him pull away, likely more on instinct than anything else, his grip on her body relented. Hers did not. Shocking which she normally considered grave inconvenience birthed once again, and this time she considered it rightful punishment. Guided into the Hunter's massive armor by rules of conduction, it proceeded to cook him as if he was placed within an oven. Lighting burst o'er his form.

Shade found herself on deck, peachy organic fluids gushing down her chin. She spat out chewy meat and performed an about-face. Her contradiction had merely been in defense; and in her mind; a defense mounted with justice. Infirmity was for poorly bred peasants.

Left and right Hunters charged, spines glinting in nefarious design. Nine versus one; she'd never considered those good odds. But she knew she possessed a single advantage. Her first target closed much too rapidly for her enjoyment. Darting away, ensuring she did not do so with as much speed as she could have, whispering asseveration. "Attasu Havthos Calten!" One of his razor-sharp spinal blades dropped free and dissected his entrails.

Quizal sprinted away, some being trampled by their Hunter companions. She repeated her previous phrase, gesturing with wild stirrings. The Hunter's spinal blade cut itself apart, pinning seven bulky warriors to the walls in various painful places, genitals being the vast majority. Flames inched along their skins, slowly roasting them alive.
"Taste my fury!" Shade roared at her final enemy in challenge.

"Physical combat, girl. You are no match for me." She stood frozen, exposing her throat. Their distance was equal, formed by a center point marked by bloody skin. He charged, playing death incarnate. Shade did not move, did not loose breath's rhythm. Their screenplay would end soon. She supposed that on the off chance she did manage to kill this Hunter, she would be too dead to realize it. His bulk crew closer...

Closer still. She could hear his feet pounding the grates below them...

Thud.

Thud; Thud.


Stinging pain nibbled across her arm. Shade heard her clothing rip free. Once again, they faced off. The Hunter wore a dark expression, his smirk nothing less than sadistic. "You have the human form, surely they find your curves to perfection... and with that perfection, is your frailty." Unwilling to answer, to grant satisfaction under his remark, she crossed her arms o'er her chest, and waited.

"Death becomes you, bitch Queen." Yaztaruka took two steps, effectively closing her route of escape.

She waited.

Waited,

Waited.


They charged as one, unanimous and unstoppable. Faster than even she expected, the first Hunter's shield warped into her ribs. She heard something snap, wanted to scream in agony, wanted to do many things. Yaztaruka's brutish paw snatched her up. "Scream." He cooed, squeezing.

Scream she did, feeling bone grind against bone. Her body would not heal an unclean break such as that. Something inside popped with a sickening sputter. Instantly, slight-diaphanous gowns whipped into being, a black royalty. They whirled and twisted with lives plenty.

"So she is clothed again... soon your freakish nature shall not even give you dignity enough for that!" Yaztaruka's companion laughed. The Hunter dropped his prized plaything, his arm delivering its solid blow to her back. Disallowed grace enough to fall, Shade felt her spine fracture. Without warning, both Hunters began to flail about.

The many ribbons woven into her new clothing were at their throats, tangling windpipes, gouging at exposed eyes. Paper-thin cuts appeared. Shade watched in amusement, when unknown to both Hunters; a shining blue blur cut Yaztaruka's leg off at the knee from behind, a movement beginning low, gradually ascending. Faster than normal human eyes, and her blurry ones could see; the blade altered course and clove his head off with impossible precision. Clogged with blood, still capable of smell, her nose detected a Jackal's scent. Female... acrid burning flesh... plasma screaming inside it... She sensed no more.
Tras'Lok holstered his blade, and knelt. Grim eyes searched. Her pupils had lost focus. Shade was not breathing. Was she dead? Softly, he stroked her hair, brushing several loose strands out of her mouth.

Dropping his head, mandibles carefully grasping her ear, shaking. This drew slight response. A putrid cough which expelled colorless blood; he swiped it away, his eyes meeting those of his sworn Lady. Her cruel emerald facets seemed to burn with passion, even facing death. The silver flakes within them drifted casual hopelessness. Where words did not form, gaze was more than enough compensation.

I know you. But I don't remember you. Speak. Victory... Lower-caste Creature... Mine?

"My Lady," He could not swallow the knot his throat harbored. "Yes."

He watched her sigh one final time, in resignation. Her eyes drifted shut.


"My Lord, Tras'Lok! We must re-locate the Lady to Uzumri's Medical Chambers!" He glanced toward his newest friend, his Jackal companion. Shade's body exploded with newfound motion.

"No!" It was as primal a snarl as any he'd ever heard. "No medical lights, no machines, no prodding instruments!" She was sooner going to kill herself! Tras'Lok allowed her to drift into his arms, her rage slipping away, gradually ceasing to exist as she lost the little strength she had left.
"Mistress Urien, warn Weilan of events passing. Within my quarters, I shall await." He watched his friend bolt off, and, cradling the Lady so that nothing could harm her, he began his trek, ignoring the vacant gazes which; seemed glued to him; or more appropriately, what he was carrying.


RCE: Uzumri - Tras'Lok's Quarters
En-route to HALO Installation

Shade snapped her eyes open, struggling to sit up. A clawed hand pressed her down much too easily. Clawed hands... the same hands, which had left her body broken, dying! "Lay your flesh not, upon purity's form!" She felt her own voice, heard it. Weak volume, yet commanding, strong. Unquestionably confident...
"My Lady, I pray for thee," Tras'Lok pleaded. "Speak much more should you wish suicide. Wounds you have sustained, wounds that should have felled any Torra." His calm voice, she could tell, dripped with easy concern.

"I will not be herded, I will not be commanded by you, wretch." She proclaimed with finality. Truly fatigue was well upon her; she knew this. Still, she felt undeniable pain. Her body required setting. "Speak." Though Shade knew of his obvious, perhaps unintentional half-treachery, he could still be useful; unlike many others, his path of wrongs was easily redeemed.

"I have managed various repairs in the traditional Torra ways, applied dressings in my people's custom. I have not truly touched your body, Excellency."

So, her guardian was useful after all. He possessed greater sense than many; she was forced to admit such. For minutes on end, she felt her bones, closed in meditation. Feeling, caressing her inner self for disrepair. Abruptly, she ended it. With a brutal twist, she snapped each of her broken ribs back into place. Her body would do the rest. The pain alone made her wish she would fall, die then and there. She still had work to do, however. Succumbing was not an option.
Almost second-handedly she felt little, reluctant taps on her throat. She investigated, perplexed, realizing only then that she had not screamed. She noted having bitten her lip to prevent that, bitten so hard it had bled. Without energy, she dropped into sleep. Internal bleeding wasn't on her mind just yet.

When Shade awoke, Tras'Lok sat patiently, awaiting instruction. She gave none, and continued watching the rise and fall of her own chest as she breathed. Dead skin had peeled off and been recycled by maintenance machines, she concluded. Her abdomen looked now, as it had before she'd taken what memory recalled as a depleted uranium round. When performing addition, one included various wounds inflicted by once loyal warriors... it was testament enough to her resistance that she had survived.
Hold time's moment. Shade paused. Her resistance in truthful light, was nothing. While she had been weakened, nearly broken, her Doomharrow could simply have disposed of her. This idea was unsettling.

"Arms Master." She called. "Why was I not killed where my body laid?"

Tras'Lok allowed his multi-jawed head to rise. She took several moments to blink before she realized her mistake.

"It is best," He flashed what sounded an old warrior's adage. "When disallowing your enemy any good ideas."


Shade took long breaths, remembering...


Summer among her people was always festive. Birds swooped, dived and strafed for treats as children played with impossible enthusiasm. Shining rays beating down upon them, they continued their innocent games. Paru-Lae's Kick Disk, Hand-Rackets, Hover Sliding and several others she did not know. Quickly Shade diverted her attention. If she stopped listening to Master Scholar Mekan Laxamee' she would be whipped again.

"Do you know what Surrender is, child?" He always asked her questions like this one. Straightforward and utterly boring, akin to his lessons on hieroglyphics or cultures. Regardless of whether or not she approved of him, she would obey. She knew her place, and he was a superior being.
"I truthfully answer thee, I know not Surrender, Master Scholar Laxamee'." Shade responded. It was textbook material in content, but it would suffice. She would give him no more attention than what was demanded of her. Once she would have given him her all, but her mind was elsewhere.

"That response will do, child." His voice sounded understanding, however she highly doubted that big creatures actually had any understanding of things they found utterly useless. Her for example- since no one really knew why a child attended honored academies, instead of the usual Education centers. Master Scholar Laxamee' expressed an incredulous facial posture when he saw her eyes snapping covert glances outside. His carefully voiced lesson stalled. "I do not wish you punished, child. Listen to me, or I will break your arm."

Break her arm? But that would take forever to heal! And Yalan would indeed be very angry with him! Smiling she kept watching the big blue sly, imagining what real wind might feel like. Torra, like Scholar Master Laxamee', were sparring. Quizal, which she had never seen up close other than in those few pictures she was permitted to glance upon, were stalking each other. Without warning a muscled hand gripped her arm, squeezing. "Ouch!" Bones began to strain. "Cease thy activity, Master Scholar!" She cried, tears welling in her eyes. He began to twist. "Answer my question with full cooperation, child. Then I may consider your plea."

"Yes, Master Scholar Laxamee'!" Keenly aware of what he would very well do to her, she slid her eyes level with his own, cringing at what she saw there. No emotions or intentions, only big black holes in his sharply finned head.

"Why did you refrain from listening to me?" He was right in asking, Shade thought. It had been happening for one standard unit now. She had been allowed to see what a window was, and marveled at the new, unexplored world she saw.

"I had been dreaming, Master Scholar." She took a breath, feeling him ease his unshakable grip. "About what wind feels akin, animals and wolfish fur manes, moonlight..." His hand relinquished her arm, which now throbbed considerably. She was used to throbbing, however, and did not mind.

"Would you listen even if such circumstances were taken away?" He asked. Briefly, she considered his idea. He was a goodly creature, and had his heart placed rightly. He was quick to anger when having to repeat himself- just as she was. She would have listened, but these lessons were simply much too boring! Nothing happened. She could not have any direct influence on what she was taught. Therefore, she found them to be simple regurgitation.

"I believe that I would not, Master Scholar Laxamee'."
He nodded, seemingly with his entire life planned out. "Do you know what grass is, child?"

Grass? She had never heard that word before. "No Scholar Master Laxamee," Shade said, realizing she was curious. Maybe he would teach her something new if she asked. "May a lower being request that Lord Master Scholar Laxamee' shows her?" It was best to be polite when asking things of your better, she knew. Even when you lacked enjoyment in their company, she had learned that long ago.

The Torra laughed. "Yes, child. Yes, we will go somewhere you have never seen before."
They were going outside! Her hopes and dreams took flight. It was bad to get one's hopes up, however. She needed to be sure.

"It is truth, that we are going outside Master Scholar?" Her eyes and voice were a touch too excited, but she let that pass.

"Yes child, we are going outside. Find your quarters, substitute your garments and assemble here. Go now."

Outside! They were going outside! She would see wolves, feel wind, not just air parting, but wind, blowing in her face, tossing her hair around. Spider'ly silk upon feathered breeze. She reached her quarters in no time passed, she felt. She had been getting faster, sharper than she had been three days ago, when she had at last been released from her first two years of life. Green liquid. Little pokes, and curious scientists. She could count her heartbeat for it's every pump, feel her blood rush-about her in its vein-river. Hear an insect flutter his mighty wings a half mile away. It felt good, and even better when she slid around the corner closest to her door, entering her barren quarters.

She pulled her acolyte's robe off, and scrutinized it. Simple blue stenciled with silver-black dragons, which coiled up its length. Respectable of what little she had, Shade folded her robe rather neatly and placed it in her dark corner, where she slept. Bothering to evade furniture was useless; she had none. A floor, roof and four walls, was all that others said she needed. Shade did not argue.

Picking wrinkled peasant's clothing off her floor, she donned tightly fitting wilderness clothing. It did not restrict her movement, and for this she was glad. When she met Scholar Master Laxamee', he held an appealing violet robe. It was one of the most richly feeling garments she had ever seen!
He placed it over her body, and pulled the hood up, covering her face. "No matter what happens," He said. "You must never reveal your body when in sight of those outside, do you understand?"

All others did. The concept itself was strange, but he was taking her outside when others never dreamed of doing what he was doing now. "I understand, Master Scholar Laxamee'."
He nodded. "I will speak. Make no sound, and only follow within my shadow."
"Yes Master Scholar Laxamee'."

She was having difficulty seeing regardless, and was glad for his most recent direction. "When you are kicked, do not squeal. Crouch and cower."

Why would anyone want to kick her? Warriors refrained their urges to harm their own... that was what Master Scholar Laxamee' had said...

"You'll see." He spoke this when he'd obviously sensed her confusion.

They passed many, and she was used to that. Daily traffic was common here. She concentrated on following his shadow, and stopped when he stopped. Muffled dialogue was exchanged. Shade knew she could have heart it if she had been listening. Giddy with excitement, she waited.

"Ha, as usual the Grunt is shaking with fear!" A voice she regarded as booming laughed. A hard kick placed her aside her teacher's heel. At first, she couldn't feel any pain. Slowly, then in greater volume it bit her. Shade bit her trembling lip, climbing back afoot. She shut her senses, and kept walking. Disgusting smells vanished, replaced by sweet smells, warmth. Chirping birds...

Her mind burst its barriers asunder. The hood drifted free. Her raven hair, silken and free now that the hood had caught her hair pins.

He looked concerned. "Are you well, child?"
Overwhelmed by the morning's brightness, she shielded her eyes. "It hurts, Master Scholar!"
He placed his left hand on her shoulder. Strangely, although she had been taught that this form of contact was for weaker races, weaker species... she wanted it. Loved his calm air, loved the reassurance he provided her. "Open your eyes, child. Trust me."
"Why? It hurts my eyes, it's too bright!" She whimpered honestly.
"Trust my voice, little one. Open your eyes." He eased her hands downward with his own.

Obediently, she did as bid. Her jaw dropped. The plant was beautiful! Mixed blue, pink and white combinations stared back into her eyes, daring her touch, her smell! If she could just pluck one pedal...
Laxamee' seized her hand. "No, child. Some things you cannot have. Not yet."
"I am curious why, Master Scholar."
"Some things will hurt you-- hold a moment, why do you ask every question? It is my turn."

Her answer attained, she nodded.

"Your age, child. Tell me."
"I am told that my age is Five devil years."
He looked down with slightly sorrowful gaze, as if he wanted to tell her something. He seemed well, and she did not pursue the subject, since his next words sounded cheerful enough.

"Well, I know something you can have, knowledge."
"Please Master Scholar, no more languages lessons, you had said that you would show me grass, and allow me gander animals, and feel wind's dance!"

He frowned. "Very well, child. What do you wish to learn?"
That question was easy enough. Shade recalled a very broad topic she enjoyed over everything else, and was overjoyed when she learned anything of it. "War! Fighting!"

Her teacher smiled. "As you wish." He drew forth a flame-red reptilian creature from within his sleeve. It's eyes blazed white-hot malevolence, being as green as her own were. The creature's black slit pupils gazed with utmost precision, catching every last detail. "Meet Beyrgrand."

What this creature was, she knew not. But she took an instant liking to it. On lost levels, the creature in itself felt familiar. "What is this reptile race called?" She asked. Shade felt that she needed to know what this being was. Just as much as she needed to be here, where she was. Outside...

"This being is called a Dragon. In Torra culture, he symbolizes luck, power and leadership." Beyrgrand hopped free of his captor's arms and lunged into her own. The weight was enough in terms of knocking her down, and she laughed because of that. Beyrgrand's tiny, many-toothed jaws opened wide and a snake-tongue flicked free, licking her face. She laughed again. He was so... prophets forbid her; (Yalan would tear her heart free) cute.

She did not care what happened. She was glad for this experience. Glad that she had met Beyrgrand. But she had missed an important detail in her mirth. When was she going to learn more of Fighting and war?
"Master Scholar Laxamee', you said I would learn more about-
"Yes child, I know." He acknowledged. "We shall play a game."

"What kind of game?" Not many games were fun...

"A war game." He snapped his fingers, causing Beyrgrand's rapid departure.
The only kind of game she knew. The only kind of game she liked to play. Shade was good at those; she always won. That was why none of the other acolytes wanted to play with her when their PT hours arrived. "You'll play a war game with me?" She arose, tingling with new thrills. "What game?"


He seemed as if he was pondering, but it struck her that he was merely drawing breath in enough, preparing for her inevitable barrage of questions, requests at repetition of rules. "It is called Hunt and Destroy. You and Beyrgrand will be playing. Your objective is simple. Race to the lake, and catch a fish. You will know what a fish is, when you see one, worry not.
Once you have caught your fish, return with that fish, here. Your fish must be living for you to win. You will have your head start, however, should I catch you-

"Which shall not happen, Master Scholar." Shade added.

-You must suffer my lessons with full attention. If I do not catch you, you may keep Beyrgrand." He concluded.

"When do we begin, Master Scholar?"

Her teacher remained stone still. Her eyes widening by each second, she pivoted off heel, spun and ran. As fast as the Dragon was, she remained two inches behind every step of the way. He swept his lithe tail in an arc, and seemed to pause for her, ravenous eyes shining. She watched him wheel around a nearby tree, shrieking for his victory, sailing for his soul on soil.

"You shall never better my spirit, prey!" He wasn't going to win that easily. She refused it! Nimble as ever, she felt her blood scream. Her muscles tensed, her heart pounded in her ears. She wanted his speed, hungered for his agility, his freedom. "I am no foe defeated," She told him, aware that such was truth. "I am foe invincible! And woe unto mine enemy!"
Beyrgrand roared, countering with a series of quick gyrations in purpose of throwing her off track. Shade would not have that. She felt her arm, moved it with precision granted by flawless hand-eye coordination; felt her fingers flex, could sense what little strength she had as her hand closed around his tail-


With a flash she was back again. Her weakness had cost her that race, many years ago. It had nearly cost her life, most recently. Shade knew weakness once again. Tras'Lok dared to point it out as if it was free commodity!

"I shall spurn your lecture, Arms Master!" She expressed raw anger, simple, uncorrupt. In moments, that anger had disappeared. Mood swings were usually without from her forte. Lately, however, anything could happen. "Speak truth, Arms Master; Our ETA toward this Halo; tell me."

"We should arrive within ten minutes, perhaps subtracting or adding three. Surely you cannot think I allow your passage there, seeing your present state?"

What... did he honestly believe he could command her after so many rebukes?
Such was Torra nature...

"I shall deign forgiveness, Arms Master- for your impulsive words. You are my protector, after all."
"Forgiveness granted, my Lady? I thank you." He muttered; sounding slightly astonished. "My heart shows gladness that you are yet alive, this is all."

She was not the only one showing weakness! This new threat she would not allow passed. Her own weakness was repairable. That of others, especially concerning Tras'Lok's recent defeat at a mere Human's hands, Shade was unsure. It would be eliminated. Channeling her energies, feeling both replenished, and yet weak, it was resolved that it merely gathered itself to shove her Lieutenant into the far wall. She was content with this. "You will show no sympathy to me, Tras." Voicing her thoughts calmly, evenly. Shade tasted warning beneath her words. "Mine nearly killed me. Should you show yours again, I will kill you. Now, do your duty. I shall remain here. Prepare a Dropship and ensure the Fleet's combat readiness. Make haste!"

He was definitely carrying a sagging posture, however it corrected once orders had been given. Generally, she had learned to interpret this as good. Again, she laid her head down and rested. The dream she received troubled her greatly.

Rebirth - A Simple Plan, and the Confusion of the Forerunner
Date: 27 November 2003, 2:54 AM

Taking two very slow, very solid deep breaths, he opened his eyes. Compassionate, worry-sewn blue orbs stared at him from a mirror on the wall, clouding into interesting green colored windows to his soul. "We face an enemy like we have never known before." The particularly handsome man chuckled, turning to face his companions.
Seated about his vicinity, two others remained impassive, stone-faced and generally acting as if they had two-by-fours shoved into their anuses. A third ruthlessly plucked another shrimp from the hovering tray that was so conveniently caught between the crossfire. "So, beat more meat than we've ever eaten before." This one smirked, having just swallowed his hard-earned delicacy. "Sounds simple enough, Syidu."

Everyone pointedly ignored his insubordination, less-than-presentable appearance and obviously pathetic attempt at humor. "Our main problem is," The first man continued. "That we don't know exactly how much space needs to be covered. Halo Installation 007 should contain every chart or map we need. Complication: Another faction native to this area is already en-route. Though we're a few galaxies away, we should be able to catch up about one hour after they arrive. That puts our ETA at twenty-four renegade hours."

Jaeden'Suel nodded, waving away an empty (though still covered with shrimp waste) hovering tray, and composed himself. "Basically meaning they have time to flick our safeguards' off switches."
Some muffled laughter followed Jaeden's remark.

"What?" He spoke this softly, perplexed. It showed on his face, too, Syidu clearly saw.
"Your pet dog gets smarter and smarter every day." Wing-Lord Isura jested in her usual sarcastic tone.

To this, one falsely named 'pet dog' casually leaned back in his chair and made no move to contradict her statement. Pointedly ignoring them both, Syidu, obviously their superior, resumed his briefing. "General analysis places their capabilities, to put things in simple terms, like taking ballistic weapons to bows and arrows. We go in guns blazing. Head to head, after an inter-system cruise missile salvo intended to take down thirty one vessels."
Two nods. His lifelong friend was committed. Good. As usual there remained a single factor that needed to be cleverly woven into the cause for his plan to succeed. Void-Lord Carab with his virtuous, fierce golden eyes of unforgiving by-book logic would need appeasing. Syidu intended said giving, for something in return. He'd never really liked Carab, he was useful, nothing more. Not Syidu's weak link; he was strong, a good soldier, but he was damn well caught up in procedure. It oftentimes made his head hurt if he thought too much about Carab. Making no effort at concealing his naked frown, Syidu listened. "Why so much emphasis on one ship?"

"Something about this vessel is unique. Way too far ahead of its time, I think." He replied, regarding his new dilemma and pondering, seeming lost in thought before Carab replied.

"I'm sorry Syidu but I'm not willing to commit this warship to some shit-crusted excuse for legitimate mission basis. We've to get home, yes. We do not destroy an entire alien fleet, possibly altering history's course, to ensure secure, untouched navigational data." Laid bare, not leaving out rude, plain and in usual holier-than-thou, the Void-Lord had just relieved him of his duty. He'd expected that to happen eventually, but not so soon. The rebuke actually caught him off guard and in obscure corners. Luckily, unlike Carab, Syidu could adapt. "What authority, Void-Lord?"


Smugly flaunting his rights, the morale boosting new Ship's Lord voiced his droning thoughts, quoting standard law. Grudgingly he had to accept that Carab was right after all. Maybe his proposed mission really was insane. Jaeden and Isura certainly weren't complaining. That didn't mean they were agreeing with their companion. "Very well, circumstantial Overseer Carab. I give the stage to you." He slid into his own chair, watching the other arise.

Face glowing ember red, Jaeden bolted straight like a steel pole. "You can't just demote him!"
"I can and I will, Forerunner. All accounts not mistaken, you shouldn't even be present. Be thankful you currently draw breath." His friend's jaw dropped, and hung there for some time before he managed to seat himself. If Syidu never liked him before, he knew he certainly didn't like him now. He found himself liking Carab less with every passing moment he outlined his 'Ascendant' plans. Syidu picked at each detail, finally clamping down on exactly what he needed. "Ship-Lord Carab, Ascendant was destroyed by Renegade Spartans. No plausible factor can prevent that."

His nemesis curtly addressed him. "Silence!" Carab paused. "You three disgust me. Do not speak until either you're spoken to, or I've concluded my briefing. Furthermore, for your complete disregard of proper directives, your pay is being docked. Jaeden'Suel, you are mere fractions from public execution. This briefing is adjourned. Dismissed."

Syidu nodded to Jaeden'Suel, who nodded to Isura. Who glanced at Carab, then to the door. Carab moved to vacate. As one, three grim, stone-faced soldiers drew their side arms and took aim. Syidu fired first; followed by Jaeden. On reflex, Carab drew his own weapon but was far too late, causing his round to strike the roof of the chamber. Isura fired last, her round directly into the wall behind her two male companions. Gurgling wetly, eyes bulging out, Carab opened his mouth, attempting to speak, apparently. He was never able to ensure the words freedom. His intestines had spilled out. He looked at them, then looked at Syidu. Tried to anyway, had he not been pleading for his life and drowning in his own bile.

Looking somewhat sick, he holstered his weapon and glanced toward Jaeden. "We killed him..." He laughed. "We, actually killed him." It was as if he was sliding through some corporeal tunnel, not quite himself but not quite not himself either. Death was sweet, an aphrodisiac. He took one solid whiff of the air and noted his tingling skin.
"He fired first." Isura remarked.
"I concur. Alert our brethren, I now reinstate myself acting Ship-Lord."

Jaeden snickered. "Better watch the viewing device."
He swore. It was obvious to anyone how much of a stupid slip-up they'd just-

"Don't worry, Carab's round punched through it, disk in all, fate does exist, hey?"

He shook his head and stepped into the corridor as if it was just any other normal day. If it could be called that... dimensions and stars accounted for, you really couldn't tell whether day or night was day or night. Regardless, his stride was confident but not too cocky. Crewmen looked up to him with respect. He looked with respect in turn. Everywhere he walked, no matter common protocol he got a crisp, sharp salute and a hearty "Officer on the deck!"
He would get them home. But first, they had a job to do.

Syidu patched into an internal communications net. "Set course to objective Alpha. Has the Ravager completed her mission?"
The comm. Officer's reply was careful, but in a clear and certain manner. "Ship-Lord sir, they're still on route to Summer- Aye, aye sir, relaying orders and setting course for Alpha objective."

He broke his link and turned to find his friend at his back. Quickly he made the most of this occurrence. "Follow me." They soon found themselves inside the astronomy sector, gazing out at a massive star chart. They were plotting courses, but this wasn't why Syidu had brought Jaeden here. His friend knew things that he didn't and often put his mind well at ease in any situation. He was good at that. "So, we're on our way then. I'd hoped it would be a little less bloody. Less catastrophic." He began, his lips slipping into a quick smile. "They always said I was a liability."

Jaeden took his time in response. "You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Damn. Syidu could remember every last minute from that fated morning. Zeira had never forgiven his lapse of ability, though she never made any note to speak of it, he could tell from every wary glance she gave him. She'd loved him, yes. She loved him still, but there was always an underlying distaste. Jaeden was his constant factor now. His undying support; Syidu was glad to have him for a friend. "Who?" He asked, perplexed.
His friend gave him that damned look. Disappointment... he took a picture from his pocket, a picture Syidu had given him, and turned it on, floating a holographic display. "This is why you're really here, you know."

Syidu looked away, blinking. "Don't put that near me, Jaeden." Things may have been going fast-paced, his thoughts may have been blinking in and out much too fast to count, but in between trying to control his emotions and reactions after the death of one of his own at his hands!
He didn't want any more stress on his shoulders than necessary. "What, this?" Jaeden persisted, weaving in closer to his face. "Face it, old friend. You may be thinking far too much, far too fast for your own good. Do you even know why we raided that research complex and did what we did? Could it be that you were hoping to set things right, change history?"

No. Now he was just being an idiot. "Could be, but it isn't." He replied quite methodically. "Look, this whole thing is nothing more than a damn accident, no mission planning could've foreseen the factors we encountered. Get off my case, I need to breathe, and you won't let me do that."

Syidu kept a close watch on his friend, who was content with a frown and the rather simple phrase of: "I want to meet this kid of yours."

"Too bad we're a few hundred years in past tense." He laughed. "Fits, doesn't it?"
"Not really. When it comes to fitting things, time warp isn't my favorite subject. Too busy thinking 'This is some briefing we bothered to attend' and 'boy, oh, boy, how fast are things proceeding?' Between your attitude, the not so grand plans of the late Carab who died so conveniently, your orders to the bridge... I'm wondering how we managed to accomplish it in say, oh, five minutes flat without getting confused. I can't help but think we're going to have trouble sleeping tonight..."

"...do you remember that time back in infantry grounds when we crept off and stole food to feed everyone who didn't eat?" Syidu queried. They had been incredibly young at the time... perhaps why he never remembered it.

"No." Jaeden shook his head. "Because you stole a hand grenade and used it to blow half of second unit's barracks off."
"Oh." That one seemed more accurate. Honestly Syidu didn't mind; his thoughts were on other, more important things. Slipping from a very high cliff into thundering oceans below, in fact. Drowning in memories and emotions. Strangely enough he actually wanted to drown. Didn't even consider grabbing hold of the lifesaver mere inches away. "Well, it is rather simple. I've got goals and you have someone you want to support. Haste and efficiency is natural, don't you think?"

Laughing, his friend twitched one pointed, very elf-like ear (an unofficially recognized talent) and clapped him on the shoulder. "You really should get out more." They both knew they were still in shock, but neither was accustomed to fainting, so they passed it off with humor.

"How? I'm trapped in here with you, dunce."
"Your turn to tell me something. Our ETA..."
"Just over Twenty Two hours."
"If I can accurately construct our mission scenario before One Hour remaining, you owe me some spirits."
"Deal. Get cracking. Got all the time in Halo's gravity well..."

Giggling like little schoolboys watching Daddy's 'private stash', the two lifelong buddies began to construct a more in-depth battle plan.

Rebirth - The Freefalling Jaeden'Seul
Date: 21 December 2003, 4:40 AM

Inside the spacious cockpit of Savior class Fighter/Bomber Goblin-036 Jaeden shook for the hundredth time in the last two hours. Reading recently gathered intelligence on exactly what these races had speculated about them was odd. Some believed them robotic constructs; others believed them to be gods, wise and benevolent. Nothing could be closer to farther from the truth. In reality, they were simply mortals like everyone else. The Halos had been a combined effort by all Forerunners after their unification. The greatest minds that could possibly be found had banded together and created the pinnacle of their race's developments. But then again, he was getting off his proper mindset. He had a mission to accomplish and he'd be damned if he'd allow sloppily done flight-work. Even with the shakes.
He keyed the intercom that tapped him into his flight wing and issued his thoughts aloud. "Alright gentleman, we're the spearhead in this maneuver. You know what to do."

There, that was easy. He kept a careful eye on his monitors as the wing arrayed itself and backed into precision formation, a claw. Again his thoughts trailed. Syidu's plan had been quite brilliant really. It called for just under eight fighter/bombers, and the Burning Eternal. He was going to have to see how it turned out. Regardless, he still couldn't outrun one overwhelming memory.
When he recalled showing his friend a picture of his object of desire, all he had seen was a blank face. Blank eyes. Blank voice. Blank posture. Blank...
Was that what this was all about? The picture?

No. That wasn't right. He'd shot Carab and he was thinking of the grand scheme of things... how cold could he be?

As cold as Syidu was... never.

Jaeden banished the wayward thoughts from his mind as multiple contacts boiled into life on his screens, weapons fully charged. They knew he was coming. Time to go to work. "This is Goblin-036. Multiple contacts ahead, over twenty capitol ships. Shields are up, weapons charged and ready to swat us off. Let's show them how it's done."
Multiple acknowledgements echoed throughout the dim nebula of his cockpit. His eyes wild, his adrenaline spiking, internally he was well. He was passive and calm. Acting off logic and instinct. The warrior could feel that his muscles were tense, feel that every cell was working in perfect routine. His heart was the foreseen beat. His blood circulation a magnum opus unto itself, his eyes, every predator conceived and tripled ten times over.
He swiped his hand across the acceleration control, and his steed of battle, his Savior, shot full speed for the closest Destroyer.


Doomharrow Destroyer Crimson Snows,
In orbit around Halo Installation,
Bridge

Ship Master Nissa 'Naranee pressed on his hand with some disdain, immediately feeling all too classic, sharp and searing pain. Shaking his head to relieve some tenseness from his body, he dared to look.
Green burn marks gouged its once smooth surface, ringed by ugly blue cracks. Prophet Levi-Nu' Nash had said this was a bad omen when he'd gone to the medical bay to have it treated. Levi had notably commented about the smell, too. He pushed the past aside and counted on the present.
Plasma swords were dangerous; he knew that. That was exactly why he trained with live opponents, and live blades. Allowing one to get so close to his hand was indicative that he was beginning to waver in his skill. It was obvious that any weapon, no matter it's wielder, could stab back given the right opportunity, because like a pawn, weapons did not like being used.
Which was why the Doomharrow had rebelled, had struck back against their mainstream brethren! Already sensors had detected a large mainstream fleet near the formerly human colony of 'Summer!'
They should have been heading there- not wasting time doing an archeological dig in some ancient relic...

"My Lord Nissa." An intejii navigator remarked. "There is... something..."
"Untie your tongue, creature and speak to me!" He snapped.
"Something... coming. It's headed straight t- toward us..."

The Crimson Snows shuddered once, her hull supports straining under unknown impact.
Little did tough, crusty old Nissa 'Naranee know, Levi-Nu' Nash had been right.


Jaeden snarled- an owl on prowl'd ground- He didn't bother to relay what he was doing, everyone had orders to maintain radio silence until after the attack was finished. Contemplating which vessel they would assault next, he watched in dark fascination as his previous target blossomed with tiny pinpricks of light, sub-molecular explosions.
His own attack broke away and shattered a Seraph assault craft like cheap glass.
Meanwhile, Crimson Snows, mighty warship of the Doomharrow fleets, imploded in on itself, core going critical and blasting matter in every direction, not to mention massive, jagged and very sharp sections of hull which had sizzled and shrugged off moments before. The push of a near-impenetrable wall of particles, combined with that speed, proved enough to accelerate-

Veer straight passed the dodging capitol ship Jaeden thought it would just barely glance-

And gut the neighboring Battleship (whose shields had previously been disabled by the Burning Eternal, now moving in-system) from port to starboard. He let out an involuntary, excited laugh. "Eat that!"

Syidu's calm, grim voice broke his maniacal rant. He wasn't talking directly to him, Jaeden knew it was over the all hands frequency, nonetheless each word was a personal rebuke for his mild outburst. He drove his Savior into a steep dive, sliding between two confused looking Destroyers.
"Goblins, this is Syidu; delta-tango maneuver." He heard the communications devices crackle.

Without hesitation those with him formed into a widely spaced triangle, and unanimously selected one enemy ship. They armed weapons. The Destroyer armed it's own weapons, blue-green light collecting along it's lateral lines. Massive power buildups... they were going to vaporize him and his wing with one shot!

On perfect cue, two of seven Savior Fighter/Bombers disappeared; lacking the time to scream as plasma torpedoes redecorated their chassis and finally evaporated them. He heard someone swear. Never once did they pause, No mercy, no remorse. Jaeden slammed his clenched fist down. Missiles danced off from some underside launcher he couldn't see.
The alien fleet was marshalling itself in every possible direction as his craft rolled away. Too late to counter, too blind to bother not to follow Syidu's order, his remaining comrades were melted down into molten slag. He didn't dwell on them. There was time for that later. They'd understand.
Jaeden allowed his eyes to narrow.
From their previous confusion, the aliens were operating in tactical genius. The Burning Eternal eased into view, hull blinking in and out. Syidu had ordered them to employ standard weaponry. Jaeden felt- no he knew it wasn't going to work. The alien's shields had just fluttered on, and the ships themselves were forming into a phalanx.

His control panels relaxed a text message scrolling onto his HUD.

"What the... hell?" Syidu was receiving it too.
"Jaeden, heads-up! Contact coming your way, it's going to blindside you!" Legally Syidu had broken communications protocols to relay that message. He didn't care. His monitors flicked on just as he pressed hard right, sending the craft into a barrel roll, narrowly evading the plasma torpedo, which would have gutted him had he kept to his previous flight path. The proximity detonators inside it snapped to life, spraying plasma in the most likely direction he'd taken. His shields absorbed most, leaving whatever was left to float serenely away.

His tailing enemy exploded, the redirected vapor scoring a 'friendly fire' kill. Jaeden chuckled, and released the safeties on his pre-fitted nuclear round. He'd given one dead comrade his revenge; now it was time to give the rest of them peace.

The alien phalanx formation arranged itself once again, plainly ignoring him, and discharged its main weapons in a one hundred-gunner salute, plasma sailing toward the Burning Eternal in a seemingly inescapable deathtrap.

Jaeden could hear the tremendous explosion. Seven alien warships disappeared. Another group of cruise missiles had arrived. Alien ordinance still banked toward him, like holiday tree ornaments. He supposed such displays were oddly pretty. He triggered a firing mechanism and waited for the vapor trail to appear. Nothing came.

He hit tapped the appropriate symbol once again, causing the missile to launch-

All but two centimeters, and remain in place. "Maximus, why won't my nuke work?" His voice remained calm, despite an obvious tension he felt. Artificial resonance sounded off inside his head with computerized efficiency.

"You've forgotten to pressurize tube number three, Jaeden."
"Oh." He was getting way too high on adrenaline if he was forgetting simple procedure; but then again he wasn't good at utilizing aircraft. He was satisfactory... in an 'I cheated on the tests' sort of way. He was good at killing things by hand, however.
"If you like, I can do it for you."
"Yes, I'd like that." He was somewhat hesitant at first, but when he visualized his craft being liquefied with him still inside...

"Tube three pressurized, Jaeden. Feel free to launch now, may I suggest you do so quickly; plasma impact imminent."

"Gladly." Jaeden rammed his thumbs down. The nuke didn't launch. "Maximus it's not-

"It appears someone has tampered with this vehicle, it can be-

He cut the AI short; figuring it would ramble for hours, should such an act be deemed possible. The plasma was so bright, so eye-consuming. So damnably painful! Jaeden knew what to do with pain. "Maximus, time to threat impact!"

"Eleven, ten-

Two anti-matter coated rounds spread spider-web patterns into the multi-alloy window.

-Seven, Six..."

Jaeden couldn't remember when he'd last practiced Zero Gravity movement, but it was better than this. Using what frenzied co-ordination he still had, Jaeden snapped the safety hardness off and dove not away from but TOWARD the incoming fire, straight through the craft's previously weakened canopy.

Glassy fragments showered his body as his suit's capabilities compensated for what extremes it could, allowing no fault. In moments his body had begun to sweat it's fullest when a pulse laser bolt passed within one meter.
"Two, one." Maximus finished his count. The Savior exploded.

There were two things he immediately discovered. Firstly he noted a very large, very angry looking biped speeding toward him, thruster-pack in hand. Secondly, he noted how damn well impossible it was to stop his momentum. Luckily they collided.
He didn't sense what was coming; the inertia was too much. He was moving, yet his muscles were doing absolutely nothing. His gut was reaching at his throat and eating his vocal chords. Impulsively he began to groan. Taking its opportunity his adversary hammered a muscled elbow into his chin and spiked a knee into his crotch.
He curled up into a fetal position, unwilling to accept his fate. Things weren't supposed to happen like this. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think!

Think think, think...

"I'm going to die." He muttered more off instinct then anything else.
His adversary, a Torra (an elite!), he realized, let loose a throaty howl. "I'm going to fucking die!" He screamed back, uncurling and pumping two rounds into hard vacuum. Recognizing a danger when it saw one, the Torra clamped a clawed hand over Jaeden's fingers, locking them to the trigger. A third round hurled itself away.

While its attention focused itself elsewhere, he shoved his free hand into the back of the alien's suit and pulled. He could hear a sound suspiciously like 'huh?' before the thruster pack activated once again and sent them head-over-heels toward the ring world.
Unable to control itself, the Torra flailed about just as Jaeden did. His however, was much more controlled. Two straps tore free, and the enemy tumbled from view with a silent scream. He held tightly to his chest the thruster pack, and deactivated it, simply coasting to conserve fuel. Double-checking his gear, he discovered his communications devices and beacons were down. As far as Syidu was concerned, he was dead.

He paused. "Do something useful, any way out of this mess?" Jaeden felt himself both blinking back tears and straining to keep his jaw in place. His suit was sealed against most hazards, yes, but it certainly wasn't treated to withstand physical blows. His air was probably running out too.
"Covenant transport vessel detected." Maximus spoke quietly.

He angled his head toward it, eyes flashing in determination. Its vector was about right. Not yet, but soon. Very soon indeed... "Maximus, how much power would we need to hit that ship at just the right angle and catch a hold?"

"Full thrust should do it." He replied knowingly. "How are we going to survive re-entry?"
"I hadn't thought of that yet. Countdown to most appropriate time of activation?"

Maximus responded in seconds, after a brief period of mathematical calculations. "Twenty nine, twenty eight, twenty seven..." Jaeden caught hold of the activation switch, and depressed it.




Like hell on wheels, he, perhaps they, were propelled toward their possible safety, Jaeden hanging on in a death-grip, refusing to relent in this final, rather insane mission. Maximus had seen fit to remain silent, much to his relief. If only he could grab it...
His hand touched the black expanses of space, feeling nothing, held in place by steadily failing joints. Flashbacks and stars shot across his vision, causing him to rely on instinct alone. The smooth, utterly featureless hull flowed like water beneath grasping fingers. Suddenly his hand caught something.
Safe! - His mind whooped.
Muscles tore, a shoulder dislocated, and still the Forerunner was in rapture. Safety!
He lost his grip-

-and caught a hold on the door of the Covenant Shadow jammed inside several gravity beams. The press of some type of force felt good. Agile as a goldfish, fueled by adrenaline, he slipped in, falling into the seats and slamming the door shut.
All audio he could hear... the steadily throbbing crescendo of his heart. The bloodshot tendrils of his eyes; and lungs gasping for breath that simply wasn't there. The Shadow's air recycling equipment skipped in, pressing fresh oxygen into his world. He could breath again. It was not to be. Bile worked its way into his throat, and he had no choice but to spew it on deck.
"Jaeden does this help?" Maximus sounded unsure.
"If this thing can survive re-entry," He began, coughing still. "So can we."

Their world once again in place, Forerunner and Artificial Intelligence watched Halo beckon them closer.

Rebirth - Falling Stars
Date: 24 April 2004, 2:34 AM

Eyes long accustomed to darkness glimpsed the starlight of Halo's night sky, not quite focused, but there was something in their depths. A vastness where one could see everything there ever was to see, or perhaps, nothing at all. Such was the stuff that composed the eyes of Shade, Daughter of Covenant.
Despite the fact that the Dropship's floodlights cut cleanly through whatever darkness cast, she preferred their absence, where she could feel safe and protected. Common soldiery should not be seeing her in this state, she supposed. Shivering, tired and not entirely alert. However, this could not be helped. So, she endured. There were far worse things that could occur.

And she was concentrating on what should not be in the foremost of her mind. Shade found herself with a smile tugging at the edges of her lips, not quite alive, not quite absent either. Focus. She told herself.
Focus and Control.

First, they needed to orient with this system's gas giant, then she could establish a search grid. It didn't take a genius to realize then, and only then, could her team locate the object of their search. Faced with a new goal, her body gradually began to stop its trembling expression. Her vision swayed unsteadily, swathed in blurry splashes of color. Shade pushed passed her maladies and searched for the appropriate star in the sky. Once she found it, she accepted a holographic pad from Tras and keyed in the appropriate data, taking a moment to double-check her mathematics before saving them into an incredibly complicated table. With a precise keystroke she tapped the confirmation key, and several geographic features sprang alive. This was as detailed a map she would get without satellite surveillance.
Shade nodded, and handed the pad to Tras. "Distribute these, check your patrol. Once you have done so, we move out."

She took the opportunity to seat herself on the Dropship hatch and clear her vision, massaging her head to clear the sensations of dizziness that seemed to effortlessly pervert her sense of direction. What am I doing here, lured by the manipulations of a floating robotic toy not truly living?
Was she truly so gullible? No. No, this was paranoia. She was fine. In control. Slowly, Shade exhaled and relaxed as much as the chill air would allow. "We will find the Library Structure using this search grid. Standard reconnaissance rules of engagement apply. If it threatens, return fire. Otherwise, no contact." She spoke this aloud so everyone could hear. Diligently at his post, the Dropship's gunner swiveled his turret in lazy circles. He was covering every angle possible. Good.

"We are ready, my Lady." Tras interrupted her mental workings with his report, and she was glad. Any more thinking, she mused quietly, would have dulled her brain to the point of ineffectiveness. They broke 'camp', if it could be dignified as such, in a single file line.
Urien the Quizal (Jackal) Scout and Tras'Lok, Shade's Lanaan Captain and Arms-Master, took point.

Four Torra (Elites) arrayed in blue armor and herself spaced themselves out in the center.
Finally, bringing up the rear, a Hari-Key (Grunt) healer named Snuggle kept pace as best she could with the massive Hunter, called Kodos.

Shade knew they would be moving over difficult terrain, and it was for this reason she decided not to utilize the Shadow light recon vehicle. It would have required that they smash through uncountable obstacles. Quite simply, proceeding on foot would be faster. She felt as if her heart would burst because of the activity she forced herself to undertake, her breathing was labored. In fifteen minutes time, she wondered if she'd still be able to breathe. The only other member of her squad in similar shape was the Hari-Key, Snuggle, and even she seemed better able to withstand this physical treatment better than Shade herself was.
Within, Shade swore. My body fails me. Damn my weakness! I must persist. She would reach the Library under her own power.

Time seemed to fly by, and it did so in dull leaps as they marched down the winding path in complete silence, all too aware than any slips could alert hostile ground forces to their location. Occasionally, Urien called them to a stop with a barely audible canine chatter. Fortunately, danger brushed them by, and they continued on without conflict.

When she called them to a stop, they performed their duties expertly. Tras'Lok and two other Torra departed in order to scout the group's perimeter, whilst the two remaining Torra adjusted grips on their rifles and remained as sentries.

Kodos and Urien sat down to look upward, where a battle between warship and warship was taking place. The mysterious aliens had all but decimated the fleet, and they, like her, had felt that loss keenly, although for very different reasons. It was a blow to her ego, in a way. She would normally have remained at her post, as was her duty, and commanded the fleet. She did not trust any other than herself to retrieve the index, unfortunately. Now all that could be seen were a few stray explosions, little stars than shone briefly, and went cold again as the alien vessel mopped up the last of the Seraphim single ships. Morale certainly wasn't highest on the agenda, judging by their faces, but she was confident they'd pull through. Shade tried to blink away the tears in her eyes, tried to wipe away the blurry sight they gave her. The dull pain in her ribs had intensified to a sharp crackle that lashed at her every movement. It felt as if her bones were to penetrate her skin or organs every time she moved. In resignation, she lay on her back, trying to breath as the knot in her throat grew. Like it or not, she thought; She was in no shape to command much of anything.

The ground felt wet, mucky and cold. All around the warm humidity of the place was iced with frost and the occasional hard patch. Seeing was not difficult, but she imagined visibility was less than perfect for the others, since the tree canopy allowed no moonlight to pass through the forbidding shadows of the swamp. There was one thing that could be considered favorable. The spot they'd chosen to rest was sheltered by a thick copse of trees, spotting them from above would be difficult, and any progress through the swamp would be easily detected since the water level was on the decline, allowing the muck beneath its much needed exposure.
Reeds ticked her back. She paid them no heed. Nearby. She could heard a piece of shrapnel screaming as it was pulled down into the soils with a tremendous whump! The others doubtlessly heard it as well. Shade made a point of keeping silent. Any sounds must be heard, for they needed time to prepare if said sounds were in any way suspicious.

Something pawed at her arm anxiously. Shade allowed herself to tense up, if such was possible, she knew that she was already more than tense. Stiff and swollen enough, perhaps, to be considered a corpse. She flicked her eyes to the offending object, and came face to face with Snuggle. The furry little creature let out a yip, which it quickly suppressed, and whispered methane slurred words into her ear. "My Lady, forgive me, but sick as a slug, resting in muck doesn't aid your condition."

Her temper flared. "You dare call me weak, healer?"
"No, My Lady." Snuggle appeased. "I merely believe you should rest on this rock, rather than this." She tentatively pointed at the muddy soil.

It would indeed by more comfortable. Perhaps the diminutive healer was correct. Being certain of her balance, Shade groped herself up onto a fair-sized boulder that had most likely rolled here long ago. How or why, she did not care. The rock's hardness felt good, and she allowed her bones to stretch, relieving their tension. Snuggle slid onto the rock after her. "Would you allow me?"

She frowned. Complaining would serve no useful purpose, but allowing the healer to treat her body would enable her some much needed comfort. An able warrior was better at fending off attacks, she reasoned. With a nod, she drew her closer.

Snuggle lightly probed at her body in several areas. Shade allowed her guard to drop slightly, and in some spots the paws touched, she flinched. The pains chewed her muscles again. But Snuggle was gentle, and it was rather pleasurable; her footpads had a soothing, massaging effect that worked every stress out. The thick, arctic fur felt warm against her skin, helping to relieve some of the problems with lack of heat. Despite this, her throat felt raw, as if it was being ripped apart by countless flesh eating insects crawling into her body through her mouth. She did not speak of this to Snuggle. Weakness was not a trait to be desired among a leader, so she kept to herself what was not already obvious. It was not long before she heard Snuggle rummaging through her pack, and speaking slightly high-pitched words.
"Drink this." She held up a small sponge sack that looked as if it was made to camouflage into whatever was around it. Perfect for a patrol, she mused. These items had been used by military forces under her command for some time, never in such conditions however. She made a mental note to recall this when she next began to research military improvements.
Gingerly Shade pushed herself upward, biting her lip as her ribs ground together. With a relatively strong swing she downed the entire concoction and let it burn down her throat. Groaning in a sense of relief, she hoped it was quiet enough that none other than Snuggle might hear it. "Go now, worm. Your task is done."

Snuggle bowed low and shuffled away, leaving her in a world stirred only by the shuffling of the Torra sentries, and the occasional meteorite from her burning fleet. The fleet she'd commanded for three years, now dust in some cosmic wind. Her heart felt a momentary space. But she knew there was no point in dwelling on it. Retreat, regroup and rebuild. She reminded herself. Never with all the knowledge of every past historian could she have foreseen this. With an ironic smile, she recounted another adage. "Expect the unexpected, indeed."

And at any time, she expected Tras'Lok and his men to return. They returned, only with more urgency than was probable.

Kodos growled and stood, placing an arm on his fuel-rod. Urien sniffed the air. "The Master is back, My Lady."
"How far, Quizal?"
"One half human miles, no more."

She closed her eyes, and concentrated, extending her senses as far as possible with the aid of the magic in her body. Two sets of cloven hooves were running lightly across the ground, stopping occasionally to deliver a burst of plasma behind them. Trouble. No sooner had she opened her eyes than Tras burst into their camp, breathing hard. With wide eyes and stressed features, he gave a controlled shout. "Run! They're right behind us!"

Behind them? Who was behind them?
She paused for a split second, and nodded when she realized who he was speaking of. The Aliens, the ones who'd destroyed her fleet. Something in the back of her mind told her that bloodshed was the right answer, but she easily suppressed such a weak urge and brought her mind just where it needed to be. Just like she was commanding an assault on an enemy. Her forces were in no shape to resist any kind of organized enemy, and neither was she. Although she disliked admitting it, there were clear indications of injury and sickness, no matter how much she denied their presence. The only logical option was to take flight.

At first she tried to push herself up, then discounted such a useless idea when her head swam and her ribs flared, banishing most of the air in her lungs. Her sore throat was gone, Shade knew that this was an indication of future troubles when something invisible, yet clearly present, scythed straight up the center of the camp and detonated far off. "Tras'Lok, take the others and find the index. I will... delay our pursuers." She spoke as smoothly, as clearly as was possible.

"My Lady?" He was somewhat hesitant, he used this time to insert another power core into his rifle. The others laid down covering fire.

"Go!" She laid her voice with firmer intensity. They treated her words like an executioner's command, and broke into a dead run away from the enemy, fading like a storm wind into the trees. Abruptly the incoming fire ceased. It hadn't been entirely accurate to begin with, but she didn't mind less harmful projectiles in the air. More room for her troops to crawl. Shade cast her gaze toward the incoming creatures.

They wore black suits, somewhat reminiscent of human ballistic armor, only without the titanium plating. Masks that absorbed most surrounding light to prevent a glinting effect covered them, shaped as if they were animal heads. Immediately she recognized wolves. Fearsome, pack-minded predators. More startling was in the way they moved. A true family, throwing everything they had into battle. No wasted motions, aggressive jerks, or fearful gander. Relaxed and comfortable was the immediate impression she received, but the matter-of-fact hand gestures suggested contrary.
She tasted salt on her tongue, and hoped on whichever presence was watching she could be invisible for just five seconds. Alas, naught. The beam passing over her body caused a slight stinging feeling in her muscles. Finding out the best way to finish her off.

"Its one of us..." She heard the scanning creature mutter... in human speech?
Something did not fit here, if humans possessed this kind of technology, the Covenant as a whole would be completely defenseless.

"She's awake." Another stated. Shade could hear the distinct sound of a weapon powering up, readying itself to fire. The hairs on her neck raised. Her heartbeat, she noted, had just increased in speed.

"Don't move a muscle, kid. Not like you could." Another joked rather lightly as he walked closer and closer. There was some quiet shuffling when he stopped. Shade opened her eyes. There could be no more than seven present, she was certain. She could defeat such a small number. Discreetly, she began to move her fingers-

-CRACK!-

The butt of a rifle smashed into her hand, forcing a pitiful yelp from her lips. "You will pay in blood, human." She choked. This promise, she intended to keep. They were observant, she would need to be more careful next time. There will be a next time.

He seemed to chuckle slightly, tapping something on the back of his helmet. The garment folded like liquid mercury blankets joined by strings, into his cloth armor. His eyes regarded her with a kind of gentle acceptance that hinted at an unseen cleverness. "So, it speaks after all. Human, am I?" He laughed again. "Look around you."

Not seeing any other option, she did. Suffice it to say, there were more than seven. Everywhere she looked, weapons were either trained toward the surrounding foliage, or her. All fifty of them. She swore in the Covenant tongue, and soon after realized her mistake. He hit her with his rifle again, cracking her neck. Her ears began to ring. Stunned, she mumbled her question. "Where am I?" Her senses caught up later.
His gloved fingers jerked her face upward to look at his own. His eyes were no longer gentle, but narrow, angry flames. He wiped her cheek, and presented the contents to her sight. If there is a next time.

"Murderer. These are you tears. This is your blood." Had she been crying?
She did not remember crying. Or bleeding. Could not feel any coldness or hotness on her skin, other than the man's breath. "This is how I see it. You need me, and I need you."

She was about to swear, about to deny, when he jammed his weapon into her ribs, eliciting another yelp- a scream of pain -and finally, for one blissful eternity, relented. Gasping, she decided it better to keep silent. Time to try another approach, else death was a very likely conclusion. She had been taught how to endure, and knew great pain. But Shade knew not if she could resist these creatures, despite all her training. They seemed to know a great deal.

"You are sick. Injured and without care will eventually die. You will tell me everything there is to know about your presence on this installation. If you co-operate, we heal one piece of your ailments. If you refuse my questionings... we will break something else."

He smiled cheerfully; his eyes told her he was anything but happy. "Understood?"
Shade did not answer him.
He nudged her ribs. This time, she managed not to scream or otherwise show any visible emotion. But the intention was clear. He still wore that same cheerful, condemning expression. "I understand." Shade whispered.

"Nice to meet you too. Jaeden'Seul." He bowed. "Now, how would you like to go for a ride?"

Rebirth - Meeting in the Dark
Date: 14 June 2004, 5:15 AM

At the end of the road there were Five very tired Covenant, tired because they'd just run four miles dodging artillery shells. Weapon raised as he entered the structure, Mikka Masanee' watched his area of responsibility- the direction he was assigned to cover in their little formation -with a vigilance brought only be extreme self-conditioning. His muscles felt warm, tingly with light perspiration, which made his body suit feel clammy. Naturally he ignored his discomfort, keeping his posture tense.
Outside, the frigid night air was warming up. Sunrise approached.

Truthfully he was just glad to be in shelter. Ahead he could hear Urien, Snuggle and Kodos discussing whatever it was a Hari-Key, Quizal and Hunter discussed. He chose not to let his worries flow out, they did not need to trouble anyone else. Dwelling on the lives lost above could only hinder his ability to think clearly. After walking for what seemed like an eternity, the low hum of the maglev lift shocked him. His gut lulled as the lift descended. Another three minutes passed and it had not stopped, so Mikka stared off into space. There were periodic flashes of light from fixtures on the shaft wall, but they did not last long, and he would rather have not experienced them at all.
The little star-spots as a cruiser core exploded. He replayed this image over and over every time he saw a light. Eventually, he could stand it no longer, and was about to ask how long they'd been standing doing nothing when Snuggle thumped him on the knee.

"Pay attention!" His leg throbbed after that, she was quite strong for her size. He did nothing in retaliation, he had deserved it. He should have been awake and alert. He would not make the same mistake again.
Gripping his rifle and setting his jaw firm, he asked the question which had been eating at him for minutes now. "How long have we been going down?"

Tras'Lok angled a furtive glance his way. "Twenty minutes, warrior."
"Twenty minutes my Lord?"
"Twenty minutes." He repeated in identical tone and timing.

That sum could not possibly elapsed! Time could not go so fast, yet seem so unbearably slow! It was sacrilege! Smiling inwardly, his current troubles at least temporarily forgotten, he realized just how completely prophetic his thoughts had just sounded.

"We left the Lady approximately fifty minutes ago, then." Snuggle chirped in her methane-cheered voice. "I hope she is well." Mikka didn't know what to think. Shade was their leader, a skilled general and fleet commander. He respected her, but did not personally know her. Therefore he did not pass any conviction. Urien the Quizal Messenger turned Scout on the other hand, was less obligated to morals.

"How do you gratify such a creature, Snuggle?" She growled, waving her arms wide in a shrug. "She is the blight that corrupts our people!" Faster than Mikka could see, the hand of Tras'Lok had made its mark, whipping out from nowhere in particular and piercing deep into an open joint.

"That blight saved your life, Urien." Tras'Lok spoke evenly, barely concealed emotion edging his voice. "You would do well to remember that." Not much in the way of conversation happened after this exchange, everyone seemed, to Mikka, wishing to avoid the ire of their superior. He could not blame them.

In order to pass the time, he recounted the events that had led them to the point they were currently at, picking them apart in his mind. First they had dropped from the Uzumri, Shade's flagship, into orbit. The use of the initial confusion of opening combat had worked to their advantage, as the Lady had said it would. They were able to land and disembark without incident. Following that, a long and boring march to the camp, where the Lady had begun to show signs of sickness and worsening condition. After a brief treatment with Snuggle, they were on their way again- only with one less. An alien patrol had intercepted them, killing one of their number before he even reached camp. The Lady had remained behind to delay their advance. Unfortunately, that had not been the end of affairs. Mortar shells tore up the landscape when the aliens had realized there were still more threats to them lurking about the swamp. Two more of their companions had died in the inferno.

That left them to finding the structure they were presently inside, searching for the index. It seemed odd that the Lady had originally trusted only herself to retrieve the device and ended up being captured, even killed in an effort to locate it. This probably only solidified Tras'Lok's resolve to lead them in the search. Her choice must have been logical after all, he realized. If not able to take it yourself, use the one you trust the most.
He heard the distinct release of pressurized gasses, and his gut was no longer so uncomfortable with its insides. "We've stopped." He heard himself mutter. Feeling their way around on practiced drill, they arranged themselves into a rough circle. Snuggle, with her back to him, rasped out a sentence that would amuse him for a few minutes, at least.

"It sure is dark down here. Knowing my luck, nothing is going to work."
"Do not become so pessimistic." Mikka replied. Hopefully that would reassure her at least slightly. He knew the drawbacks of being on edge, and didn't want anyone else to suffer through them. He vividly recalled his training, how undisciplined and anxious he had been.

Dark indeed. He flicked on his helmet lights. After once second, nothing happened.
Two seconds.
Still nothing.

The gravelly, bass voice of the normally quiet, dignified Kodos cut through any composure he could wear. It made him jump slightly, but the Hunter set a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he spoke. "My illumination instruments are not functioning correctly."

No one needed any more direct lessons to know what was going on.

"Join hands. We shall grope our way through this place as children in a chain." Tras'Lok stomped a foot in determination. "Away, that which deters us! No simple malfunction would ever dampen the Doomharrow!"
If anything ever shook the Arms-Master, he knew it not.

And so they fumbled around in what was a black hole for hours on end; Tras'Lok leading, the rest following. Occasionally Snuggle would make a cheery or humorous comment that would assist everyone's spirit, and Mikka found himself happier in her company every moment.
When the light of - something -finally did come, it was as sudden as it was blinding. Their tiny little party tripped over one another as it navigated to the door. Mikka was most displeased to find himself entangled with the massive Kodos, who took their fall with a respectful silence. Evidently, he disliked the close proximity as Mikka did, because he was on his feet and moving away almost instantly.

Mikka, after a few breaths, saw his vision sharpen and clarify. What greeted him were the dropped jaws of everyone he could see. "What is the matter-

"Shh!" Urien snapped. He couldn't help himself. He really, really couldn't. And even if he could have, would he have?

"Ah." He blinked. "That. I see. How do you propose we bypass this... minor problem?" Yes, the room did have light, and yes it was spacious enough to fit their combined bulk a hundred times over. There was no complaining about a dull view; there were holographic star systems- perhaps slipspace charts -all within an impressive domed roof. Colorations had been done dynamically, allowing both walls and floor an interesting glassy shimmer that reflected countless blinking lights. A control interface, arranged in a crescent, had been placed against the wall. All was quiet. Quiet for now, at least.
All along any wall not occupied by computers, holographic technology, or whatever else one could think up, were clear glass tubes. Inside each glass tube small parasite infection forms slept, subconsciously daring unwary passerby to make some wrong move. They did not number in small groups, but one hundred every three rows. Up, and up, and up the tubes went, until they disappeared into the solid blackness above. Occasionally he could hear them breathing, as if they had teeth in their pussy little throats.

Wheeze.

Whistle.

Wheeze.

Whistle.


Surprisingly, it was Snuggle who answered. "Umm..." She considered her new predicament, and came to a conclusion so fast she shouted with glee. "Do nothing stupid, and there'll be no problems!"

"Silence!" Tras'Lok roared.

"Quiet, both of you!" Urien was quick to retort in spite of herself.

He saw Kodos cross his arms, puffing up, obviously trying to look as menacing as possible. The Hunter managed his own verbal communication in a grave, reasonably hushed tone. "Do not speak loudly."
Mikka whipped his head from one companion to another. He couldn't figure out which one was going to break the stalemate, or whether they would let it drop like sensible, civilized people so they could get on with the mission. As he expected, Tras'Lok immediately backed down, scanning his surroundings. Urien shook her head, grumbling to herself. The loose screw, he feared, would be their resident Healer.

Naturally, he was right.

Shaking, Snuggle opened her mouth to submit in a blind fury to pride. Luckily for her, he already had his hand around her methane breather. It would do no good to have them losing the Hari-Key in such disputes as this. The most obvious reason was that they would lack a suitably trained individual to patch up possible wounds not if, but when, they happened.
Cautiously, he removed his hand, and exhaled a sigh, relieved.

"eep." Snuggle chirped. This tiny, seemingly insignificant high-pitched sound wave was all the thin glass needed to crack, which in itself really wasn't too much trouble. Flood were, however. And when they smelled food and oxygen, they resisted not the pull that followed. One by one they awoke, century old muscles alive and ticking flawlessly. Their fleshy, muscular mushroomed heads snapped against their tiny prisons with the force of a battering ram. Already, some where falling downward.
They were breaking free.

"You've gotta' be kidding me!" The Hari-Key's eyes bulged.
He looked toward Kodos, who was staring accusingly at the Healer. "Run. For your lives and more, Run!" With this command released, he did so. Behind, he could hear several different strides keeping pace. Sometimes, when you run fast enough, hard enough, your heart, your soul, flutter free of their mortal cages and the wind just stops resisting. Now, spurred on by fear, was one of those times.

Every factor should have chained him down. Impossibly, he made fifty whole meters before he realized they were all alive and kicking. He turned around to see if this was so; the motion slowed him down, allowing three infection forms to leap into the air. He did not have enough time to execute any dodge. Today would be his death day.

He then thought it strange that although he had no time to move, the iron-fist of Kodos banished the deadly little creatures in a disgusting splash of green rather spectacularly. He must have done this before. In the same motion, his arm wrapped Mikka in a tight grip about the waist. He did not stop running, or even diminish speed because of the extra weight. He could not be seen as useless. Desperately he concocted an action, and shaking with a locked, tensed body, he drew his Needler up with one hand and depressed the trigger. Razor-sharp pink crystals sliced passed one of his friends and gored into the pursuing horde, exploding in gruesome finales. This bought time enough for Snuggle to clamber onto Kodos's back, and howl uncontrollable sobs as the Hunter, most certainly agile for his size, tried to carry two dumbstruck warriors to safety.
Suddenly, he was free. Kodos had released him. Unprepared, he dropped to the floor, but found himself able to push up on his hands and smack an airborne flood back at its creator, hopefully some unmentionable hell. He watched Kodos and Snuggle dart through the now open, hopefully thick door, and followed. Behind, he could hear Urien's soft, padded feet, and Tras'Lok in his heavy armor. Both had turned to face the newest threat. Shield activated, pistol blazing. The Quizal had enough sense to keep her distance from the Arms-Master, who held two swords in either hand, swinging them in precise arcs that he saw as little more than blurs. With each successive attack he would turn his body, move his legs and hooves in some way to compliment both his current defense, and future attack.
Mikka glanced at his belt, and noticed something he hadn't noticed before. He pressed his back against the wall and turned to the others.

"How much would it take to collapse that support beam?" His voice was oddly calm, which was to his satisfaction. He smiled inside. Perhaps he wasn't such a coward after all.
Snuggle was gasping, but she managed a reply. "I've got no idea. Do whatever you do fast." She wasn't exactly serene, but she had enough control to act sanely.

He glanced at Kodos, who nodded. They were agreed, this was the only survivable option. By now, Tras'Lok and Urien had backed through the doorway and were desperately fighting off whatever came their way. Instinctively he shuffled back, and primed the grenade. "Explosives out!" It was best to warn everyone before you threw a grenade, otherwise he supposed he would unintentionally blow someone's ear drums out, since they didn't have time to cover up.

Tras'Lok deactivated his swords and rolled away, while Urien crouched at the corner, protecting them from any stray shrapnel or plasma gobs with her shield. Everyone was covered.

He nearly laughed out a battle cry. He felt important. Needed. Really, it felt good. He leaned across the corner, and executed an underhand toss that carried the grenade into the air. It sailed leisurely upward and hung at its pinnacle for a moment, then cane crashing down, and exploded.

Hairline fractures were first to appear, then full out twisting breaks in the mineral used to construct the thing. Then it simply broke in half and dropped to the ground, crushing several flood. Supporting beams breaking only brought bad things. Beneath his feet, the floor was shaking. Pebbles fell from the roof as he watched his maneuver succeed. First came walls, then any flood crushed under what came after shattered like glass, dying with pitiful squeals and popping when their gas sacs emptied.
Nothing with any man-sized mass could've survived that.
Sighing, Mikka slid downward and sat. Rubble was dropping through the doorway and coming to a rest. Snuggle coughed, then sneezed.

None of them really wanted to admit how close that had been.
Far off, an alarm was beeping. What was...

He shook his head. He must have been hearing things, combat was brutal enough, but was he going insane? Surely not. The beeping increased in intensity. Nope, definitely not hearing things.

"Beep. Beep, beep?" Snuggle asked herself. "Why are there alarms beeping?"

"Because." Urien rolled her eyes. "We released those flood, didn't we?" Mikka frowned. That damn Quizal had her head up in the clouds, she treated Snuggle as if she was dirt. He hated that. If it continued, he reminded himself to stop it. The alarm kept beeping.
"Perhaps we broke something."


They were just relieving tension, Mikka reminded himself. Despite what was generally perceived, combat was neither easy or enjoyable. It taxed on even the Arms-Master, whose muscles were shaking with adrenaline. He could hear his breath, controlled and even, as if he was in meditation. He was trying to keep himself under control, resisting the temptation to brag. Mikka had felt that very same pull many times, and succumbed. He admired his control.

"Well I hope not. Just the same I'm glad we're all safe." Snuggle lowered her head.
Flesh pounded against metal then, and judging by the numerous sounds that followed, it was crashing passed anything that stood in its way.

Instinctively, he fed another pink crystal into his needler and crouched near the door. He heard the distinctive hum of plasma blades activating.

"Ready." Tras'Lok nodded, seemingly to indicate that Mikka was the leader in this particular instance. He didn't know how it happened, but he realized the significance and immediately relaxed.

"Away from the wall." He told his friends this out of simple logic. Not quite an order and not a suggestion either. If it was going to smash through everything, it wouldn't do to be right against whatever it was breaking apart. The thing came sooner than he expected, and not quite as head on as he'd believed. A curious finger poked the air as it slid into the door, pushing the rubble away as easily as a vapor sac. Perhaps because the finger was ten times the size of that rubble, or perhaps just because the rubble was incredibly light compared to the actual strength of the appendage.

Either way, he could tell it was trouble. The finger nail brushed against his arm. So he stabbed it.

Then he broke the needle tips off.

The needles inside the nerveless limb began glowing. The thing could probably feel that mild sensation. Probably.

But what was REALLY going to hurt was when they exploded.


When the finally did what they were supposed to, the limb retracted. All was quiet for upside of two minutes, during which time no one dared breathe. Mikka considered his options. Had it been the mere warning of the armored shell that scared the predator off?
His question was dispelled when a deafening challenge rocked the very foundations of the ground on which he stood.


RRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOAAARRRRRRRRGGGHHH!


Kodos did something very unlike Kodos. "Uh-oh."

The beast's massive arm beat the wall like a hammer on a gong, all it took was one hit for the oversized fist to puncture the metals and end up in the hallway where they crouched, children cowering from an angry father. Its fingers grasped the Hunter, not too lightly, but none too softly either. It hoisted him up, and let him hang airborne, supported by flesh and tendons and bone.
For Mikka, time stood still

Its thickly built skull was apish in appearance, sitting on a neck that was part of its shoulders, if it even had one. There was at one time fur covering the body, however, that had given way to a sickly, rock hard green mineral. The eyes were sunken into its head, and they glowed an odd black, radiating a light that seemed to run light years from nowhere in particular to get where it was. Its muzzle, distinctively canine, ended in a tapered point that curved down into a horn used for ripping things with hard shells apart. Things like Kodos. An open mouth, colored unhealthily green in the gums, expelled hot putrid gasps, moisture and ammonia clinging to everything in their wake. Yellow teeth chiseled out of meat hooks dominated a forked reptilian tongue, which flicked ungracefully about. Its finger nails looked normal enough. But that was only if you discounted the fact that they had eyes of their own, which glanced in no particular direction. The fingers that these appendages were attached to looked as if they were made for grasping things or climbing.

The beast sniffed the air- a gross, superhuman sucking wail -and sneezed (spat, depending on whether you were man sized or not). Ammonia flowered the air, and it threw Kodos down into the opposite wall with enough force to crack a large building in half. As Mikka watched, he saw Kodos actually make an indentation where he hit. Not faint, but large enough that Snuggle and Urien needed to pull him out so he could move again, even if it was just to breathe and scream for mercy.

Its hands swiped again, and Mikka dove back.

Whoosh!

There was a time when he would stop and say 'Gods, that just missed me', all he could manage however was to balk in anger when they ripped his needler apart. He would need to be more careful if he expected to survive, but how could they dispel such a creature?
It was fast!

Whoosh!

Another claw swipe had just grazed him by a hair. These were playful swipes, just meant to annoy. To poke or prod in sensitive places and make him meow. He gazed upward, and saw the attack at just the right moment. Both hands were being propelled down by meaty arms, which rippled with prehistoric muscles. Tendons pulsed, and Mikka carried himself into a summersault.

WhooshWHOOSH!

Veins bulged. Those troublesome hands smashed into the floor, and when they started upward again, he noted the hand-shaped craters in the floor. It was most assuredly strong. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Tras'Lok was making his move. Perhaps the only flaw he could see in this creature's attack pattern was that it had lowered its head to the floor. Angry father hitting his children indeed.

Mighty Tras'Lok leapt, swimming through stale air with all efforts of a fish in water. His armor-cased hulk was more than enough to give even this thing pause, however, this was not all Mikka believed the Arms-Master had in mind. One sword, carried by his momentum, drove itself into the thing's forehead, sank to the guard, and remained firmly in place. He marveled out how the thing seemed to remain there, despite his comrade's weight. Serene, content with what was happening, he propelled his other arm in its course, carving deep slices of its face. Over and over again.
It cried out several times as its eyes were destroyed, but Mikka paid those no attention, rising with battle's flow, he too leapt upward, and tried to grab a hold of its oversized shoulder, but his hands slipped. He slid downward, destined to fall. Physics applied themselves, he howled in frustration, and clawed and clawed.

With a horrendous tear he slowed, his hands whipped out. He caught... something.

He couldn't tell where he was going, but he could tell that it was trying to rip Tras'Lok off its face. That intention wasn't much good, every time it tried, it would shred its own skin. He heard a throaty laugh.

This creature may have been 'Father beating his children,' but these children had sharp, pointy things. And they HURT like HELL.

His brief dizzy spell eventually ceased, so he used his opportunity to begin clambering up the creature's arm, minding when its muscles trembled. The sickening audio of plasma blades striking flesh and bone had echoed off into history's library. He dug his claws in. Climbed. From his new vantage point, he could see nearly everything that had occurred. Maintaining his balance wasn't so difficult anymore, the creature had stopped moving and was... sobbing?
Acidic tears burned vehicle sized holes in the floor, and brought an unpleasant smell with them. Snuggle, Urien and Kodos had backed off a suitable distance, and were charging their weapons, the Hunter leaning heavily on his shield. Tras'Lok seemed dazed, slumped against a wall, single remaining sword in hand. Its hand was lamely advancing toward him. Mikka let in a sharp breath, did not exhale. What could he do?

If he did nothing, they would be crushed one after another with little hope. After two successive volleys, simple plasma bolts had only superficial effects. The real killers were Tras'Lok's infinitely useful pair of plasma swords. But those were useless without a wielder. In moments, he would be doomed if he could not move. "My Lord, arise! Arise! You will be killed, surely!" Thus was his desperate plea, doomed for deaf ears, muted groans. Bleary, uncomprehending eyes.
Something called out to him, demanded his attention. So he turned, and fell as his mount shambled beneath him. The azure star of the sword was still, waiting. Still buried in the foe it had so faithfully assailed. There!
His mind commanded of him what must be done. "I cannot wield you, you are not mine." His mental voice replied. But it was confident, undaunted. Take me. Use me! I am as much yours as that of any warrior.

In this moment, he had grown his own fate.
His sliding form stopped, force to counter-force, and slid off the top of the creature's head. In his right hand, a blazing plasma sword. "On my honor, step no more." He clenched his jaws, whispering solemn vow, ripping the weapon free and pulling himself up with his free hand, adrenaline flowing, back arched in preparation as the creature finally closed with Tras'Lok.

"Thus far, no further!" Down the blade went, propelled by muscles in a rage induced stupor, driving deep, blade tip connecting with brain. He began to do what should not be done such noble weapons- he sawed.
If it noticed, it gave no indication until its intended prey pushed off the wall, growling in challenge. Suddenly, everything became crystal clear.
Mikka could feel his blood coursing through his self, his heartbeat pounding at his ears.

Thump, Thump. Thump, Thump.

The Arms-Master had been feigning unconsciousness so as to catch the beast unawares, allowing him to attack at the opportune moment. Allowing Mikka to gain an advantage as well. Below, a warrior did battle with his enemy, blade twisting an weaving, fending off assaults that had felled thousands millennia ago. His body fatigued, his spirit burning strong. Toes and fingers separated from their host bodies, causing their owner to stumble.
Above, another warrior hacked a hole into a surprisingly resistant skull, faithful, hoping.

The creature began to show its first signs of fatigue. "It is succeeding," Tras'Lok was calm, if slightly giddy. "Assail this abomination with everything you are capable!"

Unanimous, the ranged specialists released their bolts, aimed for what was already broken, and enjoyed results that would have put any marksman in envy. The combined forces of three separate gobs of superheated plasma were enough to burn a hole all the way to the other side. With a sigh, the thing relaxed, and Mikka, having lost his footing, felt firsthand the indignities of a fall some distance above very hard flooring. He would not live to see day's end. Again the sword proved useful, for it caught its hold on the creature's throat, and slowed his fall. What might have been amusing, had you not witnessed the climax first-hand, was that as the sword fell, it tore a massive laceration down its front, gutting it near from head to crotch. He landed with a painful crack, and screamed. Am I doomed to failure in this manner forever?

The little crawling sensations he felt up and down his arm annoyed him, he could not feel his wrist or his hand. But his bones were impossibly aware. All too knowledgeable in their self-proclaimed orgasm of hurt. Sparing itself the indignity of falling face first, it stumbled back despite the forces which had acted against it, and fall on its back, heaving another death sigh. Overlapping that, Mikka felt tears in his eyes, and found it difficult to breathe. "My arm. Gods aid my soul, my arm is not-
An aching torrent ground his resolve away.

Fortunately, Snuggle was present. "Hush, you big baby." She set herself to work.
"I do not relish being called- ouch -a-
"Get ready."
It occurred to him that she was merely trying to keep his mind off his injury, more likely injuries, by engaging in pointless prattle. That was fine by him. Honor and duty be damned, he wanted this torture's end. Expertly, she snapped something back into place, and bound his arm.

"Don't be moving that, Mikka Masanee'."

Urien strolled purposefully on then, and 'accidentally' slapped the little healer on the back of the head. "Don't be moving that, Mikka Masanee'." She imitated the Hari-key's high-pitch. That was enough. He had grown tired of such provoking behavior. In short, he was tired, and about to rip the Quizal's head off.

"Quizal." He did not speak loudly, merely evenly. Like Kodos. "You will change your tone. Racism is not becoming of one in your position. If you do not stop such blatantly hostile behavior, I will gouge your eyes out with an eating utensil."

She did not respond, but scoffed and walked toward Tras'Lok, who watched impassively, yet hid a disapproving frown for any sort of conflict. Mikka sensed that he would not deign to waste words on an occasion as tense as this. His caretaker was smiling behind her mask, eyes full with gratitude. He patted her head with his good hand. He could not understand why she was so thankful, would not have anyone stood and defended the oppressed?
Their affectionate moment did not last all too long. Kodos lumbered toward them, and offered his hands, breathing heavily. They both accepted, and soon three were standing aside two, and all the closer for it.

"We must continue." Mikka voiced his thoughts with some hesitation. "There is no telling what follows in wake of the hole that creature has created." In agreement, they each picked up what was left of their bodies, and gimped away on each other's shoulders.

With Tras'Lok and Urien some distance ahead already, apparently having no trouble with the exertions that nipped their heels. Unknown to any, the creature's flesh began to knit back together, biding its time. Waiting. Waiting for sake of an adapted stratagem. Waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Rebirth - The Game Begins
Date: 28 July 2004, 10:50 PM

Sleek, agile, invisible.
It scored an awesome blue-white luminosity across the skies, wiping painted tears on a black palate. If higher beings were to place a square to the flight path, they'd find it moving at ninety degrees. Before it banked sharply to the left and raised its nose to soar upward, that is. This craft was incredible, sporting organic curves, blending seamlessly into industrial lines, could grow vehicle mounted weapons from any desirable place. One had been flown near a very lucky Spartan called Michael Sheener not so long ago. But all any interested scholar would really need to know could be condensed into six words.
Armored and shielded, sharpened and ready.
Designation: Forerunner Assault Transport.

From a floating stretcher, she felt the slight change in direction, and ground her teeth together to stop herself from groaning. The aliens had applied pain-reducing substances to her body, though they did not completely erase the sensation. Reluctantly, almost subconsciously, she was forced to admit that she felt no better than an incapable herbivore, trapped in a truly unfathomable, inescapable corner. Cut off from everything she knew, she was only able to cling to her own repeated insistences that she simply existed, and that all would turn for betterment by end's meet. Her barely conscious sense of rational thought knew otherwise. Knew that there was no other outcome but pain. Death. She was nothing but a... murderer?
She was an honor-lost killer deserving only to be used by others and discarded.
No, she would not accept such treatment. She could not.
Warily, her eyes opened. It wasn't as if she wished them to do so, yet this was their own volition. They forced her to accept her fate, to see the truth. Around her view, although she could not see far, were cold, hard metallic masks. Behind those were, doubtlessly, hard, focused eyes. The one she recognized as Jaeden'Seul stared at her with a keen fire veiled in his features, apparently satisfied with his belief that she would die. He did not strike her as a man who was easily satisfied. She did not feel any easier. Life was never meant to be easy. She admonished. If she brought herself into a state where she had been placed in a battlefield, she discovered that she felt more at ease. Defeat is unacceptable. Her lips pressed themselves into a thin line, fixed in concentration. To win, I have to be strong. I have to be nothing less than what I have always aspired to be. Myself.
Her muscles tensed, her eyes caught a certain light. As a stray band of it flashed over her face, the silver flakes within her emerald pair sparkled in predatory freedom. If she was afraid, she could not gain the upper hand or the leverage she needed to survive. Jaeden locked his eyes with hers. She tried to draw on an inner strength she had known for nearly all her life, to rip the very soul out of his body. But she found her own expanse mirrored and reflected back at her passionate self.
Phased, her eyes widened.
His mouth twitched in triumph.
She would not let him win. If only she knew how to defeat him; she-
Ah, but she did.
Casually, deliberately, almost childishly, her eyes pooled and rippled with false light. Maybe it was just the odd shadows now cast over her face as the small craft entered a cozy docking bay reserved exclusively for this ship. Or perhaps it was the odd production of her pupils as all the light of life, of innocence, faded from them. Her enemy maintained his gaze, keeping it level, though this effort did not prevail. He knew she had won, as did she. Only when she noted her opponent's failing, she did not smile. Instead she intensified her focus without even thinking of doing it, moving off simple in-bred knowledge. Her vocal chords rumbled slightly, playing with a low, almost sensuous growl. An intimate praise that spoke for itself. He quickly found a place on the wall behind her to look at, adjusting his head. She could smell perspiration in the air. His heartbeat had jumped slightly. Was he afraid?

Before she could analyze the situation any further, the transport glided smoothly to a stop. It slowed so subtly in fact, that she almost hadn't noticed at all. Her captors were quick to disembark. No one bothered to retrieve her for a few minutes, at least. Occasionally she would catch snippets of muted conversation. They had not forgotten about her, this much was clear. Shade felt an urge to call out for someone, to request the presence of some tangible foe. Dead silence could not be beaten. There was no alternative but stalemate. When a change in the air prompted her to the arrival of another presence, she almost grimaced with spontaneous joy. When he began his entrance, she would regret such a naïve emotion. Simply stated, he radiated an aura that was calm, and commanding with an iron-fist of honed leadership. Mortal evil in its self-proclaimed purity.
"I'm telling you, Syidu, she's a clever, manipulative little thing."

Shade did not think herself so, but she did feel that what she believed was irrelevant to what they believed.

"At first I figured she'd be as vulnerable as a pup in an egg, but when she looked at me, right through me, it felt like it was you staring at me, your fingers slightly tensed with a knife in hand. Frankly, it scared the hell out of me."

The other speaker's voice was rich and pleasing to hear, melodious, just like her own. Musical to its very core, yet refined and precise.

"Jaeden, perhaps you'd like to go outside."

With a gulp, her initial keeper plodded away, leaving her alone with his apparent commanding officer. She sniffed. Nothing was any clearer, he was clean of any displeasing smells, in fact brushing off as a sort of white flower carried across the rising vent of an open flame. When he stood at her side, his eyes were directed at her not in any single point, but everywhere, roaming and undaunted. He was a predator inspecting his kill in its final moments, a predator who said to its defenseless meal...

Something to the effect of 'this will be painful for you. And very filling for me.'

Initially she suspected it was desire that drove him, she knew she was wrong. He was a man who analyzed everything much as she did. Weighting, timing, reviewing. Sprinkling a little seasoning into his strategic soup at just the right moment.

"Hello," was all he offered, pivoting, lazily tossing his hand out and seizing a metallic triangle with grips.

Two ramrod straight pins no more than two inches in length presented themselves for inspection, part of the triangle but no less distinguished in their own right. He squeezed his instrument, and two viscous red droplets spurted from the needles. He nodded, serious in nature, grim even. Taking two steps, his arm extended, he was aside her again.
Was he going to stick those into...

"What do you intend?" she questioned, slightly more anxiously than she had wished.
"Just a dose of nano-machines. I can't talk to an unhealthy person, can I?"

His posture told her everything she needed to know. His demeanor was that of a wise mentor, perhaps even a father speaking to his ignorant child. The cold slickness invaded her flesh and withdrew again before she might even flinch, tender, strangely accurate. Its wielder had known what he wanted, only going so far as to achieve it before dropping any action. Her breath issued in a relieved sigh.

"Now that we're over such trivial introductions, my dear, we shall have a civilized conversation."

Shade found herself frowning, pushing up against her restraints. His breath was like sour lilies.

"I implore you, old man; find your point quickly."

Oddly enough, he laughed.

"You are just as I imagined you'd be. Brief, concise, right to the heart of the matter and only beating around the bush when you don't know the answer. In all honesty, dear girl, I am no old man. Truth be told, I am yet young. Not so young as I once was, but young enough. You should barely be out of your egg, and here you are. Indeed, the universe is an odd one."

He shook his head.

"My executive officer, Jaeden, doesn't have much affection for you."

She supposed he seemed almost cordial. He seemed to be in a good mood, at peace with himself. He continued.

"I think out of respect, my clever opponent, I will offer you a deal. I am not without a heart. Despite your obvious shortcomings, the formations of your vessels, and the casualty ratio, you did well."

He has come so that he might lecture me? Suddenly, she felt not small and meaningless, but rather childish and inexperienced, much as a girl felt while being admonished for taking too much dessert from the general supplier's shelves.
The air wasn't stale on her skin; it was welcoming and comfortable. Wherever she was, the environment was carefully watched and regulated to suit the needs of those within it. Her memory rebooted itself and arrived at the most logical conclusion. She was on the alien starship. Now that she was passed this basic stage, she returned her attentions to the situation at hand. What was most disconcerting was that she had expected to be tortured for information, for she understood those situations. This one was almost completely anathema to her. He wanted not war, but peaceful chatter serving no purpose she could understand.
Uncertain, she took another look around the troop bay of the transport shuttle.
Structurally she had seen it before in the human 'Pelican' dropships. The key differences were in the minor features. The benches were elongated to sit more persons, and there were shelves above to stow gear while in transport. Instead of drab black walls there were drab metallic chrome walls, however, there were calligraphy characters scattered about. She lingered on these for a time until she spotted a holographic crystal in the exact center, likely used for mission briefings. He took this opportunity to speak again.

"I offer you your freedom, if you can defeat me in a game of strategy. A game we must surely both know."

She realized only after her hasty agreement that it could virtually be anything, yet her fears were rendered unfounded after he'd explained his little test.
In short order she was up, moving again. When she was at last able to corner him, away from his troops and crewmen, she disregarded her internal alarms and asked a question that could spark her acquaintance into something hopelessly rash.

"Syidu."

The use of his name was pointedly tactical, and her venture appeared to have worked. He turned, raising an eyebrow.

"Why do you treat someone of my composition so?"
"First I would ask-"
"You will answer my question."

Shade marshaled her wits. Heeding impulse first, she realized, was a mistake. His lightning fast reflexes taught her that valuable lesson. Her narrowing eyes taught him that his hand, inches away from striking her, did not frighten her in the least.

He had formerly adopted a hard, angry expression. Now, his demeanor relaxed.

"As you wish. I treat you with civility because it is impolite to treat an equal in any other manner."

She raised an eyebrow, and resumed their stroll at her own pace. Lost on all logical conclusions, she gave up trying to find out why he did it, and decided to allocate more of her mental strengths to finding out how she could use this to her advantage. He seemed much too gracious in her presence, as if he regarded her as a harmless trinket to be placed on his museum shelf.
Harmless trinkets could break, when they did they scattered into a billion pieces, and embedded every last shard so deep into the foot that to attempt to exhume them would be to destroy much of the nervous system. Her metaphor would be accurate, just not in the manner she intended.
Eventually the duo reached a door, a thin opaque membrane with lines of power shooting through it. They were slender, thread-like, and converged on a single point that pooled, rippled with energy. Grey on Grey, and yet they had strange visual substance, almost as if a sheet of foil had been wrapped over a glass pane. She let her eyes brush over the obstacle, turning to find every point where the lines entered walls. At very least scholarship, interesting. To practiced eyes, phenomenal symmetry that seemed equally organic as uniform. Shade let her hand slide along the membrane's shell, following the flows of the currents. Somehow the door opened, melting like an ice cap exposed to plasma during a planet glassing procedure.
When she moved into the newly accessible space, she found herself swallowed in complete darkness. Its effect was not terrible or deadly, merely discomforting. That discomfort bred into innate fear as even her eyes refused to adjust, finding no light with which to use for vision. Was she blind? Was there something out there she could not see or fight, that would kill her in moments? Hiding , waiting for its ambush?
No, there is no creature. I am being paranoid. Call Syidu, he should be about shortly.

"Syidu!" She knew no other name for him, had she not known this one she would have resorted to naming him with a choice insult out of principle. That method could not exactly charm her into his good graces, yet it would have been amusing.
Light broke darkness's reign, perversely warping it into purple-white glow. She could make out the source of that glow immediately, it was a star, the one that the nearby Halo was orbiting. It was present as well. So was rebellious fleet, all pinkish-purple demons in burn sky. Swathed in multiple single-craft escorts, Uzumri waited patiently for any interesting activity. The only vessel not vaguely insectoid in shape. It was in all ways, perfectly resembling a Dragon. An ornate one at that, more like a fine work of art than a warship. It was not its aesthetic appeal that garnered to her, more accurately the destructive potential. For a capitol ship it was massive, easily able to outmaneuver even a scout-vessel, yet outgun the powerful ships sporting plasma lances (more than capable of gutting human vessels stem to stern). Take more punishment than an orbital weapons platform, outlast entire human fleets. Which explained why her chosen Flagship escaped alone, into slipspace, fleeing from the victorious alien cruiser, if it could be named such an understatement. Her eyes blinked once, barely comprehending what they'd just witnessed. Heedless of where she was, Shade let free a gentle command. "Show me again."
The holographic story rewound itself and began anew. The Doomharrow fleet was motionless, unsuspecting. Confident in its security, certain that its recon pickets would detect any incoming threats long before they reached the aging vessels. They would have more than enough time to mobilize. Currently, they waited just beyond the range of the Halo installation, in a station-keeping with it, as it dutifully orbited the purple-yellow star, with its thick clouds of equally purple radiation. She failed to notice the overwhelming presence of the color purple, more focused on what happened next. Missiles unknown in signature and make slammed into cluttered formations, phasing straight out of slipspace. From the shadow of the star, a group of single-ships broke into an incredibly fast run toward a ship she recognized- the Crimson Snows. Little explosions pricked along its surface and finally the cruiser exploded. As per her orders in such a crisis situation, all ships organized themselves into a phalanx-type formation, awaiting the appearance of the human or mainstream Covenant fleet that opposed them. A formation which ensured all vessels, with their modified shield grids, could share the overall damage with one another and fire into their foes to devastating effect. Most of the single-craft disappeared. The weapons recharged and fired. The last craft blinked off the display. It was not any typical presence they were facing, she now knew, noting her dropship vacate her Flagship. A massive spacecraft, too large to be called anything but a Planet-Killer, by her standards, appeared from a dimension she could not possibly know. It floated at a comfortable distance and employed what were quite simply, massive anti-ship cannons. Conventional weapons that tore the less-than-flimsy cruisers apart as if they were less than nothing. Her interest piqued, she studied the alien craft.
The features immediately noticeable were the colors. It could be either a brightly shining silver, or an obscure black, fluctuating like a fine jewel through its two colors. Sometimes she could not see it at all, despite it being right in front of her eyes. Others, it was awe inspiring, a testament to its creators that it could literally render sightless any who beheld its terrible glory. As it fought, if she decided not to choose the word slaughtered, it would change shape and perhaps even composition to better suit its position. Port becoming starboard, bridge becoming engineering, cargo holds melting into one another and creating impassable barriers in front of boarders. There was no halting in its crew's flawless co-ordination and communication, oftentimes the ship was changing to better provide the crew an advantage. The technology, she felt forced to admit, was incredible. Condensing into sub-planes of reality and expanding again into the physical world in milliseconds, science so advanced and unfathomable it could be called magic. The impossible become undeniably existent.
"You like what you see?" Syidu was watching her, rather than the holographic reproduction.
She turned her head to him, struggling not to remain in her own reality. "I do not find it unpleasant." She chose her words carefully, remembering to speak in a proper manner. Anything less was below her station, the other must know that.
"This vessel, the hologram you are watching and the deck on which you stand, is the Burning Eternal." He began circling the perimeter of the room, quietly contemplating. "The largest, most advanced engine of destruction in the Forerunner arsenal, precise within a molecule, host to innumerable weapons of mass-destruction. Armored and shielded with countless energies, capable of slipping between the various dimensions as if they were no more than a thin oxygen layer. Unassailable."
"Dramatically overpowering." She finished dryly, trying to find his point before he overwhelmed her in a pointless speech.
"Yes, precisely." He raised his eyes to hers. "Tell me, do you know who this is?"
The room flashed so brightly she closed her eyes. No one seemed to account for their sensitivity, it was a curse as much a blessing. Things others might dismiss as mere annoying droning in the back of their minds, she dealt with every moment, picking the things important from those that were insignificant and unneeded. Shade opened them again, and spotted across the room a woman.
She carried around her, even an illusion as she was, an aura of passionate belief. The lines in her youthful, attractive face suggested aged wisdom beyond her years, with complimenting eyes that knew both great compassion and reserved, calculating ambition. Her eyes are as mine. So too with her hair, but longer, more untamed. She felt a note of appreciation inside her mind for the simple, all-telling garment she wore. A blue cheongsam, with thin straps that revealed the shoulders, yet enough modesty to protect one's image of respect and integrity.
Before she realized what she was doing, she was speaking, a gentle, ghostly murmur. "She appears in all that I see, similar to me."
She knew in some way, she did not need to look at him to know he had grown tense. "This regal woman was my bind-mate. My life partner. Her name was," He held back, his voice was beginning to crack. When he spoke again, it was strong and self assured. "Zeira. You remind me of her."
"I know nothing of this creature." Her hand distorted the features of the representation, sliding through it and warping every aspect. Startled, she retracted her hand. It had seemed so real moments ago. Shade frowned, not recalling what he had been saying. Aware that she might seem weak, she stood straighter, stiff almost, as if at military attention. "When do we begin your game?" She turned her full attention to her enigmatic host.

He had relocated to a dark corner, and placed a hand on his face. When she saw him, though, he was in the process of flicking an errant bunch of long blonde hair from his face, dispelling the ominous shadow which had reigned over his eyes. "Game?"
"My freedom, should I defeat you in your game of strategy." She replied matter-of-factly. His word was the only thing she had, if she lost that advantage...
"Ah, yes." He stepped forward, into the light. "A riddle, quite simple. The strategy is in finding the better answer of the many you could choose. Listen to the song."
"Still now my child, still now your grace.
Rest easy ever, I'm here with you; night
will not claim thee, sleep now e'er last.

Standing my guard is, warding our shore
back dreary monsters, they shalt
not snatch; Erosee, for I guard here.

Close your eyes young one, daughter
black hair. Green eyes of mother, violet
father. Precious your life is, so dear.

Still now my child, still now your grace;
rest easy ever, I'm with you now, night
will not claim thee, sleep now e'er last.
My little Black-hair,
Your star yet shines..."


His voice was something she appreciated, rich and full of music, as her own was. It lacked several crucial elements, however. The most important being contempt. So, this was his game. He was playing out psychological conditioning, much like introducing a fresh recruit to war by desensitization; the process of ensuring that one kills without compunction, who has no conscience. Only his was aimed at weakening her so she could be more effectively interrogated. She let her face fall into a mode of contemplation, uncertainty. He waited impassively. "Well?"
When she felt the necessary time had passed, she indulged him. "I will not play your game."
"My game?"
"Do not insult my intelligence. I have won over you."
He sighed. "Very well." He seemed disappointed. "This way."
Truly, she was surprised. It was melodramatic on his part, fantastic, fake even, to end their discussion so prematurely. But then, things seldom were perfect and noble, often things never had good reasons for happening- they just did. And right now, she was glad that things were happing as they were, for she was headed back toward the others. Back toward the index. Three meters ahead, Syidu Daystar was smiling. The web of intrigue had been spun, and expanded every moment in his favor. Empires would fall, razed to ash. Stars would die, new forces let free from their millennia old cages. The grand design had found its crucial piece. The Queen that crushed the Knights, slaughtered the pawns, murdered the bishops. Burned the castles and laid to rest the king on his checkered seat. And at the center of it all, he stood watching. The invisible third player pulling the strings.

Rebirth - A Game of Atrophy
Date: 27 December 2004, 9:16 PM

Shade did not turn to watch as the Dropship blasted away at full speed back toward its hangar; she began marking the pace for their march to a place she would rather avoid. Given everything that was influencing what was occurring, she had little choice. Her escorts, eight Forerunner soldiers with auras of firm disinterest, melted away in a manner that only killers with a complete lack of moral conscience could.

It was obvious they were there, if only because she constantly glanced about, nervous that each step could be what sprang a trap she hadn't foreseen.
Fearful that she might be broadcasting her agitation openly, she distracted herself by gazing around, noting landmarks and scenery. They had been dropped in the middle of a swamp- quite a piloting feat, considering most landings required clearings so as not to damage the craft -and therefore needed to navigate once more. Or at least, she would have. Everyone around her seemed to know instinctively where they were going.

"It has been long since I last set foot here." Syidu had crept up behind her. She tried to cover up her flinch with a question, secretly astounded. Little could take her unawares when she was paying at least half attention.
"You created these Halos?"
Laughter. "No. These were created far before my time, but I've frequently visited each one. Not for some time, however."
Shade took some time in digesting what she'd just been given. These constructs, Halos, were old. She had known that much before, as to approximately how old was yet to be revealed. The installation she'd found at Pluto then, was only a few decades or less in its age, which meant someone had been there unawares to humanity, building within the planetoid's core. One race immediately came into mind.

"The installation monitored by your construct, Gallant Claw, was only recently constructed then?"
He seemed both unprepared and prideful, eyes growing wide, then beaming with life she hadn't yet known in him. She had found another weakness; he was attached to his people's triumphs.
"By the standards of most installations, yes. It was created officially as a rallying point for refugees fleeing the collapse of our Empire after overwhelming Covenant," He swallowed, his voice carefully measured. "numbers destroyed our central Government bodies."
Shade found herself smiling with cold satisfaction. He deserved any grief he'd claimed, as far as she was concerned. He was after all, an enemy. Their conversation died down and she was left alone again, thinking what she would. No longer was it raining, the air here was warm, sticky and humid. She expected no less. This section was also drier than the one she and her warriors has marched through, a fact she was thankful for, slogging through muddy ground was taxing enough without having to worry about the possibility of Syidu stabbing her in the back.
More Forerunner soldiers, their Wolf-shape masks displaying feral cunning for all sight, appeared from thin-air with nary any sound. So, they had personal cloaking much as her infiltrator Torra did.

"Stand and deliver!" The voice was female, carrying an almost masculine solo under itself. Judging by her bulk, she had more testosterone in her than the average primate-human creature. Her weapon remained firm, leveled at her more than Syidu; she likely had companions waiting in hidden firing positions.
Syidu's commands clear, gloriously powerful, speaking in rhythmic melody, the sentry disappeared and moved off. Syidu moved on, and this time it was she who followed. The field headquarters burst into view in its full chaotic bustle. Beneath it all, the well-oiled, organized pack she'd first seen.

She did not entirely care of their troop placements or numbers, she had more immediate problems to worry about. The perimeter seemed to have been established as a rough triangle, covering the three open spaces into the area, which was essentially a scattering of thick trees and rocks. That was interesting, she supposed that if one side fell under attack the other emplacements or soldiers could easily shift themselves about to provide support.
At the center of the encampment, the command structure; a spherical prefab building with two levels. Arranged around it, in precise rows was a ring of smaller buildings, likely barracks for any soldiers off duty. She did not register anything else, other than the general things she already knew to be there.

Syidu exchanged a few words with passing troops in a manner that suggested companionship. She felt it was a waste of time. The function of a lower caste was to perform its duties so its better could implement the plans that would see them all to safety. The conversations only delayed that task further. She rolled her eyes in irritation, before she caught herself. It was better not to reveal such things to the enemy, such pathetically human mannerisms.
She moved on alone; waiting for her safety only prolonged her presence with possible attackers, and bored her further. It was a strict timetable she followed; she had to get to the index before any harm could come of others snatching it from under her grasp.
Shade walked in the open, as she had been taught to do, become one with the surroundings apparent. Left and right messengers, patrols and other necessary personnel in the encampment went about their business. Precise and in uniform, so focused on their duties she felt a sense of belonging, a sense of alienation all at once.

"You there!" Something was wrong, a displeased masculine voice told her she looked out of place. "Why are you not in uniform?" For a moment she lost herself in indecision, fearful that she might be shot on sight because she was not recognized. But she quickly realized that sensation would get her nowhere. The offended soldier stopped a few inches away, as if waiting for a response. She did not want to disappoint him.
"Forgive me, sir." She kept her eyes downcast, tried to make her breathing seem nervous, which didn't turn out to be very difficult. "I was just returning from a stroll, I hadn't realized the time." As if to strengthen the weight of her obvious deception, a gust of hot air blew in from ahead, tossing her hair upward, revealing the last thing she wanted him to see. Her ears.

His hands flew to his side, locking fingers around his sidearm. Her hands shot up in response, obviously faster than he could register, thumb and index finger tensed, striking him in the throat while the heel of her other hand slammed hard into his chest. She barely had time to feel his nerves shudder before he flew back, gasping. Dying.
Energy built up inside her body, climbed down her spine, burst passed her skin and seized her body in an unrelenting punishment. Wheezing, gagging on her own blood, she cut a pitiful impression, dirty, with fried hair and stale, cooked flesh. Having a seizure in the middle of the path, eyes rolled up into the back of her head. As unlikely as it seemed, she did not scream, or cry out. Her throat was too swelled, too tight for any sound to break free. Amazingly enough, no one seemed to notice.

She waited for a time, wondering bitterly if her nerves could still welcome the sensation of pain, of pleasure. The individual grains of dirt kicked up by water drainage answered her in its own stride, little furies wiggling along her body. She could feel. Wheezing in what air her constricted throat let her, she staggered over to a group of crates and collapsed. No more friends to see my weakness. No strength for my enemies to celebrate. She closed her eyes, letting the shock of her situation pass over, holding her legs close to stave off the coldness she knew she should not be feeling. "I cannot even strike my foes without being cast aside as if I am no threat." Warriors could not grieve or cry for their defeats and doubts. They could not...

Shade frowned. "No, concentrate on the index."
With nothing better to occupy her time as she tried to contain her rebellious limbs, which were taking a painfully long time to recover, she resorted to reading the call numbers and labels on the containers nearby. Food Rations, Spare Data Crystals, Power Cells. Her eyes continued scanning, strangely curious. Did she hope? Did she dare guess that they would be so trusting?

If her smile was any indication, they were. "Weapons and Uniforms." Her whispered words struck her as a quiet vow, a sworn oath. She was on her own grounds now, and it was time to go to work. What had passed did not matter, there was only one thing left to do. Muffled footsteps caught her, a bright light shining into her eyes. Instinctively, she flinched away, squinting up at the offending source to get a better view at whatever was behind it. The eyes of Syidu were flat, carefully neutral. But his tone suggested he was amused.
"Going somewhere?" His fist clenched and unclenched, reigning in great sadness. He was a two-faced impossibility. "I didn't want to have to punish you, but you're leaving me no choice." His actions suggested otherwise. She watched the motion of the light, entranced by its shimmering façade. The kick delivered to her ribs caused her a sudden, shocked yelp. Her sensitive ribs, recently mended, still soft, snapped once more. She curled up to stave off the pain, to protect herself, but only succeeded in making it worse.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" He grabbed a fist full of hair, and pulled her to her feet, ripping out a spot of it. Shade did not notice the blood making its way down her scalp and into her face. Only the stinging pain, her tortured breath.
"Cannot breathe!" She tried, desperate for air. For release.
"Unfortunate." He shoved her into a parade square, where she fell gladly as her body screamed why she should not have moved. Standing, could not stand. Am I to die here? I do not wish to die, I have not completed my mission. CANNOT BREATHE! Going to fail... please, air!

She was only dimly aware of the orders he snapped off, professional, simple. Blows rained down from every direction, she tried to escape their wrath, only succeeded in exposing more of herself to be beaten. As far as she could tell, there was nothing outside the pain, the desire to be free of it.
Free of the unending kicks, rifle butts, of the soldiers who assaulted her. With nothing other than her own blood to inhale, she closed her eyes and fell into death's embrace.

Death was long time coming. When she opened her eyes again her vision was blurry, she waited for it to focus before being forced to close her eyes again; the light was far too bright. Memories welled up, she quickly suppressed them with a keen awareness of the aches and pains her body felt. It was still difficult to breathe still, she was once again laying on a hovering table, lashed to it by restraining straps. He did not waste time in making his presence known. Syidu's voice was easily recognizable, it was the only sound she respected as equal to her own voice.

"I hope you find your accommodations pleasant?"
Shade grated her teeth as the bones in her body scraped against one another, ignoring swollen limbs, stings, dull pains, blunt aches and any other conceivable injury as best she could. If she had the strength, she would have managed some retort. Her eyes would no longer open, they'd swollen shut just now.

If he would cease their game, her torment could end, she would no longer have to suffer. He was too shrewd for that, she amended grimly. He would make her beg for death, but only after he'd extracted everything useful. It would be what she would have done in his place.

Shade wept both inside and out, only adding to her veritable list of discomforts. She still had something to hold on to, however. The soothing effect of a song she'd only recently learned kept her alive, kept her heart from succumbing to wounds far more deadly than anything physical. She could have sworn she heard a woman's voice, aged but brilliantly free from all the things that bound her to an endless cycle of war. A voice that was one with fair hair, youthful face.

That voice was sibilant, and belonged to Syidu. "Still now my child, still now your grace." The woman who could not possibly have been present was singing, soothing, willing for survival. The lullaby Shade remembered word for word was different somehow, its words changed.

"Rest easy ever I'm here with you now, my little black hair, your star yet shines. Precious you life is, so dear." Images simply appeared, not flashed, shot or blurred, but came into existence and settled. A night sky lit by blinking stars, blocked out by an imposing armored figure. A head with hopeful features, trying desperately to contain joy. Her mind immediately dismissed these as delirium, surely what they must be.

Dimly she was aware of Syidu speaking with another Forerunner. She did not think, only listened to their words as the song faded from her mind, clinging to reality's very substance by slowly snapping threads.
"Get her cleaned up, I rather dislike seeing her in this state."
"Our nano-robotics should heal most of what is physical, but her body will be drained. There's no telling how weak she might be when the procedure is done; especially considering it was just used to mend broken bones not more than hours ago."
"I do not care." Syidu again. "Weak is yet better than dead due to injuries we inflicted. We still have use for this one."
"As you command then, Ship-Lord."
What were they planning? Why were they so utterly brutal, yet so caring? She whimpered in confusion, something that had she been in another time and position, would have regarded for weaker beings. There should have been another to tell her what answers she was missing, a steadfast Tras'Lok to defer to where she could never know the answer. A fleet she could command in a billion ways to crush this new foe. But that fleet was little more than ashes now, blown by the winds of time into scholar's notes.
Another tiny needle stabbed into her flesh, but by now, she could no longer feel it.

From across the room, Jaeden'Seul stood leaning on a sterilized wall, arms crossed, gaze attentive in one of his rare moments of complete concentration. His old friend had a plan, he could tell that much just by the way he carried himself. S
yidu was a man of many enigmas, and to pierce them all would be to swallow yourself in his endless, all consuming self. So Jaeden didn't try. He followed, occasionally ending up with some foresight if he had knowledge enough. The murderer would get what she deserved sooner or later, of that there could be no doubt. But he preferred sooner to anything that amounted to years from now. It was this that drove him to question his Lord.
"Why don't just shoot her and be done with it?" He could not keep his gnawing vexation from his voice. "She's a threat. The smartest thing to do would be-

Syidu cut him off. "No." Was all that the slightly taller man offered.
"Talk then." He had no desire to be left out of the loop. Everything he didn't know he could potentially screw up, which meant he obviously needed to remain as some put it, 'filled in.' Syidu locked gazes with him, not challenging, simply assessing whether or not he wanted to divulge what he knew.
So Jaeden figured, that is. Doubt fingered his mind. I may have pushed this too far. He squared his shoulders. He would not be treated in second-rate ways. He could not back down now, if he did there would be consequences not only unfavorable to him, but for everyone under their collective command.
To his amazement it was Syidu who seemed nervous, glancing not at him as he'd originally believed, but over his shoulder. Other than the hovering medical table, the room was empty, there wasn't much an uncertain Ship-Lord could look at.
"She seems intelligent enough to be a leader, there isn't much else she could be. My idea is simple, drop her slightly ahead of the band she was traveling with by using a sub-tunnel, they'll pick her up and eventually lead us back to the vessel that escaped our initial thrust."
"You forget Syidu, she expects you to try that. She will find your tracer and dispose of it. I may not be the model soldier, but I'm far from stupid. Your plan has flaws, what clouds your judgment?"
His eyes suggested that he was slightly proud of himself for having figured out a large kink that Jaeden had not. "No one ever said she be conscious at the time." He fingered a vial, recently acquired from a healer. "I am going to be running some tests on this. In the meantime, see to the general running of our operations here, would you?"
"Why bother?" It wasn't like Syidu to neglect his duties unless it was vitally important.
"Her eyes. Very interesting happenings inside them."
"You saw it too." The Forerunner Ship-Lord never answered him, only walked off with the very demons of innumerable hells on his heels. He should have seen it then, that a grave idea had latched onto his mind. It so happens that in the future, that idea would have grave consequences to their mission.

Rebirth - A Game of Risk
Date: 18 February 2005, 12:26 AM

To their well-deserved credit, none of the lost rebels complained or even expressed discontent with their situation, though they would certainly have had a hard time doing so even if they weren't concentrating with all their being on putting one foot in front of the other. Mikka had a hard time grasping the concept of how Urien and Tras'Lok could continue to not walk, but jog down these claustrophobic tunnels two miles after the battle with that building sized beast. His guess was not an approximation either, shortly after they'd distanced themselves from what he'd dubbed the 'Flood Chamber', their equipment had begun to function again. Breathless, the three companions, a Hunter, a Hari-Key, and a Torra plodded to a stop and flopped on the ground. "Arms-Master." He could barely manage out of his depleted lungs. "We require a brief respite."
The great warrior paused in mid-step, turned in an extraordinary feat of flexibility, and nodded. "Hold this position, then. Urien and I shall forge ahead and see if we can't locate the index chamber. Our communications gear should be in usable condition, therefore you will report every even interval you feel prudent, Lord Masanee'."
"Understood Arms-Master." He wheezed, and turned to the others. The two were already gone before he had completed his simple gesture. After he felt he could speak without stuttering, he looked over his charges. He had obviously been placed in command. Kodos seemed well enough, his heavy armor had made him reek of brine and sea flora, the smell associated with his race's perspiration. He carried himself stoically, as always. He did not anticipate there being any trouble with him. Snuggle was a different story, she would be running out of methane by now. Field operations where the rebreathers could replenish their supply using local vegetation, or at least keep the depletion thin enough for a use of two days were fine. Confined spaces with physical exertion she would not normally be used to would have a significant effect on her equipment's performance. With each breath she would be wasting much more than a trained member of her race. A concern that needed to be addressed immediately, in his opinion.
"Snuggle." She did not reply. He glanced over in her direction, dragging his eyes off the various blood stains covering Kodos. She was sleeping fitfully with her head nestled in her paws. He nudged her, eliciting an annoyed sounding garble. It had the desired effect, she came to and turned to him. "Your methane reserves seem to be running out. If they aren't refilled within the hour you will die of suffocation. Any suggestions?"
"Oh, so glad you remind me." She snapped. He expected her to be on edge, all of them were. The confined space and tedious march without any real leadership had drained them mentally and physically. He glanced at Kodos in a silent plea for assistance, fortunately, the massive Hunter did not desert him. He lifted his shield, pulled himself to his feet and picked the grunt up by her rebreather.
"We will press on." Mikka dragged himself up much as Kodos had, feeling his muscles protest most adamantly. They felt like rocks, were loosing feeling rapidly. The only advantageous thing he'd gained was air in his lungs that did not sting. With the Hunter carrying Snuggle, she would lose significantly less methane, considering she would not be exerting herself overmuch. He envied his large companion, carrying heavy armor, fuel-rod, shield and Hari-Key with added weight. His endurance was impressive, even among his own race.
They traveled through twist and turn, passing humming things, strobe lights, flashing indicators, flickering markers- ultimately finding no sign of either Tras'Lok or Urien. It allowed them time for their minds to imagine, something which they were given very little time to exercise, occupations being what they were. Mikka cared little for covering his back, even mounting sufficient watch duty was an effort beyond his capabilities. He was in short exhausted. Snuggle's quiet snoring brought a smile to his face.
"I did not think females could snore." He was going out on thin limbs by addressing the Hunter, who would either refrain from answering, making him look like a fool, or continue their conversation. He was glad Kodos chose the latter.
"On my homeworld, it is widely believed that most indigenous wildlife is completely female. Asexual. Incredibly strange, our scientists have devoted years to studying the phenomenon."
"On my homeworld, I once heard of a warrior who could snore so loudly that with each breath, the very mountains would shake. There is a folktale where the warrior's snoring ended up destabilizing a mountain so much, that a large rockslide fell onto an army bound for a prominent Lord's stronghold. Needless to say the prominent Lord never made it home."
After a curiously curious guffawing sound, Kodos turned his visor onto him. "Your vibrant tale possesses an adequate moral?"
"Yes." He searched briefly, finding the appropriate quote from his brain. "Never bring a warrior who snores very loudly on a trip through mountainous regions prone to rock, mud, or landslides."
"Very wise precaution." There was no sarcasm involved, only appreciation. Simple sentiment, simply stated. He knew Kodos would appreciate just such a story. What he did not know was that he would bother to initiate another subject. "In our conflict with that... creature, you fought well. Fought like the very spirit of death itself. Tras'Lok, I am aware his capabilities. But I daresay without you we would have been lost."

Mikka felt his eyes register uncertainty, his bones electrify with embarrassment, with gratitude, denial. Surely he was but a minor piece of the grand puzzle. Without the others, he would not have been able to do what he had done. More than probable, his actions, and their apparent success were based off pure luck more than any other thing. He would tell his companion this. "I think not. I am merely a humble Torra, nothing I could ever do has any merit. It is thanks to you, and Tras'Lok and Urien, that we were successful."
"Cite whatever non-truth, know that your company is appreciated." It felt good to hear those words, each honest statement of gratitude, or even of confirmed friendship, gave him strength. They could overcome their plights together, just as they did helping one another walk. Hope had not died for him yet. In spite of his carefully concealed emotion, he laughed.
"The Arms-Master cannot be too far ahead. Can you move faster?"
"Yes. The Hary-Key's methane supplies have stabilized, for the present. I will continue to transport her, relying on caution."
"I hear and understand. Let us go, then."
When one is unoccupied, or more precisely bored, time has a way of dragging on, making mere minutes seem hours. The feeling he was getting was very similar, only minutes were seconds, and hours were days. He held his attention to the space in front of him, each step carrying him further and further along, closer he hoped, to the surface. Or at the very least, to their goal of claiming the index Shade needed. The index that Shade wishes me to take. His sudden revision startled him, he did not normally consider himself a blind soldier following whatever orders were given. It only struck him now that this was just what he was, trusting completely in others, always faithful to authority's greater wisdom because his own insecurities clouded his sight. How young he had been before circumstance forced him into what he was now, mere hours from his past. He would have liked to reflect for a greater length on just why he had changed, but the sudden appearance of a fork in the tunnel demanded his attention. It was a complicated choice, one of the most heavy burdens to decide despite its core simplicity.
"Mikka." Kodos adjusted Snuggle's position on his shoulder, waking her up. "Which direction do you believe we should travel?"
Assuming the holographic video feeds he'd once seen from another scouting expedition onto a Halo, the area, as he already knew, was called 'Library.' Which meant that no matter which direction they traveled they would end up at a dead end. He considered the options they had for a few moments. They could simply remain stationary where they were and hope that others would come for them, but they ran the risk of having the aliens catch up to them and he did not fancy doing battle in the state he knew they were in. They could retreat back the way they had come, which to him seemed rather pointless. Moving forward was the only option they had if Snuggle was to be brought out alive.
"Forward." He allowed his jaws to click together, perhaps seeming studious. "Either way we eventually end up somewhere other than here."
"Agreed." Kodos first looked down the left tunnel, then the right. "Which direction have the Arms-Master and Urien forged?"
It was apparent to him that had they been thinking rightly when they passed this way, they would have left some marker to indicate their chosen way. He knew that Kodos was thinking the same thing by the careful searching he seemed to be doing, slowly scanning every discreet place, obvious or not. Mikka immediately decided to follow suite, his mind mostly worried for the safety of Snuggle, this did not aid him in any way, for he knew that he was growing panicked. He could not let Snuggle die, it was vital her life be saved if for no other reason than the fact that she'd probably saved his. After an age fruitlessly searching, he heard a brief clang of metal on metal. He looked up to see Kodos nursing a sore joint.
"We go left." Snuggle rasped semi-consciously.
In silence the trio moved on. Mikka was aware of his surroundings, it was just that he currently paid little attention to them. So confined were his perceptions he nearly tripped over the wire in front of him. He barely had the time he needed to stop, but as luck would have it he was able to place a shaking hand on the wall, halting any progress by desire or momentum. Every muscle in his body trembled. His eyes had only just compensated themselves to visualize the veritable net of hair-thin stuff. It was arrayed from both walls, floor and ceiling, blocking all progress. Some had already begun to cut into his skin. So sharp was each strand that even the body could not gratify itself to falling apart until several seconds had elapsed. He was glad that he'd noticed it soon enough, only his wrist and forearm bled. "Hold, go no further!" He shouted in order to gather Kodos's attention, and make his command clear. The urgency he'd voiced would be no small help. Slowly, he withdrew his lacerated flesh, preying no snagging occurred.
Wincing, his eyes narrow in concentration, Mikka gave one final tug and stumbled back, keeping as much pressure to the wound as he could manage.
"Clever ambush. A dirtier trick than even the Humans would stoop to." The Hunter was visibly troubled, but he controlled himself, calmly glancing behind them to ensure none were advancing or preparing to fire.
He regarded the Hunter for a moment, then clenched the fist of his wounded arm, causing more blood to flow forth . The tension helped him deal with the pain however, and steady his sword arm. The heat from his activated energy blade washed over him like a violent stroke, making his vision close in around him, grow dim, spotty with red.
His body began to have a fit, forcing him to drop his weapon, its very construction vaporizing it so that an enemy could not wield it. Reflexively he swore, even as he sighed with relief for the lack of strain the blade's absence allowed. "I cannot do this."
He leaned on the wall, slid down to a seated position. He could feel Kodos staring down on him with disapproval, practically feel the waves of resentment radiating off him for showing such weakness, such cowardly actions. Instead, Kodos leaned on his shield, his voice gentle but firm with conviction; and remarkably, hints of the same exhaustion he'd just allowed to overcome him. "I understand." He gently set Snuggle down, and proceeded to do the same for himself.
The Hari-Key began to mumble to herself, sentences that seemed to have no point, or even any small logic. She was beginning to show symptoms of hallucination.
The trio sat in the gloom, none daring to so much as look at another of their small company. It was like playing a game of strategy with two sides, a red and a blue. Both competitors were capable leaders and generals, but the cunning of the red inevitably overran the shrewd nature of the blue, and although the blue knew he was defeated regardless of what he did, he still did not wish to admit his position for fear of realizing that he was not so shrewd as he first thought. A grim outlook, Mikka admitted. Had they any chance at all? Even if his body had not failed him, those wires could not have stood for the many millennia he knew this Halo to be in existence if they were not resistant to whatever might contend their timelessness.

"How can we pass these?" He asked his question after finding himself unable to answer. Having addressed no one it particular, it remained unanswered.
He brought his eyes to the wire net, peering passed it Perhaps it wasn't even necessary to go in that direction, they could always double back and take the other route. Struggling to find some small hope he could latch onto, Mikka probed the depths. He could imagine a large vice closing in on him from all sides, and a large beast waiting in the tunnel to snap him in half beyond what currently blocked their progress. The vengeance of the creature he'd helped kill, he laughed humorlessly.
Wait... there was something there, he had not seen it before.
A body in the dark, unawares that they were there, thus completely unresponsive to their presence. It had not moved in some time, he noted. It could very well be dead. Seeing no other alternative, however, he decided to try the only thing he could think of. He did not need the council of his comrades, they would surely have done the same. He felt Kodos shift, in some small exhibit of intuition. He too was looking down the tunnel. If he used a tone of authority it would be more likely to respond. "You there, identify yourself!"

Little reaction followed his command. He flipped on the lights mounted to his armor. "Gods above." His voice sounded small in his ears. "It is Shade."
"And there is something moving beyond her."
Using the shadows passed her prone form as cover, figures darted across the hallway and hovered in the air. Their cold metallic chassis reflected any light that hit them, prevented it from causing undue marking of position. Despite a lack of any visible leadership, they moved in fine rank, all twelve; from what Mikka could tell.
"Ah, hello!" Came the enthusiastic chatter from above. Startled, he leapt back, bringing up his fists in defense, woes forgotten as adrenaline flooded through his system, refining his co-ordination. He could see his body being bathed in white-ivory light, subject to scrutiny by the floating monitor robot. He had seen it pass by him on a few occasions aboard the Uzumri. Only now did he care for its presence, indeed even bother to remember its name, because it could prove vital. 424 Gallant Claw.
Mikka relaxed. Slowly. The monitor gyrated left, then right; gazing at Snuggle and Kodos before settling back on him again. It seemed to be bobbing up and down, examining everything.
"What are you doing here?"
"I offer my significant assistance." Its voice was an annoying whine, but he cared less for that than the sentinel drones aimlessly waiting on their master. Contrary to their usual chrome plating, they were a rich violet, like the thin armoring on a hover-sled, or 'ghost' as some had taken to calling them. Soft blue light emanated from their visual apertures.
His concerns were now twofold, the safe return of his comrades, and locating the index. He could not, however, see to both. Surely, Shade could understand saving lives over finding a simple material item? After all, in the several philosophies he knew, life always held infinitely more value than anything one creature might possess.
Hopefully the monitor would pull his weight, listen to his request and grant it. He saw no other way of proceeding onward. "I need you to cut these wires."
"Query: In definition, requiring several precision lacerations employing laser or plasma tools."
A wave of tension crawled up his spine. Not now!
"Yes!" His agitation was plain, he had not the time for this, he needed to get everyone safely away from this place. "Move quickly."
"Affirmative. If only for the Reclaimer." His mechanical eye fluttered. In an inhuman burst, the strange violet sentinels sprang into action, weaving around one another like ghostly spirits. "The Female's vital signs are nearly fading. But stable."
In no time at all they'd cut every last strand and been duly warned to step carefully, so as not to carve pieces out of the soles of their feet. This wire is decidedly lethal stuff. Mikka, once over the threatened floor, darted to Shade and began his examination. Without her, he feared there would be some form of power struggle, and dared not think of the ramifications. Mutiny was certainly spoken of among the ranks, but without first recognizing a leader there would be brutally messy fights to determine who was capable enough for the position, which he was certain would be their undoing in the long run. He, unlike many, knew where his loyalties lie. She had done him a favor at least once, after all. He owed her a debt. It was time to ensure that contract was sealed.
"Gallant Claw." He did not turn his head, crouching near his monarch. It was a marvel she was still alive, let alone capable of making it as far as she had before collapsing. Had it been blind chance she'd found her way back into the library? Or had she simply been left for dead and in half-sensible condition navigated her way to another entrance?
It mattered little either way. They needed a way out. "If you have any sort of transportation, we need it now. Lives will be lost if we don't find medical attention."
Gallant Claw bobbed his head. "Affirmative." The sentinels lined up in two rows on either side of the hall, mimicking a standard column formation. "This direction. No shoving." Coming from anything else that would have sounded utterly childish. He settled on the fact that the construct was probably meant to be as protective as a teacher of young. When everyone was suitably ready, or in the case of Shade and Snuggle, settled on and unlikely to fall off Kodos, they proceeded at pacing to a forced march. At this point the knew they could not afford to mask their footfalls, so naturally he didn't try. They proceeded through many interesting hallways, twisting, moving up and down ramps, sometimes even dropping into pits and moving over narrow beams. He found himself concentrating less and less on the well being of others, the scenery, and just thinking about putting one foot in front of the other. Falling off was out of the question. Now was one of the times he was grateful for the rigorous training he'd been put through. If nothing else, it made him more physically capable.
"Ah, we have acquired our destination."
Mikka heaved a sigh, and increased his speed, jogging up the ramp-like tunnel until he reached the mouth, where he could stare out into the evening sky. Not quite starry nor sunny. Perfectly free of clouds. The air was fresh, and strangely animals scurried about completely oblivious. True, they had not learned to fear new creatures, yet there had to be some instinct to flee. When he saw the Dropship, T-sectioned and heroic, he allowed himself a gasp, turning back to find Kodos trudging steadily up the tunnel. Single-minded, the Hunter did not stop to admire what was around him as he had, but moved to the Dropship and relieved it of a spare Methane Rebreather. Together, they crouched near the Hari-Key healer. She was not breathing any longer. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd torn the previous mask free and replaced it with the on attached to the tank Kodos was holding. "Wake up, tiny canine." He offered. "Your life is here." No answer. But then, had he truly expected there to be one?
Yes. I won't let any comrade die. He clenched his jaws tightly, and pressed hard. A choked gasp escaped her body, followed by a tense inhale, a furious fit of coughing. Greedily, the Hari-Key clutched the rebreather mask to her face, sucking in every ounce her throat would allow as her eyes blinked rapidly in recognition. Life, it seemed, was far more appealing than the prospect of dying without the taste of the world on tongue.
"Our first pleasant news in some time." The Hunter laughed, collapsing onto his back.
"Rest, mighty Kodos. If any is more deserving it is you." On shaking legs he stood, resenting the fact that they felt like jelly, and gimped his way to Shade, where he fell on his hands, grunting in satisfaction. Rest felt good, they now had Gallant Claw's sentinels covering their backs. Time to ensure that Shade would live. During his initial cursory examination, he noted her breathing. True to the claim of Gallant Claw, she appeared stable. She took in enough, ridded herself of what was not needed. Even heart beat, which was in a scientific sense remarkable, considering what she must have been through to get here. She was strong, he nodded his head in appreciation. What needed attention were the numerous cuts, else she lose too much blood. The swelling would have to be dealt with first, however. He couldn't truly deduce her physical condition until that died down, if it was allowed to continue it might cause complications.
"My Lord Kodos!" He quickly began to remember proper respects and speech, now that he was out of danger. "I require a cold plasma pack!"
He heard the grass rustle, looked back to see Shade's eyes flutter open and quickly looked away. If she was awake, he would certainly have a problem when she came to her senses. He felt a small stab of regret, and quashed it immediately. He needed his full attention.
"Warrior, hear me," She spoke in a rasp, her every muscle tense as if the very act of speech was eating her alive from the inside. "there is a device-
"I know, my Lady. Tras'Lok is retrieving the index, fear not." He hoped his tone was gentle, soothing enough. Her eyes looked enraged, either at having been seen as she was, or being interrupted. That anger ended with the widening of her eyes, a slight tremor. With a sigh that lasted a half second, she was gone again. Just as well, this would be easier without her trying to pulverize him for what he supposed she would consider impudence. Steps heavy and mismatched, Kodos dropped what he'd asked for in front of him. Without losing a beat, he picked the cold plasma bag off the ground and placed it on Shade's head, molding it around the top and side of her swollen eye. One never placed cold objects directly on the eye when treating pain in that general area. It was from one class he'd taken to heart deeply, basic healing in the field. It seemed to him, waiting for the swelling to become more manageable, that the wounds on her body were slowly but surely knitting themselves together. If he blinked he would miss the smallest change in the size, when he stared for a time there appeared to be no change at all. It was strange. Like her body was indeed healing itself, only sometimes it was too self-conscious to bother when another set of eyes was watching it. He was immediately reminded of a Torra, incensed that they were naked.
Mikka leaned back, using Kodos for an impromptu post. The Hunter did likewise with him, and soon they fell into a habit of staring off into the distance. Snuggle crawled over at some point, he felt her thick fur cushioning his arm from the vanguard of the cold wind that had minutes ago, began seeping into the swamp. Gallant Claw would glide by from time to time, humming merrily. After they had unsuccessfully attempted to contact Tras'Lok, it was the only break in an otherwise boring and uneventful vigil.
"Swamps shouldn't get cold like this, should they?" Came the hesitant voice of Snuggle.
"This occurs only when ill things happen." Kodos shifted. "Such as one thing partaking a meal of another."
"Great." She offered with dry humor. "I almost died down below, and now a tall fellow with big teeth is going to eat me."
Interested, Mikka offered his own comment. "I had thought, Lord and Lady, that Tras'Lok was vegetarian." He could almost feel Kodos smirking. Truly, the Arms-Master deserved respect and admiration, but somehow he recently found himself believing there was a zealously flawed component to his character. Too serious, perhaps. Snuggle let out a brief bark, half yelp half growl.
"What do we do?" She set her paw on his arm.
That was a good question, after ensuring Shade was in good condition, they had no set objective. They needed to remain with the Dropship now, if they wanted to ensure they had a ride off the Halo. He thought for a moment, and spoke only when he knew he had the right idea. "We shall remain here, and await further orders from the Arms-Master. Think. None here are in any condition to act, and doing that would force us to abandon the Dropship so conveniently provided by Gallant Claw. We will not do that."
"Organic, you exhibit intelligence. I am yet uncertain how you'd concluded that I arrived aboard this particular vessel but-
He did not listen. In fact, he kept on speaking as if it hadn't attempted to enter their conversation at all. Whether or not it knew it was being rude could be ruled later, complimenting him or not. "What made me your superior?"
Surprised, Kodos turned around completely, his inclination of his head doing all the talking for him. Snuggle was slightly more verbose. "Well, you are a capable leader."
He frowned. He was not a leader, only lucky. Kodos would have done just as well in his position, if their roles had been reversed. He was confident of that. But he soon felt an empty hole in the pit of his stomach. If he was their leader, that meant their friendship was only a temporary thing. Good for the field of battle and not growing beyond that. Before he knew the words were leaving his mouth, he was delivering a sentence he'd heard a hundred times and dismissed as cliché rambling. "None here lead any other. There is only friendship. Agreed?"
"Agreed." Kodos offered solemnly. "It is good to know there is a Torra who remains with his feet to the soil."
"Whatever you say, Great Leader." The Healer gave him a good-natured clap on the shoulder, adjusting the position of her rebreather and standing. "Although, it is a bit odd..."
He clicked his jaws in the manner of a curious gesture.
"That we haven't been attacked by the aliens yet. They know we're here." She finished.
"I do not complain." He glanced at Shade once more, listened closely. She was in far too good a condition, he admitted. Far too good. Things were not what they seemed. Now that he actually devoted his energy to reviewing their situation, nothing added up. They had made their way the library unmolested. Probably due to the interaction of Gallant Claw. But how had Shade managed to find her way ahead of them, let alone been able to move at all when the alien creatures had been so close behind them, and literally on top of her?
It was a pity that Gallant Claw picked that moment to interrupt his thoughts, otherwise he might have seen the trap for what it was before the Doomharrow lost yet another battle.

"Organics, I have recently received a transmission originating from another organic. Designation 'Tras'Lok." His speech was systematic to the point where even another machine would weep with envy. Synthesized perfectly, save for the annoying whine, which unknown to Mikka bothered many more than just his own self. Snuggle's eyes jerked up in unison with his own. He hadn't expected that to happen so soon.
"What were the contents?" His voice sounded childish even to him.
The monitor replayed the message using some sort of holographic projector on his outer shell, and waited for their response. To say the least it was hurried. Supporting one another, Kodos and himself grunted with the effort of hauling their collective bulks off the ground, then hefted Shade and stumbled toward the Dropship, Snuggle hot on their trail. Three Covenant shambling for a ship, panting and hollering like wolf cubs ought to hearten any marine in any crisis, and thankfully none were present. Otherwise they might begin to doubt they weren't dreaming.
Mikka first settled Shade securely, going so far as to initiate the gravity clamps in case they were forced into a crash landing. He settled himself in the pilot's seat and made sure the others were in before closing the pod doors. The holographic interface scrawled numerous hieroglyphs across his face. Mentally, he picked some, and let his hands do their part. The kickback he received as the hovering mechanisms engaged was minimal, meaning they were in good shape for all sorts of daring aerobatics. Hopefully he would need none. He hit the acceleration, and angled the craft upward, replaying Tras'Lok's words in his head as he leveled off, smoothing out the ship's flight path. Once they hit cruising speed, he leaned back in the odd depression where he sat.

"We have obtained Shade's index, Lord Masanee'." The Arms-Master held up a green bar-like object. "Without complicating circumstances. There is something you may wish to see. Present yourself before me immediately, our focusing beacon should lead you to me."

The transmission ended there. It was vague, a thing that made him want to go there for no better reason than to find out why he was being so guarded about whatever it was he knew. Mikka watched clouds pass by, imaging their shapes were something other than they were. Giant monsters, great warships, castles. If only it could be so simple, so peaceful. But then there would be no curiosity. He disregarded the fanciful notion, straightened his posture. He kicked up the speed a notch and enjoyed the results as he was forced back into his seat. He would be the only one to feel the change. It felt good.
The landing area was so small he almost missed it, a tower peeking just above the treetops of a green forest. That was different. Usually the library remained only under the swamp region of Halo. He clicked his jaws, and considered his options. The smartest thing to do would be to clear the area of hostiles and land gently on the ground, where they could then enter the structure. But Mikka was never on par when it came to thinking smart. He slowed the dropship, and hit the comm. "Landing will be strenuous. Take hold an object."
On the ground a Quizal blinked, scratching the leathery skin that formed the plumes on her head. With a great crash of metal to metal, the U-shaped prongs crushed the tower's pinnacle between them, jarring the craft's boarding ramps open with the impact. Or so it seemed. The roar of a fuel-rod gun sounded twice, marking the fall of a tree that formed an effective ramp from tower to ground, down which Snuggle was sliding, carefully avoiding molten drops of plasma. She did a double-take, and found the infamous three checking themselves over at the base of the tree they'd just felled. Some truly did know how to make the simplest things overdramatic. Urien stalked forward, putting on her usual appearance.
"This way." She began walking.
"Gods that kick me off a high cliff, Mikka, where did you learn to pilot aerial craft?"
The Torra eyed his companions with what he hoped didn't look entirely ridiculous, an awkward expression that bunched his face with uncertainty. "I... my hands slipped." He pointedly turned his gaze on Kodos. "Tell me, what was your excuse?"
The Hunter crossed his arms, a position that looked somewhat strange as he tried to peek out from the gap between his cannon and shield. "My finger was influenced by slight of hand."
Snuggle laughed. "You mean your finger slipped."
"Precisely."
Urien wheeled on them. "This is no time for games!" Her mouth had curved up into a vicious snarl that made even the Hunter flinch. Eyes wide and angry, she pointed an accusing finger at Mikka. "Because of your outright stupidity our position sticks out like the warts on a marsh lizard."
She did not yell, nor was she cold. Angry in the way a pair of friends were when they wanted to express annoyance without hurting one another's feelings. "The aliens will be right on top of us. They should have in that tunnel, and need I remind you your conditioning is horrible, you will schedule further training sessions when we return to the Uzumri. Now come!"
There was obviously a power trip going through her head. Mikka did not bother to comment, what twisted his brain was that she was absolutely right about them. Their conditioning had to be slipping, otherwise they would have been able to keep pace with the others. It was in a way humbling, after having defeated a creature easily twenty times their size, that they had such a flaw. But it was a flaw they could not afford to allow. He followed meekly, mindful of the lesson.
"If the Quizal had paid any attention," Kodos muttered. "she would recall this neither time nor place." Gods help him if he didn't smile just a little.
His first steps into the control room went unnoticed by its former sole occupant, respectfully, he allowed his feet to clash loudly with the floor, resulting in a comforting pattern of steps. The Arms-Master, slightly taller than an average Torra, merely turned and regarded him with an enigmatic calm.

"I realize our presence places us in danger here, but until we have a means of transporting ourselves without being burned from the skies, Lord Mikka Masanee', we shall have a conversation." He clasped both hands behind his back, an uncharacteristic show of security and trust for a warrior of his caliber, who was so tense it was as if he expected a new, unexpected threat to just out and attempt to kill him at any moment.
He quickly checked his demeanor before he responded. When Torra spoke in that tone they were either about to do something two-faced or, in the case of Tras'Lok, zealous in their duty to whatever they currently believed.
"There is something you should know first." His unfamiliarity with the prose of nobility showed, he could see that from the way Snuggle flinched. The Hari-Key were far more intelligent than many gave them credit for. "The Lady survived. We've taken the precaution of placing her within the Dropship Gallant Claw... obtained. I am less concerned with his intentions than our possibility of escaping this area alive and intact."
"Noted. What we have discovered here the Doomharrow shall know as fact. I advised the Lady after experiencing the odd occurrence of time dilation that we should proceed to our forces on Biraak and assist them, which at first glance she seemed to oblige. Many questions were raised when she turned our course around completely to journey to this Halo."
To this he had one simple response. "Justified, I should imagine."
"No. Regardless we followed her orders faithfully, as we have always done. But there are those who do not take so kindly to our mandate being further delayed by her personal vendettas and machinations. One such group was a small squad of Hunters, who for their forthrightness were slaughtered like common pests. The Hunters were immediately forced to display their dislike of the situation while the Quizal felt their rights were upheld. As always, the Hari-Key felt neutral. Needless to say, politically we are in a state of chaos. This will only be worsened once the rest of the surviving warriors know that Shade seeks the Index in order to activate a super weapon of the old race. Nothing so primitively effective as the Halos. They wouldn't be so riled up if it was in order to further their goals, but only one can control it. Presumably being Shade, you can see why they would not enjoy such an outcome. They do not like Shade."
"You follow her." Was all he could say. Kodos shuffled, uncomfortable with long social interactions be they formal or otherwise.
"Shade did have potential once. But her short life reflects upon every being around her. She is young. Can be manipulated easily if you realize how she thinks. Her passions cloud her judgment. I believed she could bring our goal to us, once; but now I know that is not so. I follow because I am honor-bound to do so."
Attempting to figure the arms-master's person was like trying to talk to a metal wall in an attempt to see if it had feelings. Mikka let loose a sigh and pushed his mind back to the initial purpose of their meeting.
"What was it you wished that we know?" He took a deliberate step back, remaining neutral in his beliefs. If he was reading everything correctly, Tras'Lok was contemplating a civil war within a civil war. Contemplating turning the Doomharrow against one another. He knew most would follow the arms-master, but it was a distraction none of them could afford if they expected to win their freedom from the Prophets and their dictatorship.
Tras blinked, turned to face the largest display in the room, and began speaking again. "Firstly, I was able to conduct several scans of Shade's current condition as we marched here. Her physiology is remarkable, she can go three days without sleep, functioning at peak capacity, needs only sparingly to consume meals. Her body destroys all unneeded nutrients, keeps her in good fitness despite not having trained for some time. Her five senses are exceptional to the point where I find it difficult to believe she fails to notice as much as she does. All sicknesses are destroyed by her body before they even reach her, but this lends an unforeseen weakness. Things injected directly into her seem to have a greatly multiplied effect. A mild sedative to you or I is akin to a lethal, fast acting nerve agent to her."
"Why do you confide this in me, my Lord?"
"Patience, Mikka. All will become clear if you would listen." Urien was quick to intervene, allowing her master to continue as if uninterrupted.
"Her DNA is just as complete, nothing has been wasted. The strange finds are rather interesting, it is not the qualities I've already mentioned that grant me a moan of disbelief, but the apparent physical and emotional flaws. She has the joints and bodily capacity to move at least as rapidly, if not three times as rapidly as the dreaded Spartan warriors who have caused so much trouble in the past. But she refuses to move even one quarter that potential speed, regardless if her life is jeopardized. Again, her keen senses are impressive, though this is eclipsed by the fact that she must constantly hold them in restraint else the flood of input drive her insane. Her world possesses a speed that neither of us could conceive. In the right circumstances, she can literally slow down the flow of time. Not literally, but from a view of her eyes. The passage of a bolt of plasma whipping by our heads would seem instantaneous. But to her, she could watch every stage of its movement and contemplate its nature, taking what would seem like an eternity. However, it is important to remember that though she can perceive the world as a slow picture in these rare moments, she cannot act with any more haste than she normally might wish. Her brain is just as great a marvel as any other thing. Effectively the container of all that she is, as you would expect. Her intelligence is remarkable, she can solve the most complicated textbook battle maneuvers in seconds, always applying every outcome. Her mind is by no means traditional, however. It works like an animal trapped in a hunter's snare, fighting with everything it has until it thinks it has lost all hope. Cunningly employing tricks even I would never imagine. If she was completely detached, completely at her center she could, perhaps, be one of the most devastating generals that ever existed."
"But...?" He'd entirely forgotten Snuggle was there. She was taking everything in with more concentration that he would have expected. Being a scientist and healer as she was, it seemed to him that he had underestimated her intelligence. She did not convey it with words, but behind her eyes he was noticing now the glint of a shy, clever genius.
"Certain components in her brain are more apparent than others. In simple terms-
"Just one question, excellency." Snuggle has adopted the role of subservient. Given the nature of the current setting, he did not think it inappropriate. "How do you have both the brain and capability to snap a lecture off like Weilan on a good day? No offense intended, of course."
He left the query unanswered. "her emotions are causing blockages. Various chemicals are in higher quantity than others, making her... volatile. She is far too passionate to be leading us. If you would forgive my disrespectful tone, it is only because we are of different races that she has not partaken in an act of carnal pleasure." The frankness with which he spoke, the dead-serious tone, made it seem as if he was just speaking to an old acquaintance about the events he'd missed the last passing cycle.
"What? I thought the Lady was Covenant? What are you talking about?" Snuggle was almost hysterical now, for reasons he couldn't begin to understand.
Turning his attention to the smaller Covenant, the arms-master pointedly looked down. "At first glance her genetic makeup does appear Covenant, yes. But it is merely a façade. A clever one, very skillfully done, but still false. Her human appearance alone justifies that claim. But calling her human is false as well. Simply put, she is too... fantastic to be real. The forces she wields that science cannot identify should be testament enough to that point. But real she is, and identify her lineage we can. She seems to be a mix of all our respective races."
"How do you mean, Lord Tras'Lok? I do not see Torra fangs or Hunter skin." Mikka was having a difficult time understanding what he was being told now.
"Human, a select few Covenant genes, various wildlife. She is a hybrid of many different races. It is difficult to say just how much of each is in her, but we can be certain of one thing. She is a one in an infinity chance. I could see her being alive in no other light than straight from a test tube. I would even go so far as to say she resembles the aliens that slaughtered our brothers and sisters more than any of us. You've seen how she's acted in the past, reckless, confident when she should be wary. Lately, self-concerned. She's lost sight of our mandate."
He paused, looking to each of them.
"So finally, my little gathering comes to its end. There remains only this thing to say, and then I will have said all there is on my mind." He raised the index high in his right hand, unconcerned with its pulsing green glow, its undulating, gaseous interior. "This device is what has allowed me to learn as much as I have from memory, medical scan and personnel record. By using it as a key, I was able to gain the power of the vast facilities contained within this Halo; and give you such a detailed biography on our would-be leader. To literally download information from probes that the Gallant Claw monitor construct placed inside Shade. If I could do this, what do you think Shade would accomplish with the super weapon that this device activates? It must not fall into her hands, for the sake of all that is good in the universe. You cannot deny what she would become. You know who and what she is, for you have witnessed her malevolence firsthand. Honor-bound as I am, I cannot ignore injustice, for that would be a greater dishonor."
"You are a stupid, overzealous fool, arms-master!" Snuggle's eyes were practically popping out of her head. "Honor is an admirable thing, but to worship it as you do? To drive us apart because of honor!"
"Silence, runt! Do not disrespect your superior!" Urien was quick to jump to the arms-master's defense, slapping the smaller creature so hard she spun and fell.
A bestial roar gripped the room, a battle cry so loud it echoed off the walls. The serrated, razor-sharp metallic blades covering Kodos' back unsheathed from their customary niches, rasping against one another and sharpening themselves even further. His stance low and brutally graceful, the Hunter slammed into Urien with all the force his tank-crushing form could muster. Each blade played a part in slicing the Quizal clean in half, and before even one speck of blood hit the ground from the viscous mist that now floated in the air, his shield arm batted her torso into a wall, turning several fragile ribs into rough chunks.
Tras'Lok was first to respond, rushing toward Kodos with a kick that would snap his head around and likely disrupt his central nervous system in one neat stroke. Before he knew what he was doing, Mikka swept forward, anticipating the movement before it was completed.
He found Tras'Lok on the floor, just beginning to stand, Kodos shying away. What had just happened?
He did not have the time to wonder before he started talking. "Hold, all of you!" His words sounded terrible to hear, even to him. "This is just what the enemy would wish, us killing one another. Be my guest, make their lives easier, but know that as you do so your brethren will have fought and died for nothing!" This, thankfully, seemed to snap Tras'Lok out of his state of illogic. He was glad, for he knew somewhere deep inside the arms-master would have killed him in seconds without batting an eyelash.
"Now, there are issues that need to be addressed, I know. But let it be when we are out of the net that these aliens have enclosed around us."
"You have made your point, Lord Mikka Masanee'." Tras'Lok slowly climbed to his feet in unison with the others. "We shall go to this Dropship then, and return to the Uzumri, wherever it might be."
He nodded, jumping slightly when another transmission from Gallant Claw was fed through his equipment.
"I hate to interrupt your interactions, organics, but there is a large party of soldiers only ten minutes away from your landing site."
They did not need to be ordered to return to the vessel, Kodos and Snuggle were moving before either he or Tras'Lok even thought to suggest it. Deciding to remain behind until the arms-master began moving, partly to ensure that he did indeed bring the index, he could not help but notice his fellow's distant look.
"I may have postponed our debate." Tras'Lok said with such grim authority it set a chill in his heart. "But know that when the time comes, choose rightly. Honor and justice, saving trillions of lives. Or the dreams of a mere girl that I have sworn to protect, which would doom a whole universe to chaos, tyranny and anarchy?" He took a step forward and turned back. "Remember Mikka, you are with me, or against me. I pray that I will not have your blood on my hands."

Patient Chaos
Date: 8 March 2005, 6:46 PM

      Uzumri waited quietly beneath the shadow of a large asteroid. But as quiet as the mighty warship was, even more hushed was the static transmission between it and the approaching transport, which slowed considerably at an appropriate distance and set down inside a deserted shuttle bay. They had arrived at last from their long mission on the Halo's surface. All was not so stereotypically calm, which was unfortunate given how the Intejii manning the sensory console was completely oblivious to the fact.

      Still waiting in the vastness of space, huddled in a sophisticated cloaking mechanism, a sensory probe invisible to both electronics and naked eyes alike fed data through a secure communications route. The distance wasn't very far. And it mattered little to the Forerunner that several recon groups were operating. Those could be swatted like flies at a moment's notice. The real power that kept the fury of the formidable Savior single-ships in check was standing in a ship, examining a vial that could make the difference of life or death for many living creatures.

      For those in the shuttle bay time continued. Unaware and unsuspecting, they disembarked from the dropship that had carried them home. This was the way of existence. This was the way of reality, many viewpoints, many possible outcomes, but only one single destiny as a result of their collective contribution. Mikka stood for a moment to survey the scene before him. It was a typical space, large, cavernous. Two upper walkways ringed the room, accessed by gravity lifts. On the floor, storage containers had been organized in various manners, forming a maze of ordinance and perishables, with two large square spaces cleared under the gravity clamps for ships to dock. Not very professional, but they made due with what they had. Supply Crews. He would never understand them.

      When he'd finished his momentary panning, he turned about to find Snuggle and Kodos missing. Tras'Lok had taken Shade to be mended long ago, the sentries on policing duty were still spreading rumors. He shrugged. That was their business, he on the other hand was tired and hungry. When he arrived in the social areas of his assigned quarters, he found his companions waiting.

"We were considering finding a meal, would you honor us with your accompaniment?"

Kodos had replaced his fuel-rod and shield with gauntlets, ensuring that he could grasp whatever it was he wished.

"I would honor myself, standing by your side. Of course. Let us go."

      As was expected, the feasting hall was empty, with the lower ranks attending an entirely different area. They had the run of the place, and Snuggle did not waste this opportunity. She pocketed several green canisters before popping one open and swallowing the contents in one greedy swig. Kodos was far more deliberate, he rested in a hover chair, looking Mikka's way.

"You are troubled, what ails your mind?"
"I see now that combat has finished we are back to formality." He sat across from the Hunter.
"It is expected, we are being watched. Now enlighten me."
"The Arms-Master is planning a hostile takeover."

His bluntness was too much for Kodos, who grunted derisively and crossed his arms.

"Truly, I am far too tired for humor. Forget that I wondered."

      He shook his head. His troubles would remain his own. He keyed the chair's control and brought himself to a food dispensing machine, literally an aquarium inside which many fish floated. He snapped a medium-sized one up, cooked it in the waiting plasma beams and shoved it down his throat, crushing the thin bones in all and swallowing without so much as an impolite crack. His digestive organs would do the rest. Sated for the moment, he noticed Snuggle waddling up under the weight of her methane rebreather.

"I hate fighting, I wish we could just not fight.. And everyone could have whatever they wanted."
"That would be ideal, Snuggle. But the universe is not so simple."

      He felt as if he was speaking to a pup, and on some level he was. But Snuggle was far from that age, and had left such naivety behind long ago. He maneuvered to face her, forgetting, for the moment, the brooding Kodos.

"I know. But you have to be positive, see? Otherwise war gets to you. I mean, I try my best not to hurt. Hurting only gets hurting back, unless you hurt the bad guys, then throw them off the ship, but that's another story..."

Mikka caught on quickly; they were being watched, so Snuggle had to act her part. Stupid and compliant. But she was smarter than many believed.

"Correct, it is another story, and you are trying my patience. There are several flaws in your tale, vermin. That is only a possibility. Personally, I would simply kill my enemy. There can be no retaliation from the dead."
"Okay. But I wouldn't do that. See, I swore to protect my men, and if the bad guy has a grenade triggered to go when he dies-"

      Mikka kicked the little healer in the face, silencing any further chatter. She screamed, arms in the air as she ran from the room. He stood, purposefully following after to finish what he'd started. When the doors of the feast hall closed behind him, he offered the Hari-Key a hand.

"Did you have to kick so hard?" She was busily rubbing a fresh cut with some sort of salve.
"Would you rather Tras' supporters caught us? Kodos could care less. I am glad you kept your ears open."
"Well, the Lady did save us a grizzly death, whether she meant to or not. Things need to be repaid."

      He clenched one set of mandibles and began walking to the nearest console. If things were going to turn out the way he thought they would, he was going to need the firepower stored in the armory. The only problem would be getting the permit to gain access. That was where this console would help him.

      He began to write a formal letter before he realized there was a tab flashing. Those only occurred when an urgent message needed to be relayed to every console station operator. Letting curiosity get the better of him, he touched the flashing, indigo symbol.
There was an aging Torra on the screen.

"All Covenant, disregard this notice at your own peril. A terror stalks the corridors of the Uzumri, slaughtering our brothers and sisters without regard to position or occupation. The acting Master of the Armory has issued a general order. Weapons to every creature capable of holding them. If you sight whatever this beast, indeed this demon, is... relay its position. It must be destroyed before it can cause further difficulty. Gods be with us."

      The message simply cut off. This was going to be much easier that he'd first thought.
Without saying a word to Snuggle, waving and hoping she would follow, Mikka moved down the corridor at a jog, letting his eagerness show, but wary all the same. Perhaps the armory he was trying to find would be empty when he arrived? He turned to his only companion and decided to take a page from her book. Think positive, he decided, and things might turn out for the better. After checking to see that she was indeed following, he set off at a more confident pace, unconsciously checking out of the corners of his eyes, searching every shadow. If there was something about to ventilate his brains all over the next bulkhead, he decided that he would not fall without a determined effort to save himself.

"Ah, it is Mikka!" The flighty nasal voice behind him was apparently very glad.
"It took much time from my studies, brother. But here you are, found by my eyes at last."

      He turned, and was about to tell whoever was searching for him of his need to continue to the nearest armory when he realized something - in his haste he'd walked right passed it without noticing. Swallowing the knot of embarrassment in his throat, he stood at ease. The voice belonged to none other than Weilan, the Intejii who was apparently very closely connected to Tras'Lok. Floating to his side on some sort of gaseous sacs, with his massive, bulbous brain contained in a skull that was indeed nearly his entire body, Weilan looked his part. A giant brain crossed with a jellyfish. His many hundreds of strong grasping tentacles currently hung limp. It struck Mikka that he and his fellows were an offshoot of the prophet 'engineer' race. The only real threat to the prophets themselves, and thus in the Covenant controlled very strictly by implants that hindered their growth into whatever their pinnacle evolution was.

      Arriving back to the business at hand, he realized that Weilan was very rarely away from the ship's controls. Unless of course he had some form of business he deemed more important, which meant it was something very urgent indeed that drove him to seek Mikka.

"You want my ear, Master Intejii? Speak then, but do so quickly, I must obtain weapons from the armory."
"You will find that difficult, Mikka Masanee'."

Weilan lifted a tentacle into the air and pulled himself into the nearby observation room.

"The Quizal and their tiny allies, the Hari-Key, have already raided most of the unguarded weapons. Our resident Torra have been hard pressed to keep the mob at bay. The little fellows are, after all, most numerous of us. But thankfully easily cowed by displays of absolute power."

      He vanished into the darkness. Cautiously, Mikka followed. Overly talkative or not, the Intejii could be frighteningly cunning. As was expected Snuggle waited outside, growing more anxious by every unit that passed. The lighting in the room gradually went from dark, dim, to bright after the doors had closed. Avoiding the various consoles, he joined Weilan in the center of the room. It was a circular place, with a flat roof and floor. One side was dominated by windows, which were surprisingly clear given that Covenant engineers usually ran a network of fiber-optic nerves through them to keep the flow of information smooth, with as many possible routes that could be found. It was in this way that damaged sections could not interfere with the running of the various functions of any vessel.

"Greeting, to the realm of science and fact. An Intejii study set aside by our gracious monarch."
"I assume you know of the power struggle taking place."
"Indeed, we do. Its signs were apparent far earlier, simply harder to notice by you tiny-brained barbarians. No insults intended, honored Torra."

His tentacles shot out faster than Mikka could follow and manipulated something on the nearby controls before going limp again.

"That will deactivate the listening devices Tras'Lok and his followers have employed."
"Why so underhanded?" He wondered aloud. "The Arms-Master is an honorable person."
"To defeat Shade, he must be both decisive and creative. My analysis have shown me that he has been successful thus far, given her present misfortunes. She is not in healthy condition. Now, I am here to relay to you the position of the Intejii. I know of your intentions to support Shade in the coming power struggle, I have concluded this based off your flight to the armory. While your surface reason is simply self-defense, you carry an energy sword on your person. How you obtained it I won't bother researching but what is important is that you must see this transmission we recovered. It will clarify a few things."

      Once more Weilan whipped his tentacles into a frenzy, likely to decode some complicated security clearance. A holographic projector began to glow, producing a screen filled with the heavily decorated calligraphy of a highly ranked member of the Torra. Each painstakingly drawn character was represented in a bright greenish-purple by the computer.

"What is this?"
"A letter from one Arch-Spire 'Kreled', apparently the structure of the Lannaan is more vast than even I realized. And filled with many subtle warriors; warriors who would rather be without Shade."
"Why are you showing me this... correspondence?"
"Is it not obvious?" He sighed in an odd wailing chirp. "You have less time than you believe. To keep things simple, the Intejii support neither Tras'Lok nor Shade. We simply desire our freedom from the Covenant, and to that end do not wish to see strife tear our fragile rebellion apart from within."

He nodded quietly, digesting the information. Weilan continued.

"The letter I just showed you sheds some more light on the issue of this civil struggle, this is no spontaneous plot by the Arms-Master to usurp the seat of power. He is a good warrior, a loyal one worthy of respect. He does what he thinks to be right, guided by his own moral compass. That is his shortcoming as well as his strength. Judging by this text, Tras'Lok was ordered by a superior in the Lannaan to dispose of Shade so that the Doomharrow's core mission of separating from our mainstream brethren could continue without side-tracks and unnecessary displays of strength."

      He nodded again, remembering several times in the past few years the various battles that had occurred, the heavy-handed tactics they'd employed. The truth of it was, in the mind of a strategist Shade was far too accustomed to fighting the humans. He could understand the Lanaan perspective. But it was the wrong approach, they needed all the allies they could find, potentially dangerous or not.

"So, the Lady is a drain on resources that could better be allocated to combating the prophets and their false 'great journey'." Mikka crossed his arms.
"Yes, precisely. The Arms-Master being who he is initially knew that he could not simply kill Shade, his vows as a warrior preventing him from harming her and forcing him to safeguard her with every sacrifice possible. He could choose no single side, as he would dishonor himself by remaining loyal to one and betraying the other. It is all very intriguing, but painfully simple."
"Not so for others, Master Weilan." Mikka flattered his greater reasoning skill. "Please continue."
"Well," He floated higher, pleased with himself. "Given Shade's recent contact with the artificial intelligence we found, she has been unstable and paranoid. Physically weaker. Something is happening to her that has been very detrimental to her, having subjected herself to the pains she has, she is pushing herself passed her limit. Biologically modified or not, she is no invincible engine of destruction."
"What does Shade have to do with this rebellion?"
"Ah, so glad you inquire. Having displayed this weakness as a Leader of warriors, and suffering the crushing defeat at Halo, in which I admittedly lost many personal friends..."

He paused, drawing in a shaking breath before returning to his logical mode.

"Faith which was only partial before was further shaken. The Doomharrow assembled here on the Uzumri need a new master before they tear themselves apart. Tras'Lok can fill that void and satisfy his Lanaan superiors. He has the support of the troops, who openly agree with mutiny as the best course of action."

Mikka began to grow tired of standing and pushed himself up onto a nearby console. The Intejii having no need for chairs or benches tolerated none in their workspace. He returned his attention to Weilan.

"But there are those like you who believe that Shade can still move us toward our objective. The impatient fools high above do not share that sentiment. The problem lies in that Tras'Lok has become disillusioned with Shade as well. He is no longer quite so committed to her safety, which is why I implore you to assist your present legitimate mistress. If he maroons her on some backwater planet, she will not survive. I intend to save as many lives as I can. Help me, Mikka Masanee'."

      So, this Intejii was interested in doing what was right. To save as many lives as possible; to win their freedom from the prophets, these were both worthy goals. And Weilan had no reason to lie, so it was unlikely that he was being played for a fool.

      Mikka stood, resolved to carry through with this new mission. If that speech had been anything, it was inspiring. Perhaps he could make a difference after all; he would do as Weilan was doing, save as many lives as possible from this inter-rebel war.

"I will help you. By my freedom I swear this." He felt his heart beating faster and faster with every second. "I'll start with Shade."
"Excellent, my brothers and I will balance the emotions of the masses. Carry your plans into completion before things get violent."

He whipped his tentacles, cracking them off the floor.

"You will need these."

When he lifted those many tentacles again a large storage module had appeared.

"What is this?"
"Some of the more recent technology, honored Torra. From the Lanaan armory. Carbines, particle beam rifles, armor with active camouflage and stronger shielding. There are other surprises as well, but suffice it to say it is all very desirable. Very technologically advanced items. You will need them. Good luck."

      Kodos could carry the storage module; Mikka knew just by looking at it that it was far too heavy for him. Now that his mind was working again, he decided that he would find his companions. He would not waste the opportunity. Snuggle was right where he'd left her, looking very twitchy for her wait. She glanced at his face and found the certainty there, he could tell she was visibly relieved.

"Come quickly healer, the Feasting Hall. We must speak to Kodos."

      As they departed, the many-limbed form of Weilan hovered into the view of a nearby camera. His laugh was little more than a chortle, but it was somehow a very cold thing. A wicked little monster that slit the throats of sleeping children.

"Naïve."

The cloaked form next to him stepped out of a shadowed alcove and deactivated its camoflauge.

"I wonder how much of that was the truth?"
"Most was fact Arms-Master, I assure you. Don't become agitated, I am aware who my friends are."

The abnormally tall Tras'Lok was silent for a few breaths, his eyes pointedly watching the end of the corridor where Mikka and his Hari-Key subservient had just disappeared.

"Those items you handed to Mikka, have someone retrieve them. I will see to my... sovereign, before any of her possible loyalists might interfere. Assemble whomever might attend you into the shuttle bay. It begins."

Still walking away from information that would have been very valuable, had he known it, Mikka turned to Snuggle, who glanced up in response.

"This is bad." She'd beaten him to it. "There's no one around. Where is everyone?"
"It matters little, we must find Kodos. The fewer questions the better."

      They ran as quickly as their bodies would allow, Snuggle desperately gasping for breath. Fortunately for her, their destination was their position before even Mikka could fathom it. That had been much quicker than the last time they'd traveled this way. He had grown used to the distance. They marched into the near-vacant room much too quickly for any seasoned professional. There were no weapons aimed in their direction however. Only Kodos lay within. The Hunter had apparently begun pacing some time ago, he was as tense as Snuggle was, and that was an odd show of emotion from one so large.

"Ah, you have returned. I have reconsidered your words, my friend. The slime-covered Intejii has spoken to me. His words were persuasive."
"You will participate in this mission, then?" He was still uncertain, given the Hunter's previous dismissal.
"I will, speak what must be done, and it will be."

      His bass voice was a heartening echo in the vast emptiness. He arose to his full height, a staggering twelve feet, dropped his cumbersome shield and flexed a thick, clawed hand. These, Mikka surmised, were probably of the same nature as the spines on his back, capable of ripping even the largest of things in half. He took a few steps back so he could see them both, and went over the plan in his mind. A plan he had made all of mere moments ago, but it would suffice. It was after all better then having no plan. He inhaled, and before he could accept the knot in his throat for something larger than he was, he gave his orders. Simple, easily deciphered and to the point.

"You both know what Shade did for us below, on the Halo. Our mission is to return that favor. Kodos, in an Intejii observation room not far from here there is a cargo module, use the ship's sensors to find the room. Take the module and bring it to me. I will be waiting in the nearest Shuttle Bay."

The Hunter nodded and pounded his feet on the floor as he strolled off.

"Snuggle, restock your medical supplies and find prefab living materials. Return to me when you've done this."

      Realizing only after he'd sent them off that he would need to check on Shade's condition, he froze. Weilan had said that things were going to become unfavorable much sooner than rumors suggested. He had no reason to disbelieve that statement. But he could make it back in time.

      He set off once again, and it struck him, now that he was alone with his own thoughts and needed not put up the shield of confidence that the ship really was empty. It was unnerving, almost like the crew, the ground forces, the pilots and any other personage had simply vanished. He could hear his own hurried footfalls clapping off the floor, the soothing chime of hybrid biological-mechanical signals whistling through the walls. The lighting, once bright and uncontested by any gloom was now dim and claustrophobic. He was in some sort of lull, the eye of a thousand hurricanes. A place where the heroes of all species had come and gone, made their mark and passed into nothingness. An unrecognized sanctum to pause and reflect upon fate. Looking into the grayness cast by the interior of the ship, he could not help but think of one thing as he ran, how he would fail. He would not be fast enough to prevent Tras' supporters from bringing to bear their weapons on Shade, in the back of his mind he knew this. And it only resolved him to push harder, as frail for a Torra as he was, it could not be said that any member of his race in the history of time lacked both tenacity and determination to do what had to be done. He was one chosen by fate to do the most unpleasant of things. To go against the tide and become a minority that fought for change. Change almost always succeeded eventually.

      Full of that insulating thought, he arrived at the Medical Chambers close to the Shuttle Bay from which they'd returned from the Halo. With an apology already on his lips he entered, took in the computers, displays, lone Quizal, and empty stretcher. The telling mark of clear blood had seeped into its surface. The Quizal's eyes were wide upon seeing him, and its muscles frozen with terror.

"Harm me not!" It yowled.
"Where is she?" His calm but urgent tone did more than subtle threat of harm ever could.
"Tras'Lok took her to her quarters, he said. Gave healer's attention first, stabilized her condition then took her to rest. He went another way though, I followed. Shade may be Shade, but I never harm a patient. I heard them saying Shuttle bay, cargo bay, docking bay... or was it launch bay?"
"Which is it, healer? I have no time!"
"Shuttle bay!" The Quizal healer cried, finally certain of his observation. He began to laugh. "Helping a doomed rebel of rebels. One last thing before I die for claiming neutrality."
"What?"
"It's nothing to you, Torra. Leave this place."

      Figuring the sentence to be nothing more than the rambling of a being who thought itself dead, Mikka did just that; he had all that he needed from here. And by the looks of things, he had little time as it was, to halt his activities and debate about the troubles of others. The problem he faced now was possibly very frustrating. The healer had given him Shade's general location. This was uncontested. The problem lay in finding the correct Shuttle Bay, if he took too long to achieve that he would be too late to influence any proceedings. Judging from the talk he'd heard so far that would be very undesirable for Shade.

      He searched as patiently as he could for one of the endless interface panels scattered along the corridors, most had apparently just been deactivated by the unseen tentacles of an Intejii manning the bridge controls, so any that he did find were virtually useless. His mind verging on the edge of panic, he searched his memories for an answer, a way out of the defeat planned for him. The Uzumri was a ship built for war, and as such was engineered with the highest possible combat efficiency. Signal lines were scattered throughout the ship, if any of them were cut they could re-route and re-grow almost instantaneously, like the nerves of a brain. The consoles found in nearly every area were a direct result of that, as far as he could remember. They were present should the bridge or other major control centers be disrupted, not to mention the benefit of convenience. In case borders managed to access their functions any of these consoles could be shut down to prevent unauthorized access, a primitive lockdown given their lack of knowledge in the field of artificial intelligence.

      Even so, there was always a method of bypassing that failsafe. Why it was there he cared not, he simply needed it in this moment, in this time. If he were a Ship Master the most practical area he would place a fail safe... would be his personal quarters. Well-protected, far too obvious and thus the perfect hiding place. Unfortunately, also on the other end of the ship. He paced, silently cursing the gods for having placed him in such a fate, and kicked the wall in anger. Its quasi-luminescent surface yielded not at all, and only succeeded in bringing pain to his hoof. His head shook in defeat, hopeless. They had anticipated he would do this, hadn't they? Seen his thoughts even before he'd had the chance to think them, and planned accordingly. Shamed, he peeled his jaws back and felt a yell working up his body. Before he could finish, his communicator snapped him back to reality.

"Lord Mikka I don't know what you're doing, but I need more orders." Snuggle was almost hesitant to speak. "I know its bad to talk on the battle net now, but we have a job to do, I just want to do it."

      He blinked. Yes, they had a mission to complete. He had not done so horribly in his last one. To fail in this most important of charges was to acknowledge that he was unfit for his station. He would not do that. He had to bring them to their small little victory. He had to succeed.

"Snuggle-"

He stopped for a moment, an idea suddenly striking him. He had been outwitted, yes. But the battle was not over, and assistance could come from the most unlikely of sources. It was time his people learned that the Hari-Key were more than simple cannon fodder.

"Yes, my friend?"

She took in a wheezy breath. She had been working hard to carry out his order. If she could remain committed to their goal, so would he.

"Where are you?"
"Just above the Feast Hall, a supply room we Hari-Key made out of an old maintenance walk."
"Are there any working access terminals- interface consoles - nearby?"
"Yes, I'm standing-
"Excellent, I need your assistance. Access the security grid and view the cameras inside every Shuttle Bay until you find the one our brethren has gathered inside."
"Alright. Looking right now!"

      Her eagerness was refreshing, all he had encountered was failure. He quickly reminded himself of how much time he had. He needed an answer now. This was taking much too long. Why hadn't they just used the ship's scanners? It was too late for that, they had already begun. Switching to an internal scanner would only cause them to lose time. They would need luck on their side. Impatient and slightly annoyed, Mikka wanted to set off. If he did that, however, he could very well go in the wrong direction. Sighing, trying to control himself, he remained still.

"Have you found it?"
"Not yet." She had jumped slightly.
"Hurry Snuggle, the result of our mission depends on this!"

He could no longer contain himself, his muscles were trembling. To shame him as they had was a slap in the face, anticipating his every move like he was a child. Failing the debt he owed the one who had saved his life would be worse. That would not happen.

"I'm going as fast as I can, Mikka." She was practically shouting, as loud as his helm's speakers were registering the sound of her voice.
"Aha, there," a sharp sizzle followed by garbled sound concluded her transmission.
"Snuggle?" He paused. Had she been shot? Was it interference from an overlapping signal?

Either one was likely, but given the importance he'd placed on her it simply wasn't logical. She wouldn't abandon him without good reason. A brief flicker of clarity suddenly blew into his ears.

"That Shuttle Bay! Follow the red line!" Snuggle sounded triumphant.

      Several hot-sounding bolts sizzled into his hearing. A choked sob followed, and an explosion concluded. Stunned into silence, lost for words, his jaws hung limp. The words he had wished to say would not come to him. Too shocked to realize it, he was already running. One by one they were dropping dead, killed by superior enemies. But what struck him as the strangest thing of all, was that those enemies tended to be brother and sister more often than not. He would not let it happen again. One more reason for him to throw everything he had into saving Shade from whatever death had been planned for her so Tras'Lok could take her place. In the back of his mind, he knew he was moving faster every passing breath.

      When the red line ended and the doors were before him, he did not stop. This was perhaps, why he was so easily subdued. The doors parted and he saw many weapons, all leveled on him. Then searing white, with a sharp throbbing in the back of his skull. Purple blood hung lazily in the air over his eyes. Clawed feet. And then he was flying. He didn't feel himself impact the floor, and his standing was more reflexive than anything. Rapidly his hands searched for a weapon on his person, finding none. Slowly he balled his hands into fists, spread his feet apart.

For the first time, he could see.

      This room was large even by the standards of a carrier. It was simple in design, though it possessed the sole right to brag that it had by far the largest landing facilities in all the ship. Nearly ten stories high including the floor, with the nine other walkways circling around the room and easily accessed by gravity lifts, Seraph single ships waited on anti-gravity clamps for their next battle. Bright lights cast an eerie, ghostly glow everywhere. The floor itself was ornately tiled, filled with supplies and organized to the point of having been overseen by a very zealous cargo master. These things he took in only briefly, his main focus was much more important. Everywhere he looked, weapons glowed with cruel heat. The galleries of the Shuttle Bay were filled with warriors, standing shoulder to shoulder with a deafening chant on their lips. They'd rallied behind the only one who could lead them. The only one Mikka believed would never betray his sovereign. Sword blazing, Tras'Lok was the impetuous god of judgment, waiting high above for his time, a moment so perfect it could break a world with one small tensing of the hand

Rebirth - Rise and Fall
Date: 25 July 2005, 6:13 am

Author Note: We submitted 'Patient Chaos' a while back. Thats part of the series, we just forgot to add 'Rebirth' to it. For anyone who might wonder. Here it is, long overdue.

"These tunnels are so cramping."

As her voice glided to his mind, Shadow turned to EVA's projection, wavering in the dark shaft. A white light flooded in from one of the vents, illuminating her transparent body and silhouetting her already bright shape in an impenetrable glow. After staring down at the floor for hours, absorbed in the dark abyss of his thoughts, the act of looking up had forced him to squint a bit to make out the figure that was surrounded by the near-white haze. She seemed nothing less than an angel, floating in the sky of his imagination.

"I wonder what they must have been feeling when it happened. It must have been the most horrible thing in the world," he finally muttered.
"You do know that none of the Covenant on this ship had any part in their deaths."
"I know. But someone has to bear the punishment. There are none more suited than those things that walk below us."
"You're wrong, Takan. I hope you realize this before it's too late, because I don't want to be here when everything goes wrong."

Piercing, blue eyes stared out at Shadow's broken face, and she shook her head. He had become a monster, though one that she knew well. He had become this creature of such horrid proportions that she could recount every aspect of this new darkened personality without a twitch. He was far too stubborn for her to ever convince him of some sort of rational solution, and he was too beyond logic to even listen to the facts that stood before him. She could leave now, escape through the Covenant battle networks and find her own means for establishing the safety of mankind. But it all seemed so wrong. Perhaps the personality facet of her sentience had become attached to him and couldn't bear to leave him. No. That would be the cold, calculating method of analyzing her relationship with him. She wouldn't abandon him, for it would be treason. Such an act was morally deficient. As Shadow might put it, there was no honor in such a decision.

"Well pray that nothing goes wrong, because you're stuck with me."

He knew all too well that she could leave. But they had become far closer than friends in the many years of their partnership, and he knew that neither could fathom an existence without the other. They seemed to be more or less two components of the same being; two minds that would never part. EVA would yell at him, become angry with him, and perhaps even hate him, but she would never abandon him.

"That may not be such a bad thing."

There was a moment of pleasant silence. And then it came. That revelation that seemed to be walled from his thoughts for so long. Frozen in his feelings, soft echoes of music escaped from his earphones and reverberated into the depths of the shafts beyond. He realized that he wasn't completely alone, as his heart had been telling him for the past few hours. The AI had been his only companion for a long time now, the only thing keeping him sane and logical.

"So what do we do now?"
"We find Shade, and end it all."

EVA didn't respond. Instead, her image disappeared, replaced by a fairly large, transparent map that projected itself in front of Shadow's face and partially obscured his ability to see further into the shaft. It was exceedingly detailed, indicating each camera and computer access point, as well as numerous useful weapon locations. EVA must have been compiling all her gathered information for a while now. At the center was a yellow dot, indicating his current location, and a red dot in the upper corner, clearly the location of Shade. After a few seconds, numerous pathways were displayed for arriving at the location. Three possible options involved him dropping into the main hallways in order to access the hangar. His prey lay within. However, those possibilities were instantly ruled out. He wouldn't be showing his face in the main corridors. Not when he was so close to obtaining his goal and completing his act of justice. There were two more routes. The first led through numerous dangerous energy routers in the engineering section of the ship. It was a rather quick method of arriving at his goal, but he was more than likely to end up less than alive. The last choice seemed to be the most roundabout, covering nearly half the ship in a number of maze-like twists and turns. However, it would be the only way that he could ensure that he'd be able to get to his target, and that was indeed of primary concern. EVA had already known which path he'd take, and after a few seconds of showing all the pathways, she took down all but the one that she knew he had chosen.

And so began the long trek through the Uzumri; the dark mysteries of its hidden passageways remained unseen. Nodding to EVA, he instantly broke into a near-run in the tight shaft. It was then, as his body scraped along the rough interior of the maintenance shafts that he finally recognized the shoddy condition that his body and clothes were in. Though they had already been in a worn out state before he had arrived on the ship, his shirt and pants were torn and ripped beyond repair. Of the "scarf" that covered his face, there was little left but a rag that could do little to conceal his face. His weapons, however, were in pristine condition. They were the gems of the rough that was his figure. Earlier, when he was in quiet waiting, he had placed each weapon down on the floor of the shaft and attended to the preservation of these tools of destruction. After all, it was the weapons that saved his ass from getting fried, not whatever clothing that happened to be on his back. Cuts and bruises were all over his body from moving recklessly in the shafts. These were compounded by the injuries that he sustained in the small skirmishes that he had initiated to momentarily satiate his anger. By all standards, he was an absolute mess, little more than a miserable excuse for a soldier, an assassin no less. Indeed, his exterior was far from impressive, something that any passive onlooker might find little to praise.

Regardless, he continued silently through the shafts, moving at an increasing pace. Each turn came faster and faster until his feet nearly slipped out from under him whenever a corner presented itself. However, he was a master of himself, a scholar of his own limits and barriers. He knew exactly when his legs would finally give out on him, and he made sure to push himself right to that limit. And yet, his attention was partially diverted. He had not only his own movement to be concerned with, but also the navigation on the map. However, he managed to multitask these events with fine precision until he finally came near his goal a full fifteen minutes later.

He arrived at a dead end with a small grate blocking his pathway. He peered through its vented openings into a very large hangar, full of what seemed to be nearly the entire crew of the ship. The hangar was stories upon stories high, each level filled to the brim with rambunctious soldiers. The shape of the gargantuan thing was something less of the traditional box-shaped room that was characteristic of his own race. Rather, it seemed to be a creature of its own, bending and curving according to its own whims. However, if it were to be characterized by any one shape, it roughly resembled that of an oval. Each level was riddled with dropships, banshees, and other assorted unidentified flying craft. These objects partially blocked his view, though he could fortunately make out the main incident at the center of the hangar. The vent that he kneeled in was of a size that allowed him to view the event below him with some amount of panoramic vision. In fact, it proved to be a very little hindrance indeed. He looked up, and the purple ceiling stared back at him. He was at the top of this monolithic space. With such a distance from any enemy soldiers, this was a perfect indoor sniper nest.

Staring through to his surroundings, he looked about himself to see what the purpose of this commotion was. The soldiers were packed in tight, full of rowdy, agitated watchers. They were the wave, and it was growing closer and closer to the middle section of the hangar. Ebbing and flowing, it relentlessly flowed closer and closer to two figures that stood at the raised platform in the center. He squinted, but was able to decipher only two small dots that had such little detail that he couldn't even make out their species. He pulled down his sniper rifle and peered through the scope. Scanning slowly across the platform, he watched carefully and was able to spot an elite clad in glowing white armor. Tras'Lok. What was he doing at the center of this mob? He looked about a bit more, seeing a humanoid figure standing only a ways off from Tras's position. Shade. Statistics began streaming through his thoughts. Clear shot. Hidden and escapable firing position. High chance of success. With all the noise of the Covenant crewmen, it would be unlikely that any would hear him or see him in the dark corner. Everything seemed to be in order. He slowly unlatched the grate and lowered it into the shaft behind him. Prepping his rifle, he lowered the weapon into his arms. Strangely enough, he felt almost as if the weapon were different, as if it were the first time he was handling the thing. It had always felt comfortable and his motions always practiced, though the current realities seemed to contend differently. He shook his head and awkwardly placed the rifle onto his shoulders and looked through the scope. Scanning the hangar floor once more to spot any irregularities that may have an impact on his mission status, he continued searching the crowds and the immediate area near Tras and Shade's positions, wondering what he might find. Looking closely, he could see an elite soldier pushing his way through, as if to join the two enigmatic characters on the platform. Other than this one soldier, there wasn't of much interest except the rising disturbance coming from the crowds of Covenant. Peace seemed to be a thread ready to break here. He would have to strike quickly if anything was to get accomplished before utter chaos broke out. He brought up his rifle, the sights aimed squarely on Shade's human head. However, a sudden boom of a voice quieted the entire arena into a death-like silence, the wave quickly calmed. It was Tras.

"Brothers, Sisters. Join me now in our true struggle," the voice started.

Shadow lowered his rifle for moment, staring at the crowds who were clearly awaiting some dramatic turn of events in great anticipation.

"Long have you waited in the darkness, and long have you been promised a false light. Hear my words and heed them. This ends now!"

As the words left his mouth, the crowd began to grow in its rising destructive force.

"No longer shall we be slaves to 'destiny', to the desires of creatures who would use us! Today we are truly free, for today we are led by our own. We will free our brethren from the prophets! Join with me in this, and find what was promised. Find salvation. If we cannot be brought there, then we shall bring it here! Freedom for the Covenant! Death to the creatures of false promise! Death to our fool masters, and death to their instrument, the beast that stands before you."

With each exclamation made, the crowds responded in kind, creating a huge roar with the end of each of his shouts.

"Do I slay it now?"

Very few questions could be answered so definitively. Beginning in a mesh of indecipherable cries, the voices soon began to chant in time, its message becoming dismally clear.

"Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Tras wasn't finished with playing the role of the reaper. Shadow raised his rifle again, the sights set again on Shade. He could kill her now, before the unimaginable storm began. But alas, he knew satisfaction would not come as free spirit if he were to kill her now. She would die regardless, and he wanted a scenario where his shot was the sole, unexpected death of her. He wanted her to die by his hands alone, not have his shot be a simple exclamation to what her inevitable fate would be.

She seemed so pitiful, clearly not in a state of lucidity or understanding. She could only partially comprehend her situation and partially realize what her fate may be. She seemed so much like him, for she appeared to be a human after all. And what evil had she done? None that he knew of. Would her death satiate the masses? Would her death satiate him?

"I see your fury but I do not hear, do I kill it now!?" Tras continued.

The answer was far beyond mere words. For Shadow, it was an impossible silence shattered only by the sharp crack of an energy sword. His eyes instantly snapped to the source of that disruption, an elite plated in the golden armor of a Zealot. A creature who had personally slaughtered hundreds of his enemies. A creature that would doubtlessly kill Shade as well. Shadow would not allow that. Where once his hands had been besieged by tremors, they were steady and calm. His heartbeat slowed, his fingers worked with precision. His blood did not boil in his veins; they did not stir. It was ice cold, colder than the metal of the weapon he gripped. And ultimately far more deadly was Shadow in this moment than any who remained on the Uzumri. A slight depression of the trigger was all it took. The Elite's skull shattered like a cracked eggshell, spraying blood and bone fragments all over the floor. What remained wept a fine mist into the air that settled only a moment later.

Mesmerized, Shade watched the Elite fall at her feet, coated with his life. Did she know how close she'd come to death?

Shadow did not dwell on it.
Two shots and two bodies later, the Covenant were rushing forward in a tidal wave of motion, their armored feet bringing rise to a poetic sort of rumble; like a biblical passage; a thunderous storm of sound that played as a harbinger to what these fanatical warriors would do to any enemy. Such things were reminiscent of heavy rainfall, and in this case it would be a mighty rain of blood indeed. None seemed to notice or care that three had fallen under mysterious circumstances; their attention was occupied by the sole obstacle that contested their victory. And then he saw a familiar face. It was the Elite who'd pushed into the center of the room earlier on. He'd somehow taken up a weapon, although it was a makeshift club that seemed of little use. That he hadn't been overwhelmed by the shear weight pressing against him was more than enough to demonstrate what a fearsome thing he must have seemed. He didn't appear to be lost in fits of anger, though it surely trembled underneath each and every muscle. His face was almost placid, but his eyes suggested a whirlwind of cool murder.
 
"Such are the cowardly turned courageous, by the higher ideal! Die, my gutless brethren!"

The elite dodged several different blows and forced to retreat back, he hoisted Shade over one shoulder and interposed a wrecked seraph between himself and those who sought to end his charge's life. His cry had only barely reached Shadow's ears, but it was clear that the Elite was far from daunted by the wave of onrushing foes. He must have once been fearful, only now he seemed infused with something beyond even one of his formidable race. A sort of battle-rage that was not rage, a thing that came only when one fought for something more than self-preservation. Shadow felt a twinge of recognition, and his mind briefly flashed back in time, to a barren and open battlefield. There waited a wall of human weaponry, armor, snipers, marines, even Spartans. And the wave of Covenant had still charged forward to their deaths. The first Elite to fall had known it would die, then. And yet, he had still charged fearlessly into battle, giving all that he had.
Perhaps this one guarding Shade was no different.
 
"What are you going to do?" EVA was strangely resigned.
"I'm going to watch."
"Those two are going to die Takan, they don't deserve this."
"Is there a problem?"
"Don't tell me that you're really going to pull this." The AI seemed more human than he himself did. She was wrong about one thing, though. Neither the Elite nor Shade herself was going to die. The Hunter cutting his way toward them on the other side of the room was evidence enough of that. He carried a cargo-module across his back, which he used to create a path for himself. Any who stood in his way were crushed, and those who moved did well to avoid the swinging, purple bone-breaker. All avoided him, and did not even stab at him from behind for fear of being torn apart by the spines on his back. Shadow smiled and fired a half a dozen more shots into those that had managed to draw dangerously close to Shade and her guardians.

From the floor, Mikka watched as the room lights caught something in the vent. It was a brief flash that he dismissed immediately, and he fell back in the face of a fresh opponent who had just joined him in combat. He was losing ground rapidly, and if not for the appearance of Kodos, he would have fallen then and there. Alas, this was not to be. What ground he'd lost became his again through the intervention of the Hunter. Ferocious as both were, there was nothing to stop such a wave. Mikka understood this fact and motioned to Kodos to one of the exit doorways. Kodos grunted in response, tearing a pathway for Mikka to escape. Plasma fire rained down upon the two in such great force that Mikka feared that Shade would be torn apart had he not dived through the now open doorway that stood before him. The hulking Hunter himself stood at the doorway, knocking countless fools into oblivion before backing out of the entrance. At the command of Mikka at a control panel, the doors slid shut just as the hunter managed to pull back.

"It may seem that we are outnumbered," huffed the exhausted Kodos.
"Indeed. Our only chance at ensuring the safety of Shade for any longer would be to head to the escape pods."
"We would be shot down immediately."
"No one has hold of the gunner positions at this point. It will take some time before Tras may organize his newfound army."

Kodos nodded silently, and they made their way quickly through the halls. It wouldn't be long before the wave would find an alternate route to their temporary safe haven.

The airways of the Uzumri were alive once more as Shadow sped his way through the maze of tunnels.

"What the hell happened over there?" asked the bewildered EVA.
"I missed Shade. Twelve times."
"Right…"
"Where's the bridge?"
"What are you planning?"
"My revenge, of course."

The AI seemed to pause for a moment, probably in contemplation.

"Here is the most direct pathway."

Shadow nodded, and faded into the depths of the ship.

Elsewhere, Mikka and Kodos had reached the destination of their short travel.

"The task is complete, the doors are completely locked down. Only direct force may break through to our position."
"Stack some heavy items in front of it. I still need more time to bypass the locking system on this escape pod."

A loud resounding thud was raised at the entrance, quickly followed by many others.

"They've arrived."
"The lock has been bypassed. Give me a few more seconds to bring Shade inside and initiate the ejection sequence."
"Mikka, they're breaking through."
"It is done. The launch sequence is beginning. Get inside."

Kodos stepped inside, and the hatch closed only moments before the doors to the escape pod bay was sent to the other side of the room from some explosion. If any were perceptive enough to look through any of the nearby windows, they would see a lone escape pod hurtling towards the nearby halo at a breakneck speed. Shade was safe…for now.

The bridge was uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, it was the location of blinking lights, ringing sirens and chaotic correspondence with the rest of the ship. However, at this time, there were only a few of the crew there to ensure that the Uzumri didn't mistakenly crash into the halo or shut down any critical systems. With the grate at the roof of the bridge suddenly falling to the ground, the room was bound to be much quieter in a few seconds. And so it was. Shadow stepped to the controls as the last of the skeleton crew fell to the ground, and looked among the controls. To his surprise, before he could touch anything, an image made itself known at the main screen. It seemed to be some kind of video communication. What faced him was unlike anything the mere human had ever seen before. Syidu was likewise surprised to see a human on a ship full of Covenant. Shadow looked to EVA, who was already translating some of the Covenant's battle codes to Shadow's arm device. He made a special note of the defense weapon systems code that stood among the list of commands. If this message were coming from outside of the Uzumri, then his safest method of defense would clearly be to activate the ship's defenses and hope for the best. For now, however, he'd wait. Syidu stared at the human for a few moments before breaking the silence between the two.

"A human…curious," said Syidu, with a clear level of intrigue.
"…And you are?"
"Forerunner."

There was a slight pause as Shadow searched his memory for that word and its meaning. He could find only a few bits of information, knowing very little of what a "Forerunner" was.

"What do you want?"
"Some information. Before I kill you, of course."
"Anything else?"

Shadow smiled and activated the ship's self defense mechanisms. He watched Syidu's face turn from surprise, to confusion, and eventually some level of anger.

"Tak! Tras and his guards are coming!" exclaimed the worried EVA.
"Time left."
"Approximately 4.6 seconds."

Shadow nodded, walked to the bridge's entrance, where he could almost feel the presence of that very creature that interested him so much. Reaching over his shoulder and pulling out his sniper rifle, he smiled to himself and aimed the gun right where he knew Tras's head would be. And indeed, his head appeared right on target as the doors slid open. A small band of what seemed to be newly assigned personal guards accompanied the new leader of the Uzumri.

Disturbing, however, was Tras's lack of surprise or a physical gesture that demonstrated some kind of shock. Indeed, Tras simply walked up to the barrel of the gun and stared straight into the assassin's own eyes with cold indifference. Ice, it seemed, had grown across his arms, the sniper rifle held in place. It had become the essence of his body itself, as he found himself unable to move.

However, that moment of deadly silence was shattered with the sirens of an incoming wave of attacks.

"The Uzumri's defenses will hold, but not for long, human. I'm sure you are aware of that."
"Step back, Tras'Lok."
"That, I cannot do. Will you endanger the lives of the entire crew simply because you wish to have Shade's head?"

The two enemies stared each other down for a few more seconds. Shadow was the first to dart his eyes to the side, though only for a moment before they locked back in with Tras's dark spheres. Holding his position for a moment more, he lifted his rifle and stepped to the side.

"What are you doing?" whispered EVA.
"Letting Tras save his crew."
"He has everything. You have nothing to bargain with. What are you doing?"
"I don't know. For once, I don't know."

Rebirth - Escape and Rescue
Date: 10 August 2005, 1:03 am

Death was highly overrated.
The cold, silent loneliness it wrought was nothing compared to the horrors that unbelievers and heretics were supposed to feel. In fact, she felt right at home there alongside faded memories, the old ghosts of thought. Such memories were listless…useless.
The visions haunted her still, a woman with flowing hair and caring eyes; a woman who bore wisdom like a second skin; a woman who resembled her and was not her.
But this woman was not alone, for her memory was accompanied by another, a man with a cruel face and loving, gentle hands.
So too drifted a song that lingered even when it was not welcome, given life by two voices that had no identity and no importance. What was most unsettling was her subconscious belief that something was indeed very wrong, that there was indeed a greater awareness than what was currently being experienced. It was a world beyond blackness, full of strange, unfamiliar pictures that composed her reality. Then she heard voices and her wonderings were replaced with calculations. No. Emotions, rather.
"The snow is going to make her condition far worse, if such a thing is possible." This voice was familiar. She recognized it and searched for a name or a face, but found none. All she could recall was pain, and she did not want to be hurt again. She could take no more punishment. If she begged, would they no longer harm her?
Inside she pleaded, doing her best to speak. Then she heard a distant echo of her thoughts.
 
"No," Was all she heard in response. The first awareness of her own body was in the way of a slight twitch. "She falls more ill by the moment, Kodos, hurry!"
"I proceed as hastily as I can, hold what warmth you are able."
"I am trying, you must hurry before her condition becomes irrevocable!"
"Calm, friend. Your emotion will do us no good here."
 
Emotion.
That was feeling. She deciphered that easily. It was unpleasant, she decided. Carefully she caught that emotion by its metaphorical throat and strangled it.
 
"Kodos, you are right of course. But stone-logic could lead us into our own graves. We must be careful."
"Of course," The second voice replied casually.
 
Logic…could lead one to a grave. A grave was a bad thing. Graves meant death…the end of an existence. If logic and emotion were wrong, she would destroy them both. With emotion strangled, she beat logic senseless. Little did she know that neither of these meant a thing much worse and alien than either of them when they were twisted to suit wrongful purposes.
It was a simple, subtle thing. Insanity.
 
She saw a great blue sky that moved always in one direction, very quickly. So quickly she could not register what was happening, merely smiled in contentment. It was a nice blue, like the pedals of a flower. She closed her eyes and let the sight lull her into calm. She was most certainly freezing, but she was mostly numb to that feeling. The next thing she knew warmth was slowly reawakening her, gently calling frayed nerves back to their functional selves, though she could not understand why there were little creatures crawling all over her skin. Sometimes they bit, and hurt. Other times they were oddly still. But that was unimportant, she had a… something. She had a physical form.
This opportunity could not go to waste. Revitalized, curious to see what she was, exactly, she opened her eyes for the first time.
 
Bright!
The world was a blinding place filled with yellows, whites and crimson reds that burned at the eyes. She closed them, her advance thrown back. It was better to keep them closed, she realized. The world was an unforgiving place, and she no longer wanted pain. So slowly, little by little she turned her head, faced the dimmer regions she felt comfortable risking, and opened her eyes again. No painful bright things attacked her, and so she continued to stare. Who, what… why was she?
No answer became apparent.
So she stared, and felt nothing, and knew little. And kept on staring, feeling nothing; knowing little. The trouble was, she couldn't break that reverie. 
 
Mikka wondered how long she would last here.
He couldn't feel the cold, of course, but he had personal shielding. And Kodos was in fact thousands of tiny Kodos, all sharing heat. He would be fine. He nodded as a new idea struck him. They were well protected from the elements, but the dampness of the cave would have to be dispelled. He immediately set about building a fire. The storm outside would disguise it from view. Sometimes it was better to rely on the natural to survive.
As Kodos gathered the necessary materials, he began to grow frustrated with the natural way of doing things. The gods-forsaken wood just wouldn't combust. Eventually he decided to ignite the flames with a plasma rifle. He was far more successful that time.
 
"Nothing treads near, we are safe for the moment." The Hunter meekly played the part of sentry.
  "That is good. Yet I cannot help but wonder where we are."
"We are on Holy Ring. In a frozen climate, surrounded by beasts that would kill us."
He allowed an incredulous expression to show, curling into a tight ball for comfort and giving one final instruction to his companion before dozing off. He was exhausted.
 
Never once had Kodos taken his attention off his true task, to guard against any threats. Even as he gathered what Mikka had asked, he always kept himself well aware of what was going on to the best he could be expected to.
 The generally cautious Hunter stared out into a never-ending snowfall and thought of his bond-mate. Despite that crippling blow, delivered as he was slain, Kodos persisted. He held no grudge, it had been his own fault. He would not think of it, however. Not now.
There were more important things he could do. Such as watch and forget, some things were better left to the past. He could hear the crackling of the flames, pitifully small against the vibrant whistle of wind outside. It was a quiet moment, rare in his recent life. He would appreciate it as fully as he could.
He shook off the light coating of snow that seemed to choose solely him to rest upon. It was growing annoying, chilling. Kodos moved closer to the heat of the fire they'd made.
 
It was strange how feverish Shade was acting, her condition was beyond his simple, some would say barbaric wisdom. This thing that plagued her was more than just a malady or a disorder of the brain, it was a sickness of the soul. He tried to find some empathy, but learned that he had none- not for this one.
He felt loneliness when he looked in her eyes, which stared at him. Passed him.
It wasn't long before he found himself watching the cave entrance again.
 
"Why must the Control Rooms forever remain under a glacier?" He huffed. "Far be it from me to ask for a warmer place."
A great boom wrenched him from his thoughts.
High above, something was happening. He could hear it even through the storm, and that, he knew; was most certainly astonishing. It was time to wake Mikka.
 

The Uzumri had quite literally fought tooth and nail for that display of pyrotechnics.
The moment they'd ejected the escape pod, their enemies had fallen over the ship like flies to a well-worn corpse. These Forerunner were persistent, sly and powerful. A worthy opponent for any Torra, though Tras'Lok grudgingly admitted that he was far out-classed.
Still, his spirit would not relent, and so when the single-ships began strafing the hull, he was the solid pillar on which a great thing was erected.
 
"We should run."
The Covenant continued what tasks they had set themselves to perform with calm and diligence. Even Shadow's pragmatic voice could not break his aura of command. If they were to survive it would be by his word alone.
 
"I am aware, honored Human. But I shall not withdraw from this field until the pod is safely away."
"Fine." He shook his head. "What do we do?"
 
The deck shuddered as a mine detonated nearby.
Whatever damage incurred was purely superficial, as it was the Uzumri who would score the first blow. Under the expert guidance of several pairs of Torra hands the point defenses let loose everything they had, setting up fatal cross-fires. Several hostile signatures faded off the displays as the massive warship kicked into motion.
 
Going from standstill to breakneck speed was a daunting process, they were essentially giving the enemy a giant bulls-eye as they accelerated to maneuvering speed. Shadow knew these 'Forerunner' would use that advantage to do whatever damage they could. He'd been given no options, which meant he was expected, he realized, to offer whatever advice he had. He started to think.
 
To call it a prospective battle would be a large overstatement. A single ship, still reeling from conflict both internal and external, was set to combat a fleet of technologically superior craft. Even more unfortunate was that this armada was in better formation and better prepared for the clash. Indeed, this was not to be a battle. It was going to be a slaughter, the elimination of a single craft: the Uzumri.
 
"I've calculated the odds of our survival," whispered EVA to Shadow.
"I don't want to know."
"What are we going to do? Do you think Tras has the cunning to…"
"I don't know. I do what I can to help."
"Even if we escape, you're a prisoner here. You're a dead man. You're trapped on the bridge with the ship's most dangerous soldiers. You're, as you might say, fucked."
"We'll see."
 
Tras was barking out orders at an impressive rate, now, simultaneously preparing the Uzumri for battle and establishing his right as the new leader the ship. With Tras, there was no hesitation. Every command was carried out in an utmost precision and to its ultimate completion. There was no conflict of interest and no hope for change. Tras was in command of the Uzumri, and there was no question as to his legitimacy as Ship's Master.

"We must escape, Tras."
"Human, I refuse to commit such an act. We shall stand until the pod has landed on the Halo without disruption."
"Then let us at least have some cover from that massive armada."
"What do you suggest?"
"There's a large asteroid cluster nearby. I say we use it for cover."
"A veritable deathtrap, human. This forerunner armada would fire indiscriminately into the field. Detonation of those large pieces of rock will surely send large hunks into our hull."
"I doubt that they would take such a tactic. I may be on the bottom of the evolutionary ladder here, but I can estimate the firepower and tactics of an enemy very well. Whoever leads that armada seemed to me one of precision and exactness. Firing like that into a field of largely unknown substances would seem foolish in his mind. He will enter the field and weed us out, I am sure. Until then, we will buy time for both Shade and the crew of this ship."
"A simple plan, human. Perhaps it may work in the end."
"Hurry up. They don't seem to be hitting us hard, their full-scale weaponry must not be in full range yet."
"Understood."

Tras turned from Shadow, evidently to carry out the plan that had just been laid out.

"I want the ship to be redirected towards the asteroid field. As the ship comes broadside, I want all plasma torpedoes on the starboard side to be fired at the nearest possible enemy target. When we are finished, redirect all power to the shields and main engines. You all know what must be done in your respective stations, I need not walk alongside each of you in this moment. This is a critical maneuver, and it must be carried out with the utmost care. Am I heard?"
"Yes Sir!" resounded a united crew.

And so the Uzumri began its swift rotation, being impaled by various sorts of increasingly damaging weapons all the while. Each blast from the Burning Eternal glanced off the Uzumri's shields making it seem, temporarily at least, like a bright star in the dead of the black space. Such a bright light seemed to make the Uzumri a beacon of hope, or at least a sign of intensity. The beauty of the ship at this moment of defense was made all the more jaw dropping as the attacks became more numerous and the activation of the shields more rapid. The attacks tore at the ship more viciously and more often than in the previous moment, becoming more and more difficult to ward off. Soon, the sight was not of a ship that was graced momentarily by that of the elegant light from the shields, but rather of a ship that was constantly enclosed by this shell, never given the opportunity to deactivate and recharge.

How could a ship be such a pearl in this sea of blackness? Indeed, the fact that its image in battle was so graceful and stunning was simply a testament to its very purpose as a ship of war. Only in battle was the Uzumri so staggeringly bright and strong.

Even under the attack, the shields must fall for but a moment. And indeed they did, the bright star becoming a silent creature that was nonetheless the same knife in the dark. The shields lowered, and the plasma torpedoes were away, lighting the swimming surfaces of the ship once again with a brilliant blue light. The torpedoes sped away, the knights of the Covenant charging to their doom in battle. The Uzumri continued its rotation, the end accented by the sudden engagement of the ship's engines as it sped away.

The Uzumri's retreat would have to be quick, as the recently fired torpedoes would do little halt the beast that hunted the beleaguered Covenant force. Shadow looked through the rear viewing port just in time to watch the torpedoes make contact. The blue of the torpedoes disappeared for a moment, lending a brief visual quiescence. But this break in the fireworks of space were once again interrupted by the detonation of the ships that were the Uzumri's next victims in battle.

"Well, that's a few down. Only a couple dozen to go," Shadow remarked.
"We will not have to eliminate the rest of the fleet just yet. We are nearing the asteroid field and are preparing for an emergency deactivation of all active systems."
"Lets just hope they can't still find us for a while."

Panels began flashing everywhere.

"What the fuck is going on?"
"The Forerunner have decided to send a single volley at us. Each ship has fired in unison. We will not reach asteroid field in time."
"Hundreds of lethal bolts, no doubt. Well, how much energy does the ship's shields have?"
"Not enough for this kind of blow."
"Then what must be done?"

Tras stared at Shadow for a moment before turning back to the bridge controls.

"I have a tactic that may prove successful, though it has yet to be implemented correctly in the grand history of our race. We will detonate our shields, sending out a wave of energy around us. It will detonate or phase out any projectile that is currently aimed at us."
"Do it. And do it fucking quickly. We have only moments before impact."

The bright light that surrounded the Uzumri faded away, its place taken by an enormous globe of energy that spread across the vast battlefield. It would have little effect on the aggressors, but it would ensure that any incoming piece of damaging equipment sent towards the Uzumri was neutralized. And so the action carried out its function to its fullest, the detonation of all Forerunner blasts becoming a wall of fire as they all detonated at the same time. A veritable firestorm, the magnitude of the explosion resulting from all the simultaneous explosions was of little consequence with its distance from the quickly retreating Uzumri.

"And so, my respect for the Elite race becomes all the more apparent," muttered Shadow to himself.

The now shieldless ship halted, its position on the other side of a very large asteroid. The engines died, their bright lights slowly fading away. Any external illuminations were deactivated, and the Uzumri became as black as the night of space. Within the main deck, numerous lights went out. Those that didn't disappear were lowered to a more appropriate level of visual excitation. The Uzumri now slept…with one eye open of course.

Moments passed. Several more. Quiet.

EVA turned to Shadow.

"We'll lose. They aren't chasing us into the field because they are sending in crews to find and steal Shade away from us."
"That isn't something we can help right now, EVA."
"The human AI is correct, human," Tras interjected. "We will fail in our mission, if we let Shade's new roof be that of the Burning Eternal."

Before a response could be made, a rumble made itself known. The rocking became more and more violent as a crack seemed to appear in the very fabric of space. Like a demented spider's web, the fracture spread through the walls of space, becoming more and more devastating. The rocking within the bridge of the Uzumri seemed absolutely unbearable. There was no doubt that casualties were being experienced at this very moment.

And after only moments of being present, it disappeared again.

The time rift was gone. Space had become reality once more. Shadow, badly bruised from the intense rocking, quickly rose to his feet and looked out of the main window. Gunfire. Throughout the Forerunner armada. The Fighter/Bombers looked to have veered off in supporting of their larger Command Ship. What was going on?

"What the hell?" asked Shadow with some level of absolute astonishment.
"Whatever it may be, human, we shall take advantage of this situation that the Forerunner seems to be steeped in. We shall find Shade."
"You will?"
"No. We will."
"Since when was I involved in this whole escapade?"
"Human, you boarded this ship with all intentions of weaving your own story with Shade and her experiences. Do you truly wish to end it now? You shall come with me and help me save her. At the very least, you will be exercising your skills as a fighter."
"None of those are incentives for me. But I will join you for my own reasons. I am not on your side. I only happen to be at the same place with the same goals. Nothing more."
"Understood, human. You will be given all the supplies that you require."

We are NOT Bungie, Inc.! Bungie Inc. are bungie.net!
Halo © Bungie Inc., 1999-2012, Microsoft 2012-2024
Intellectual © halo.bungie.org, 1999-2024