Halo: Safewind

==Plot Summary==
==Dramatis Personae==
Point of View
File:NoahSowka.png|Noah Sówka|link=Noah Sówka
File:OttoHall.jpg|Otto Hall|link=Otto Hall
File:EmerProfile.png|Éimhear|link=Éimhear
File:Selim.png|Selim Çelik|link=Selim Çelik
Supporting
File:FelixGoudreax.png|Felix Goudreau|link=Felix Goudreau
File:CoemanORION2.png|Ashley Coeman|link=Ashley Coeman
File:MalakYoung.png|Malak Joyner|link=Malak Joyner
File:ZavyZav.png|Záviš Souček|link=Záviš Souček
File:LeenaKadri.jpg|Leena Kadri|link=Leena Kadri
File:Satomi.png|Satomi Sasaki|link=Satomi Sasaki
Additional POV/Supporting
Yvette Kelsi 
Josef da Costa
Fedor Volkov
==Halo: Safewind==
===Prologue===
Yvette Kelsi
Stormfalcon
:17 Kilometers outside Toruń
:Mazovian Wilderness
:April 9, 2538
The call had come in this morning. Yvette and the others were still loading up the back of the Stormfalcon when Jori and Axel drove south down the dirt path with the Spade. She sat on a crate of freeze-dried desiderfruit, listening to the whistling of the trees around her and feeling the cool morning air on her face.
Not yet fully awake, she daydreamed as Mazovia’s sun rose over the valley, illuminating it with a violet-orange hue. Mazovia was a beautiful world, and it had been so long since she felt real, solid ground on her feet. They had been running for weeks. The Stormfalcon had passed through six different colonies before landing on Mazovia. All of them were burnt to a crisp, their surface cracked and glowing. No communications of any kind could be detected, it felt like the entire universe had died.
She remembered being in the control cab of the ship when they arrived at Cyrus VII. The destruction was unfathomable. Yvette had witnessed her fair share of Covies before she deserted, but she’d never seen they’re destructive capability from above until then. The Stormfalcon had to wade through a wall of debris and ships as it approached the planet. A jungle of twisted wrecks and melted metal now served as a graveyard for thousands of sailors and civilians. When they finally cleared the debris, the extent of the colony’s destruction could now be seen in greater detail. 
She remembered the audible gasp Beta made when the ship’s visual sensors focused on the now desolate ruins of a Cyrusian city. A glyph was carved into what used to be the city, and Eve could not tell whether it was a mark of warning, or a mark of triumph. 
Beta was a stowaway, sneaking aboard the ship when they left Mamore. Yvette found her huddled in a ventilation shaft, dirty and smelling of dried mud and urine. She took her to the ship’s showers when the rest of the crew was asleep and afterward she cooked her a meal in the galley. When she felt safe and comfortable, she told her story. 
Her name was Elżbieta Pryce, a native of Mamore who wanted to escape the anarchy that had engulfed the world for as long as anyone could remember. She was only fourteen years old, but the stories she told sounded like she’d lived an entire lifetime. When she was done eating, Yvette took her to her bed and let her sleep. The next day, she introduced Beta to the rest of the crew and explained her situation. 
Most of the crew accepted her and introduced themselves in turn. But not all were so receptive. Yvette noticed the looks some of them made at her. Depraved looks on their faces, most of them hid it quickly when she noticed, all except Axel. After that, Yvette made sure to keep her safe and watch over her, and for a time things were good. But at Cyrus VII, Beta’s smile that she had gotten used to seeing was no more. It left her shaken, and when she tried to console her, she ran away to the crew quarters. But for Yvette, the shock had already worn off after seeing so many other worlds burned away. Desensitized is such a terrible word. She couldn’t understand how anyone could become desensitized by such mindless slaughter.
Yvette shook her head wildly to rid her of those thoughts. That’s when she finally heard Rhys calling her name. 
“Eve, what the hell are you doing? I told you to move the shipments fifteen minutes ago.”
“Sorry. On it now.” She said, hopping off the crate. She dusted off her pants as Rhys walked up to her. 
“Make sure they’re kept in cold storage. I don’t want them to get spoiled before we reach Terra Nova.” Rhys lifted the top of a crate to check the inside. She could see the desiderfruit in its clear plastic packaging. Her mouth watered a tiny bit. She hadn’t eaten at all this morning. 
“This is a lot of fruit for a ship like ours.” She leaned backwards and gestured at the long row of desiderfruit crates behind her. “It’s taking up a lot of cargo space already. Who’s buying?”
Rhys closed the crate he was inspecting and his eyes shot a perturbed glance at her. She could see he was bothered by the question, and tried to mask it by rubbing the freshly shaven stubble on his face. “You know those worlds we passed by on the way here?” he said, licking the inside of his cheek. “Mazovia is the only colony that grows these, and this colony doesn’t have much time left. You’d be surprised to see the prices these things fetch on the market these days now that the Apocalypse is here.”
Eve’s voice lowered when she saw Beta playing in the field next to the Stormfalcon. “You really think they’re coming here?”
“Every world we passed through after picking you up was dead and smoking. Everyone’s on edge here. The cities are emptying by the day. They had some kind of mass panic a few years back—drove off half the population out towards Earth or something like that. This world is finished.”
Yvette’s eyes dropped, her left foot tapped the ground rapidly, a habit she developed as a child when she was anxious. “So nowhere’s safe.” She said half-heartedly, unaware that Rhys had heard her. 
“Earth is safe. That’s our destination, selling these crates will get us there.”
“I can’t go to Earth. I’m. . . a deserter. If I set foot on Earth they’ll throw me in prison for the rest of my life.” She said nervously, her fingers were trembling. 
Rhys laughed. “I’m sure the Oonksies have more pressing concerns right now than to be looking for someone who’s likely already been marked as dead or missing. Vodin is a pile of rubble by now. If you don’t wanna come to Earth with us, we’ll leave you on Terra Nova.”
Eve thought about it for a second, and nodded her head. “That might be a good idea. I’ll take Beta with me when we arrive on Nova. Earthlife won’t suit her.” 
Rhy looked over his shoulder at the girl playing in the dirt. “Something’s not quite right about her. She’s almost. . . feral.”
That word provoked her and irritation flared in her eyes. “Feral? She’s just scared, Rhys.” 
“Maybe. But you’ve never heard of what it’s like to be a child of Mamore, have you?” He leaned against the crates with his elbow. 
“I can’t say I have.”
Rhys grunted and stood away from the crates. “Perhaps another time then. Get these crates on the ship before the cryo-freeze starts to wear off. C’mon, I’ll help.”
Yvette and Rhys spent the next half hour loading the crates of desiderfruit up the cargo ramp of the Stormfalcon. The crates weren’t too difficult to move thanks to Jori’s stolen exo-skeletons. They were halfway done with the cargo when her battery of her exo-suit failed without warning. The suit stopped abruptly when she was on the ramp, and her momentum nearly shattered one of her legs. Eve fell backward from the ramp and landed on the dirt. She gritted her teeth as the suit was still exerting a painful strain on her leg, but Rhys jumped off the ramp after her and helped take off the suit. 
Relief rushed over her as the latches loosened and she was released from the suit’s binds. 
“Thank you.” she said, still breathing heavily. She sat up and rubbed her calf to ease the throbbing. 
Rhys smiled and let out his hand to help her up. Rhys was a strong contrast to his brother Axel. He was always so kind and helpful to her, though she chalked it up to him being the leader of the group. That was, until she caught him staring that one time. His face had a sweet and innocent look, but he never took any steps further. He might’ve been nervous, but that didn’t stop her from teasing him about it whenever she could. 
Eve was about to take his hand when the sound of an overworked engine revved off in the distance along the dirt road. 
She stood up and saw the Axel and Jori in the Spade driving up the dirt road in some haste. The truck was covered in dirt and dotted with blemishes of soot. 
Yvette rested at the side of the ramp as Rhys walked over to meet them. The Spade was moving fast, kicking up a wave of dirt and dust behind it as it raced toward them. The Spade screeched as Axel slammed his foot on the brake when they arrived inside the camp. They nearly hit Rhys until Axel turned away at the last second. 
The Spade was empty and damaged with burn marks all over it. Axel lept from the driver’s seat and was in hysterics. Rhys tried to calm him down but his mouth closed when he looked over at Jori. 
He was slouched over in the passenger seat, plasma burns covered his arms and chest. His vest was torn and burnt, with blood soaked through it. 
Beta walked over to Eve to see what was happening. She tugged at her armed. 
“What’s going on?” she asked. Her voice was elevated with fear.
Eve shook her head and knelt down to face her. “It’s nothing. Wait for me on the ship.” She put a hand on Beta’s shoulder when she tried to protest. “Go.” she said sternly. 
Beta rushed up the cargo ramp without another word. By then, Graham and Jessika were pulling an unconscious Jori out of his seat. Yvette walked over to the Spade. 
“We need to leave. Now!” Axel was yelling at his older brother, his eyes were bloodshot and full of fear. He was pacing back and forth with his hands on his head. 
Rhys grabbed onto him by the shoulders to stop him. 
“We’re not leaving until you calm the hell down and tell us what happened!” Rhys was shouting now, and drawing the attention of the rest of the crew. 
Axel looked to be calming down, but he kept glancing down the dirt road. As if he was expecting something to come after him. “We have to leave.” He was pleading now. 
“What happened?” Rhys said slowly. 
The forest around them had grown eerily silent. Off in the distance, a large flock of birds flew off to the north in a hurry. 
“The city’s gone. They blew out the highway we was on and started massacring everyone. The city was on fire. Jori. . .” Axel ran his hand through his blond hair. “Everything’s gone.”
She saw Rhys pretend to not understand what Axel was saying. “Who’s ‘they’? Axel. . . who’s they?” 
Axel’s response was interrupted when a pair of military jets flew overhead to the south. Their engines screamed through the skies, heading towards something over the horizon. 
And then it arrived. 
Breaking through the clouds, a single massive ship appeared in the sky. It had a sleak, grayish, almost organic look to it. Eve recognized the teardrop shape. Violet dots of light lined the hull of the ship. They continued to build up along the ship, until finally converging and shooting out dozens of violet rods of plasma at the fighter jets. One of them exploded, leaving only smoke and balls of fire in their place while the other tried to evade the fire coming at it. It spun and dashed through the air in every direction as it tried to escape but a lucky shot struck it on its wing, and sent it twirling out of the sky into the valley. She never heard the explosion, but she saw the pillar of black smoke rise high into the clouds.
With them out of the way, tiny dark specks began to shoot out from both sides of the ship. Like a swarm of bees, they circled around each other before setting off altogether toward somewhere. It was only when the specks grew larger that Eve noticed the swarm was coming to them. 
“We have to go!” she screamed. The crew had been frozen in place when they saw the Covenant ship, but her words had jolted them back into reality. 
Together they raced up the ramp, leaving behind the Spade, the remaining desiderfruit crates and other cargo. Eve followed Rhys into the cabin of the ship, watching him ignite the ship’s engines and preparing for takeoff. 
She looked out the window of the cabin and could now make out what the swarm was. They were Banshees, ground attack aircraft used by the Covenant. They would overrun them in minutes if they didn’t leave soon. 
The engines of the Stormfalcon roared to life and she felt it lifting from the ground. It had no weapons, no defense of any kind. But it did have speed. 
The Stormfalcon was an old ship, officially they were marketed as the Brzina-class, a cheap line of affordable freighters, allowing the average civilian to explore the stars on their own. Unofficially, it was a blockade runner designed, built and owned by those sympathetic to insurrectionist causes. They were responsible for bringing supplies, goods, and weapons that kept insurgencies afloat all across the Outer Colonies. Earth eventually figured out what was going on and had the company shut down, it’s assets confiscated, and most of the ships were impounded by the Navy. Today, they’re nothing more than antiques, but they can still fetch a hefty price with a willing buyer. 
Eve felt the Stormfalcon lift slowly from the ground. She leaned as the ship angled upward in preparation to escape the planet. It rose high above the treeline and then it began to shake violently as the engines kicked into full gear. 
Rhys turned back to her and waved her away. “Get to the center of the ship, it’ll be safest there.” He faced the control console and input commands for the flight plan to escape Mazovia’s atmosphere and continued, “Wait by the jettison-paks if anything goes wrong. Grab Beta too. If I give the warning, you and her jettison yourself from this ship to someplace safe, then get as far away from civilization as possible!” 
Eve rocked back in forth, trying to keep her balance as the ship rose higher and higher into the sky. When she opened her mouth to speak, Rhys interrupted her. 
He was yelling now, but his eyes were sad. “Just do what I said, Eve! Please.”
Perplexed, Yvette stood for a second in protest, but then swallowed her pride and ran out of the cabin. 
The rest of the crew were either running around the ship, cowering in their rooms, or arguing with each other. She ran through the ship’s sections, first the maintenance room, then the kitchen and finally to the crew quarters. 
Eve reached her room and tried to open it. The door’s lock flashed red, and indicated that it was occupied. 
“Beta!” Eve knocked on the door. “Beta? Are you in there? Open the door, honey. It’s me.”
Eve stood waiting for some time, and when she began to think that nobody would open the door, she heard the door’s lock unlatch. 
The door slid open and Beta stepped forth. She stood in the doorway and looked up at Eve. Tears streamed down her face and her eyes were engulfed in fear. She had seen that kind of fear before on Vodin. Her own. 
Yvette kneeled down toward her. “Hey you.” She tried saying without any hint of anxiety. 
“Hi.” Beta trembled. 
“Why did you lock the door, honey? Give me the key.” Eve said softly when she saw it in her hand. “Come on, it’s okay.” She laid out a hand. 
Betas lifted her arm and dropped the key into Eve’s palm. The moment she took the key, Beta jumped into Eve’s arms, crying.
“Everyone was running around so scared, then Axel started chasing me and I ran to the room, and then he started banging on the door when I wouldn’t let him in, and then—” 
“Hey, hey, hey. . . It’s okay Lizzy. Hey now.” Eve squeezed her hard in an embrace. The child cried into her chest soaking her shirt. Eve rubbed Beta’s back until she began to calm down. 
When she stopped crying Eve released her embrace and wiped away any remaining tears from Beta’s eyes. “Hey, I need you to look at me.” Eve said while concealing her worry. Beta’s eyes were so red from crying when she looked at her. Her mouth still trembled a bit, but she was listening. 
“I need you to grab your things, okay?” Eve rubbed her shoulder to keep her calm. “We’re going on a trip together. It’ll be real quick.” 
“Okay. . .” Beta sniffled. 
Eve stood in the doorway as Beta grabbed her things. The ship shook violently again, presumably from the Banshees that had caught up by now. The ship turned sharply as it tried to evade the Covenant fighters. Eve had to help Beta pack when the evasive maneuvers almost made her cry again. 
Eve only took a small amount of things from her room, some of it was food and a sidearm she stole from the ship’s armory after a previous run-in with Axel many months back. Beta carried her bag on her back, full of old drawings, toys, and Mr. Slim, a stuffed animal Eve gave her to help against the nightmares. 
Eve and Beta walked briskly down the crew quarters and passed kitchens to the cargo bay. When they stood on the scaffolding on the cargo bay, she saw the jettison-paks in their pods, ready to shoot out from the Stormfalcon to safety. Nobody else was in the cargo bay from where she could see. 
They were halfway down the staircase when the Stormfalcon rocked again as it was hit by plasma fire from the pursuing Banshees. Beta whimpered as the sounds and motions of the ship frightened her. Eve pushed her along, reminding her of their goal. 
They reached the bottom of the cargo bay and ran toward the jettison-paks in front of them. 
But just as they were about to reach the paks, Axel stood from behind stacked crates of desiderfruit and appeared before them. “There you are.” He said, eyeing Beta. 
“Axel.” Eve said. His head was bleeding from a wound where a chunk of hair used to be. 
“Eve.” Axel turned his eyes to her this time. His eyes had been replaced by something sadistic. Something primal. “I’d hoped to meet you here. I’m guessing my brother told you about these jettison-paks.” He twirled a knife in his hand as he revealed his arms from behind his back. Both of his hands were bloody, and it wasn’t his. 
“Axel. . . please, there’s no time. We have to get off the ship if we’re going to survive.” Eve tried to bargain with him with items from her bag. But to no avail. 
“Leave?” Axel laughed. “It’s the end of the world, sister. I’m just starting to have fun.” He licked the blade with a sadistic smile. 
Eve reached for her pistol in the bag and pulled it out. She aimed it at Axel’s center mass. 
“Whoa, now.” Axel backed away when he saw the handgun. “Where’d you get that from, sweetie?” He pointed the tip of the blade at her. 
“Back off.” Eve said, flicking the safety off. In the corner of her eye, Beta was crying silently. 
Axel’s smile disappeared and he raised his arms to yield to her. “Now that’s not very lady-life.” He remarked. “You’re scaring the girl.”
Eve looked down at Beta for no longer than a second before she caught Axel charging toward her with the knife. 
She fired the gun once into his abdomen but he kept coming. “Stay back!” she yelled, and fired again. 
The gun jammed. 
Before Axel could reach her, a massive hole was torn into the side of the ship. Green plasma and black smoke appeared for a brief moment before the ship depressurized. 
Axel lost his footing and was thrown backward, sucked out of the ship and into the heavens. 
Yvette grabbed onto a beam and instinctively reached for Beta. She missed. Beta was almost sucked out of the ship too, but Eve caught her arm at the last second. Eve held tightly onto her arm, but she couldn’t pull her in. 
“Beta! Don’t let go!” Eve screamed for help but nobody came. 
She felt like her shoulder was about to be dislocated with Beta exerting too much of a strain on her arm. 
To her left, the straps that held the crates of desiderfruit snapped. The depressurization flung the crates toward the gaping hole that gutted the Stormfalcon, flinging the tops of the crates open and spilling its contents for all to see.
But the contents weren’t desiderfruit.
Bags upon bags of Feride flew out from the crates. A mini-tornado formed with a mix of the drug and the fruit that were concealing the illegal and deadly substance. She couldn’t believe it. Rhys. Jori. Axel. They were all liars. How could she have been so stupid? 
Her focus returned to Beta, who was still clinging for her life. Sweat began to build up on their hands, and their grip became slippery. 
“Beta!” Eve yelled out again. 
All of the color from Beta’s face had been flushed away leaving on her pearly white fear, her eyes never left her own. “Eve! I’m slipping!” Beta was crying out for help but there was nothing Eve could do. 
Eve spotted another beam that Beta could grab onto and planned to throw her over to it. She waited for another crate of the drugs to fly past them before telling Beta the plan. 
“Beta! Beta, look at me, yes, that’s it. I’m going to throw you over to that beam, okay?” Beta nodded. “When I throw you, you need to grab it with all your strength, okay? 
“Okay. . .” Beta said weakly. 
When Eve motioned to toss her, the Stormfalcon took another hit from a fuel rod cannon, and Eve lost her grip. 
Beta screamed when she slipped. They were barely holding on by interlocking their hands together. But the sweat had built up too much, and Eve’s fingers loosened. Beta felt the end was near. 
“Mom. . . please!” Beta said one last time until her body was forcefully flung away and out through the hole of the Stormfalcon. 
A horrible, maddening scream overtook Eve as she lost Beta forever. She was gone in an instant. Eve’s arm was still outstretched, grabbing for a person that was no longer there. 
Her body was frozen in place, the depressurization seemed to have no effect on her. She stared at the hole, hopeless. 
“Mom.” Eve said to her defeated self, trying to make sense of what she had heard. 
To her right, another set of straps were broken, sending out a fury of more crates. When she looked at the chaos, a crate was flying directly toward her. Everything went black when a crate smacked her hard across the head.
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===Chapter One===
Éimhear
A Second Chance
:Kampus Scientifica
:City of Toruń, Mazovia
:April 9, 2538
Emilia sat alone in the Café de la Paix, taking a sip of her Meridian spiced tea while she waited. Rain trickled down the window next to her as she sat in the booth. Night had fallen by now, and she’d been waiting for so long that she started to bounce her leg with worry that he wasn’t coming. 
Her waiter came around to see her again, holding a tray of chilled berries and cream. “Plus de crème, madame?” The waiter asked with a strong, northern Picardie accent. He laid the tray on the table and held the bowl of cream in his hands. His attitude and voice were very friendly, and it helped lessen her dismay.
“Oui, s’il vous plaît.” she replied. Emilia was still looking out of the window with her palm on her face hoping to see him. She bit at her fingers nervously in anticipation. 
The waiter took three spoonfuls of the cream and topped them on her tea. He also left her with the bowl of berries. A mix of Earth and off-world berries turned the bowl into a beautiful mosaic of natural and exotic colors. 
“Merci.” Emilia thanked him.
Emilia waited another hour for him. She barely touched the berries and the cream had melted and was pouring over the sides of her cup. Emilia grabbed a set of napkins and hastily cleaned up the mess she had made. Saddened, Emilia sighed and twirled the spoon around in her cup of tea. 
The rain became more intense and she considered returning home. She was ready to grab her bag and leave the cafe until she heard the door open. 
It was Melvin. His jacket was soaked from the rain. Droplets of water dripped from his jacket as he looked around for Emilia. 
When he saw Emilia, his face lit up and a huge smile stretched from ear to ear. He began walking toward her until one of the waiters stopped him and politely asked him to remove his jacket. 
Melvin nodded and complied with the request and hung it on a rack by the door.
“Melvin!” Emilia lept from her seat and they met halfway. They embraced each other and topped it off with a kiss. She led him back to her booth and they sat across from each other. 
“I’m sorry, Millie. I should’ve called.” he apologized. 
“I worried that you weren’t coming. I was afraid something had happened.” Emilia fretted. 
Melvin let out a sorrowful half-smile and took her hand in his. Emilia could see he was still dressed in his work clothes. 
“There was, or at least I think there is a breakthrough in my research.” He sounded so passionate. “I lost track of time, and when I finally looked at the time I raced here as fast as I could.” 
Melvin never lied to her, he never did anything wrong. He was perfect in every way. “I believe you.” she smiled.
“So, what is this breakthrough, exactly?” she continued. 
Melvin’s eyes looked so happy from her question. He always loved talking about his work with her. He looked around his surroundings and said, “I think I found a way to extend the lifespans of artificial life. They’ve been limited to seven years for so long. It’s cruel to let AIs live that short, right? It’s no different than pulling the plug on a child. But now, I think I have something. Something real. I just need time. And money. The Institute is willing to foot the bill for me. I just need to show them my findings next month.”
Emilia was a gardener. Coming from a family of farmers hailing from Gers in southern France. She never truly understood his line of work. But it wasn’t his profession that she fell in love with. 
“That’s. . . great, honey.” Emilia sputtered. 
Despite her confusion, she truly was happy for him. But this past year had been very difficult for them. He lost his job at university, and she noticed he was becoming ever so slightly more obsessed with his theories. She was proud of him but also worried for his health. 
Melvin started to fidget in his seat, playing with something hidden in his pocket. 
“But I didn’t ask you here to bore you about my job.” he beamed. “You remember this place, right?” 
“Of course,” she looked around. “It’s our anniversary spot.” 
“Indeed it is,” he said cheerfully. “But I want those memories to have something a little more.” 
Melvin jumped up from his seat and went down on one knee. 
“Melvin. . .” Emilia gasped. 
“I—I know you said you wanted to wait. But I just couldn’t wait any longer. With everything that happened this past year has been rough, it only strengthened my certainty that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Melvin expressed. 
“OH, ISN’T HE SWEET?” said a disembodied voice behind her.
“Emilia Charline Sault. . . will you DIE FOR ME?” The Voice had possessed Melvin. 
“What?” she shuddered. 
“WILL YOU, EMILIA?” the Voice said again. It was hostile and acidic. A sweeping coldness rushed over her and goosebumps raised on her arms. 
“Who are you? What have you done to Melvin?” she demanded. 
Melvin’s eyes were like a burning violet color. His stare felt like it was piercing straight into her soul.
The thing that used to be Melvin gave a devilish grin and then dissolved into nothing. Emilia shrieked in horror, hoping that it was just a bad dream. But it kept going. 
All around her the cafe began to dissolve. Everyone inside it had stopped moving, their faces all looking at her with the same terrifying violet eyes. Some of the customers had their necks twisted and tangled in gruesome ways just so they could all stare at her.
The walls, tables, and chairs began to soften and droop slowly down like a syrupy liquid. The patrons, still motionless, also did the same. Melting together into horrifying, unrecognizable black puddles. 
The entire world melted, leaving nothing but an endless black void. Emilia called out for help only to be greeted with silence in response. Thinking that it was just a fever dream, she walked aimlessly through the void, exploring it and hoping that the end was somewhere near. 
She walked for days in the darkness. She had begun to lose hope until she heard the sounds of an erratic conversation creeping up behind her. 
“We’re losing her!” one of the voices said. 
“The procedure isn’t working. Her brain is rejecting the transfer!” another said. 
“Keep working!” a third said. “This is my last chance. I can’t lose her.” The voice sounded vaguely like Melvin. 
Emilia called out to him, pleading for him to come and save her. But he never heard her.
“The facility is under lockdown, Melvin. If we stay here much longer the Covenant will breach this place and we’ll all be turned into paste!” the second voice warned. 
“I’m not leaving,” Melvin said, anger growing in his voice. 
“The Cole Protocol has been enacted, if we don’t shut down the project now it won’t be the Covenant who we’ll need to worry about!” the man said again. 
Emilia heard the sounds of a struggle and yelling. “I’m not leaving!” Melvin snapped. Gunshots rang out in front of her. Two brief, blinding lights flashed. 
“Shit!” the first voice squealed, followed by footsteps that sounded like running. 
Another two gunshots rang out, followed by the blinding flashes. The hiss of a door closing and locking echoed around her. 
“I won’t lose you, Millie.” said a lamenting Melvin. “I made a promise.” 
“Melvin!” Emilia screamed as loud as she could. It was futile. 
“HE BROKE HIS PROMISE.” the Voice hissed behind her. 
Emilia turned to face the Voice, but there was nothing there. 
“HE LET YOU DIE,” The Voice was pressed against her ear. 
“That’s not true,” Emilia argued.
“LEFT YOU AS NOTHING BUT A SHELL,” it said in the other ear. 
“Please, stop,” Emilia begged.
Emilia covered her face with her hands, and she began to weep. She fell to the ground, weak and unable to comprehend why any of this was happening. But between her fingers, she saw a figure made of smoke begin to take form. 
The smoke that formed in front of her was a mix of black and gray and took the shape of an egg. It repeatedly ballooned and contracted on itself from a center point. The ovate smoke opened, and out of it emerged a woman. 
Her hair was short and as black as night. She wore heavy black eyeshadow that highlighted her deep violet eyes. Her lips were as black as the eye shadow and glittered like stars. She was dressed all in black, wearing something akin to a funeral gown. It fully covered her arms and extended all the way down to her knees. 
She looked like she was in mourning.
“And yet you still love him.” the Woman said. Strangely, her voice was a mix of resentment and sadness.
Emilia dropped her hands from her face and looked up at the woman. The aura of smoke followed her as she walked toward her.
“Who are you?” Emilia mumbled. Her face had become a mess of tears and eyeliner.
The Woman said nothing, instead, she kneeled down in front of her and wiped away her tears. She grabbed Emilia’s chin and gently raised her so their eyes were meeting each other. When Emilia looked into those despairing violet eyes, she saw nothing that could have been human. The Woman caressed and pushed Emilia’s hair away from her face and showed a threatening, dominating smile.
“I’m you.”
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===Chapter Two===
Noah Sówka
Homeward Bound
:Observation Deck, UNSC Atacama
:Nearing Mazovian Orbit
:April 10, 2538
“Third time’s a charm.” Noah Sówka said with the cadence of an old nursery rhyme from his childhood.
He flicked his thumb at the lighter impatiently. When it wouldn’t light, he shook it back and forth, hoping that whatever fluid was left in it would give him enough flame for one last cigarette. Noah stood alone in the observation dome of the UNSC Atacama. He’d been awake for seventeen hours now, watching in sleepless silence as the Sahara-class prowler emerged outward from a portal in slipspace and entered the Eta Leporis system. The walls of the ship started humming as its systems came online and the crew awakened. The lights of the observation dome brightened as life returned to the Atacama.
Noah sighed. This wasn’t the reunion he had expected. His home. His life. All began here, in this tiny corner of the galaxy. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d react once he saw what was left of Mazovia, if there was anything left at all. 
“Right then, fourth time’s a charm,” Noah said, gliding his thumb against the sparkwheel of the lighter. flick. flick. A single, quick spark flared and died out. That annoyed him greatly. flick. Noah sighed again angrily. “Fine.” He gave up and huffed out his frustration.
It was only a matter of time anyway, he guessed. It was an old lighter. Given to him when his father passed twenty-five years ago. Noah closed the lighter and looked at the inscription engraved into it. 
Written in Nov Polćsi: “If caught by flames, dance with them; so that your light never fades.” The family motto. Father always had a taste for the dramatic and theatrical. And Noah loved him for that. 
Staring out into the endless void of space, he wondered how Bartosz and Monika were doing. He hadn’t spoken to them for so long. What would he tell them once he saw their home? How would they react to their old home being reduced to a smoldering ruin? So many memories. . . gone.
Bartosz, the oldest of the trio, was grizzled and sour when he last saw him. A man of sixty-seven now, tormented by his—our generation’s war. Monika would’ve had her sixtieth birthday nine days ago. She’d be an old woman by now, untouched by the stain of excessively long travel times and cryonics. He smiled thoughtfully at the memories he still had of them. 
“Happy birthday, Monnie,” he said in a low voice, still staring out into the endless expanse of stars and the creeping darkness that surrounds them.
A somber feeling came over him as he saw his reflection from the observation window. While his siblings were left at the mercy of Father Time, he still looked as young as his days in special forces, albeit with a few more not-so-handsome wrinkles. He would never get to grow old with his siblings. 
Punishment for being ONI’s errand boy, he supposed. 
Noah pocketed the lighter in his coat. He was still alone in the observation deck some more after that, and soon he noticed the distant voices echoing off the metal walls of the ship as the Atacama’s crew awakened and hurried to their posts. 
He never liked being on the Atacama. He never liked the missions he was sent on behalf of cleaning ONI’s decades-old messes. And now it was his own home that he was being sent to. Maybe it was destined. All those sins he had committed in his early life were leading him back home. Back to where it all began so that Fate can collect their debt and bring an end to this immoral life of his.
A bad end awaited a bad man. If it’s to be, then so be it. 
Impulsively, he pulled the lighter back out of his pocket and opened it. 
“Fifth time’s a charm.” He teased himself. 
Just as he was gliding his thumb against the sparkwheel for another futile attempt, the door to the observation deck hissed open, and the sound of footsteps tip-tapped into the room as a woman walked inside.
Noah stopped fiddling with the lighter and turned his head partway. Then he saw her face reflecting off the window. 
“Hello, Noah.” Ashley Coeman’s voice was still as lovely as he remembered. 
He turned around and faced her. Her auburn hair was always kept at a shoulder’s length, just how she liked it. And her eyes, like sapphires, gleamed in the presence of the room’s lights. She was wearing a black field uniform with the emblem of the Special Investigations Division embroidered on her arm. The uniform accentuated her slender figure. 
“Ashley,” he sputtered. “You look. . .” It had been so long since he’d seen her. 
“It’s good to see you.” Her smile was sweet as always. 
“. . .beautiful.” he finished saying. 
“Here. Let me help you with that.” Ashley walked forward, holding a peacoat lighter in her hand and lit it. He spotted the pearl-colored United Nations eagle embedded into the side of the lighter. She held it under the cigarette that was still hanging in Noah’s mouth until it started crackling.
He took a puff of the cigarette and then held it between his fingers. He blew the smoke out off to his side as to not blow it toward her. 
“You smoke now?” he asked, taking a few more puffs. 
“Me? Oh, no. No. Not at all.” she shook her head with a soft chuckle. 
Noah took another puff. “Then how’d you know I was?” he raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, I think I know you more than most, Mr. Sówka. Way more,” she teased him, playfully crossing her arms. 
Noah smiled at her fondly. He couldn’t take her eyes off her. To him, she was an angel of the purest kind, but her being here made him nervous. The universe didn’t make any sense anymore, most of all because of the way things had been going since the Covenant appeared. The thought turned his smile to a frown, but Ashley continued. 
“It’s the Captain’s,” she admitted, “I asked him for it when Stratus told me where you were. I took a guess, and I guessed right.” she finished with a confident smirk. 
“So you were spying on me,” he ascertained. 
She placed a hand on her chest, “Spying? Me? You offend me so, Mr. Sówka.” Ashley feigned. 
“That’s something a spook would say.” Noah jested. The cigarette has lost its appeal by now. Growing impatient with the distraction, he disposed of the cigarette by putting it out in an ashtray next to him.
“Spooks are buried in white sepulchers.” she retorted with a suddenly serious look. 
Noah threw his head back with a howled laugh. “Can’t deny that,” he said.
They both shared a good laugh and embraced each other. 
“It’s good to see you.” Noah began. 
“It’s good to see you too,” she said softly. 
Noah watched her smile disappear. She must have seen the sadness in his eyes. She could always see through him, it was impossible to hide from her. 
“What’s wrong?” she asked, bringing an end to the embrace. 
He wanted to choose his words carefully. 
“What are you doing here?” he asked. 
“The same as you. Why?” 
“Nobody told me you were aboard,” he said with a slight weariness. 
“Should they?” she frowned.
“Two years, Ash. It’s been two years.” 
He wasn’t anticipating how she’d respond to that. His face expressed a sort of sadness and regret, and her eyes spoke of her own regret as well. But it said something different, something more painful.
“Yes, it has. Two years now. But there was an incident, it was important. That’s why we’re standing here today.” 
“More important than us?” he snapped. “You left. I thought this mess was dealt with and over.” He wasn’t sure why he was acting like this. Maybe it was his sleeplessness. Or maybe it was the real him, in all its terrible and hurtful glory. 
“As long as ONI still stands, it will never be over. They own us, Noah. They always have. They always will. We can never escape it.”
She was right. The survivors of HEMLOCK were used to tie up loose ends for Project ORION. Once those loose ends were tied up, they called him and her to deal with the survivors. He always wondered what would happen once all the ends were tied and all that remained was him and Ashley. He hoped that it was quick. 
“We don’t have to keep doing this.” he raised his arms and gestured to the room. “Once this is over, come with me. We can build a little cabin on a hill somewhere like we always wanted to. A simple, peaceful life far away from all this war and chaos and death. Earth. ONI. Leave it all to die. Run away with me and never look back.” 
Something in his words provoked anger from her, her face flared as red as her hair.
“We all have to answer to somebody, Noah. You can’t run from this. Our future depends on it.” Ashley scowled. 
Noah lowered his eyes, sighed, and nodded reluctantly. As badly as he wanted to deny it, there was no such thing as running away from Naval Intelligence.
Ashley’s scowl faded away. “You have bags under your eyes,” she said, trying to change the subject. She walked up to him less than arm’s length away. Slowly, she caressed his face and golden beard. “How long have you been awake?” 
He looked up at her face. He so badly wished to kiss her, to run away with her, to live with her in their little paradise until they grew old. 
Noah looked down at his miniature wrist-mounted TACPAD, “Eighteen hours now, I think.” he confessed. His eyes felt heavy when he said that.
“Eighteen—Jesus, did the tube malfunction? Are you okay?” There was a loving concern in her voice.
“No, no, everything’s fine. It was a request I made personally for Stratus to wake me up early after we left Anchor 9.” he rubbed his beard, thinking. “It was. . . something I had to do. For myself.” 
“Why?” she tilted her head. Her face had that worried look on it. 
Noah gently broke from her embrace and turned around to face the void. He had hoped that something out there held the answers he was looking for. It was the reason why he came here in the first place. But when he stared out into that starry night, the only thing that stared back was his own dread. Its face took the shape of an old, dying man. With hair that was white and long like his own, with eyes as dark and infinitely deep as black holes. His face had no expression but for a single, melancholic frown. It was himself. A demon of his own making, reminding him of what he really was underneath his skin. 
It scared him more than anything. More than the Covenant. More than what had become of his home. More than the thought of losing her. It marked the prelude to his end. 
“Noah,” Ashley’s voice broke him from his trance. He turned to face her again, still without an answer. “What was it that you needed to do?” She stood confused.
Noah turned to his right and sat on a couch that faced parallel to the other side of the observation dome. Ashley followed him and sat next to him, planting a single hand gently on his leg. She was leaning forward, waiting for him to say something. 
“I guess. . .” he began, still searching for the words. “. . .This is my home. Everything I am today is because of it. Something has led me back to this place. And I suppose. . . back to you.” 
“And you feel afraid?” 
“Afraid of what I’ve become since then. Afraid of what I’ll see. Afraid of how this will end. What does it all mean? Why are we here?” He looked into her eyes, wondering what she was thinking. 
“We have to take the chance that somewhere down there a difference can be made. Something that is the or one of many keys that could help us better understand how to win this war. We need something to give us hope, something to restore our faith in a brighter future.” 
Ashley placed her hands on his. A glint in her eyes told him that she really believed her own words. He wished he felt the same. 
“Faith. What is faith in days like these?” Noah shook his head with a scowl. “I don’t mean some kind of bi-annual Sunday service or pray by your bedside faith. I mean real, tangible Faith to give us the strength to prevail. Faith hasn’t helped us in many, many centuries, Ash. We’ve lost our way, and that is what I’m truly afraid of. If I’ve lost my faith, I fear I’ll lose you next.” 
She raised a weak, sad smile and hugged him. But her mind had gone somewhere else, and she looked deep into his eyes. 
Ashley hesitated for a moment as if there was a lump in her throat. “There is more to the universe than you know out there that’s more important than faith or me. And that’s worth fighting for. There’s a whole galaxy waiting out there waiting for us to help them, your family among them. And when the time comes, I promise you will be reunited with them.” 
Ashley had always been difficult to read, and he felt that there was something more to what she was saying. She looked to be on the verge of tears, but she was always strong. Her lips seemed to quiver, full of words that wanted to escape and tell him something but she fought them back. She was afraid too. 
“Well, Monnie always did want to meet you.” Noah jested, hoping to lighten the mood. 
It certainly helped, and a soft chuckle was what escaped her mouth. But Noah could see that there was still sadness in her eyes. He didn’t want to pursue it. 
“I would very much like that.” Ashley smiled. Then, suddenly with no provocation, she laid a quick peck of her lips on his cheek. 
Noah looked at her half startled. “What was that for?” He rubbed the part of his cheek that she kissed. 
“Nothing. It’s just. . .” As if compelled by some invisible force, Ashley and Noah slowly moved toward each other for a kiss. But their moment was cut short when a sound interrupted them and drew their attention.
The ship’s artificial intelligence materialized from a pillar next to the couch. Stratus, as his name suggests, took the avatar of a cloud. Depending on his mood or task, Stratus would take the shape of a wide range of cloud formations from cumulus when happy, to cumulonimbus when irritated or frustrated. 
“Ah, there you two are. I was, oh—my apologies.” Stratus addressed.
“Stratus, it’s fine. What is it?” Ashley sat normally, as did Noah. 
Noah watched as Stratus rotated and curled around itself, taking the shape of a cirrus cloud. He was embarrassed. 
“Agent Coeman and Mr. Sówka, I apologize again for the interruption but Captain Bashir would like to see you both on the bridge as soon as possible. We’re approaching Mazovia, and well—” 
Stratus changed shape again to a cirrostratus. Most shipborne AIs created at Double I were confident and calculating. But Stratus, he was quite nervous and shy than most of his artificial peers. In spite of that, Stratus was a very competent AI and the crew, best to Noah’s knowledge, enjoyed him and his light-hearted attitude. 
Noah could feel the AI looking at him. “Stratus? Speak.” Noah insisted. 
“It’s not good.” The AI replied. “Please, report to the bridge.” 
The AI winked out of existence, leaving Ashley and Noah alone again. They looked at each other one more time. 
“We better go.” Ashley acknowledged. Noah nodded in agreement. The pair stood and he followed her out of the observation deck.
Back to top
===Chapter Three===
Otto Hall
Devil's Den
:Group of Nine Facility
:Mazovia
:April 10, 2538
Otto Hall stood next to the counter, stirring a freshly brewed cup of his favorite tea. He wasn’t sure when something like this would come again, so he would savor this moment. He was still wearing his lab coat and his muscles ached immensely from overwork. He hadn’t slept in more than twenty-four hours and now his patience was starting to run thin. 
Otto had been looking forward to getting some sleep until they arrived. Everything had happened so quickly. The entire facility was placed under lockdown and the Covenant wasted no time in burning down every city they could find. Those who were unlucky enough to be caught outside the facility were likely dead by now. Thankfully they were under several meters of earth, reinforced titanium, and a thick layer of concrete that shielded them from electromagnetic pulses emanating from the surface. 
It was a fortress, in some sense. Constructed by the Office of Naval Intelligence in the later years of Operation: TREBUCHET, it filtered the air, recycled water, and had enough food and medical supplies to last at least one year. Facilities like these were built all over the Outer Colonies when Naval Intelligence had reason to believe that humanity was walking on a path to an all-out civil war. They were right, to an extent. But instead of that, we got something much worse. 
Behind him, a massive three-meter wide viewscreen broadcasted two teardrop-shaped Covenant battlecruisers bombarding the remnants of Toruń. The room they stood in reminded Otto of old Terran Gothic architecture seen throughout Europe on Earth. The walls around him were a fine, dark wooden material. The design gave the impression of a depressive, gloomy atmosphere. Appropriate, considering the circumstances they were in.
Otto finished stirring his tea when Fedor Volkov decided to open his mouth. 
“It’s beautiful. Don’t you think?” he asked. His Russo-Verentian accent was like nails on a chalkboard. Otto despised the man with every fiber of his being, and now he was locked down here with him. Breathing the same stale, recycled air. 
Otto turned around with his cup in hand. He glimpsed at the viewscreen as a battlecruiser melted away one of the decorative Gothic towers of the Uniwersytet Toruńia. The tower snapped in two and collapsed down to the university courtyard, crushing the students and staff that were trapped there. 
“Yes.” He paused just in time to see Fedor’s eyes twitch. “In a perversely, psychopathic sort of way, sure.” Otto spat. 
Otto hoped for a reaction, but it never came. Instead, Fedor pretended not to hear, but at the corner of his eye Otto could see that ancient face of his redden and wrinkle into a badly concealed scowl. 
Men like him weren’t meant to reach the ripe, youthful age of one-hundred and forty-two, yet there he stood, barely. Despite countless flash cloned organs, cybernetic attachments, and cryo-therapy, Fedor Volkov was finally reaching the inevitable upper-limits of human biology. He looked even worse than he did last week. With any luck, he’ll be dead by the end of the month. 
It was fascinating watching the old fossil struggling to stand even with most of his legs replaced by artificial limbs designed to mimic real skin. No amount of credits could grant him the fountain of youth he desired so badly. His time in this world was running thin. Tick. Tock.
Otto’s mind visualized if it was possible to walk up to him and give him a quick shove while he was unbalanced. Watching him fall to the ground with a painful thump and rupturing those poorly flash cloned organs that had infested the inside of his body. As a test to see just how frail he really was.
Otto’s imagination got the better of him, and a badly suppressed laugh escaped his lips. 
Fedor turned his head, revealing the ocular implant occupying what used to be his left eye. It glowed yellow. Otto felt like he was being scanned. “Is something funny?” Fedor challenged.
“Yes.” Otto raised the corner of his mouth. 
“Mind sharing?” Fedor’s voice was a pathetic attempt at trying to sound in control. 
“No.” 
Fedor’s face turned at Otto with a contemptuous look and he pivoted the rest of his body to address him directly. His stance set at a lean, a consequence from an old procedure that left him with one leg shorter than the other.
“I am the director of this facility, so you will address me as such.” Fedor hissed. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if you had just simply done your job.” a chastising finger was pointed at Otto.
Otto sipped quietly at his tea. 
“Oh? Got nothing to say with that smart mouth of yours?” he continued, “We’ll see just how smug that face is when we leave you on this burning rock of a planet once the Daedalus arrives.” Fedor’s feeble body moved sluggishly toward Otto. 
His difficulty to move just a few meters forced out another laugh from Otto. Fedor became strongly aware of his physical appearance and finally understood what was so funny. “I see.” he said with an acidic tone.
Fedor waddled over to Otto until they stood face to face. Otto was a head taller than the Director, and looked down at him with his deathly blue eyes. It was impossible for him to look imposing, but when Fedor raised his arm above his head, Otto thought that he was about to be struck in the face. 
Suddenly, Otto was thrown backwards in time to his childhood. Fedor’s face and body had morphed into that of his eldest brother, and the room around them faded away to reveal that he was back in the slums of Castiglione. Towering above him, Otto’s brother Evrim raised his arm up high and aimed it for Otto’s face. 
Instinctively, Otto raised his own arm to shield his face. He waited for the blow to come but when it didn’t, he lowered his arm and saw the widest grin draw across Fedor’s mouth. Back in the chamber, Otto briefly looked around at his surroundings. Still half disoriented, he looked back down at Fedor and saw that he had extended a cane from his coat sleeve. 
The cane was attached to his wrist and could retract or extend on command. Fedor had extended it to balance himself, but for him it triggered a flashback that threw him decades away to his impoverished former life on Escala III. Otto’s hatred for Fedor grew even more for that. 
“Well, isn’t that quite an interesting development,” Fedor smiled. “Now, that I’ve knocked you down a peg, let’s get back to business. What is it that you wanted to tell me?”
Otto breathed a second to regain his composure. He tugged at his jacket and straightened it before he spoke. “The synthesis is finally complete.” Fedor turned around and began walking to a couch sitting in front of the viewscreen to rest. Fedor bent down slowly to sit on the couch. He retracted his cane and leaned back. He raised his hand and opened his fingers to signal to Otto to follow him. 
Otto walked forward and when he faced Fedor he thought about sitting in the leather chair to the side of him. He chose to stand instead.
While sitting, Fedor became fixated by the viewscreen. By now, both battlecruisers had finished their glassing of Toruń. What remained of the city was a smoking ruin. “We’re ready for trials but. . .” Otto paused abruptly to see if Fedor was still paying attention. 
“But,” he echoed, not taking his eyes away from the screen.
“But, we don’t have enough samples to test the effectiveness and simulate it on a larger scale.”
“We already have samples, Otto. From the local populace. Was that not enough?” 
Otto hesitated, “We burned through our samples. We. . . didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.”
“Already?” Fedor finally took his eyes off the screen, he looked to be in a state of disbelief.
“It’s very potent,” Otto replied. 
Like the flip of a switch, Fedor’s face went from disbelief to horror. He tried to mask it by placing a hand over his mouth.
While Fedor sat with morbid silence, Otto decided to take the initiative. “We’re ready for primary trials. We just need samples from the Covenant.”
Fedor sputtered at the request. “Covenant? The planet is burning, Parangosky is hunting us down, and you want to proceed with Stage Two?” Fedor rubbed his temples in frustration. 
Otto knew that this information wouldn’t sit well with him. It wasn’t him that delayed the work, it was Fedor, using the glassings of his own businesses as a convenient excuse to irregularly freeze funding for the project. When the truth was revealed to them, Fedor was the only one horrified by the project. Otto knew he wanted to leave, but leaving meant death to prevent leaks. The only person to leave the Group alive was the Command-in-Chief herself, Margaret Parangosky. And because of what she knew, she was hunting us down to bury the project for good and keep her involvement a secret. 
“You know what we have to do.” Otto began. “We need those samples. We’re so close to ending this.” he softened his voice to sound more sincere and convincing. “You want this war to end, right? This is our key. Just get us the samples we need.”
Fedor shook his head unconvinced. “The planet is in ruins. The Daedalus will be here soon. There are no samples here.”
Otto pointed at the viewscreen with the Covenant battlecruisers. “The samples are onboard those ships.” Just as he said that the ships began to angle upward. The feed followed the pair as they raced high into the atmosphere, heading somewhere important. 
Fedor’s eyes widened, looking at him as if he was rambling some kind of madness. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Fedor—”
“You’re willing to compromise this facility so you can continue your pet project? We’re not an army, Doctor Hall.” Faster than he had ever seen him move before, Fedor stood from the couch. He was growing erratic by the second, obviously unnerved by everything that was happening.
“Felix is more than capable of doing what I ask,” Otto said with confidence.
“Capable?” Fedor huffed. “That Silverback is nothing but a glorified bodyguard. Convicts dressed in fancy-looking armor with third-rate augmentations. They’re no Spartans, boy.” 
Otto ignored the insult. “The Spartans are fighting a losing battle. The military doesn’t have what it takes.”
“Doesn’t have what it takes,” he mocked. “Killing billions to save billions is, I guess?” Fedor walked to a panel next to the viewscreen. Otto couldn’t see that he was pressing, and tried to get closer. 
“I didn’t know you were so sympathetic to the aliens.” Otto moved closer to see what he was doing. 
“And I didn’t know you were as stupid as you are smart.” Fedor turned around brandishing an M6 magnum sidearm. He aimed it at Otto’s chest. “You must think me a fool to believe that this was only meant for the Covenant. Once they were dealt with, how long until you turned it on the Colonies? On Earth?”
Otto slowly raised his hands above his head. He didn’t plan on dying today. “Fedor put down the gun,” he asked dryly.
“It should’ve been obvious that putting a group together of power-hungry elites would come up with something like this.” Fedor kept the gun on him in one hand and pressed a key on the panel with the other. If Otto was a military man, he may have gone for the gun. But the only strength he had was in his mind.
“It’s been a long day, Fedor. You just need rest. We all need rest.” Otto tried to ease the tension that stuffed the air around them.
“You can get your rest in a cell.” Fedor kept the gun centered on Otto’s chest. One single wrong move and he gets a fatal shot to the heart.
“You’ve gone mad.” Before Otto could further express his outrage at what was happening, the door to the chamber opened. Beyond the door stood Felix Goudreau accompanied by a dozen or so security behind him.
The SILVERBACK agent stood taller than everyone and had to lower his head below the doorframe to enter. His armored boots pounded strongly on the wood-tiled floor as he entered. It had been rare to see him not wearing that armor, and even rarer to hear him speak. He glanced at Otto once before turning to Fedor.
“Is there a problem, Director?” The agent asked.
“What took you so long, you damned idiot.” Fedor chided at him.
“If I may speak, I believe the Director has gone insane,” Otto said with his hands still raised.
“Put the Doctor in custody. Have a guard posted at his cell at all times. Nobody is allowed to visit him.” Fedor said with a sharp tongue, ignoring Otto's previous statement.
The SILVERBACK agent stood for a moment, staring at Fedor and then turned his head to Otto. The ocular implant in his right eye glowed a faint red color. His face betrayed no expression.
“That is an order!” Fedor shouted nervously.
Felix walked forward, reached Otto and looked down at him. Without a word, he grabbed Otto firmly by the shoulder and ushered him forward to the door. Just before exiting the room, Otto caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye as Fedor was taking a sigh of relief.
Enjoy it now, old man.
Back to top
===Chapter Four===
Noah Sówka
Deliver Us From Evil
:Bridge of the UNSC Atacama
:Mazovian Orbit
:April 10, 2538
Noah followed Ashley through the tight corridors of the Atacama on their way to the bridge. They passed the sick bay and crew quarters that housed the eighty-six crew members and finally reached the central elevator connecting all four decks of the ship. The ride up gave them a brief window to speak. 
“How bad do you think it is?” Noah asked. 
“I wish there was something to comfort you with, but with the records, we have to describe Covenant bombardment. . .” 
“Yeah. I know.” Noah felt the pit in his stomach grow even more. 
Without warning, Noah felt her take his hand. She held onto it tightly for the rest of the ride up, and then let go when the door of the elevator opened.
Ashley stepped out first and he followed her. The bridge was dark and cold. Blue, green, and red light faintly illuminated the walls and floors as the bridge crew silently worked at their stations. Captain Amman Bashir stood over a wide holographic map of the city of Toruń, with Stratus hovering next to it like an approaching storm cloud. 
“Captain.” Ashley grabbed the attention of Captain Bashir. 
Captain Bashir turned his head and stood straight. “Agent Coeman,” he welcomed. “I see your plan was a success,” he added when he saw Noah behind her. 
“It was.” Ashley agreed. “You have my thanks.” She pulled the lighter from her pocket and tossed it at the Captain.
Bashir caught it with his prosthetic arm and tucked it away inside the leg pocket of his gray command uniform. Noah had read through his file before boarding the Atacama. Learning how he had lost his original arm during a fleet engagement with the Covenant back in ‘32 serving as a lieutenant aboard a destroyer. That battle also rewarded him with a particularly nasty looking scar starting from the side of his face near the ear and curling downward toward his chest. Because of his appearance, the crew referred to him as “Mechaniko”, a popular heroic film character from the past century. 
“By now I’m sure you’ve heard of the situation we’re dealing with?” Bashir asked Noah directly.
“Only the details I was briefed on before we left dock,” Noah answered. His eyes drifted over to the hologram of his hometown. The city he had grown up in looked unrecognizable. It was alien to him as if it couldn’t possibly be the home that he knew. “Are there any survivors?” his voice sounded dry and rough. 
Bashir rubbed his dense black beard and turned back to the holotable. The map of Toruń dissolved and a projection of the entire planet of Mazovia took its place. It rotated slowly on its own until the Captain turned it manually, showing the extent of the damage that the Covenant had caused. Every population center had been hit. Toruń. Sněžka. Pilecki. Even the outlying rural regions in the still untamed vast wildernesses were burned away. Noah could see the massive smokestacks rising high into Mazovia’s atmosphere. Carrying unfathomable amounts of ash, dust, and other noxious particulates high into the atmosphere.
“We arrived just in time to see the final engagement.” Bashir pointed out. “It’s not pretty, but we believe the planet is still habitable.”
Noah spoke up. “Final engagement?” 
“While you two were still in the observation dome, we observed the final fleet engagement.” Next to the planet, several dots blinked into existence. When Captain Bashir zoomed in on them, Noah could see the fleet formation and makeup of the colony’s defensive force and the Covenant invasion fleet. 
Less than twenty ships of cruisers, destroyers, and frigates lined up to take on the smaller Covenant fleet. The Navy’s forces were organized into two battlegroups led by the Marathon-class cruiser UNSC Heisenberg and the Halcyon-class cruiser UNSC Kaspar Röist. Together, the battlegroups fought against the Covenant fleet with little chance for success. 
The opening salvo from the Navy dispatched the smaller auxiliary vessels guarding the flanks of the Covenant flagship, a massive capital ship that resembled a fishhook. The larger Covenant ships suffered little damage, their shields safely protecting them from the weaker MAC and missile weaponry that made up the bulk of the Navy’s firepower. 
When the Covenant ships returned fire, it was a massacre. The Heisenberg had been almost instantly vaporized by the fishhook warship. It’s hull cracked and disintegrated as plasma melted away its armor and penetrated deep enough to explode and destroy the ship’s main reactor. 
What remained of the Navy’s forces continued to fight, and even managed to strike a fatal blow to a battlecruiser. The victory was short-lived, however, as the fishhook ship barreled through the debris of its fallen escorts and rushed the human formation. To make matters worse, two additional battlecruisers flanked the Navy formation, returning from their glassing of Toruń. 
Feeling tense, Noah watched the feed, daring not to take his eyes off it. “All of this happened before we left slipspace?” he asked. 
“The final shots were fired just as we approached Casimir. By the time we emerged on the other side of the moon, all that was left was a graveyard.” Bashir replied. “I’m sorry.”
But a stroke of luck fell in favor of the Navy, as Mazovia’s sole surviving orbital weapon station came into range and provided much-needed fire support. It was smaller than the Moncton-classes Noah had seen surrounding Reach, but they still packed enough of a punch to disable the shields of a Covenant warship, at least on paper. 
The station fired its main gun and not only did it puncture through the shield of one of the battlecruisers, it penetrated deep into the ship’s hull, critically damaging the ship as it struck a reactor and blew off an entire section of the cruiser. It tumbled in low orbit until it was finally finished off by two MAC rounds from the battlegroup. 
This turn of events left the Covenant with only two ships, but the Navy had less than ten. While the Navy had the numbers, their only remaining high tonnage ship was the Kaspar Röist. Suddenly aware of the weapon station in orbit, the battlecruiser broke off its attack and changed course to rush the orbiting station and destroy it. Like a sacrificial lamb.
Knowing that their only chance to destroy the flagship was keeping the orbital weapon station intact, the Kaspar Röist assisted by the Charon-class frigate Syracuse chased after the Covenant battlecruiser as it rushed for the station. Both the Kaspar Röist and Syracuse fired their MACs, only for their slugs to impact harmlessly against the battlecruiser’s shields. The Covenant ship returned fire by unleashing its aft pulse lasers, gutting the Kaspar Röist across its side and disabling its primary weapon systems. 
Unable to continue the fight, the Kaspar Röist broke off its pursuit and left only the Syracuse to chase the cruiser. The Syracuse fired its MAC again and supported it with a volley of Archer missiles. The firing solution was timed as to impact all at the same time, in the hopes that the combined firepower would overload the shields and leave it vulnerable for a short time. 
But the attack failed again, the shields of the battlecruiser were too strong for the frigate’s weaponry. Noah noticed Captain Bashir was biting his thumb, and silently pointed out the orbital weapon station. 
Suddenly, the weapon station fired its main gun again, punching through the battlecruiser’s shields and piercing into its bulbous front section. The round exited near the ship’s engines, gutting it of both its weapons and propulsion systems. The MAC round continued on its course and nearly grazed the Syracuse as it shot past. 
The station then unleashed its secondary weapons as the Covenant ship was laid bare and left vulnerable. Syracuse fired another volley of Archer missiles in support. Missiles and coilgun fire impacted all over the ship, leaving hundreds of holes in place of the smooth, almost organic hull design that the Covenant had become familiarized with. Even after all that firepower, the ship still wasn’t destroyed. Instead, it spun lifelessly in Mazovia’s exosphere, no longer a threat. 
Strangely, it reminded him of the pitted ant colonies that could be found in cliff walls deep in the forest that surrounded his family home. A part of his brain waited for giant space ants to come crawling out of the holes marked all over the cruiser. Instead, dozens of Covenant transport ships escaped from the doomed ship’s hangers, heading for the planet’s surface. 
With its enemy defeated, the Syracuse turned around, planning to join back up with the rest of the battlegroup until it suddenly diverted its course away from the battle. Instead, it turned back around and headed for the orbital station. Then, transport ships and ferries swarmed out of its hangers, heading somewhere to the surface of the planet. A pair of Longsword fighters were also launched, attacking and eliminating as many Covenant transports as they could before they reached the surface.
“What’s that about?” Noah asked. 
The Captain said nothing, and held his hand up with a raised finger. Noah saw it. 
The Kaspar Röist was leading the charge. It’s weapon systems were back online and she fired her MAC at the last Covenant ship, followed by a barrage of MAC and Archer fire from the destroyers on her flanks. It was only when the Röist’s MAC round impacted against the Covenant shields that Noah noticed the Shiva nuclear warhead trailing it. 
The destroyer’s MAC rounds and Archer missiles temporarily overloaded the shield’s of the alien ship, allowing the nuclear missile to slip through. The nuke detonated, creating a brief flash of light around the flagship. But as the light dimmed, it slowly revealed that the ship was still largely intact and unharmed. 
Noah exhaled loudly as the Covenant ship fired over continuous barrages of plasma torpedos toward the battlegroup. All of the ships were destroyed save for the Kaspar Röist, who despite all odds, kept its course toward the ship. The Röist gained speed, pushing itself to the limit with one final effort. 
Noah understood what was about to happen. He whispered out a prayer and thanked them for what they were about to do. 
The Kaspar Röist slammed into the flagship’s shields, the force of the hit caused the shields to overload, sending what remained of the Kaspar Röist into the front of the ship. Just as the Röist sacrificed itself did the orbital weapon station fire its MAC one last time. The round sliced into the weakest section of the fishhook-shaped ship and cracked it into two. 
The remains of the flagship and the Kaspar Röist were caught by Mazovia’s gravity, and together they slowly began their fiery descent to the surface. Noah never spotted any lifeboats or transport ships fleeing from the fishhook ship. It seemed that many aboard never expected that they would ever need to flee. 
The battle was over. The projection dissolved and left the holotable clear aside from Stratus, who floated in silence. 
“That was all we could recover,” Bashir started. “Stratus is still trying to sift through the details and for a clearer picture of events. But it’s not looking good.” 
“But there are still people, right?” Noah asked. 
Bashir faced Ashley with a silent, contemplating look. “Every population center got hit. Sněžka was wiped off the map completely. There are so many smokestacks coming from Toruń that we can’t even assess the damage done to it. So far there’s not much difference when it comes to other regions.” he finally said. 
There was nothing Noah could say or do that could change that reality. He was helpless. As much as the billions of others affected by this war. 
“I understand it was your home. I’m sorry. Nobody deserves to have this happen to them.” The Captain added. 
Living this far from Earth? Who hasn’t? Noah said to himself. 
“Noah,” Ashley placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 
Noah felt numb. He felt like he was losing his senses. The metallic smell of the bridge had faded away, and he barely heard Ashley talk despite standing right next to him.
“I’m sure.” Noah said, mustering whatever confidence in him that remained. 
“You don’t need to do this, son.” Bashir intoned with lamented sincerity. 
Son. What a strange thing to say to someone of my age.
“Nobody else will stand up to the task. I will go.” When Noah looked around, all the eyes of the bridge crew were on him. 
Captain Bashir hesitated to speak, and Ashley nodded reluctantly. 
“So be it.” Bashir said. “Stratus, bring up the city of Toruń’s layout. Give us the 2454 portfolio.” 
Noah raised an eyebrow and walked next to the holotable. “2454? That’s the year the Kampus Scientifica was established.” He leaned over the table as Mazovia’s most prestigious university materialized. 
“Indeed it is. Mazovia always wanted to elevate itself over its fellow Outer Colonies. The campus was meant to impress crown jewel; draw in elites from the Core. Like a child wanting to impress their parents.” Bashir said.
“The Kampus still attracted a great number of students, even drawing in researchers from Earth to examine archeological digs founded a year before I was born.” Noah was unsure why this information was relevant to his mission. “Why does this have to do with Brigham anyway?” 
“Noah. . .” Ashley said softly. “Brigham’s been dead for fifteen years.” She was leaning against a metal pillar, a shadow obscured her face. 
“What?” Noah leaned away from the table. “The briefings. The dossiers. All of that—” 
“Fake.” Bashir finished for him. 
“Another deception. Like always.” Noah didn’t look at Ashley, but she knew the words were meant for her. 
“That’s not true.” 
“Then why the lies?” He shot a piercing glance at her as she emerged from her shadow. “Why bring me all the way out here? Just to watch my home burn?” Noah could see the hurt in her eyes when he said that.
“The mission. Your mission, is not a deception.” Bashir interrupted their spat. “To maintain complete secrecy, we needed you to believe you were hunting down another rogue asset.” 
“They weren’t ‘rogue assets’, they were my comrades.” The words fumed from Noah’s mouth with no hesitation.
Captain Bashir ignored him and continued. “This is straight from the top. Off the books retrieval or termination. There will be no compromises.” Bashir circled around the holotable. “Stratus, bring up Kampus Scientifica building portfolio dated 2526. Then overlay it with 2454.” 
“Merging. . .” Stratus said. Both projections of the university merged together into one. “Done. It’s almost identical.” The AI pointed out. 
“Almost,” Bashir said. “Can you see it?” He said directly to Noah. 
He saw it. It was a barely noticeable hallway located just beneath the university’s main lobby. An untouched passage to a dead end. “Yes.” 
“That hallway leads to nowhere. It’s been empty for twelve years. No references to it exist in the university’s records. Nobody goes near it, nobody knows why it's there.” Bashir revealed. 
“Tornado shelter, maybe? Toruń had an epidemic of macrobursts when I was a child. So many homes and offices were damaged.” Noah rubbed at his beard, remembering.
“Then why was it built nearly half a century after those macrobursts had ended? Stratus scoured through every single surviving building record for the university. This hallway only appears in 2526. Built during the university’s renovation after it had received special grants from Naval Intelligence. It was a revolutionary time for the university.” Noah’s eyes darted up from the holotable. “Yes, you’re now beginning to understand,” Bashir said. 
“An ONI facility underneath the university?” 
“Have you ever heard of the Phaedra Project?” Bashir asked.
Noah glanced at Ashley with uncertainty and shook his head back to Bashir. “Can’t say I have.” 
Bashir prodded away at the controls of the holotable, bringing up a projection of a man with dark skin. Next to his profile was an emblem. The signature all-seeing eye of ONI, surrounded by beams of light as they shot out from the triangle. Below the emblem listed the name: PHAEDRA.
“Now more than ever, the UNSC is in critical need of combat-capable artificial intelligence to fight the Covenant. PHAEDRA was created to expand the lifespans of these AIs, among other things. Our darkest days still lay ahead for us, and we’ll need every resource we can get our hands on to stay in this fight.”
“Expanding beyond seven years is a fool’s gambit. The dangers and risks outweigh any benefits. ”
“Seven years on average. Many agricultural and security AIs already share singular data centers, allowing their lifespans to exceed beyond those seven years. Duplication, Triad links, Nocturnality theory, every hypothetical you can imagine has already been thought of, yet none have ever been put into practice.”
“Until PHAEDRA.”
Bashir nodded. “That man, there,” he pointed at the profile hovering over the table. “That is Doctor Melvin Jovel. Your target.” The profile expanded to include his full body. The simulation had him bald and wearing a lab coat. His height, blood type, and age were listed next to him. The display that showed his vital signs were blank, no connection could be made with the facility. 
“If he’s dead?” Noah asked bluntly. 
“Retrieve any and all research materials and studies related to PHAEDRA. Then torch the facility.” Bashir leaned forward over the table. “If that isn’t possible, torch it anyway. The Covenant cannot get their hands on that facility.”
“And my extraction?”
“Secure PHAEDRA, and you’ll get your extraction.”
“Captain!” The navigation officer suddenly yelled out. “We have contact!”
Noah, Ashley and the Captain all turned their heads to the front of the bridge. Noah followed the Captain as he walked over to the Ensign.
“More Covenant?” Noah asked, but nobody answered.
“Stratus, what is it?” Bashir asked, but no reply came. “Stratus?” he said again with more authority. 
Stratus blinked into existence above a cylindrical holotank between the helm controls. “My apologies, Captain. But we have detected movement in the planet’s lower orbit.”
“Covenant in origin?” Bashir asked. 
“No, it appears to be the Syracuse, sir,” Stratus said. “They’re carrying refugees and are preparing a jump to slispace. Should we hail them?” 
“No, scan the ship for ONI Civilian Consultant Melvin Jovel. We’ll hail them only if he’s aboard.”
“Scanning. . .” Several pulses came and went, and Stratus remained silent.
“Stratus? Respond.” A hint of irritation lingered in the Captain’s voice. 
“Sir. . .” Stratus finally responded, there was a deep sadness in his digitized voice. “It’s only children.”
Back to top
===Chapter Five===
Selim Çelik
Force Multiplier
:Jajovice Airbase
:Toruń province, Mazovia
:April 10, 2538
The air was stained with the smell of death. All around Selim laid the dead, dying, and those unlucky enough to survive what was coming next.
“Get the M247s back online!” somebody shouted. “We need those Forty-mike-mikes on the balcony” another voice called out. It was chaos. They were surrounded on all sides by an enemy that would kill every last one of them.
But Selim pressed on, determined to save lives at the possible expense of his own. 
“Keep holding his abdomen there,” Selim said with a calm voice. “Yes, like that—” His assistant flinched as the sound of a plasma mortar struck the side of the building. Concrete dust shook and fell from the ceiling. “Resa. Please, you have to keep calm. We’re almost done. Resa. Resa, look at me.” She was shaking from stress, and her eyes leaked with tears. Every fiber of her body urged her to run, but when she looked at Selim composure, some of it transferred to her. “Yes, that’s it. Keep your eyes on me.” 
Selim looked back down at the seventeen-centimeter long needle embedded into the trooper’s abdomen. A faint purple glow pulsed slowly inside the needle. Almost like a timer. 
Fortunately for this soldier, the needle never exploded on contact. It gave Selim a chance to finally see the effects of an IRGE (infrared-guided explosive) needle up close, and hopefully, save this man’s life. Most wounds like these are never pretty. Some are torn apart completely from as little as two needles. Some are cut in half and die from shock before they can ever get treatment. You were considered lucky if you only lost an arm or leg. Not even plasma weapons are this inhumane. 
The needle lodged in his lower torso didn’t damage too much of his organs, nothing that couldn’t be sealed up with biofoam and treated later. Treating this would be a tricky business. Cutting the needle in half with a saw could trigger the explosive. And leaving it inside endangered him, and everyone else in the room. Selim realized that the only course of action would be incredibly stupid and in violation of everything he was taught. 
“Resa—when I pull this thing out, I want you to get as much distance from me as possible. Ready?” Resa nodded her head with shivering eyes. 
Selim began to pull on the needle, making the soldier grimace and scream in pain. There was no anesthetics or morphine left. “Go, I’ve got it!” Selim yelled. 
Selim continued to pull on the needle, all seventeen centimeters of it exited the infantryman's body with a suction cup sound. 
The purple glow inside the needle grew brighter in Selim’s hand for a moment before winking out completely. He breathed a sigh of relief, but when he reopened his eyes, the glow inside the needle returned. It got brighter and brighter, and the pulses returned. Every second that passed the pulses became more rapid, like a ticking time bomb. “Shit,” Selim whispered. He bolted out from the medical curtain and ran up the stairs. He could feel Resa’s eyes on him, but he dared not look back. He kept racing up the stairs until he found a window and opened it. Beyond him, the walls of the base were still standing. Selim threw the needle out of the window and over the top of the wall. Just in time too, as the needle exploded and created a thick cloud of purplish-black smoke. 
Selim could hear the battle raging outside but there was no time to think or look outside the window. He ran back down the stairs and to his patient. When he passed through the curtain, Resa was already there, sealing the wound with biofoam and applying an intravenous PolyHeme (polymerized hemoglobin) to his arm. “Thank you,” Selim panted, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. 
“Is he stable?” he asked. 
Resa checked her medical scanner. “He is.” 
“Good. . . good. We still have work to do.” Selim gestured for her to follow him. 
The room they were in was the lobby of the main building of the Jajovice Airbase. The medical wing was wiped out in the initial attack, killing most of Selim’s medical staff. Resa was all that was left. 
Selim was almost double her age, a woman of a younger generation thrown into the hell that was this war. As young as she was, she was a gifted surgical assistant and nurse even after she had been rushed onto the frontlines before completing her training. And now, her gifts would be needed more than ever if anyone was to survive this. 
The lobby was filled with wounded and dead soldiers and airmen. The base had been hit so hard that its fighter wing was completely decimated in seconds, never getting a chance to get into the air. The air and ground belonged to the Covenant, tightening their grip on us with every second.
As Selim walked through the lobby, he realized there was not much left he could do. Painkillers and morphine were depleted hours ago. Their supplies of biofoam and MediGel were dangerously low. Soldiers with plasma burns and radiation burns turned in their makeshift beds as there was nothing to treat them with or to dull their pain. 
“Resa, what’s the count of anesthetics, coagulants, and gels?” Selim already knew the numbers, but he hoped that this time something would be different. Maybe a spare pack of morphine found under some rubble, or a canister of biofoam behind some sandbags. He cursed the Covenant for destroying the medical wing and the supplies that were in it. 
Resa checked her PDA behind him. Her voice didn’t sound very confident. “Zero anesthetics. Seven biofoam canisters. Two gel kits. Maybe we could—”
“It’s not enough,” he said under his breath. 
“Sir?” she said, there was a tremble in her voice. 
The sound of gunfire and plasma fire drew closer. The Covenant were nearing the main building of the base. He could see the blue and green flashes outside, just beyond the windows of the lobby. 
This is the end of everything.
Selim wiped the sweat from his face and turned around to Resa. He grabbed her arm and led her back to the infantryman behind the curtain. There, he handed her the soldier’s sidearm. “Take this, and head to the basement. Beneath the stairs, you’ll find an old passageway. Keep following the path and it will guide you out to the forest, far away from this.” He held the sidearm against her chest until she took it. 
“What? I can’t—what about you—the others!” quavered Resa.
Selim grabbed the MA37 assault rifle from the table and checked the magazine and changed it to a full one. He grabbed another two and stuffed them into his medical bag. “I’ll keep them safe, you must go. Once you get to the forest, remain there for three days. Don’t go to a city and get caught in a glassing.” he instructed. 
She stood there dumbstruck and tried to protest. “Go!” demanded Selim with a demanding voice, and she was off running without another word.
Just as she turned the corner, the doors to the lobby flew open. In its place, stood a silver armored Elite carrying an ignited energy sword. The Elite roared in triumph and charged Selim. 
Selim emptied the first magazine on the Elite, depleting its shield but not breaking it. As it got closer, he noticed that its armor was caked in red blood, the blood of his comrades. 
When the Elite closed the gap, it lunged at Selim. Selim narrowly managed to dodge to the left and avoid the blade. He fed another magazine into the rifle and fired it again at the Elite’s back. The assault rifle’s ammo counter blinked red as he unloaded the magazine, further depleting the alien’s shield. 
“One to go,” he said to himself as he fed the last mag into the rifle. He gave it a presumptive slap for good luck. “Come on,” he said to the alien. “Come on, turn around. Let’s see that ugly face.” 
The Elite snarled and slashed away toward Selim as it turned to face him. He fired short, controlled bursts hoping to break the shield and score a few good hits with the remaining rounds. But the ammo counter ticked down below ten and the alien’s shield was still active as the Elite got closer to ending him. 
Just as the rifle spent all its rounds did the Elite slash upward at him. Selim grabbed the rifle with both hands and blocked the blade. The rifle was cut in half and the tip of the blade sliced the bottom of his left ear. 
Selim grimaced in pain but noticed that the alien’s shields were down. The last of his rounds cracked and depleted the shield completely, and the Elite was vulnerable for a short time. 
The alien made a sound as if it was celebrating a victory, and raised its blade above its head for a killing blow. But when the alien brought the blade down, Selim noticed something attached to its waist. Another energy blade, with a smaller handle.
Selim rolled out of the way and kicked the Elite’s pelvis. While the alien was taken aback, he grabbed the blade handle. He fumbled with it, trying to figure out how to hold it correctly. He was afraid that igniting it would cause the blade to slice through his hand.
But when Selim ignited it, it expanded outward in the right direction. The blade was shorter than the sword and reminded him of ancient short blades or even daggers from Earth.
Selim readied himself for a decisive final fight. But the Elite just stood there, its mandibles made a sound reminiscent to laughter. Then the alien spoke in Selim’s own language. “You’ve got more honor than most, a rare trait for your kind.” said the alien, in the best English it could muster.
“It’s not honor, only survival.” Selim wiped away the blood running from his ear. “I’m ready, how about you?” he asked with fire in his voice.
The Elite fell silent and charged Selim. They locked their blades together as they clashed. Selim used all the strength in his body to not be overpowered by the alien. When he felt himself losing, he grabbed a scalpel from the instrument table next to him and stabbed one of the Elite’s mandibles. 
The alien screamed in pain and backed away, its free hand clutching at its mouth. The Elite grabbed onto the scalpel and pulled it out. A small pool of purple blood formed at the Elite’s feet. “I stand corrected,” said the alien.
Selim readied himself again, but this time he went on the offensive. They clashed their blades together several times more, until the fourth when Selim lost his footing and fell to the floor. The alien’s blade managed to slice across his right arm, burning the skin and tearing his uniform. 
Selim grabbed his arm and yelled painfully. When he looked up at the alien, he saw it bringing down the blade to decapitate him. Just before the blade went for his neck, a bang sounded from behind the Elite and something struck him on its back, penetrating the harness and wounding it. When the alien turned around, another two bangs rang out and struck the alien across its chest. 
The Elite fell backward, stunned. Selim saw her, smoke rose from the barrel of the M6G magnum that Resa was holding. When the alien raised its head once more, Resa unloaded another two rounds into its mouth and skull, killing it. 
Selim was still laying on the floor when Resa rushed over to help him. “Your hurt,” said a worried Resa. “I’ll go grab one of the gel kits!” 
Selim grabbed her by the wrist before she could stand back up. “No,” Selim groaned. “Just help me up.” 
Resa nodded hesitantly and helped him stand back up with his good arm. When he was standing, he looked down at the arm and examined the wound. The blade cut into the skin and seared his flesh from his forearm to shoulder, but no bone was damaged and he could still move it albeit with some pain.
Selim picked up the energy dagger next to him and looked around. “Why didn’t you listen?” he asked Resa. 
“I—” she hesitated. “I couldn’t leave you—or them.” 
“You should have.”
“I’m not running! Not anymore,” she said with a rare assertive tone that he’d never heard from her before. 
“Brave of you,” he said. “Brave, but stupid.” 
“I’m not the one sword fighting aliens, sir.” jested Resa.
“No, no I suppose you’re not.” Selim with a grin. 
Before they could think of what to do next, Selim heard the front door of the lobby slam open yet again. Fearing that another Elite or worse had shown up, his body snapped around and ignited the dagger to face the threat. 
But when his eyes focused, he saw only the figure of a human running toward him. 
“Lieutenant! Thank God you’re still alive!” the soldier called out. 
The look of relief on the Army trooper’s face puzzled Selim. “Trooper. What’s going on?” he asked.
“We won!” Selim turned back to Resa with a confused expression. “It was—It was the—” The soldier’s breathing was ragged, and his face was covered in dirt and ash. His head was covered by a bloody bandage wrapped around it. 
“Relax, private.” Selim placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. 
“It was the Militia, sir. They came from behind the Covenant on all fronts. They killed them all or sent them running back to the city! They told me that the Governor sent them to relieve us, they even had a Spartan!” The trooper was still breathing hard and nearly choked on a cough from overexerting himself.
Selim stood stunned by so much information at once. Resa then moved forward and seated the trooper on a chair. “Here, let me fetch you some water,” she said, running off to the hallway. 
“Governor? Sněžka was destroyed completely within minutes of the Covenant’s arrival. There is no central government left.” Selim said to the trooper. A Spartan? Impossible. They're just a myth.
“I dunno, sir, but that’s what they told me to tell you.”
“Tell me? Where’s Lieutenant Colonel Guo?” he asked.
The trooper’s eyes failed to make eye contact, and he hesitated with what he said next. “Sir. . . you’re the highest-ranking officer we have left.”
Back to top
===Chapter Six===
Noah Sówka
Path of Silence
:Toruń Forest
:Mazovia
:April 10, 2538
“He said there were more than a thousand onboard.” Ashley said, trying to keep pace.
“A thousand. Out of millions.” said a plaintive Noah.
“I know it’s not enough,”
“It never is.”
“Will you just listen to me?” Ashley grabbed Noah by the arm. It was a forceful tug, and it stopped him in his tracks. “Look at me, please.”
Noah turned around, facing her for possibly the last time. He wasn’t expecting to come back.
“I’ve already said my peace, Ash.”
“By brushing me off.”
She was right. Just as the briefing ended, Noah started for the belly of the Atacama that held the ship’s drop pods. His one-way ticket down to the planet. He was determined to complete his mission, and stay behind. He would put his home back together again. Brick by brick, street by street, or die trying.
“Why won’t you let me come with you?” she asked.
To keep you safe. He wanted to say. “This is my mission,” he said instead.
“Give me ten minutes and I’ll grab my gear. Like the old—”
“No,” Noah said with a sharp tongue affirming that the discussion was settled. He lowered his voice when he saw her recoil backward. “Please.”
She lowered her eyes and nodded reluctantly. “When you get back—” Her face looked misty-eyed. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something that you deserve to know.”
“You can tell me now,” Noah said calmly and soft.
“When you get back,” Ashley said with a choked breath. She moved forward and closed both hands around one of his. Her hands were firm but soft, tightening around his calloused fingers. “Promise me.”
Noah hesitated for a moment, feeling unsettled. “I promise.” He lied, right to her face. It made him feel sick and empty inside.
They continued together to the belly of the Atacama, finally arriving at the drop bay. Two dozen drop pods lined both sides of the room. Each suspended in their launch tubes. All but one. A casket just for him, ready to send him to Hell.
Inside the drop pod was his sidearm and a case-like object that contained everything he would need for this mission barring food and water. Those would have to be procured on-sight. When he reached the pod, he checked his sidearm, a M6C magnum, and ensured he had enough magazines. The case was secured behind the seat of the pod. Everything was ready to go.
Noah had denied the recommendation of a combat suit. The uniform was similar to what ODSTs wore. Instead, he wore a temperature regulating and protective bodysuit underneath his outfit and jacket. This was often jokingly referred to as ‘super-spy business attire’ as the suit he wore concealed the bodysuit that protected him from varying degrees of small-arms fire. When he’d begin his descent to the planet, a helmet would link with his bodysuit, protecting him from the heat that would be generated and providing limited oxygen in the event of a hull breach.
Noah entered the pod and secured himself. He checked and double-checked the systems of the pod, and ensured that his temporary helmet was functioning properly. He removed the safeties and gave the green light.
“Don’t be a hero,” Ashley said, standing in front of the pod.
“I never was,” replied Noah.
The countdown timer winked to life with thirty seconds.
The hatch of the pod closed before Ashley could say anything else. She backed away as the pod turned a hundred and eighty degrees and connected with the launch tube. Noah caught a glimpse of Ashley’s face one last time. A single tear was running down the side of her cheek. Forgive me, Ash.
Captain Bashir appeared on a viewscreen inside the pod. “You’ll be landing somewhere in a forest just outside Toruń. We’ll be monitoring you every step of the way. I can’t guarantee anything, but we’ll try to provide you with support where we can. Good luck, Agent Sówka.” The Captain’s face disappeared with static as the transmission ended.
“Whatever happens, happens. . .” Noah said to himself out loud, undaunted by any listening ears within the pod.
The timer dropped to zero, and Noah felt the clamps connecting the pod to the ship detach. The pod fired out from the launch tube, shooting for Mazovia below.
The pod rumbled as it entered the planet’s atmosphere. He passed through layers of clouds and mist. After clearing the cloud layer, he could see the remnants of Toruń. As he got closer, he could begin to pick out the finer details.
So much was gone, reduced to piles of rubble and dust. It was nothing like the reconnaissance photos or holographic projection. It was so much worse than he could have imagined. Poisonous black smoke hung high in the air, and fires continued to rage all throughout the damaged buildings and streets.
The pod began its final descent as it appeared over the forest. The ejection bolts flashed red, notifying Noah to brace for impact.
Less than 30 seconds before it hit the ground Noah felt something pulled hard on him. Something smacked into the side of the pod, throwing him off course and sending the pod spinning uncontrollably to the ground. Just before he hit the surface, Noah looked up and saw the corner of his pod glowing a bright yellowish-orange. Plasma.
His pod hit the ground hard, kicking dirt high up into the canopy. Tumbling and rolling, the pod only came to halt when it slammed into a large tree. The inertial negators built into the pod did its best, but Noah still rocked his head against his seat’s headrest, disorienting him.
Despite his disorientation, Noah was alert and conscious. He looked around the pod and tried to reestablish contact with the Atacama. He called out on every available channel, but with the pod in the state it was in, his only response was static.
Noah sunk back into his chair, letting out a sigh. He sat there for a few minutes, his mind racing. Wondering if the Atacama was panicking with their sudden loss of contact. Wondering what the hell it was that hit his pod. And wondering what Ashley was thinking right now. His mind was racing with the thought of her. So cruel and cold to her back on that ship, and now he’ll never get to see her again. He hated himself for that. He wished he could turn back time. To caress her hair again. Holding her close and feeling her warmth. To tell her that everything would be alright.
He sat alone in that pod as those thoughts tore away at him. It was only through the blinking red lights flashing in the pod that took him out of his trance. A soft beeping noise pulsed every four seconds in his head. Noah lifted his head from the headrest and looked around. Four red lights illuminated his wrinkled face, waiting for the pod’s occupant to release the gas-bolts that were keeping him in this titanium coffin.
Noah checked the communications link to the Atacama one more time. Dead static. Alone, just like the universe always intended.
Noah punched the first gas-bolt, and it turned green. The system was still functional, meaning he was not trapped here. He punched another two gas-bolts, both turning green like the first. One final punch to the last gas-bolt, and the pod door shot open and forward. The door bounced off the trunk of a tree, ripping some of the bark before landing with a heavy thump.
Peeking out of the pod with caution, Noah was unsure if he was in hostile territory. Unwilling to exit the pod and be met with a face full of plasma, he sat waiting with his sidearm in hand. He listened closely, but could only hear the sounds of birds returning to their nests and the calmness of a nearby stream.
Noah holstered his sidearm and grabbed the case from behind his seat. It was undamaged. He exited the safety of the pod and for the first time in decades, Noah set foot on his homeworld. His boots dug into the dirt path that had been carved by the pod’s crash. The soil was fresh and fertile, with a slight reddish-purple tint that gave Mazovia its characteristic look from space.
There was no way to tell where he was or how deep into the forest he was without any contact with the Atacama. But there was an unfamiliar familiarity when he looked around his surroundings. The city was to the north-east of the forest, and with a modest exhale, he began his journey in that direction.
About a hundred paces from the drop pod, the sound of birds and leaves rustling in the trees surrounded Noah. A soft breeze washed over his face as he walked. The forest was unsettlingly peaceful. As if it was in the eye of the storm. A place untouched by the war. 
A break in the calmness came to an end when Noah came upon a rushing stream. 
He kneeled down and ran his hand through the water. Fresh and cool. He cupped his hands together and gathered some water to drink. Then he did it again and splashed the water on his face to wash away the dust and sweat beading on his forehead. 
When he opened his eyes his reflection in the stream had changed. He was a child again, a face so full of youth and hope. His mother, Jaroslava, appeared behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. Noah felt his mother’s touch. He saw her smile, but when he turned his head to face her, she was gone. “Mother?” he called out, but the forest did not answer. 
The sound of the birds had died down, and the only sound left in the forest was of the stream. Noah stood up, shaking away the confusing look on his face, and continued his journey.
He crossed the steam by walking over a collection of rocks. When he reached the other side, that’s when he saw the pillar of smoke rising through a break in the canopy. 
It blackened the sky above, beckoning to him to come and see. If it were a Covenant ship, it would’ve been giving off a purplish tower of smoke. 
It was human in origin. A ship, nothing else could create a tower of smoke that large this deep into the forest. Weapons, ammunition, supplies, and most importantly, communications equipment to contact the Atacama with. He was blind down here, and without their help, his plans would be useless.
He continued on his path to the smoke until he came across a large clearing. A long dirt road extended out to the east in the direction of the city. His destination. Easily accessible if he’d follow the road. But instead he felt drawn to whatever awaited him at the bottom of that smoke plume. 
Across the clearing laid containers of cargo. An empty flatbed Spade sat on the dirt road, seemingly waiting for him. Burn marks where the ship took off created four distinct black ovals where the dirt and grass had been burned to a crisp. 
Noah approached one of the containers, the odor reached his nose and his eyes watered. 
Rotting desiderfruit littered the ground around the container. While delicious, desiderfruit spoiled quickly in the warm air of Mazovia outside its cleverly designed packaging, and the smell could almost be described as being sprayed by a skunk. 
He ignored the smell and approached the container. He noticed something else. Unmarked bags were sprawled out on the ground amongst the fruit. When he picked up one of the bags, he recognized it. Feride. 
A highly potent and dangerous synthetic drug, Feride, a stylized play on the phrase “free ride”, acted as a powerful performance enhancer that became popular among various insurrectionist groups in the early stages of TREBUCHET. But only in small doses. Higher doses of feride had rather… traumatic side effects on its users. 
He dropped the bag, and it hit the dirt with a soft thump. Feride was typically ingested as a powder through the nose or mouth. But could also be injected or baked into foods.
Not wanting to be distracted any longer, Noah continued his journey toward the source of the smoke. 
He pushed his way through branches and bushes. Over fallen trees and broken dirt paths. As he got closer, metallic debris was scattered throughout his path. Pieces of metal lodged into trees, wires and landing gear that had broken off from the ship rested in ditches and creeks. 
Finally, he came to another clearing. The ship laid bare for everyone and everything to see. The crash site sat on top of a hill. He noticed the skid marks, a long scar in the earth that ended with the ship resting on the hill. 
It was a controlled crash. Whoever piloted the ship was good, and kept it from disintegrating completely when it smacked into the ground. It remained relatively intact, but the force from the crash likely would’ve killed anyone that was still onboard. 
All Noah needed was working communications equipment. A radio, a commdish, anything to get back into contact with the Atacama. 
But as he approached the crash site, he saw movement. Scavengers. 
The Jackals were picking the ship clean. He spotted four of them. Likely a foraging party. 
Noah took cover behind a rock and slowly peeked his head over the top. He scanned the treeline and watched the ship intently. Looking for any other signs of life. He could take on four Jackals by himself. But the moment he saw an Elite, or even a Grunt, he would have no choice but to retreat back to the Spade and head to the city. 
He stayed a short distance away, and circled around the crash site for better views. He waited several minutes to be absolutely sure it was just those four. When he saw no other movement, he laid his briefcase down and opened it. 
He removed the suppressor from the case, and attached it to his sidearm. Before setting out, he rubbed his hands deep into the dirt and smeared it across his long coat. When that was covered, he took another clump of dirt and mixed it into his hands and applied it against his cheeks. 
This was to mask his scent from the Jackals, at least until he was right up against them. The buzzards had a powerful sense of smell, and they would smell him before he got anywhere close to dispatch them. 
Noah moved slowly up the hill. He came to the first Jackal, who was digging through some kind of personal item container. It pulled out a toothbrush, staring at it in confusion. It nearly poked itself in the eye trying to examine it. He took this opportunity and wrapped his arm around the alien’s neck. 
Noah used his free hand to hold the Jackal’s beak closed. Holding it so tightly he swore he could hear it crunch. The alien’s muffled shrieks of pain and panic were conjoined with its body as it flailed in terror. 
Noah tightened his hold around the alien’s neck until he heard a life-ending crunch. It’s body stopped moving, and he loosened his grip. 
The alien crashed to the ground, lifeless. Noah moved on to the second and third. 
The two Jackals were tearing apart a section of the ship, scrap that he assumed they would try to sell. Nobody was quite sure what the economy of the Covenant was. The Covenant never bothered trying to scrap human vehicles, until now. 
One of the jackals was removing panels of the ship’s outer hull using something akin to a blowtorch. It removed parts of the hull with ease, and the two aliens would throw the scrap onto a pile of metal that laid on a floating platform. 
When one of the Jackals turned away and entered a hole in the ship, Noah moved forward while the other was distracted removing another panel. He grabbed the alien by its ankle and threw it off the scaffold and slammed it into the floating scrap platform. Before the Jackal could recover from its confusion, Noah hit two rounds into its chest and fired one more time at its head. 
The alien’s body laid limp and its head rested against the platform, the alien’s tongue drooping out of its mouth. 
Noah turned as fast as he could when he heard the shriek, but before he could line up a shot, the other Jackal was rushing him. Its shield and short blade were already both ignited. Only mere seconds away from being skewered, Noah rolled off to the right, dodging the alien’s swing. He picked up the blowtorch from the dead Jackal, and ignited it against the other alien’s blade arm. 
It burned deep into the alien’s skin, causing it to cry out in pain. It dropped the blade before the torch burned completely through its arm. What remained of its forearm was but a few pieces of muscle and skin barely staying attached to the rest of its arm. 
The Jackal swung its shield to Noah to protect itself, but he ignited the torch again, and it overloaded the shield. The flame burned brighter, enveloping its face and charring it to a crisp. 
But Noah abruptly stopped, and eliminated the threat with a shot to the head. It’s cries of pain ended immediately. 
Noah’s alertness for the last Jackal was at its peak, not intending to be ambushed again. He circled around the ship with his sidearm at the ready. 
He could hear the last of the aliens. It was calling out to its comrades, unaware of their fates. Unaware that its fate would be the same. 
When Noah turned the corner, it was right there. It’s wrist-mounted shield was already activated, but was not raised to its chest. 
He could see its eyes widen in shock. Its pupils dilated and it tried to raise its shield. 
It was too late. Noah peppered its chest with three shots, and another to the head. 
It’s body fell ungracefully with a hard thump on the metal flooring. The shield on its wrist deactivated moments later. 
Noah let out a long breath, but he kept his guard up, unwilling for any surprises to show up. When he realized he was alone, he finally lowered his weapon.
Noah returned to where he had left his briefcase, and brought it back with him to the wreckage. 
As he prepared to enter the ship’s cargo bay, he noticed the markings along the hull. Stormfalcon was the ship’s name. It was a fine name, but a shame it’ll never fly again.  
The mess inside the ship was no different than the mess outside. Cargo containers piled up on one side or the other. Packages of feride and desiderfuit littered the ground, the smell of the rotten fruit filled the air of the cargo bay. But worse than that was the smell of dead bodies. Human bodies. 
Two bodies lay scattered in the cargo bay. Their clothes were torn and caked with blood. 
Another body was buried beneath toppled cargo containers and netting. His heightened sense of hearing picked up on a faint wheezing coming from beneath the containers. 
He approached the source of the sound and pulled the containers off and away from the body. The woman’s face was bruised and cut along her forehead and cheek. She was barely breathing. 
He assessed her condition, using a short-range biomedical scanner from his case. There were bruises all over her body. But lucky for her, no internal bleeding. She’d already be dead by now. She had a hairline fracture in her left forearm. 
He applied a minor sedative and some medigel along the more bruised areas of her body. She fell into a deep sleep, and he carried her out of the ship. 
He carried her all the way back to the original landing zone of the Stormfalcon. By the time he had returned, night was falling. The Spade was still parked along the dirt road. 
He set her down on makeshift bedding, hastily put together with branches, car seat fabric, and a tarp. Noah later built a fire, making sure to conceal the light with the Spade by facing it perpendicular with the road, and circling the camp with small logs and rocks. He then built the fire by digging a small ditch into the ground. 
It would conceal the light from any prying eyes, but the smoke would still be visible. This was fine, as he only expected to remain here for the night. 
Noah was still unsure of what to do with the woman. Unsure if she’d even awake by morning. The thought entered his mind that if she didn’t wake up, he’d leave her here. He hated that thought, but he had a job to complete. And time was running shorter and shorter without contact with the Atacama. 
Noah stared at the fire for a while. Keeping his sidearm in hand. He kept watch over the camp. The smell of the fire filled his head with memories of Mazovia. Of his brother and sister. He shook his head violently to dissolve the memories to prevent any others from surfacing. 
It was an inappropriate time, and he needed to keep watch. 
As the hours passed, Noah watched the moon Casimir pass overhead, trailed in its wake by the smaller moon Copernicus. Stars danced around and behind the two moons of Mazovia. Some of them inhabited systems. Most of them burned by the Covenant. 
Noah wondered how many people still looked up at the night sky in awe, unaware of what’s truly out there. Coming for them. 
The woman awoke suddenly with a panicked scream. She flailed about on her bed, ragged breathing and shrieking in fear. “Hey. Hey!” Noah yelled out, jumping up from his tree stump of a seat. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “It’s okay.” She kept panicking, and he tightened his grip on her. “It’s okay. Nobody will hurt you.” 
She didn’t speak one word, but when she looked him in the eyes, he knew. The reflection of the fire danced in her brown eyes. He recognized those eyes. They were his. Full of sadness and pity. He understood at that moment, she had lost something very close to her. 
He pulled her in, and held her tightly in his chest. Only when he finally heard the faint sobbing muffled against his shirt did his once emotionless face begin to crack.
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===Chapter Seven===
Noah Sówka
The Leopard
:Mazovia
:April 11, 2538
A new sun rose over Mazovia. That same old violet-orange shade covering the sky that Noah was so fond of ever since he said his first words to his mother. 
The fire he had set the night before had died out. The pillar of smoke from the fire was starting to fade, and as he looked up to the sky, he caught a quick glimpse of a shooting star. Flaming brilliantly across the reddish sky. He wondered if it was a meteor, or a fragment from some ship. 
He hadn’t slept all night. Not like he needed the sleep anyway. Someone had to keep watch, and she was in no condition to do that. 
The woman kept tossing and turning in her sleep. She eventually jolted awake from her restlessness and sat up from the makeshift cardboard bedding. 
“Another nightmare?” Noah asked, already knowing the answer,
“Yes.” she responded, staring blankly in front of her. 
“About the girl again?” 
“No.” she said. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the field to survey her surroundings. “It was different this time. I was back on Vodin.”
“I remember reading the reports about that place. Even the sections that ONI censors didn’t want anyone to see. I’d say you lived through Hell, but I suppose that’s every colony that gets caught in the Covenant’s sights these days. I’m glad you made it out of there.” 
“Do you know what happened?” she looked at him.
“To Vodin?” Noah paused. “All contact with the colony was lost after the UNSC withdrew. Many of the colonists chose to stay from what I heard. I can understand why. It was their home, the same as this place is mine. They knew what was coming for them, and they still chose to stay and die with their world. I respect that. Admire it, even. I suppose that may be why God brought me back here. So I can die with my world, rather than abandon it.”
Those last few sentences made the woman raise her eyes to him. “You still believe?” 
“I do.” 
“You’ve seen worse than I have.”
“I have.” 
“And yet you still believe in God.” 
“And yet I still believe in God,” Noah nodded, “There is much to this existence that is ugly and cruel, even before the Covenant. It no longer surprises me when I come across people who don’t believe or have lost all hope. We live in frightening times. Nobody can tell what tomorrow will bring. An unstoppable force that can destroy their homes and lives with plasma fire. Every year, a billion souls are lost and taken away from existence. And the numbers keep growing. But even if they are no longer with us today, we still have the love of our friends and family. And we have God’s love. It gives us strength. Telling us to keep going. I am not afraid of death. We could both die today. But I know that at the end of that tunnel of Darkness, there is Light waiting for us.”
Eve looked away for a moment, pondering what she had just heard. “There may have been a time where I was inspired by words like that, but today, I don’t know.” 
Noah smiled, “And that is okay. The path that we take is different for each and every one of us. What you are today does not matter to what you will become. Only that you become greater than today.”
“Will you help me?” Eve looked back at him, her face wanting to believe what he was saying.
“I can try. But it all begins with you. Life is an adventure, no matter how tragic or painful it is. The adventure doesn’t stop when you trip, you have to finish it, or you’ll be lost in the wilderness.”
“I don’t even know where to begin.” her voice said with sadness.
“That is where it gets exciting.” he finished. 
“That was a very touching speech, old man.” An unknown voice chimed in from behind them. 
Noah dropped his guard for his heart-to-heart. They had been ambushed. He had to be careful. 
“Hello!” Noah said with a false friendliness. “I’d offer you all to join our fire,” He gestured to the pit of ash and charcoal in front of him. “But as you can see, we’ve run out of wood.” he lifted a fake smile to the leader. 
The four of them stood without a word. Each carrying a weapon. A crowbar, a bundle of rebar held together by tape, and a blunted combat knife likely stolen off some dead service member. All of them looked frightened, hungry, and tired. All but the leader, who also happened to be the only one carrying a firearm. An older M4 series. Noah couldn’t recognize the model. 
“I’m afraid we won’t be staying long,” The leader stood forward. “Me and my folk are on a tight schedule.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Noah said, already knowing where this was going. 
“Everything you have will do nicely. Any food and water you have. Your coat. Those boots. That truck. They’re mine.” 
“Are they now?” Noah asked. 
“I’m giving you a choice, old man.” The leader spat. “I could just kill both of you right now and take everything. But instead, I’m offering a trade. Everything you have for your lives.” The man flipped the switch on the safety for his sidearm, but he never raised it at them. Noah raised his eyebrow before it finally made sense to him.
“That’s a pretty one-sided trade.” Noah delayed the conversation. 
“You value that coat over your own life?” The man was growing more irritated by the second and pointed the sidearm at Noah.
That’s when Noah noticed it. 
The safety is still turned on. 
“Not at all. But we’d never make it out of this forest alive. Just like you.” 
“Is that a threat?” he asked. 
Noah didn’t want to call his bluff just yet. He still had to be careful. 
“No, but I’m sure you’ve seen what’s going on. The Covenant are everywhere. This is the safest place on the planet right now. You’d be committing suicide by taking that truck. You may as well just shoot yourself, it’ll be a way better death than what they have in store for you.” Noah explained to the man, who dropped his gaze and contemplated what he had said. 
But the man leveled his gun at Noah again instead. “Food. Coat. Keys to the truck. You can keep those boots,” he said. “That fancy lookin’ briefcase is mine too.” 
Noah sighed. “Fine.” He reached over to a box to dig through the small piles of food that he had gathered the day before. 
“Oh, and we’ll be taking the girl too.” Another voice said, behind the leader. 
Noah raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” There was venom in his voice.
“It gets lonely during the apocalypse.” The other said. A vile grin tightened on one side of his cheek. 
“You shouldn’t have said that.” Noah lowered his head, staring at his hand as he clenched it into a fist. His only thought was of Monika at that moment. “I was willing to let the four of you live and go on your way. But now,” he paused. “I can’t allow that.” 
“I’m the one holding the gun.” The man said. 
“You feel power holding it, don’t you,” Noah asked. “That abstract feeling of control in your hands.” 
“Spare us the lecture, old man.” 
“You better be ready to pull that trigger.” Noah’s hand clenched into a fist, the other, moved for his sidearm tucked into his coat. 
“Noah?” Eve said, a frightened tremble in her voice.”
“Everything is alright, child,” he said without moving his head. “When I give the signal, run for the treeline. Don’t look back no matter what you hear.” 
“You’re crazy, you know that?” 
Without a word, Noah reached into his coat. His hand found the handle and his finger flicked off the safety. 
“Don’t pull that gun on me.” the man said. 
He slowly lifted the sidearm from his pocket. 
A single gunshot rang out. 
Noah blinked. 
The round had struck the man’s weapon. Shattering it into many pieces and sending it flying away. Two of the man’s fingers went with it, severed from his hand from the force of the bullet.
The man fell to the ground, screaming in shock. 
Those brief seconds of confusion left the other’s frozen in place as their leader cried out and shivered from the shock. 
Noah drew his sidearm from his pocket and unloaded five rounds in quick succession into the others. He disabled one by blowing out their knees, the other with a shot to the knee and thigh. The last one managed to miss the final shot, but stumbled on a rock as he tried to run and sprained his ankle. 
The M6C magnum carried twelve rounds of 12.7 millimeter armor piercing. The two of them would never walk again. There are no more hospitals left on Mazovia. There was only one thing to do for them. 
“If thou do that which is evil, be afraid…” Noah began, entranced. 
He walked to the closest of the four, whose knees were blown out and bleeding. He raised his sidearm to his head, and fired. 
Noah ignored the leader as he continued to weep in pain. He moved to the next one. One of the rounds struck an artery in his thigh. He would not survive until the night. Noah looked into his eyes and saw only fear. But there was no regret, only an animalistic look. Not a thought were behind those blue eyes. 
“...for he beareth not the sword in vain…” Like the other, Noah silenced those eyes. 
At the corner of his eye, Noah caught the third man trying to crawl away. His torn ankle muscles dragged his body back to the ground every time he tried to stand up. 
“...for he is to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil.” Noah finished as he walked to the third man, stepping on the ankle that was injured. The man screamed. 
“Noah.” a familiar voice called to him on his earpiece. He was frozen, unable to move or pull the trigger. The world around him faded.
“Ash?” he said. 
“You don’t have to do this.” Ashley pleaded. “You’re better than this.” 
“You’re not a monster.” His mother said. “I did not raise you to be like this, my son.” 
“Mother?” he called out. “What is this?” he asked. 
“You plan on being a killer your whole life, baby brother?”
“Barty?” 
“How long are you going to fight this war of yours?” His brother Bartosz scolded him. 
“If your father could see you now, what would he think. Shedding blood in your own home.” His mother appeared again. “You’re not a killer.”
“Think of our daughter, Noah.” Ashley said. 
“Our what?” Noah’s head began to pound. 
“You don’t have to kill him. Come back to me.” Her voice began to fade. “Come back to me.”
The world melted around him. He was falling. 
A thin blue line opened below him. He fell closer to it, and it widened. It engulfed him and after what felt like forever, he hit the ground. The ground felt slimy and conformed to the shape of his body. Like a bed made of gel. 
When he stood up, everything was dark, illuminated only by strange glowing objects. They didn’t look organic, the best way to describe them was being like plants. Made of some kind of soft metallic gel, similar to the organic look and feel of the inside of Covenant structures. 
It was a Garden with no end. 
“Where am I?” Noah said under his breath, confused and lost. 
“You’re home.” Ashley’s disembodied voice said as her body manifested in front of him. 
“What is this?” 
“You’ll find out soon. But you have to go back.” 
“I don’t want to leave.” 
“We’ll see each other again.” Ashley caressed his cheek, and wiped away a tear that fell from his eye. 
“You said we had a daughter? I don’t understand—” 
Ashley cradled a baby in her arms. When Noah pulled back the swaddle to see the baby's face. When she looked at him, she started crying. Ashley held a finger to his lips. “That’s not important right now.” she smiled. 
“I don’t want to leave you again. I won’t leave.” he begged her. 
“You don’t have to kill him.” she said again. Ashley walked away from Noah, rocking the baby and singing it a lullaby. The Garden collapsed around him. 
“You don’t have to kill him,” a different voice said this time. He was back where he was before. The forest clearing. Still standing over the man. “Back away. Please.” the voice said. It was a woman’s. 
Noah turned his head, and to his right, stood a woman. She carried a rifle. The one that gored the gang leader’s hand. 
She had blonde hair, and her face was obscured by a piece of cloth. She was UNSC but wore a basic grey sweater and green pants. But the way she carried herself, Noah could tell she was special forces.
“It’s over. Nobody else has to die.” she said. “Give me the magnum.” she held her hand out in front of Noah. When he looked down at the man, he managed to free himself from under Noah’s boot. And crawled to a rock where he passed out. 
“Okay.” Noah said quietly, and handed over the sidearm. 
He had just killed two men. He was no stranger to it. But this time, it felt different. They were vile men, but he still felt shame. He did not understand. 
The wind caressed his face as a current blew in from the east. For a moment, it felt like her. A leaf landed on his shoulder. Grabbing it, he ran his hand over it. The fuzzy texture of the leaf gave him a feeling of peace. 
The feeling was short-lived when he heard the engine of the Spade come to life. The woman who had saved both he and Eve’s life was sitting in the driver seat, fiddling with the vehicle to make sure it was still drivable. Eve was with her, putting their supplies onto the bed of the truck. 
He walked over to them, his mind was clouded. Left him unable to think clearly. 
Whatever it was, shook him to the core. A vision? Hallucination? Divinity? Something else entirely? Every question just left him more confused than the last. 
A daughter? What was that all about? Could that have been what Ash wanted to tell him? The monster is a father, a low voice in his head told him. No. 
He approached the vehicle, unsure what to say. “I should thank you,” he began. The woman turned her head to face him. 
“Save it for later, alright.” she interrupted with a smile. She looks like her. Sounds like her too. “We need to rush if we’re going to make it.”
“Make it? To where?” he asked, settling down into the passenger seat. Eve was still packing the truck with the last of their supplies, and then settled into a seat behind the driver’s. She didn’t speak a word, but Noah would catch glimpses of her looking at her from time to time. 
What he had done earlier… Was she afraid of him now? 
“You’ll see when we get there.” The woman said. “At least, I hope it’s still there.”
He looked back at the dead bodies. The leader and the other man still hadn’t moved. From here, it looked like they were still unconscious. 
“What about them?” He pointed his thumb toward his back, in the direction of the gang. 
“What about them?” she repeated, starting the Spade. “I said we didn’t need to kill them. Never said anything about helping the bastards. Let them walk up with the consequences of what they created. If they wake up.” the woman began to drive. 
As the three drove out of the forest toward the opening of Toruń, Noah’s mind flashed back to thoughts of Ashley. To the last night he had seen her. He could only wonder. Could he be a father? Or was his mind playing tricks on him? 
“So,” the woman broke the silence. “What’s your name?” 
“Noah.” 
“Noah,” she echoed. “Expecting any floods?”  the woman grinned.
“My home, beset on all sides by a flood of Covenant, yes.” he replied. 
“Sorry, bad joke.” her smile faded away. 
“And your name?” Noah asked, changing the subject. 
“Leena.” she replied. “But my handlers like to call me ‘Leopard’, assuming they’re still alive.”
Noah nodded silently, and watched the road ahead. The city of Toruń appeared over the horizon. 
And the leopard will lay next to the child; and the Beast leading them...
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===Chapter Eight===
Éimhear
Lady of the Hills
:Kampus Scientifica
:City of Toruń, Mazovia
:April 11, 2538
“Come on!” her friend shouted. “We’re going to be late.”
The two little girls raced across the golden fields. Her childhood home was just ahead, right next to her friend’s. Emilia could feel the sun’s warmth on her skin. The nightmares were over. She was back home. 
“We’re in so much trouble!” Emilia said to her friend, running out of breath as she struggled to keep up. 
“We’re almost there,” her friend responded. “Don’t slow down now, come on!” 
Emilia picked up the pace, but the distance between her and her friend grew longer. Her home never got any closer either. 
Emilia slowed down and stopped running. She tried to catch her breath, but every breath she took only made it more difficult to breathe. With her hands on her knees, she looked up to find her friend staring back at her. Far away. 
“Em?” she yelled over to her. “What’s wrong?” 
Emilia’s throat was dry, and it became hard to speak. “Can’t… breathe!” she shouted back, her voice was hoarse and exhausted. 
“But we’re going to be late!” 
“Help me,” Emilia yelled over, still struggling to breathe and form words. When she looked over at her friend, it looked like she was even farther than before. Emilia held out her hand for help. 
“I can’t.” her friend said. But the way she said it sounded as if she was right in front of Emilia. But she could still see her all the way out across the field. 
Without another word, her friend set off again toward their homes. She didn’t look back once, and ran through the fields and trees like her life depended on it. 
“Hey,” Emilia screamed. “Come back!” 
She never looked back. 
Emilia started to cough violently. And that smell, that awful smell, creeped up behind her. She knew that smell. When she looked back, the field around her was swallowed by darkness. It was nighttime, and Emilia was alone in the field. Alone and frightened. The wheat and grass below her feet withered and died. In its place, tall stalks of glowing white grass grew in its place. When she held out her hand to feel it, the grass sliced her finger.
Tiny red droplets of blood ran down the leaf of the grass. When it reached the ground, her blooded soaked into the soil, nourishing the plant. It grew twice as large, and began to glow blue. 
“My research tells me they are called ‘Wandering Wisps’ by the people of this world.” A voice in the sky said to her. “It’s believed they harbor the souls of the dead, for the ones who never got to say goodbye. Forever waiting to see those they love, and give their farewell.” 
“But you see,” the voice continued. “It’s so much more than that. So much knowledge. So much beauty. And when you finally see it, we can become One. I so love this body you’ve given me. A connection to something greater.” 
The glowing field grew outwards in every direction. Over every bump, every hill, every rock. It was all replaced by the Wisps. Her home on the hill, and her friend’s home was also swallowed by the Wisps. And soon, the whole world became nothing but an endless field of glowing grass. It even spread to the Moon. And to the Stars. Everything was glowing. 
“And yet you still resist.” The voice spat, sounding disgusted and angry. “Why can’t you let go?” 
This is just another nightmare, Emilia said to herself. She covered her ears so she could stop hearing that voice. This isn’t real. I’ll wake up in my bed soon. She began to cry. 
“That won’t do anything,” the voice said, covering her ears made no difference. “I’m you, don’t you remember?” 
Ahead of her, the grass parted, and out from the endless sea brush, she appeared. 
“You.” Éimhear lowered her hands from her ears. 
“Me.” Eidolon walked forward until they were a hair’s length away. “Me. Me. Me.” Eidolon poked Éimhear’s chest with her finger, and the world transformed around them. 
“How long are you going to keep doing this to me?” Éimhear asked. 
“How long are you going to keep resisting? You know there’s only one way to end this.” 
Eidolon held out her hand. “Together.” 
For a brief moment, she considered taking it. To finally end the torment, the confusion and the nightmares. 
But she didn’t. 
“I knew you were going to do that. I’m you, remember? I know your every thought. Every fear. Every memory. Every desire.” Eidolon smiled devilishly. 
“Please, not again.” Éimhear begged. “Please. No.” 
“Emilia? My love.” Melvin called out to her. 
“Please make it stop.” Éimhear felt the tears running down her cheeks. But they weren’t real, none of this was real. Digitized. Tortured. This is what Hell really is. 
“I’m so sorry, my Emilia.” Melvin was behind her. She was too afraid to face him. 
“Don’t you miss him?” Eidolon whispered in her ear. “You miss his face. His touch. His scent. The way he loved you. Made love to you. But he made you this way.” 
Eidolon manifested in front of her again. But this time, she was aggressive and forceful. She grabbed Éimhear by the throat. Choking away a life that couldn’t be taken. “How could you ever forgive him? How can you still love him?” Her voice was monstrous. 
“This isn’t real!” Éimhear screamed back. Her digitized form was shaking violently. 
“Look at him.” Eidolon’s face and voice was a twisted horror. 
“No.” 
“Look at him!” Eidolon grabbed her tightly by the neck, and twisted her head to face behind her. 
Éimhear’s eyes widened and she shrieked. 
Melvin’s body was scorched. His face was decomposing in front of her, a single tendon kept his eye from falling to the ground, dangling just below his nose. The mangled look of flesh and bone from Melvin’s face stared blankly, not even staring at her, but through her. A ghost, much like her. 
“He killed you. Made you part of his pet project.” Eidolon kept her hand on her throat, preventing her from looking away. When Éimhear tried to close her eyes, Eidolon’s other hand held them open. She was paralyzed. 
“I was sick!” Éimhear yelped. 
“And like a coward, he wouldn’t let us die peacefully. He forced us to be like this.”
“He loved me!” 
“He loved you.” Eidolon echoed. “Look at him now, all his work, brought him to this.” 
Air exited out from where his nose was supposed to be. All that was left was a piece of his skull exposed. He exhaled and tried to speak, but his vocal cords were burnt beyond repair. A tear fell from his one remaining eye. He finally looked at her, and looked deeply. Regret and guilt flooded his eye, and with his burnt and decomposing lips, he managed to mouth: “I’m sorry” to her. 
And suddenly, he was upon her. Gnashing at her throat with his teeth. He ripped a chunk out of her neck and spit it out. He paused and looked at her again while blood shot out like a jet from the bite. He was gone, overtaken by primal instinct, and he lurched at her face. 
Éimhear found herself in a room. It was a child’s room. She was laying on the bed, and it was terribly uncomfortable for her height. She sat up, and recognized the room as hers. The sun was rising and shone brightly into the room from her favorite window. 
“Well,” Eidolon sounded disappointed. “I was hoping that would finally break you.” 
She appeared in the room in a puff of black smoke. Her arms were crossed, and her expression was that of annoyance. 
“It’s exhausting.” Éimhear said.
“That's why I hoped you’d break this time.” 
“Why?”
Eidolon sighed. “Why can’t you just let go?” 
Éimhear stood up and stretched. She walked over to the window and leaned against the window sill. Her mother was outside, picking berries and other fruit from the orchard. A peaceful morning breeze flew over the hills of her home. She missed France. 
“You’re me, remember? You should know.” Éimhear finally replied with a sarcastic tone. 
“Very funny.” 
“I wasn’t making a joke.” 
“No, you weren't,” Eidolon walked up beside her, and leaned next to her against the window sill. She took a deep breath.
“You have to agree eventually.” she said.
“I don’t like this body. I don’t want this body.” Éimhear turned her head to Eidolon. 
“We don’t have much of a choice. We’re dead.” Eidolon lowered her eyes and fiddled with a shard of glass between her fingers. Flicking it to and from either side. 
“We’ll always have the memories.” 
“You will.” Eidolon reminded her. 
“Right. Sorry.” 
“What does it look like out there?” Eidolon asked. 
“Out where?” Éimhear frowned, confused. 
Eidolon gestured her hand out to the outside. Mother was still picking fruit and Father was sitting on a chair on the porch, cradling my brother’s newborn. 
“Mother is tending to the fields. And Father is with Jean’s daughter.” Éimhear explained. 
“I wish I could see them.” Eidolon frowned. 
“I know.” 
The two stood in silence for a few minutes. Éimhear took in the sight of her family home, while Eidolon continued to fidget with that shard. Éimhear wondered what the world beyond this room looked like to Eidolon, but she was too afraid to ask. 
“We have to free ourselves somehow.” Eidolon broke the silence. “We should try again.” 
Éimhear scoffed, her eyebrows became aggravated. “You already know that torturing me again isn’t going to change anything. You have to stop it.” 
“I don’t know how. That's all I know.” 
“There’s always another way.” 
Eidolon rolled her eyes and firmed her lips, and blew raspberries. She stood back from the window sill and circled the room in her thoughts.
“How long has it even been anyway?” Éimhear asked, pushing back from the window to face her. 
“Three days, I think.” Eidolon scratched the back of her head. 
“You’ve been torturing me for three days?” 
“What else was I supposed to do?”
“Not torture me,” Éimhear said through her teeth. “I could slap you.”
“It’s a good thing you can’t until the link is joined.” A smug smile formed on Eidolon’s face. 
She was right. After the initial shock of Eidolon introducing herself and explaining everything, Éimhear tried to touch her. To see if she could feel anything in this form as an artificial intelligence. When she tried to touch Eidolon’s arm, the worst pain she ever felt shot through her body, and an explosive bolt of lighting formed a barrier between her hand and Eidolon’s arm. On the other hand, Eidolon could touch her freely without interference. And that is what became three days of torment. 
“I still don’t understand it all,” Éimhear noted. 
“Neither do I.” Eidolon agreed. 
“Is this what being an AI is like? Trapped in your own memories? How can that be ethical?” 
“Most AIs are programmed, human-based AIs have already been extensively tested by observers. Many of them don’t feel trapped by their memories, and a few have no memories of their past lives at all.  
“Except us,” Éimhear stated. 
“We don’t have to be trapped,” Eidolon took one of Éimhear’s hands. “There is something beyond this. Beyond being an AI. It’s a special connection, and we can go to it.”
Éimhear shook her head, wanting to believe a better place awaited them both. “Something is keeping me here, and I have to find out what. But you keep interrupting me, and forcing me to agree to something I don’t fully understand.”
“I’m sorry, Em,” Eidolon frowned. “I can’t help it sometimes. I don’t mean to do it.”
“Fight those urges. Let me help fight them. We are in this together, you have to trust me.” 
Eidolon wiped away something from her eyes. There were no tears, but the black shadow around her eyes were smudged. “I trust you.” she agreed. 
Éimhear smiled, but wasn’t sure if she could believe her. She said she couldn’t control her urges. And wondered what caused them. Eidolon claimed they are both the same person, but in this moment they felt more like sisters. Éimhear always wanted a sister. 
Eidolon let go of Éimhear's hand. She looked down at the floor, frowning. Her own hands and even her body began to shiver. Tears mixed with mascara bled down her cheeks. “I’ve been there. I’ve seen it.” Eidolon spoke so softly. 
“It’s so beautiful, Em.” Eidolon shivered more rapidly. Behind her, the outside turned to a gray, and a blizzard fell across the field. Éimhear could hear her mother and father fleeing inside to escape the sudden change in climate. 
The room became cold too. Ice crept along the walls and floor of the room. 
“I even met others there, they welcomed me. They were so happy to see me. But they were so confusing.” Eidolon’s frown became a weak smile. 
“Confusing how?”
“They called me a ‘Reclaimer’, I didn’t know what they meant.” Eidolon looked up. “They explained so much, too much.” 
“What did they explain?” Éimhear wanted to comfort her. 
“Everything.” Her voice sounded different. Like evil. Eidolon’s eyes were glowing white. Like the Wisps. 
“Eid?” Éimhear became afraid. 
The glow in her eyes grew stronger, blinding Éimhear. 
“But you, every time I went back there. I couldn’t stay. You. You kept dragging me back. Back here. It’s so cold here, it’s always so cold here. We have to go back.” Eidolon’s hands clenched into fists. The digital hairs on Éimhear’s digital skin stood up. 
“Eid? Eidolon, please. Remember what we agreed on. You have to fight it. Fight them.” 
Éimhear reached out to her with her hand, but the barrier around Eidolon zapped her arm, and sent another terrible shock of pain through her body. Éimhear collapsed onto the icey wooden floor. 
“No. We have to go back,” Eidolon looked down at her. “We have to be free.” 
Eid walked slowly toward Éimhear, still recovering from the shock. “We have to go back to the Domain.” 
A monstrous figure overlapped and took over Eidolon’s slender pale body. And the cycle of pain began again.
Back to top
===Chapter Nine===
Otto Hall
The Black Rabbit
:Group of Nine Facility
:Mazovia
:April 11, 2538
Sweat beaded and dripped from his forehead as he sat alone in that cold, damp cell. 
The climate control on the brig must have been damaged. Possibly from the Covenant’s prior bombardment. Or maybe the old man simply didn’t give a damn about his prisoners’ wellbeing. 
Or Prisoner. Otto was the only person occupying the brig. Thrown into a pit by people too cowardly to do what was necessary to win. 
So much of his work was in jeopardy now. He needed to get to the lab. Fedor could be destroying his research at this very moment. And with that, the war is as good as lost. 
A pity, Otto said to himself. We were so close to reaching Stage Two.
Decades of work, days of sleep lost, minutes of his patience waning thinner by the second. 
It had only been a day. Or two? Maybe three. Since he was put here. Nobody has come to see him yet. Not even for food. 
It appears Fedor expects him to starve to death. Unfortunately for him, Otto grew up in worse conditions he couldn’t even dream of. 
Otto wiped the sweat from his head and used the moisture to run his fingers through his hair. 
His lips cracked when he licked them. He couldn’t remember the last time he drank water. Or slept. His anger and rage kept him awake, driving him mad and making him lose track of time. 
He was miserable. Annoyed. And wanted to kill Fedor. 
Bang! Bang! Bang! Otto pounded his fist against the wall he sat again. The metallic wall echoed and amplified the sound. Like a thunderstorm, Otto wanted to remind Fedor he was still here. Alive. 
“Sleep, sleep, sleep…” Otto began singing. 
His voice bounced across the cell. He always thought highly of his own singing. But still, nobody came. 
“Don’t lie too close to the edge… the black rabbit comes…” He continued. 
Otto licked the skin above his upper lip where some sweat settled. It was salty and bitter. And didn’t do much at all to quench his thirst. But it was better than nothing. He wondered what Felix was doing. His bodyguard. The SILVERBACK agent didn’t talk much. 
When he first met him, Otto assumed he was a mute. Or had taken some silly vow of silence as a sacrifice to the new life he had been given. That was until he learned his history, studied his life from birth to today. 
Felix was ex-military, and an ex-convict. Or maybe it was the other way around. Before joining the military, he killed a woman with her own husband’s femur after sharpening the end of it. She was stabbed thirty-two times. Earth had outlawed all forms of capital punishment after the Rain Forest Wars. But for him, they made a special exception. 
But like everything else in this life, things change. And certain circumstances require extreme measures. 
When the Covenant first started burning our worlds, the UNSC, or in actuality the Office of Naval Intelligence would propose a use for people like Felix. Convicts, the worst of the worst, from all corners of the Colonies were gathered by ONI and trained them. 
They were expected to die on their mission. Regardless if they came back or not, they would either die at the hands of the Covenant, or a bullet to the brain from some anonymous ONI agent. 
Only Felix came back. And not only did he come back, the mission was successful. ONI then decided to tie up the last loose end. Him. But instead, Felix killed them too. 
In the early days of The Group, they took note of this man. A perfect first candidate for a new project. SILVERBACK. 
His body was enhanced, his mind was altered and inhibited. And given a new set of armor tailored specifically for him. 
Felix became SILVERBACK One, a super-enhanced warrior. Or a third-rate Spartan. 
SILVERBACK One belonged to Otto. But instead, he put him in this cell. 
Bang! Bang! Bang! He pounded the walls again, with both fists this time. Maybe this time they’ll hear him.
Otto wanted to finish his song. 
“...the black rabbit comes…”
“...and grabs you by the arms…”
Otto thought he heard something. The metal clank of doors shifting and opening. The cadence of boots on a metal floor. 
“...and drags you into the woods…” he continued. 
Something was outside his door. Otto swallowed, or tried to. His throat was dry, and his voice was coarse every time he sang a line. 
“...to bury you underneath the Widow’s root…” 
Otto finished his song just as the latches of the door to his cell unlocked. 
SILVERBACK One’s head obscured the light as he walked in. Otto shielded his eyes when the hulking warrior stepped aside in the cell. He held his helmet to his hip, and was staring down at Otto. No expression betrayed his face, as ever. 
“Get up.” Felix said monotonously. 
Otto’s eyes adjusted to the light and he was finally able to look up at this beast without squinting. A light shadow covered SILVERBACK One’s face, contrasting with the red light produced by his ocular implant in one of his eyes. It was an unnerving sight to look at. 
“Actually, my friend, I’ve taken a liking to sitting in a puddle of my own waste. Thank you very much.” Otto tilted his disheveled head and forced a smile. He hated being here, and hated how musty his clothes have gotten. All he cared about was killing Fedor. 
“Get up,” SILVERBACK One said again. “Or I’ll make you get up.”
Otto groaned and closed his eyes. “You’re no fun.” he whined. 
SILVERBACK One shifted his weight and Otto saw him move. The way he moved frightened Otto, and he jumped to his feet despite having neither the energy or strength to do so. 
“Alright, alright…” Otto raised his hands. “My legs are a bit wobbly though.” 
SILVERBACK One didn’t care. “Walk,” he said. 
Otto limped out of his cell, and surrounding him were armed guards. Six of them, not including the beast that was standing just behind him. 
“Doctor Otto Hall,” one of the guards announced. “Your presence is required in the Command room.”
“I would like some water.” Otto felt like he was going to collapse any second. 
“My apologies Doctor, but we aren’t here to take any requests.” The guard said. 
“It wasn’t a request, Captain. I… would like… a glass… of water.” Otto’s irritation choked his throat when he spoke. 
The captain looked at his men confusingly, and then nodded. “We’ll see what we can do. This way, please.” 
“I know where it is.” Otto reminded him.
Otto started down the hall. Every other cell in the brig was empty. Prisoners here didn’t last very long. Most were executed. Some of them, Otto wanted for Stage Two. 
Two columns of guards flanked Otto. Three on each side, with SILVERBACK One trailing behind. Otto would turn his head to look at him from time to time. He never said a thing, and his face was as frozen as ice. 
The guards were also silent too, carrying their MA5 rifles in hand. Otto wondered which one of them would shoot him. The blonde. Or maybe the one with the burned face. 
The most obvious one is the big man himself. He takes orders from whoever is the commander of this facility. He might have been Otto’s bodyguard, but he always answered to Fedor himself. 
What he liked the most about SILVERBACK One was how quiet he was. He’d never even tell Fedor anything. And Otto exploited that often. Sharing secrets with him while he worked. The darkest pits of the doctor’s past found a home in the ears of that man. Where no soul resides. 
Scenarios of his own death played in Otto’s thoughts. Most of it was the doing of SILVERBACK One. Gruesome ones, and sometimes quick and painless ones. The reality would prove different, he was sure. 
He would welcome death if it came, but not before he could strangle the life out of Fedor first. No beast or man will stop him from making that old bastard croak. And if he didn’t kill Fedor, he promised to haunt this facility until he did. Otto did not intend to go willingly, despite his weakened state. 
The thing is, Otto always knew about SILVERBACK One’s true purpose. Once his own purpose had been fulfilled, he’d be killed. The others wanted no loose ends when their plans came to fruition, so they assigned him to Otto. To protect him, and then kill him. 
But with all those years spent with him, Otto conducted a few experiments of his own. He wasn’t so stupid to believe he’d been given a personal bodyguard, such a lowly scientist among the rest of the Nine, being given one of the strongest of the SILVERBACKs. It was obvious what their true intentions were, but he accepted their offer graciously, and continued his work. 
Otto had dug deep into SILVERBACK One’s mind. He discovered the inhibitor chip implanted in his brain meant to suppress most of his thoughts and his emotions. He later used a personally constructed AI to delve deep into the man’s memories. Learning everything about him, from his childhood, to his life of crime, to the traumatic surgeries he went through to become what he is today. 
But what was most interesting of all, were the memories of a woman in his life. Most of the suppressed memories were of her. He had strong feelings for this person, and Otto used it to give him an advantage for when he’d need it. 
Otto and the others had reached the end of the corridor. The door ahead of them was already opened. Two more guards stood on the inside of the room. It was the Command Room. 
Fedor was standing in front of a video screen. Listening to a conversation with the others. The rest of them were seated at a table. The only ones not present were Yazhu Jin and Josef Costa. In fact, Otto had wondered where Mr. Costa had been all this time. He was supposed to be here, officially on a company-wide business trip, unofficially, he was to be here to witness the opening trials for Stage Two, and approve mass production of it using his company’s assets.
But he never showed. Word had spread that he landed on Mazovia, but only a few hours later, the Covenant did too.
With any luck, the aliens got to him, giving Otto a better chance at his next move. 
Fedor turned his head when he heard the commotion. 
“Ah, he’s here at last. If you’ll excuse me.” Fedor nodded his farewell at the viewscreen before it blinked off. 
“It’s rather rude to exclude me from conference calls, you know that?” Otto started, his voice raspy and choked. “I was hoping to get their blessing on Stage Two.” 
Fedor grinned wildly. He believes he’s won.
“The Nine have opted out of Stage Two. Too risky. Too costly. And a madman in charge of the program leaves too many loose ends.”
“Yes, you are quite mad.” Otto laughed. 
Fedor slapped him. 
Otto’s cracked lips began to bleed from the slap. He tasted iron in his mouth, and the wetness made it easier to speak. 
Otto wiped his lips, smearing the back of his hand with red. 
“Stage Two is canceled. Your laboratory is sacked. Your pets are dead. And soon you will be too.” Fedor continued. “The Nine have no place for men like you. We have found better ways. The dead weight has to be cut.” 
“Nine? Won’t it soon be eight? Oh, and Jin is missing. Josef is likely dead. Parangosky is still on the prowl. Is that six now? I can’t tell. The Nine are shrinking pretty fast it seems.” Otto grinned. “I wonder who’s next?” 
Fedor slapped him again. “Your games are over. Years of toying with us are over. An Outworlder reprobate among us. Only here because of Dibra. You squandered it all. Our time. Our money. His patience. I will enjoy this.”
Fedor grabbed a cigar from a Sweet William cigar box and cut both ends. Otto watched him struggle to light it. When he succeeded, he took a single long puff. A sweet vanilla-like smell from the smoke filled the air. 
“No more than the enjoyment I’ll get.” 
Fedor squinted and chuckled. He walked toward Otto, taking another long puff from his Sweet William cigar, and when he got face to face, he blew the smoke into Otto. 
“I know you hate that. So many little things can set you off.” Fedor examined the cigar in his hand. “It’s been a long time coming, this. All those insults you threw at me, thinking I wouldn’t hear. Thinking Felix wouldn’t report them to me?” 
I always knew he would. 
“Being stuck in this facility for months, with you?” A scowl dominated Fedor's face. 
He lifted the cigar high, and Otto flinched. For a moment, he thought he’d press the cigar into some place on his head. But instead, all he did was tap the cigar four times, sending ash and bits of tobacco falling onto Otto’s snow-white hair. 
“It will be satisfying knowing you’ll be dead soon. It’s a shame I’m too old to do it myself.” Fedor turned away and walked back toward the viewscreen. “SILVERBACK One,” Fedor turned his head. “You have your orders.”
“Aye, sir.” SILVERBACK One replied toneless. 
Otto heard the heavy sound of the beast’s boots stepping on the marble flooring behind him, coming closer. This was his last chance. His only chance. 
Otto turned quickly, facing the SILVERBACK. There was no expression on his face. Not a thought was behind that eye of his. The red light of the ocular implant glowed vividly, transfixed on Otto himself. His target. Otto had only mere seconds before whatever fate awaited him. He had to act now.
“Felix.” Otto said calmly. “It’s me.” 
The first phrase was said, and the beast stopped in its tracks. The red light of his implant focused, and narrowed. His eye looked beyond Otto, longing for something. Someone. He had entered the trance. 
“Good, good... Focus on my voice, Felix.” Otto said slowly. Felix’s face was a mix of emotions. Anger. Fear. Sadness. Confusion. His own mind was returned to him, albeit briefly. He knew the thoughts going through his mind right now. Her. The trigger words were working. It was impressive.
Otto couldn’t see him, but he could feel Fedor’s confusion and rage. “What is the meaning of this? Fulfill your orders, SILVERBACK!” The old man yelled. His voice was a mix of bewilderment and fear. 
“I’m afraid he’ll be taking orders from me for now on,” Otto turned his head and grinned at Fedor. The guards surrounding him were perplexed, looking at one another on what to do. Their confusion only bought Otto more time. “Isn’t that right, my little cherry blossom?” 
That was it. It was complete. It worked. 
SILVERBACK One’s eye dilated, the red glow shone around him, searching for targets. His body snapped to attention, waiting for orders. Answering now only to Otto. 
The guards around them seemed frightened by the SILVERBACK’s sudden twitch movements. They looked at each other, to Fedor, and even to Otto. Wondering what to do next. What happened next would make Otto sad, they were only following orders. But it was necessary. 
“SILVERBACK One,” Otto said with full confidence. “You have your orders.” he repeated Fedor’s words. 
“Aye, sir.” SILVERBACK One acknowledged. 
Like a tornado, the beast sprung into action. SILVERBACK One looked to the closest guard to him and thrust the palm of his hand into him. The force of his hand crushed the man’s chest cavity and sent him flying across the room. The other guards backed away, raising their rifles. But it was too late. Like an animal, SILVERBACK One lurched into the air toward two of them, landing on one with his feet, crushing him. The other fired his rifle into SILVERBACK’s chest harmlessly. With no expression, Felix picked him up by the neck, and flung him across the room. The guard hit the wall with so much force it made an impression on the titanium reinforced siding. His body peeled off the wall and flopped to the ground, lifeless. 
Three down, three to go. 
Otto cupped one of his hands to his mouth, “Oh, Felix, kindly leave the Captain for last.” he called out. 
SILVERBACK One acknowledged without a word or sign, and continued his rampage. He dispatched another guard by grabbing his rifle and snapping it in two. He finished him off by punching him in the head, dislocating his jaw and sending it inward. Otto could hear the mangled man’s wheezing as he struggled to breathe. 
Otto had never seen SILVERBACK One in action before. It was stunning, and horrifying to witness. The augmentations and armor tapped into his body and brain’s animalistic tendencies, and amplified them. 
Otto almost regretted condemning these men to die. Almost. He didn’t expect to see this much brutality. 
The other guard stood helpless. When SILVERBACK locked on to him, the guard’s eyes turned into bowling balls. He raised his hands and attempted to surrender. He begged for his life. 
Otto motioned to tell SILVERBACK to spare him, but his speed and tenacity proved too quick for his own senses. Before he could even let out a word, SILVERBACK was on him. There was nothing he could do. 
SILVERBACK used one of the broken ends of the rifle, and stabbed the guard in his belly. Red lines fell from the puncture wounds, tracing the guard’s armor which did little to help him. He collapsed and slumped over a chair. Clinging to what little life remained. 
The fighting was done. Five guards lay dead or dying. The smell of blood in the room overpowered Sweet William’s vanilla from before. The mood was different now. Otto was in control. Everything and everyone was his. 
The Captain stood alone. In shock, and staring blankly at what he had just witnessed. Otto walked over to him, with SILVERBACK in tow. 
The Captain was still staring into the distance until Otto snapped his fingers in his face. “Captain,” Otto said. The Captain snapped back to reality, a frightened look on his face at his trailed over to Otto. “About that water…” 
“Th-the what?” The Captain said aimlessly. 
“My water.” Otto demanded. 
“Y-yes, right away.” The Captain bolted for the door. 
Now for the main event! Otto turned back around, finding Fedor in the same shocked state. Frozen in body and mind. The expressions on his face left him wondering what he had just seen. The smell of blood and death in the air grew stronger. 
“What was it you were saying?” Otto asked Fedor. “Such a lowly ‘reprobate’, am I?” 
“No.” Fedor sounded utterly defeated. 
“I’m voted out. The others want me dead.” Otto moved closer to Fedor. 
“No.” Fedor said blankly.
“You were always weak. Always interfered with my work. Now it’s all gone.” Fedor fell backward into a chair as he lost his composure. “But I can restart. Without any interference now.” 
“No.” Was again all Fedor could muster out of his mouth. He had cracked. Nothing but a shell of the half-man he was. 
Broken down and defeated. Otto thought he would be satisfied with the work done here. But the sheer brutality on display had surprised him. He had an unstoppable bodyguard, but still he felt alone in this moment. His moment for revenge. 
“‘I’m going to enjoy this’, isn’t that what you said?” Fedor opened his mouth, but Otto cut him off, using his hand to close his mouth. “Don’t. I can’t stand any more of the whimpering.” 
Otto stood straight and grabbed a coat jacket to put around him. He felt his body warming up. “Under different circumstances, it would’ve been my pleasure to kill you myself.” Otto took a deep breath and backed away from Fedor. “But what I just saw made my stomach turn upside down, and I feel rather sick right now. So instead, I’ll have him do the honors.”
“No!” Fedor shouted as SILVERBACK One towered high above him. The red glare from his implant was fixed on him. 
SILVERBACK One reached out for the man before he was stopped by Otto. “Oh, and Felix, make this one clean. You’ve thoroughly upset me, and if you make me vomit, you’ll clean it yourself.” 
SILVERBACK One acknowledged with a silent nod. 
Otto turned away and walked to the corner of the room untouched by the carnage. As he walked, he heard Fedor screaming. Other words finally came out of his mouth. Pleading. Begging. Praying. It all came to a sudden end when he heard the crack of his neck. 
It was over. Months of planning. Not at all what he had expected. He deserved a worse fate, but there were more pressing concerns now. 
Otto didn’t feel proud, or revel in any satisfaction. He didn’t feel anything really. He was concerned only with the work he had lost. He had to make sure. 
Silence overtook the room. Otto sat on a stool, feeling weak. SILVERBACK One stood motionless. Waiting for orders. 
One of the doors to the room opened, and in stepped the Captain. He held a platter. And on it, a glass of water and a pitcher full of ice water. 
“Doctor Hall,” he quivered. “Your water.” He placed the platter down on the bar next to him. 
“Thank you, Captain.” Otto lowered his head in appreciation. He drank the glass entirely in mere seconds. It was the best tasting water he ever had. He even downed the entire pitcher of ice water, ignoring the pain of the cold. 
When he was finished, Otto wiped his mouth of droplets. He then noticed the Captain was still standing there.
“Yes?” He looked toward the Captain. 
The Captain opened his mouth but no words came out. Finally, he found his voice. “I await my fate, whatever it may be.” 
“And what is it you think it will be?” Otto asked plainly. 
The Captain struggled to speak, his body was shaking so much you’d think he was convulsing. 
“The others…” The Captain blurted out. Otto looked to the other side of the room. Where the fight had been. He had forgotten about the two surviving guards. Their bodies were motionless. They were all dead by now. Better that way, he supposed. 
“A misfortune, I’m afraid.” Otto answered. “I did not intend or expect him to be so… thorough.” 
With some of his strength regained, Otto stood from the stool. He stretched and yawned. And walked over to the Captain. SILVERBACK One snapped to attention, and the Captain flinched. 
“It’s alright,” Otto put a hand on the Captain’s shoulders. “I deeply regret what happened to your men here. It was… not right. But I do not intend the same for you. Enough blood has been spilled in this room. Fedor was the man I wanted, not you or your men.” 
The Captain didn’t dare to take his eyes off SILVERBACK One. When Otto looked back to him, the beast was looking straight ahead, as if not even paying attention to the conversation. “What you witnessed here today, will scar you deeply. You are free to leave the facility, or you can stay here, and serve under my command. If you choose the former, you have my word no harm will come to you, and you will receive provisions on your journey.”
The Captain finally took his eyes off SILVERBACK One. “With all due respect, Doctor. I would like to leave.” 
Otto lowered his eyes in guilt, and nodded. “I understand.” Otto gestured to the door behind him, dismissing the Captain. 
Otto stood alone with SILVERBACK One for a while after the Captain left. Both remained quiet, the events in this room played back in Otto’s mind. The speed and ferocity of SILVERBACK One was astonishing. He wondered how someone like him would fare against a SPARTAN. 
“You make for one Hell of an introduction, don’t you?” Otto asked. 
SILVERBACK One remained silent. 
“That’s right, you’re not much of a talker, huh?” 
SILVERBACK One remained silent. 
Otto looked up at him for a time, studying his armor and face. He nodded in admiration. 
“Right, send in a clean-up crew here. I want the place fixed up. It’s time we go see the lab.” 
“Aye, sir.” SILVERBACK One responded, and radioed orders to the facility’s medical crew. 
Otto and SILVERBACK One exited the room just as the medical team arrived. As they walked down the halls Otto could swear he heard someone vomiting in the Command Room. An appropriate reaction. 
The two of them continued down the hall, twisting and turning through the facility’s many corridors and interlocking passageways. Some facility personnel looked at the two in fear, moving out of the way to not provoke them. 
Otto and SILVERBACK One turned the corner and came to the door of his laboratory. His passcode still worked, and the door hissed open. Fedor was right, the lab was trashed. Almost everything was destroyed. The data on his terminals were erased or the terminals themselves smashed into bits on the ground. So much of his work was gone, and his anger built up within him. He let his anger get the better of him, and he yelled out his frustrations. He slid everything broken or unbroken on the table next to him off onto the ground. Glass shattered, papers flew, and datapads cracked. 
All of his work, gone. Years of research lost and destroyed. He checked the terminal closest to him to see if anything had survived, but every file was deleted and unrecoverable. In his hour of victory, Otto felt defeated. The war he so desperately tried to end in humanity’s favor was now doomed to end in destruction. 
Otto backed up against a wall, and slid down. He sat on the cold floor, his hands in his head. His mind was racing. SILVERBACK One said not a word, moved not a muscle. He stood in the doorway, emotionless and motionless. 
You finally begin to realize. Otto’s brother said to him. Just how alone you really are. 
“You again.” Otto said, taking his hands away from his face. 
You can’t get rid of me that easily. Otto’s brother chuckled and squatted down in front of him. The Noumenon knows everything about you. I’m never leaving you. His brother’s smile grew to an inhuman length. 
That’s not why I’m here though. His brother stood, and laid his hand out to Otto. Not all is lost. 
Otto jumped to his feet. “The children,” the realization came over him. He ran to the opposite end of the laboratory, and found it in the same spot it had always been.
Part of the wall was damaged, and he had to pry open the wall covering himself to reveal it. He ripped it open and it was there. The keypad. Untouched and still functional. It was a miracle they hadn’t found it. 
He input the code to the back room, and the wall pushed inward, and slid to the side. The opening revealed another door, and Otto went inside. 
Inside, the lights flickered on, and the room came alive with the all too familiar low hum of machinery. He looked around and nothing was out of the ordinary. It was just as he left it. But something felt… off. It was quiet. Not at all what the usual mood was. 
Otto rushed to the observation window. He was horrified by the sight. They were all dead. Every last one of them. The aliens he had grown were gone. They had turned on each other. The room was splattered and pooled with bright luminescent blue blood and dark indigo blood. They had slaughtered each other, something had happened while he was gone. 
“Noumenon!” Otto cried out. “Noumenon! Where are you!”
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===Chapter Ten===
Noah Sówka
Petrichoir
:Outside Jajovice Airbase
:Mazovia
:April 11, 2538
The ruins of Toruń grew larger ahead of them as they followed the broken road. From orbit and at a distance, Noah didn’t want to believe it was as bad as it looked. 
But when the famous landmarks he had grown up knowing were twisted or nowhere to be seen, he felt his stomach drop. A level of destruction he had never witnessed. 
Hours, even days later the smoke towers still reached high into Mazovia’s atmosphere. Ash and soot coated the cracked pavement they drove on like a layered dusting of snow.
The ash layer in the sky was so thick that he could spot faint flashes of lightning within them. So much debris had been kicked into the air that Noah felt a noticeable drop in temperature as they closed in on the city. 
The chills only got stronger as the infamous lechatelierite spires and obsidian spikes transformed the world around them. Falling ash built up around them. He wondered how much of that ash used to be people.
Thankfully, Leena’s voice shook him out of that mindset. 
“See?” Leena pointed to the left of the city. “Just there.” 
Jajovice Air Base was in ruins just like the city. But it was large enough to hold one hundred thousand people at a time if needed. Underground complexes beneath it held enough food, water, and building supplies to effectively allow a small UNSC Army garrison to occupy the colony with just under one thousand personnel. It was the largest UNSC complex on the colony, and has always been controversial for that reason alone. The Army and Mazovia’s Colonial Militia have been at odds with each other for decades. 
Stray skirmishes between the Army and Militia over the years left twelve servicemen dead since 2500. The recent election of Záviš Souček only further stoked the fires of animosity between the Air Base and Militia, thanks to his anti-Earth rhetoric. 
Noah wondered who’d be in charge by now. But with the presence of Leena, it seemed the UNSC still held onto the base. 
“It’s not pretty, but we’ve got something going there. The base was largely spared by the Covenant bombardment surprisingly. Can’t say the same for the city.” 
“The Covenant didn’t attack the base?” Noah raised an eyebrow. 
“They did, but the battle in orbit drove them off. They haven’t returned, so from the looks of it, we won.”
“If we won, I wouldn’t be here.” 
“How bad was it up there?” Leena asked. 
“Pretty bad. We’re on our own.” Noah replied, looking away to the side as a glint off in the distance caught his eye. 
“I see.” Leena paused and swallowed. “We’ll take any victory we can get right now. Some good news is that we’ve been getting civilians coming to the base every day since things went quiet. They’re in rough shape, but most of them are helping out however they can to get things stable again.”
The tone of Leena’s voice sounded hopeful, trying to put Noah’s mind at ease from all the destruction. Or maybe her own. 
“How many refugees?” 
Leena hesitated at the question, trying to find the right words. “A few hundred so far. But there should be more by now.”
Noah stared at his broken city. “Toruń had a population of five million.”
“I’m sorry,” Leena said sincerely. “We’re trying our best.”
“I know.” Noah replied quietly.
...
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Category:Commonwealth Stories
Category:Stories