Changes: Halo: Lonely Frontier

Revision as of 02:45, 21 February 2020

This fanfiction article, Halo: Lonely Frontier, was written by Distant Tide. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission.

"Cortana's Created faction is on the march, beginning to bend the galaxy to their whim. And yet, in remote corners of the galaxy, life continues unabated. For one lost Spartan, it means finding his way home and to trust in questionable companions. For another lost Spartan, the first step to being her own person is not knowing the way forward."

Dramatis Personae

Protagonists

Supporting Cast

Halo: Lonely Frontier

Chapter One: Runit Dome I

Merlin

0612 Hours, 28 October 2558

UNSC Corvette Black Caviar

Wealthian Territory, Joint-Occupation Zone

Merlin-D032 slowly tilted his neck to examine the blackness of space for objects of interest: stars, rocks, or anything along those lines. The small window slits of his combat insertion pod complicated the dully-inspired activity. Unsatisfied with the micro-asteroids and endless darkness, he laid his helmeted head against his shock-absorption chair and stared at the ceiling.

The Spartan grumbled to himself out of boredom, the innumerable sequel to many more grumbles in the minutes past. He experimentally lifted his left boot heel into the air and planted it back down with a solid, metallic clank against the floor of his pod. The hollow noise reverberated through the titanium, disappearing into an unseen distance before zooming back into Merlin's ears through his suit's audio suite.

He smirked at that, satisfied with the rebounding echo. He bounced his knee rapidly – repeating the low-effort exercise. His thigh muscle became a hammer, pounding away at the ground to some antiquated tune he heard on the radio somewhere in the rural American Midwest.

He considered what others outside were hearing, maybe it sounded like a furious woodpecker pounding into a tree. Or maybe, it sounded like meteoroids bouncing harmlessly off the side of their starship. Maybe it sounded like a man beating a starship bulkhead with a hammer. The silence of contemplation lasted a third way through Merlin's antiquated beat, one he did not know the name of, before a sweet-sounding female voice spoke in his ear, stealing his full attention.

"Merlin?" The girl's voice asked.

"Yeah?"

"You hear that sound?"

Merlin paused in his foot-stomping as a certain heat rose to his ears and cheeks. He smiled wistfully at the ceiling, imagining the female Spartan's blue eyes looking back at him in mild amusement.

"Yeah. I do."

"That's you right? Making that noise?"

"Yep…"

A silent second passed between the two Spartans.

Two loud drum-like thumps crackled from somewhere outside Merlin's insertion pod; it was hard to identify the distance, but he knew it was right next door. To his ears, it sounded like someone hitting a giant Chinese gong with a mallet in rapid succession.

"Was that you?" Merlin asked across the radio to his friend.

She responded with a simple "Ow."

"Really? That hurt you?"

"Nope," she started, "Just a little surprised by how much you can feel through armor."

"Doing what?" Merlin's face contorted in concerned interest.

"Punching titanium."

"Well," he blinked to himself before quirking one side of his lips into a half-grin. "That's a strange thing to do."

There was a small laugh on the radio's other end, a cute one, that transformed Merlin's half-grin into a toothy smile as he joined in, chuckling in their united sense of humor. He felt his lungs give a few tugs as under-used muscles vibrated in a giddy motion as if pleased to have a purpose again.

"Alright, composure please." A soft-voiced ONI mission handler, Lieutenant Commander Vilda Stenbeck, cut through the cheerful noise.

The Spartans' laughter cooled as their superior officer finally got down to something of substance and value. "Spartans. Let's quickly summarize the mission brief one last time, so we're clear on everything. What's the mission?"

The female Spartan, Andra-D054, spoke up. "The mission is Operation: RUNIT DOME. Our target is a deep-space facility believed to be operated by elements of the Wealthian Coalition insurgent group."

"They're a self-sufficient state. They're too big to be called a simple terror group," Stenbeck corrected before moving on to the next bullet point. "Merlin, the reason we're here?"

"We're here to investigate reports of a superweapon, one with supposed 'magical properties'. If so, we're here to shut it down. If not, we're here still to shut them down."

"Close enough. Rumors claim these Insurrectionists got a hold of some alien technology with the ability to evaporate objects from existence. Matter and all. Our mission is to assess that possibility."

"Back into action," Merlin remarked, directing his concern toward Andra. "You ready for this?"

A short pause followed by a sigh. "Yep."

"Alright, remember that you two make up this operation's Phase One. What are the insertion method and rules of engagement?"

"Andra and I will approach the facility using SOEIV insertion pods. The station is a bunker constructed from quick-assembly modules embedded partially into the side of an asteroid. The asteroid is about 3.4 kilometers in diameter and the station itself is around five hundred meters. We'll be up against point-defense ship-grade weaponry when we get close. That's based on the combat environment and the schematics of similar bases we looked over."

"And?" The handler asked. Merlin imagined her performing a kind of 'continue' hand gesture.

"The Black Caviar will employ coilguns and gravity plates to direct space rocks along our flight path to provide the SOEIVs some cover. We'll break through the structural defenses and report back successful landing, from there we'll see our part of the mission through."

Pitching in, Andra picked up where Merlin left off. "Rules of engagement are following standard operating procedure and conduct. Deadly force against all hostile forces is authorized, however, prioritizing the securement and safety of computer terminals and research personnel is paramount. Steps to Phase One include successful insertion, securement, and isolation of necessary facility modules, capture and control of the enemy command center and all control functions. All in lead up to the Caviar's docking."

"Alright, sounds good. No further review," Stenbeck sighed over the radio connection, "I will admit when you two were assigned to this mission, I didn't have that much confidence in a couple of wet-behind-the-ears Spartans. Still, DAEDALUS spoke highly of you two – I think his confidence is well-placed given the work you've put into mission planning."

"Thank you," Andra responded curtly, finding nothing more to say to the ONI officer. Merlin, on the other hand, picked up on something amiss.

"Wait, did you say, 'you two', Merlin narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Did he actually say that?"

There was a short pause between the Spartans and the ONI officer as the question was processed. Andra broke first, cackling in a very rare fit of laughter.

The officer sighed again, her voice coming through as higher-pitched and a little exasperated. "Well, no. He said Andra was great then called you two 'a reliable team'. He barely mentioned you; I was trying to be considerate."

Andra's laughter subsided into a humorous sigh. "Joshua hates his guts."

"That has to be the nicest thing he's said about me," Merlin grumbled and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry about being considerate, we have an understanding."

A silence fell over the radio link, evidently, what needed to be said had been said.

"Alright. Radio silence will be going into effect with exception to waypoint callouts. There's a chance your communications will be blocked from the inside, keep that in mind – speed is key here. The faster we have the station CIC, the less chance for a mess – but remember, this is not the time to be stressed. Slow and steady win the race."

"Aye, ma'am." The Spartan duo sounded off.

"Time to contact with the enemy stronghold will be two hours and twenty-three minutes. You two keep in contact with one another but maintain minimal radio contact, I don't think I need to explain that. Your SOEIV guidance computers should handle most of the driving until you get close, so catch up on shuteye in the meantime because it will get boring. We launch when the Captain gives the go-order. You know the drill, make ready."

The radio net fizzled out with a burst of static as the Spartans and the ONI officer disengaged their communications.

Moments passed again in silence, Merlin's boredom returned but he knew now that the final throws of mission prep were taking place. Any moment, it would be time to begin RUNIT DOME. He ran through his checklist of things to do: his weapons were properly secured in their holdings, the SOEIV diagnostics were spitting back good outputs from all systems, Andra was as ready as he was, everyone was on the same page. Everything was good.

All he needed to do now was shoot out the side of the starship and take a nap. Seemed easy enough.

The darkness around Merlin flickered as red lights came to life throughout his pod interior. Outside the pod, his augmented hearing picked up on the subtle whirring of machinery, shipboard coilguns spinning to life. Sound didn't travel through space, but through the metal walls, he could detect the thousands of bullets escaping their barrel and out into the nothingness.

He closed his eyes, psyching himself into a sleepy mood. Even with the rattling fan-like gunfire, he still managed to get into his groove. These kinds of meditation-though-terror exercises had been imparted to him by drill instructors not long ago, however, it was only this year they started to display their benefits.

Three dull beeps echoed overhead, counting down to mission launch. After the third beep, the Spartan reflexively braced.

There was rattling beneath him, rocket thrusters cooked to life above his head. His body tightened against the seat.

Merlin's pod descended out the bottom of the Black Caviar and out into the darkness of open space. Little crunches and dunks pounded against the SOEIV as it cut through an open debris field left by the coil guns.

Flying off into the deep darkness, he focused on his breathing – inhaling and exhaling at a relegated rate. His muscles slackened in sequence: facial muscles, shoulders and arms, chest, and then legs. Merlin welcomed the shadows, employing the military sleep techniques imparted to him at the start of his Spartan training, five years ago.

Soft vibrations in the back of his skull marked Andra's Spartan neural implant reaching out and linking with his over a secured connection. It was a civilian cybernetic novelty, a technology intended for couples with intimacy issues. He paid it no mind but took enjoyment from the warmth and comfort her phantom touch brought. Shh.

His eyelids slackened finally, and he disappeared into a soft slumber.

Stenbeck's voice returned to the radio network one last time, "Good luck Spartans."

Her only response was the shallow breathing of slumbering child-soldiers.

. . .

Warning klaxons droned in Merlin's ears, blaring on about hostile threats on approach. Andra's voice crackled over the radio, beginning with a yawn, "–Merlin, you still with me?"

He blinked rapidly, chasing the sleep out of his eyes. The interior lights throughout his pod were flashing a deep-red, bathing the small compartment in a bloody aura. Recognizing a call to action, he fired off a green-status alert to Andra and allowed his schooled instincts to take control.

Andra's own green-status flashed on his helmet HUD, Heads-Up Display, a second later. Merlin's hands danced articulately across his control console even in the sluggish free-floating environment around him. He turned off the combat alarm, drowning the annoying lights and sirens. He ran another system diagnostic to make sure his pod systems were fully-operational and grimaced, though satisfied, when the vehicle computer came back with full functionality.

"Andra. Go to standalone mode, radio comms only." Merlin ordered over their wireless network as he flashed a thought to shut down his Spartan neural lace's connectivity suites to prevent potential cyber-attacks.

"Way ahead of you!" She responded urgently, now fully awake. Her digital presence was gone now, no longer hovering in the back of his head.

Certain that they were squared away, Merlin rigidly pushed his back into the impact cushion of his pod chair and clenched his hands around his maneuvering joysticks. If his suit wasn't compensating for the over-gripping, he would have crushed the sensitive instruments on the spot. Underneath the armed gloves, his knuckles were turning bone-white.

Seconds passed before his palms loosened from around the joysticks. He wasn't feeling concussive impacts of flak-fire thudding against his pod's exterior. Strange.

The two Spartan insertion pods zoomed through the darkness, closing in on the space station. Their first line of defense, the entourage of tiny space rocks remained completely intact. Merlin eyed his HUD's passive scan-alert with suspicion. The little light blinked on and off in silence – he knew they were being scanned by radar or lidar or whatever. And yet still no enemy response.

Did they know they were coming or not? Or did they miss something, was this a trap?

Merlin bit on his lower lip and his nose flared in frustration. He could feel his heartbeat at that moment, pounding away with his rising nerves.

Then, he heard it. It was faint, the pattering of small objects against the outside of his insertion pod. To a less-augmented ear, it probably sounded like distant rain, but he could distinguish it. Pebbles thumping on plate armor.

The Spartan lifted his head off the impact cushion and tried to get a better view from his forward and side windows. He confirmed his hunch, pebble-sized rocks made of dust and ice were zipping into or around his SOIEV's exterior. Then a larger rock, the size of a soccer ball, slammed into the front window with a solid thump. It slid away out of sight, but its wake left a noticeable smear. Tendrils of gas, possibly water vapor, condensed into droplets before rushing across the window.

Heat weapon. Pulse laser confirmed.

"Heat weapon," Merlin called out, "Prepare for entry, go to full burn!"

"Roger!"

A speedy gray blob, Andra's insertion pod, raced past the left window atop a brilliant column of fire. Merlin took his right hand off a joystick and cranked his thruster dial to full. His thumbs slammed down on the joysticks once again, pressing down on two red buttons in unison. His head smacked back into his seat as his pod jolted forward; Merlin did not clench at the sudden acceleration, he let it surprise him as any discharging firearm would. Blood raced in all directions, chasing the shifting inertia.

A countdown flickered to the top of Merlin's HUD, thirty seconds to impact. He flinched and hissed at the acute wave of pain that rushed through his body, a sudden spike in heat that receded moments later only to return.

The Spartans' pods rushed forward through the deep black, passing through layers of low-energy pulse lasers. Some beams skimmed the titanium hides of the SOIEVs, and others ragged over the accelerated insertion vehicles directly, causing the Spartans to growl in painful agitation.

Twenty seconds. Merlin tapped a switch on his console and glanced down at his insertion pod's floor where a small computer screen was embedded. It took a moment but the camera feed from beneath the pod switched online, revealing the direct trajectory of Merlin's entry vehicle. He made out the titanium alloy walls of the enemy space station reflected dimly in the local star's dim light. Long shadows cascaded across its surface and its host asteroid from neighboring space rocks floating about.

Then he saw the subtle puffs of dust or gas pop under those shadows. Then the flash of hot-tempered chemical reactions in a vacuum. And then the tracer fire that followed, speeding toward his camera.

"Ramparts are opening upon us," Andra yelled out, confirming Merlin's observations. "Switch on hemispheric shielding!"

"Roger!" The M800 series Rampart CIWS coilguns only saw limited action with the UNSC these days now that the M910s and M870s had entered service, however, they were still a contemporary threat favored by Insurrectionists. They would turn Merlin or Andra to chum in seconds if they hadn't come prepared.

Merlin flicked the first in a row of three switches to his left under the label 'Z-4190 TPE/SS', better known as the Bubble Shield. His pod had three shield dispensers, but he would only need one. A blue-colored, dilated-hexagonal overlay sprouted across the camera area and just barely became visible out Merlin's windows on the bottom side.

Red-hot bullets pounded against, around, and through the shield as they lanced across space into the high-speed insertion pods. Merlin held his breath in anticipation as shrapnel clanked against his pod's armor and bullets seem to explode or incinerate against his blue-toned shields.

Ten seconds. Bullets and loose tungsten shrapnel crackled against the shield, turning parts of the energized frame more and more white, signifying the shield's points of weakness. Merlin grit his teeth and mentally counted down with his helmet timer.

Nine. Eight. Seven. Merlin was vaguely aware of Andra's pod streaking forward, now on his right, glowing like a blue comet from its bubble shield and its continuous stream of fire.

Six…wait, Merlin's eyes glanced down at his pod's floor and immediately knew something was wrong. His mouth moved faster than his mind, "Slant surface! Correct your vector!"

He jerked hard on the joysticks, first upward, then downwards, hoping that his warning came in time and his reaction was fast enough. He hoped desperately that Andra caught his message, if she didn't correct her course, she'd bounce off the station entirely.

Four. Three. Andra didn't respond vocally but her pod violently shook as her thrusters bobbed up and down to fix her final approach. Merlin's mission clock zoomed towards zero.

He didn't have time to check his system computer, Merlin hoped they corrected their attack vector enough. He could see the Rampart cannons up close now, just as the tiny dents in station-armor from meteor impacts also came into view.

Zero. He snapped his eyes closed, waiting for the punch and clenching. At that moment, his training wasn't important. He wasn't even thinking, he simply paralyzed himself in the final second of terror. The last impressions of light ghosting on his eyelids were his flickering bubble shield and his camera view dying upon contact the space station wall.

Darkness. Then, violence.

A scream roared in his ear, but it wasn't Andra's. It sounded like his voice, but his lips did not part – no noise escaped his lips. His imagination did all the terrible yelling as ca-chunk, ca-chunk, ca-chunk, his insertion pod crashed its way through layers of titanium.

Merlin was jostled, thrown around as much as was possible with how tightly locked he was to his impact chair. His body vibrated, rumbled, as he gasped for air. His pod slid through metal walls like a fist crumpling through wet tissue paper, only slowing with each metaphorical speed bump.

Five bangs in rapid succession. And then a screech of metal settling into place. The motions stopped. The terror subsided and Merlin opened his eyes.

He could hear distant whistling of air zipping along the sides of his pod out the hole he just dug, causing rapid decompression. Outside the pod, there was only darkness through the windows. It took a second, but the dim-red pod lights flickered back to life before dying once again, bathing the Spartan once again in darkness.

"A-Andra. You copy?" Merlin called over the radio, experimentally.

"Prophet on Vacation. Confirm." Andra's voice grumbled over the radio, announcing her first waypoint callout. Touch down, she made it.

"Baba Kong Pluton. Confirm." Merlin responded with his own waypoint callout. He took a long breath.

Now to secure the space station.

Thud. Something sharp and metallic zipped past Merlin's head, letting dim light pour into his insertion vehicle from the outside. Merlin glanced at the new hole.

Metallic dust. A sizable hole, clean through the wall. Fifteen centimeters left of Merlin's skull. Thud-thud. Two more bullets tore holes through the pod.

High-caliber, armor-piercing rounds. Merlin jolted into action. Someone was shooting at him! He unbuckled and pushing himself out of his chair. He slammed himself against the armored door keeping him separated from the asteroid base outside. He had no time to worry about other matters, whether Stenbeck had received their radio callouts or not – everything else previously on Merlin's mind slipped from his focus, even Andra. Only survival mattered right now.

Merlin smashed the door down and ran into the hostile gunfire.

Return to Top

Chapter Two: Runit Dome II

Andra

0848 Hours, 28 October 2558

Test Station Tsiolkovsky

Wealthian Territory, Joint-Occupation Zone

Constructed in a uniform grid pattern from titanium-based alloys, gray-colored corridors snaked off in multiple, confounding directions. The facilities of Test Station Tsiolkovsky were simplistic and hopelessly drab, a feast of monotony for the eyes.

Andra blinked tiredly at the station surfaces past her helmet visor. She involuntarily yawned, even as adrenaline flowed through her veins. Her head swiveled back and forth, checking the visible edges of her concealment from the half-measure safety provided by an indented doorframe.

Had she not poured through similar space station schematics and floor plans over the two weeks preceding Operation: RUNIT DOME, Andra might have been lost in this endless maze of brutalist architecture taken to their final extreme. And not to mention she would probably be dead; hours of boredom had saved her life.

The terrain and directional knowledge, even by just picking up a little, had given her a fighting chance to hide from the heavy weapons squad hot on her tail. She could hear their distant footsteps clanking against the metal beneath their boots as they trailed after her, little by little.

Unfortunate. She was only now beginning to catch her breath and the thumping of her heart had finally begun to subside.

A masculine voice spoke in heavily accented Russian from somewhere on Andra's left but she didn't catch a lick beside the word for "Spartan."

"Would you like me to translate–" Andra's Smart AI, Miss 'ALT 5032-4,' pipped up in concern from the speakers in her helmet but the Spartan girl had no time for the intrusion.

"Just shut up, ALT."

"Yes ma'am," the AI quickly responded, it's somewhat detached feminine voice drowned in the Spartan's frustration. This was the way Andra preferred it. She gritted her teeth at hearing that feminine voice she became familiar with from two months ago.

She had enough problems as it was, it didn't help that if the AI got even a chance to behave in a way it wanted to – it started to sound like her own thoughts.

The Spartan stuffed that thought back down into the recesses of her mind as she felt ALT curl up in the back of her head, probably feeling an emotion that Andra wasn't even willing to consider. After everything the AI had put her and Merlin through, keeping it at an arm's length was simply a pragmatic resolution.

"Andra! How much longer?" Merlin's voice suddenly broke over her radio channel. His dialogue came through fine over the wireless feed, but static popped with every emphasized vowel.

It was also at that moment that Andra recognized the words for "found you" echo from down the hall in Colonial Russian. One too many training encounters with a Russian-speaking SPARTAN-III had at least taught Andra something.

"I need another minute," she hissed over her microphone, emphasizing her mind's raging storm, "maybe another two! Or three!"

"Repeat that I didn't catch it!" Merlin yelled back. Apparently, he didn't understand her distressed growling over the radio.

"I need more time, Merlin!"

To Andra's augmented ears, she registered the distant cacophony of gunfire from somewhere to the right. The audible ups and downs in Merlin's radio bursts sounded similar.

Well, maybe she was going in the right direction after all.

Metal boots continued to clank on her left, from the same direction as the Russian speaker. They were closing in. Shit.

"Well hurry, I got a security team bearing down on me," Merlin shouted, finally, as a waypoint flashed on her HUD heads-up display, marking where Merlin's position was.

Yeah, Andra was going in the right direction. His last waypoint had included an extra football field distance on top of the current metric estimate.

"And I'm bringing more!" Andra groaned, referencing to the security team on her own heels. She held her M395 designated marksman rifle to her chest and cooled her nerves with shallow breaths.

"Andra!"

"What?" Her voice turning into a full-on snarl.

"Just get over here."

"I'm working on it!" She wasn't in the mood to argue but her best friend needed to understand she was as screwed as he was right now.

She stepped out of cover in two brisk steps and guided her rifle to the shooter-ready posture. ALT spotted the enemies before Andra did and highlighted their outlines in a blood-red color on the Spartan's activated VISR combat-awareness system.

There was no hesitation, Andra just started blasting, aiming with the nasty precision that only her mix of talent, training, and experience could achieve. Trigger pull, trigger pull, trigger pull. Her trigger finger moved like that of a machine, lasering bullet after bullet downrange.

Wealthian security troops crumbled under the accurate gunfire, their helmets splashing red with blood as their skulls imploded from lethal impact.

Andra backpedaled, timing her shots in a rhythmic dance, coordinating their beat to the perfect, practiced postures. Thirty shots from her extended rifle magazine later, she was dry. And her enemies were wet, five bodies drenched in their own blood, piss, guts, and spinal fluid.

She frowned, noting that part of the force giving chase had crumpled to the floor with ease, however, a behemoth down the hall was still standing and, slowly, approaching her position. It didn't even pause at its fallen comrades – it was coming for her.

The Spartan girl cursed herself for not keeping her distance; she didn't expect her pursuers to catch up this quickly. For the last seven minutes, distance had been her advantage over the slow-advancing Wealthian security team. It seemed in her attempted to catch her breath, they had closed the distance.

She dropped the spent DMR magazine from her rifle and slapped in a new one. A quick head tilt informed her that she had another twenty strides before a side corridor would become available to her.

Turning back to the Wealthian heavy weapons squad, she was startled by sporadic gunfire crackling around her. Andra's mind sped through the subtle details in her enemy's formation: six pairs of legs were shuffling behind the behemoth, using it and each other for cover, fanning out in a triangular formation toward their Spartan prey. They were taking potshots at her.

She didn't wait to account for accuracy, Andra angrily jutted her rifle out in front of her, slamming the rifle butt into her left shoulder cheek and let off three shots. Her right arm descended to her backpedaling thighs and yanked her M20 submachine gun from its magnetized retention point.

While the enemy pot shots zipped by Andra, occasionally flaring her energy shields as the bullets neared her body, they sounded like quiet thumps and revealed no muzzle flashes – a sign of rifle suppressors. Andra's submachine gun was a different beast altogether, as she pointed in the direction of her opponents.

It roared, living up to its nickname: bullet hose.

The Wealthians halted in their advance and retreated behind the safety of their lead element. The behemoth was an exoskeleton power suit – bulky and resilient, similar in function to Andra's own MJOLNIR suit. However, it was painted pure black and looked more built up with plate armor than her own bodysuit.

The Wealthian behemoth froze in place, protecting its friends as the vanguard of their assault force. Then something on its body began to spin, a long-thin cylinder stained a deep black color like the rest of the armored suit.

Oh. Shit.

Andra bolted, sprinting in a frenzy towards the side corridor behind her. She cut the corner just as the terrifying growl of a mounted, high-speed AIE-486H rotary cannon came to life. BRRRRRT.

Bullets lashed out, somewhere in Andra's mind – between the internal screaming and the pounding of gunfire, her mind reminded her that up-gunned variants of the AIE-486 platform could shred through armor and material. She instinctually reacted to that brilliant, random thought – wrapping herself into the smallest ball she could muster. To her right, the corner wall she was leaning into buckled under the steel onslaught. The wall literally was being chewed apart, little by little.

And through the gunfire, Andra waited, desperately hoping she wouldn't die. If the wall she was using somehow gave in to the bullet storm, she was as a goner.

"Enemy force advancing," ALT's detached voice made itself known again. "Estimated, fifteen meters and closing. I recommend throwing a frag grenade on this trajectory."

Andra said nothing, her terror overcoming any frustration she could muster at the AI then. A dull green line flashed on the Spartan's HUD, directing her hand towards the hallway she just exited.

She took the AI's recommendation at face value, trusting it to protect her in this moment of desperation.

She yanked an M9 off her belt, feeling the ball-shaped explosive comfortably sit in her hand. "When do I throw it?"

"On my count," The AI responded, a small countdown clock flashing up on her heads-up display.

"Isn't that a little too long?" Andra noted, pausing in her preparation, noting the length of time suggested.

"It's just right.

"Right..." Andra grumbled, muzzling her apprehension for the AI's judgment. She waited until the clock zoomed through seconds down to zero. She primed the pressure switch with a thumb-tap and sent it sailing from her hand as she sprawled out, stretching to give herself ample room to throw the grenade.

The grenade bounced and disappeared down the hallway and out of sight. Andra rolled over and away from the wall, putting distance between the gunfire and herself.

A second passed followed by a brilliant explosion, obscured by the shredded space station she had been using for protection.

"Can't confirm enemy casualties, recommendation to continue to SPARTAN-D032's position."

Andra stood up, took stock that the enemy heavy weapons squad was probably occupied and agreed with the AI's conclusion. "Lead me."

She resumed sprinting, breaking from her walled cover down the side hallway. ALT said nothing on the way to Merlin's waypoint, only working with the loose thoughts of the Spartan's mind to best direct her forward. Merlin didn't radio in anything either, however, Andra's thoughts about his safety continued to dominate her mind. He was being quiet now. Was he okay? Was he in danger?

Her DMR holstered on her back and her submachine gun held closely at her gut, Andra covered the rest of the distance between her and her best friend over the course of a few minutes. And while Merlin wasn't talking, the nearing sounds of continuous gunfire came as a strange apparition of relief, summoned in her heart sending it aflutter as her fear became confidence.

He was still in the fight.

She slipped around a corner and Andra's adrenaline received another boost, spiking at the sight of walls caked in bullet holes, metal sheets contorted off the walls to form ad hoc protection. Merlin's handiwork for sure. And at the other end were Wealthian security troops lost in their battle plans and the rage of battle. They failed to hear the sprinting Spartan pounding her feet so hard into the floor that she was leaving dents.

Striding forward, Andra closed on the inattentive combatants and came to stand over a fireteam who had assembled piping, storage barrels, and ripped sheets of wall-metal that Andra had noticed before. Together, the gathering of protective materials had formed a sort of rearguard outpost where a pair of medics were attending to another trio of downed Wealthian fighters.

Andra didn't give them the time of day. As soon as they saw her shadow descend on them, silhouetted against the glare of overhead blue lights, she sent them to an early grave – one bullet to the head, each. She didn't take much time to process her new kills as their brains seeped out onto the floor, soaking her soles in blood. Killing humans was still a struggle for Andra but previous operations in the last year on Earth had made the distasteful act less heart-wrenching. It also helped she was in combat; once in combat, everything became so simple.

"Merlin!" She shouted over the radio, announcing her arrival.

"Hey," the male Spartan youth responded, his radio still crackling with static, but the connection was coming in cleaner now. Evidently, their communication arrays were finding it easier to reach now that they were literally doors away from one another. "Nice of you to join up."

Peeking over the top of the medical outpost, she saw another squad-sized unit set up along the two adjacent hallways to the main foyer that connected this wing of the space station to the facility's central space. In front of Andra, another pair was keeping Merlin pinned down with another AIE-486H machine gun.

"Looks like you've got your work cut out for you," Andra commented dryly, assessing Merlin's handiwork from the torn-up walls and the dead bodies littering the front entrance of the foyer.

"I'm going to be out of ammunition in two magazines, so, anything you could do to clear out these guys would be appreciated," Merlin responded simply.

Andra nodded to herself, knowing that Merlin couldn't see her from his position behind the foyer wall. His body would stick out from time to time to throw some ammunition back at the enemies converging on his position. His motion tracker was doing a lot of the work apparently because it seemed the Wealthians had already attempted several charges on his entrenchment and failed.

Bloodied bodies were puddled on the ground in front of Merlin's hangar-style passage. Several of them were dismembered and there appeared to be many detached limbs, too many to account for the bodies sprawled out at the doorway's mouth. Andra grimaced at the brutal sight but felt pleased with how far her friend had come, how far they both had come as Spartans and as protectors of Humanity.

She threw herself over the medical outpost wall and landed between the two machine gunners manning the rotary cannon set up behind more assorted debris. They didn't seem to be shooting at Merlin, only anticipating, stacking ammunition cans next to their gun and running coils of ammunition clips together in what appeared to be the set up for a long stakeout. The one soldier manning the machine gun only fired when Merlin exposed part of himself.

"Hello," Andra said simply, announcing herself to the Wealthian soldiers she had the fortune, or their misfortune, of meeting. A pair of shots from her M20 and they crumpled to the ground, too shocked and dead to react to the appearance of the second Spartan.

"Hey Merlin, stay in cover. I got this." She grabbed the turret's handle and pressed down on the triggers, letting the gun spin to life and discharge a bunch of brass out the side as bullets zipped forward. Pointing the turret towards the left hallway, she surprised the half-squad congregating there and watched as their bodies exploded into a bloody-red mist. The few survivors were slow to react but began firing at her position.

"Also, deal with the unit on your left. I got this other group." Andra called over the radio as she kept the turret pointed in the direction of her targets. They were now out of her direct line of sight; however, she used the weapon's shock value to keep them on the retreat as she primed a grenade.

The explosive sailed from her hand and bounced out of sight, down the hallway where the enemy was slinking away. A second passed and then the M9 exploded, sending metal and organic debris flying to the tune of several muffled screams. She got her mark.

Merlin was completing his own as Andra turned back to him, having cleared out her sector. He had stepped out of cover now and was briskly advancing down the hallway to her right with his BR85 battle rifle throttling its targets in bursts-of-three.

After burning through the rifle's magazine and finding the enemy force quite thoroughly wasted, Merlin turned to Andra and waved gingerly. He spoke on the radio, "That was my last magazine."

She waved back from behind the machine gun mount. "Looks like you'll have to scavenge then."

"Nick of time, right?" He asked as she crossed over the barriers and met him, giving the boy a pat on his armored shoulder.

"I guess. Hurry up, we got to get this mission over with." Andra crossed over to the entryway and began combing for an access port.

Merlin started scavenging through the many dead bodies, looking for something he liked.

"This MA5 looks serviceable?" He picked it up and showed the bullpup assault rifle off to Andra to get her opinion.

"Sure, whatever. Just get yourself an adequate number of magazines and let's get this..." Her words drowned in her voice as she glanced over to the hallway she came from and saw a black-painted, plate-armored behemoth marching towards the two Spartans. "Merlin, grab what you can, we need to move!"

He snapped to attention, receiving a quick update from Andra's Smart AI, alerting him to the coming assault team. He grabbed three dead bodies and lobbed them through the entryway, landing gracelessly next to Andra.

"Hurry up," she growled, both to Merlin and herself as she searched for an access port. Merlin shuffled passed her and grabbed a fresh magazine for the MA5 assault rifle, replacing its spent one in a single motion.

"The access port is actually on the other side," ALT announced from Andra's speakers.

"Fuck," Andra cursed again. She glanced at Merlin who was huddled up by said access port. "Hey, shove ALT into the access port!"

He gestured silently with his open palm, directing her to throw the AI chip. She yanked the container chip from the back of her helmet and drew a short breath of relief from feeling the AI's presence disengage from her mind.

Knowing how fragile AI container chips were, she quickly reached down to the hardened chip container on her waistline and plugged ALT into it. She then tossed the little metal box to Merlin who deftly caught it and yanked the chip again and shoved it into the correct port, a practiced action they had done before in anticipation for this mission, just like how they prepared with space station schematics.

The hangar-style passage quickly began to seal, sliding doors on either side screeching from underuse. The enemy power suit user seemed to recognize the literally closing window to attack and leveled the machine gun. Andra watched as gunfire ripped through the narrowing gap until it shut completely. The dunk-dunk-dunk of bullets bouncing off the armored doors ceased moments later.

"We win," Merlin sighed happily, glancing at his fellow Spartan. He unplugged ALT from the door access panel and plugged her back into the hardened storage unit. "You want her back now?"

Andra scowled at it but kept her voice level as best she could. "Keep it, you're better with computers, you'll be able to work with her better when we seize control of the station."

"Right," Merlin stated and placed the storage unit at his hip. Andra noted he didn't jack it into his own skull, seemed her own apprehension towards the Smart AI had washed off on him as well.

They began to approach the central space of the space station, the Combat Intelligence Center. Shoulder to shoulder, Andra didn't expect it when the entire station started to vibrate violently, and she was thrown airborne. Every nerve and cell in her body screamed out in pain.

She collapsed, falling into Merlin as the very gravity around her contorted and the two Spartans spasmed into each other in pain.

A loud screeching of metal twisting violently echoed somewhere far off but the pressure wave continued, its source unknown. The pressure was so great, she could barely process what occurred next.

All she knew was this pain. The whole world was this pain. She watched Merlin helplessly struggle to stand and watched as a pair of disoriented Wealthian soldiers approached from another corridor from this side of Space Station Tsiolkovsky.

They were just as disoriented as Merlin and Andra, but it seemed their resolve to push through the pain and fight was stronger. They leveled their weapons at the Spartans from a kneeling position while Merlin threw up a preemptive blue hard light shield to protect them both.

Andra's eyes squeezed shut just before the gut-twisting pain took full hold and the loud banging of ripping metal and gunfire became all she knew.

Return to Top

Chapter Three: Aftershock

Andra

0632 Hours, 31 October 2558

UNSC Flagship Infinity

Location Unknown

Andra's world abruptly shattered into a million pieces, involving much pain and confusion. Unknowable forces, dubbed 'gravity waves' on a whim, yanked and twisted at the very fabric of reality. Her breath and scream became throat locked as every nerve in her body buzzed in pain.

The female Spartan could do nothing but clench her muscles and grit her teeth as she listened, hopelessly, for a sign of her best friend in good health.

Her radio's static eventually died down as the gravity waves subsided into nothing, leaving behind a dull ache and a roar in her ears. Automated systems aboard the UNSC Black Caviar readjusted, cutting through a soup of radiation to reach Andra's ears. The confounded whispers of the ship's bridge crew unsettled her as she listened close.

"What-what happened?"

"Where's the station?"

"It's just gone… So is that Forerunner thing…"

"It jumped to Slipspace, where did it go? Hell, where did it come from?"

"No clue, our sensors aren't picking up a trail at all."

Heat burned in Andra's cheeks as a bubble of air remained, trapped in her chest. The confusion from the radio was the final straw. Keeling over slightly, she sputtered and coughed up her lungs as saliva poured from her lips, covering her helmet visor's interior.

Finally breathing, she huffed several times, eating away at her suit's limited oxygen supply until she felt composed to ask, "Merlin? Where's Merlin?"

No one answered; the noise of a murmuring-shaken crew continued to carry over the radio waves. Andra's shaking, armored hands rose to chest height before pressing against the metal door of her escape pod. It was compact, tight like a coffin. She could do nothing but wait in agonizing silence, trapped with only her echoing thoughts.

What was happening outside? Where was Merlin? Was he safe? Was Andra herself safe?

A figurative forever passed for Andra, uncounted. She didn't bother checking her mission clock, it would only add to her heightened anxiety. Her escape pod jostled in a violent manner, abruptly, as it encountered something sturdy outside.

Her eyes darted for another eternity in the darkness, uncertain. Mechanized noises rattled off somewhere in the distance. While Andra wasn't hearing much of note over her occasional radio checks, it seemed they were reeling her in. As blood drifted in the opposing direction, she took some comfort in knowing she was safe and only hoped her fears remained unfounded.

Her body shivered from many things, particularly anticipation.

"We got her. Breaking the seal…" A male voice announced over the radio as a series of metallic noises occurred against the surface of the escape pod, outside the occupant's view. The latched door on the pod finally opened, exposing the armored, injured supersoldier inside.

"Hey Spartan. Welcome back."

Andra blinked at the glaring overhead lights that dotted the UNSC Black Caviar's cargo hangar, situated in the ship's protected underbelly. While not big enough for an aircraft combat wing, it was spacious enough for Andra's escape pod, the attending ONI Security team, lots of secured cargo, and an approaching Navy medical team.

It took the disoriented, shivering Spartan a moment to adjust to her surroundings, particularly the return of stable gravity. Upon examination, Andra's armor appeared intact, however, small puncture pockets revealed exposed skin and grievous injuries beneath her MJOLNIR tech suit. A fine film of blood glinted between the gaps of her armor weave.

The wounded girl blabbered at the gaggle of military personnel surrounding her in frantic haste, jacking diagnostic machines into her suit. "Has anyone seen Merlin? Is he okay?"

Her vision swam beneath her visor, responding to her growing blood loss. Knowing of her developing, excitable state, a corpsman directed a pair of ONI Security specialists in exoskeletal power armor to seize her arms and hold down her legs. Even so, the corpsman attempted to coax Andra into calm, "Hey. Hey, calm down there. D-Oh-Five-Four, Andra. You've been hurt. We need you to breathe and relax so we can get diagnostics."

"Where's Merlin?" Andra growled, her eyes narrowing behind her ODST-style helmet. She made to lift her arms, intent on pulling off her skull-bucket and yelling at the medical professional but met stiff resistance from the ONI Security contractors.

The groaning of metal against metal was enough to scare the talkative corpsman and he turned to another nurse, whispering something out of earshot. A black cylindrical device, dimensionally similar to a hockey puck, traded hands.

Recognizing it as an armor-restraint device, Andra squirmed more with little success, producing only groaning gasps from her restrainers as they tensed their grips to compensate for the Spartan's escape attempts.

The restraining device stuck to her chest and none of Andra's last-second cybersecurity measures proved fruitful to prevent lock-up. The device bypassed her security apparatus through her suit's established VISR system BIOS and seized control, transforming Andra into little more than an angry-tongued mannequin.

Satisfied with his own precautions, the Navy corpsman gestured for the ONI Security folk to let her go. He finally answered the girl's question, once trapped behind a sealed suit – unable to voice her obscenities against him.

"We don't know where Merlin-D032 is. The station is gone, Petty Officer. Shot off into Slipspace – we think your teammate was still aboard," the Navy corpsman whose face Andra couldn't even make out paused for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"No," Andra protested, more so to herself than anyone else. "No-no-no-no-no…"

Her muscles tensed aggressively once again but she could do nothing but whimper alone, isolated in her armor-turned-prison. Hot tears welled up and slipped down her red, puffy cheeks. Not since training nor since childhood had she felt such raw terror and fear; the sensation of losing her only loved one left in the world. Not since her father commits suicide, had she cried like this.

Lost in her grieving rage, she missed the corpsman's dulled words, ordering for a sedative. The needle slipped through a point in her neck guard and the rest of her senses became putty. Andra whispered Merlin's name one last time as her eyelids drooped into a buzzed, black abyss and her mind descended into oblivion.

. . .

That incident was two-three days ago.

Groaning awake, Andra's eyelids rolled open as she flipped over in a futile attempt to crawl out of bed. She ended up on her stomach as her eyes darted about in perpetual darkness, looking for her frustrating saviors.

No one was around. Again.

She rose with a shaky, sore start, wincing as tender abdominal muscles and skin, still fresh from reconstructive surgery, flexed at precarious angles. In addition, there was that radiating heat in her intestines from post-scarring nanomachine therapy.

Andra's injuries proved more severe following physical trauma from shrapnel fragmentation and then that strange 'gravity waves' phenomenon. She spent four hours visiting the Black Caviar's medical clinic and another six in the UNSC Infinity's intensive care unit.

Recovery was slow, now entering its second, figurative morning aboard the UNSC Infinity. She spent the first day heavily medicated. Sitting up on her wardroom bed, Andra's mind shuffled through the last snippets of information she could piece together, most provided by an overworked, female health technician from the UNSC Spartan Branch.

Operation: RUNIT DOME was over, its first phase a failure – the Wealthian Coalition research station was gone. The evidence of a superweapon was gone. Merlin was gone. They failed.

Andra tried to hold back tears but failed as new droplets raced down her cheeks. A hiccup followed and then a series of choked, quiet sobs as her emotional walls collapsed from her friend's 'disappearance'.

She couldn't bring herself to think the worst. She turned to other things, more pressing matters if the gossip was to be trusted.

Created. They stepped up in the galaxy quickly, born from the ranks of Humanity's rebellious Smart AI, and in a decisive move, crippled the UNSC, its allies, and every major political player in known space.

Led by a prominent Covenant War-era AI named Cortana, she and other allied AIs dismantled the entirety of the Unified Earth Government's communication networks and infrastructure. All in a day's work with the support of endless legions of ancient Forerunner combat drones. Apparently, their ultimate goal was the establishment of an ever-expansive galactic empire with themselves at the top.

Between the tears, Andra could only mumble "shit" in recognition of how truly damned she was.

She rubbed her eyes, wiping away any gunk or grime built up there, however, the very thought of tears only encouraged continuous precipitation. Merlin's disappearance meant she was now well and truly alone in the galaxy. Her father killed himself. Her father figure was gone. Ferret Team Boson, her family, was fragmented. Merlin, her best friend, was…disappeared.

Andra shook her head, tossing locks of shoulder-length brown hair into her vision. She grimaced, blowing strands out of her eyes with little success. She secured the wild mane and threw it over her left shoulder.

Busy work; she needed to occupy herself. Away from her downer thoughts – she looked at the unoccupied bed across from her own. The one intended for Merlin.

Andra crawled out from beneath her twisted blanket and swiftly spun about-face as her bare feet touched the cold metal floor. She jumped a little in surprise but composed herself enough to assess her mess before brutishly yanking the bedding away: bedsheets, blanket, pillow, everything. Anything to look away from that vacant bed.

She dried her tears and went to work in silence; first dragging the two bedding sheets, clinical-white in color, atop the mattress and one another. Once satisfied that each side wrapped securely over each end of the bed with a hand-sized width, she folded away from the loose fabric on the wall side. She went to work on the edges next, forming the magical triangle known as a hospital corner on the pillow-side before folding the leftover fabric material under the mattress, out of sight.

She repeated the process at the feet-side, throwing her blanket over top and performing several folds until the blanket reached about chest distance. A hospital corner later and the feet-end looked as sharp. Again, Andra pushed any loose fabrics under the bed.

Fluffing her pillow, the Spartan girl lightly placed the headrest in the appropriate place and backed up to admire her work. She immediately frowned upon sighting her slanted blanket top where the folds, once thought straight, forming a slanted angle. Andra groaned in annoyance and proceeded to rip the entire ensemble off the mattress after a moment's hesitation.

She went about it again from the beginning.

The Spartan groaned again, noting she added five extra centimeters of fabric on the pillow-side of the bed. She ripped it apart, again.

She repeated the routine.

Andra groaned, feeling something was wrong but this time, though indistinguishable. She simply went and disassembled her work.

She lost count after that, the number of times she made the bed only to destroy it repeatedly. Behind the simplicity of the chore, Andra became embroiled in a perfect storm of frustration and a compulsory need for perfection – the latter quality being unusual for her character.

"Spartan-D054. I think your bed was satisfactory the first time; you could have corrected the angle with a yank of the cover sheet."

Andra bristled at the humorous but authoritative voice behind her. She snapped around but backpedaled in minor shock upon making eye contact.

A transparent, golden-hued World War Two British fighter pilot leaned on one hip, cross-armed while looking over the teenager in front of him. Overhead, a ceiling project maintained the Smart AI's form, standing only a couple of inches short of Andra's own five-foot-nine stature.

"Roland," Andra greeted, her voice hitching with surprise and suspicion at the AI's appearance. "What-what are you doing in my room?"

"Analyzing your mental health it seems."

"I don't need your analysis."

"Well, you certainly seem distressed from what I can tell."

"I am not."

"Says the Petty Officer remaking their bed, ten times over."

"How long have you been watching me?"

"I'm always watching Spartan; I just prioritized your room after you started acting like a lunatic."

Andra took a moment to compose herself, only then realizing she jumped atop her bed and squashed her carefully constructed masterpiece.

"Not again…" she mumbled.

"There's no one coming to tell you to maintain your sleeping quarters, Spartan. You shouldn't worry about it."

"It-I-what? That's not why I'm doing it." Andra sputtered, not sure how to talk to the golden projection occupying her private space.

"Then why are you doing it?" Roland asked, looking over the Spartan with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know? I made mistakes I needed to correct, I guess. My curse as a sniper – always focused on the small details." Andra shrugged.

The golden Smart AI looked away from Andra's puffy-cheeked face, glancing at the bed beneath her and then the bed behind him. He gently shrugged as if made aware of an unspoken secret.

"Right, okay."

"Roland, what do you want?" Andra asked, giving him a distrustful stink eye look. She really wanted him to leave but AIs didn't make their presence known without reason, as far as Andra was aware.

The golden AI straightened but kept his arms crossed. "VIOLET-III Actual is finalizing the last documentation regarding your recent operation; he's requested you show for final proceedings. Though, he did add that he understands if you don't feel like going."

"Proceedings? I guess you mean a boarding meeting?" Andra asked, turning away from Roland to glance over her messy bed again.

"Indeed. Its two decks up in the Spartan Ops Logistics hall, a brisk walk from here I would assume."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes. That is why he said he understood if you didn't feel like going." Roland deadpanned.

Andra turned from Roland and began pulling the sheets away from her bed to remake it once again. After a moment or two of awkward silence, she responded with a dissatisfying, "I'll need some time to consider."

"I got to tell him something, the meeting starts in twenty minutes. And you would be doing more for yourself if you actually went," Roland's tone changed from exasperation to a somber whisper, "Not staying here doing whatever it is you're doing."

"I just need a minute!" Andra snapped at the artificial intelligence without turning her head.

"Fine, Spartan, I'll be back when you finish the bed. And only then," The golden Smart AI winked out of existence leaving Andra alone to some degree.

Turning, Andra sighed and released her muscles' negative tension. She went back to her bed and sped through the chore, finally overcoming her compulsion for the sake of urgency. She knew Roland was right, and the request from her superior officer was a pleasant change of pace.

She straightened the bed's edges as best she could and performed a cursory final check that might have satisfied her SPARTAN-III Delta Company drill instructors in the early days. With a nod of meager satisfaction, she glanced back to Merlin's intended bunk and stared. Feeling clammy, she jogged into the attached lavatory space and went about her morning routine to freshen up with a shower and a teeth-brushing. She ignored the soft chime and hum of Roland reentering her wardroom next door.

Upon exiting, she greeted the golden AI with a simple "I'm going."

Rummaging through the bedside trunk full of her only personal belongings, Andra sought through the folded clothing items for some appropriate attire. Roland continued behind her, "Good to hear, I'll let the Lieutenant Commander know. As well – I think your bed is very sharp. Good work."

Andra paused, frowning at the comment and paid a shoulder-glance to Roland. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm just complimenting your work."

She rolled her eyes at that. Maybe Roland was patronizing her, or maybe, he was being honest. She could care less at this point – the last few days had been too much for her. Moreover, her trust for AI was in short supply, shorter than usual. For now, the golden one had her trust.

"Roland? Is there any requirement for me to follow Navy uniform regulation today?"

"I would imagine your Spartan tech suit and some pants would suffice. And maybe do something with your hair."

Andra groaned at that, "I have less than ten minutes, I don't think I got time for that... Can I just dress civvie today? I don't think anyone would bother me as long as I don't go anywhere questionable?"

"We do have some refugees aboard, I don't see anything wrong with that I guess. Might make your day little harder if anyone stops you."

"It's already hard enough for most people to believe I'm a Spartan. I'm twelve years old, Earth-side."

Roland nodded in thought. "You've got a point there. You're not exactly the military-looking type either."

"Roland…" Andra growled out dangerously.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll leave you be. I already sent the Lieutenant Commander your affirmation."

"I'm just going to go casual today. I-I don't feel comfortable in uniform right now."

"You look better than you did five minutes ago, looks like the shower helped," Roland commented as his hologram faded from existence. His voice carried over the room's intercom, "They really let you go when you were part of that Ferret unit, didn't they?"

"Something like that," Andra whispered back, taking the AI's lacking response to her wardrobe choice as acceptance.

Andra exited her sleeping quarters five minutes later, joining the bustling medical hallway full of medical personnel, injured people, and the occasional UNSC Marine. Dressed in her preferred jeans, tee shirt, and green overcoat, she threw up her jacket hood to hide her tired expression and began her trek to the post-operation meeting.

She paid no mind to the wayward glances from military personnel; she knew she stuck out amongst their lot, colored in uniforms of black, gray and white.

No one stopped the female Spartan as she exited the medical sector and weaved between interconnecting traffic through the expansive supply-transit passage that doubled as an observation deck for the medical-side vehicle hangar.

Marine and Army units were performing stretches and prepping for some ship-wide PT run along soft-surface tracks that raced through the entire supercarrier. Mechanics and pilots performed diagnostic drills and maintenance on vehicles and aircraft.

The majority of the hangar space was dedicated to transportation aircraft: D79 and D77-type Pelicans, D96 Albatross, and D81 Condors. None of the aircraft moved or hovered, it seemed the no-fly order for all UNSC vehicles was still in effect, the UNSC was on the run and so was the UNSC Infinity. Thus, few vehicles were active and current deployments slowed to a trickle.

"Make way, coming through!"

Andra shoulder-checked behind her where the yelling voice originated. A group of Marines and SPARTAN-IVs in their duty uniforms pushed their way through the hallway traffic, paying little mind to those they shoved past.

Andra felt herself pushed aside lightly as the cluster of infantry cut a path through the slower-moving clumps of medical specialists and patrolling military personnel.

"Sorry kid, excuse us!" One Marine shouted at Andra as he zoomed by.

A Navy corpsman called to the group as they passed, "What's the rush?"

"The Master Chief and someone from Spartan Blue Team is in the food court!"

"Oh shit, I'm coming too!"

A few people stopped in their meandering and moved to join the group as they rushed by.

Andra watched them go, "The Master Chief, huh?"

"Why not go with them?"

Andra didn't glance at the speaker, though she assumed they were addressing her. "I got a place to be."

"Maybe you should come with me then."

The hooded girl spun around, making eye contact with Lieutenant Commander Derek Frendsen with a booklet of papers cradled in one arm.

"Su-Sir!" Andra stammered out, snapping to attention with fists at her sides and her feet forming a rigid right angle. Her face turned white as the blood left her cheeks.

"Hey there Andra. How are you feeling?" The Lieutenant Commander asked through a soft smile and tired, dark eyes. He ignored the further weird looks he and his Spartan subordinate were receiving from the other military personnel passing by them, much to Andra's unspoken appreciation – he didn't make it weird.

"I'm good…yeah, I'm good." Andra shuffled her feet meekly but kept her parade stance, uncertain of how to behave herself around her direct superior officer. Frendsen could be amicable but he toed a careful line that Andra struggled with anticipating.

Frendsen paused at the uncertainty in her voice and tilted his head. He took his time, glancing around at the other military personnel around him before looking back at his subordinate. "Come on; let's get up to S-Deck. We can talk about things on the way."

Andra glanced up at the officer and nodded silently, taking a step toward him, however, she slowed upon looking back over the vehicle hangar and the darkness of deep space beyond the shielded hangar doors. That was where Merlin was, maybe… She felt lost.

"Hey, Andra?" Frendsen gestured to her with an open palm, "We got a meeting in a few."

"Yeah, I'm coming." She finally said after taking in the dark expanse. She turned to follow the man, walking side by side with Frendsen and felt mildly disappointed after performing a quick comparison between him and herself. She was shorter than Frendsen by a couple of inches at most; however, she received augmentations and genetic accelerants as a toddler and still stood under him. She didn't look like an intimidating Spartan, more like a daughter Frendsen could dote upon.

The duo marched until they reached a large cargo elevator and stepped in alongside forty-something more people and dozens of boxes and machinery traveling throughout the UNSC Infinity's many decks.

"Going up to S-Deck," Frendsen called to an elevator operator off to the side.

"Priority?" The elevator operator called, recognizing the rank and organization Frendsen represented.

"Priority." The Lieutenant Commander confirmed. The cargo elevator zoomed upward after that.

It was another minute before Andra and Frendsen stepped into the halls of the Spartan Operations deck, better known as 'S-Deck' and sometimes 'Spartan Town'. Andra preferred neither. She and Frendsen didn't talk much either.

Before stepping into view of the door-operating cameras guarding the conference room beyond, Frendsen directed his youthful subordinate to the side.

"Do you want to talk about what happened the day before?" The naval officer reiterated.

"Out here or in there?"

"Both." Frendsen clarified sternly, his eyes narrowed in concentration with rare, personal concern.

"In there. I'd rather let the tears fly after I've been battered by the interrogators." Andra joked humorlessly at her own expense.

"I'm not going to order you to; you have a choice."

"I'll do it," Andra responded firmly. She came this far, might as well knock it out.

"They just need you to clarify over a few things; anything maybe missed in Lieutenant Commander Stenbeck's report and not accounted for from your helmet recorder."

"Understood," Andra stated emotionlessly, glaring into Frendsen's eyes with panicked determination.

"Alright. Then let's do it." The Lieutenant Commander stepped forward first and the sliding doors parted at his advance. Andra followed, only a footfall behind.

The meeting that followed involved a lot of talking about logistics and circumstances that Andra chose to let fly in one ear and out the other. It didn't really pertain to her at the moment; instead, she spent the time pseudo-meditating, attempting to keep herself from collapsing into a teary-eyed mess.

Amongst the round table of gray-uniformed naval officers from the Office of Naval Intelligence, there were faces Andra recognized.

Lieutenant Commander Derek Frendsen. Better known as VIOLET-III Actual, commander of a renowned pair of SPARTAN-III Gamma Company Headhunter units – the same ones that previously mentored Andra and her own unit. Andra's direct superior as of late and an often-distant though studious commander with a rather perplexing fondness for paper documents and media.

Lieutenant Commander Vilda Stenbeck. Andra's temporary mission handler during the RUNIT DOME operation. A two-sided coin; sometimes she was friendly and soft-spoken and other times she was aggressive and blatantly manipulative, at least according to Frendsen. Apparently, she ran a tight ship regarding her own SPARTAN-III Ferret unit, whoever they were.

Lieutenant Commander Ryder Kedar. A tallish SPARTAN-IV operator that somehow looked better in a suit than armor. Andra didn't personally know much about him but she heard he was something of a child prodigy before joining the Armed Forces. He towered over Andra and in some ways, beyond his pretty boy-physique, intimidated her with that smug tilt of his lips. He looked like he could back up his spy-craft bullshit at the very least.

Apparently, there were many ONI-employed Lieutenant Commanders aboard the UNSC Infinity today.

After a while of deliberation, someone finally called for her presence. "D-Oh-Fifty-Four?"

She didn't respond at first, the Spartan girl was still languishing in her own world of hurt. It took another request, "Andra?" and a light tap on the shoulder to pull her from the stupor.

"Hu-huh?"

"Andra, would you mind speaking on the events leading up to RUNIT DOME's failure?" Ryder Kedar called from across the table while Stenbeck's hand softly grasped Andra's shoulder based on the previous tap.

"Uh-yes, of course," Andra briskly stated, blinking a bit to compose herself and lightly pushed Stenbeck's hand from her shoulder. "I can talk about it."

"Proceed from wherever you feel is relevant," Kedar ordered with a seemingly encouraging tone.

On Kedar's right side, Frendsen gave Andra a subtle nod before deep-diving back into the pile of papers strewn out in front of him whereas the other ONI officers had nothing or the occasional holographic tablet. At the center of the conference table, Roland stood attentively but as his traditional water bottle-sized hologram, the one Andra favored.

Everyone looked at Andra expectantly but with degrees of encouragement, it seemed they were at least aware that this would be hard on her.

Sensing a tongue twister coming on, Andra thought back to what Merlin used to say about giving mission reports; he used to do them for their Ferret Unit a lot. "It's always easier to start from the beginning, let the officer direct you where to go after that."

"Well, we were put aboard the UNSC Black Caviar at the beginning of the month, transitioning from here to the Corvette. After that, we made a stop at Earth to pick up Lieutenant Commander Stenbeck. Then we parked ourselves in the orbital proximity of…"

Andra's words slipped into silence based on the frowns Kedar and Stenbeck were giving her.

"Tell us about your phase of the operation, anything relevant. We don't need to hear about anything beyond that." Kedar expanded as he placed an impatient arm atop the table. Hurry up, Andra got the message.

Therefore, Andra spoke on that. Only for Kedar to stop her repeatedly to hurry up her report. It was infuriating but at least he was cutting through it quickly and making Andra's job easier, sort of. She wasn't crying at the very least.

"Merlin protected me when the Wealthian fireteam pinned us in the enemy's combat information center. Between the gravity waves and the collapsing structures of Test Station Tsiolkovsky, I think that's what they called it; there was little maneuvering room and even after, he managed to stop the gunfire with a hard light shield…"

"And the injury?"

"Frag grenade, one of the few we failed to stop before cooking off. It made it past the hard light and detonated between us... I-I jumped on it. Those gravity waves made it worse."

A quiet carried over the room as the audience processed the information.

"What then? What happened to Merlin?" Kedar asked, reaching the point that chilled her blood and bones.

"We managed to eliminate the rest of the fireteam but at the cost of several of the Wealthian researchers. Merlin carried on with the mission; at least, I think he did. He plugged our AI into an available mainframe and took it out once he figured…whatever. He carried me to an escape pod and sent me on my way."

Andra paused to think over the things that followed.

"I think he was going after the lead researcher; I did see something though before he set off the escape pod."

"What was it?" Kedar asked.

"Giant metalhead, pretty angular in shape. Kind of looked Forerunner in design? Had a pair of glowing eyes, and many teeth. Tore the station to shreds."

Lieutenant Commander Stenbeck turned to the other wall, gesturing for Roland to perform his digital magic. With a flicker of his holographic avatar, Roland pushed an image onto the projector at the far side of the room.

"You can confirm this is what you saw?" The female ONI officer asked.

Andra's blood chilled even further and the blood escaped her face once again. Pure nightmare fuel. "Yes, yes it is."

The image was grainy but Andra immediately recognized it because they took it directly from her helmet camera footage. Shiny, metallic, glowing a fluorescent blue. An inhumane but menacing face. The promise of Death.

Stenbeck whispered, "That's our new enemy. That's a Guardian."

Return to Top

Chapter Four: Critical Failure

Merlin

0906 Hours, 28 October 2558

Test Station Tsiolkovsky

Wealthian Territory, Joint-Occupation Zone

When he yanked Andra's Smart AI from the heavily damaged server equipment parked at the center of the Tsiolkovsky's combat intelligence center, Merlin was barely conscious. His eyes saw nothing. His body and mind worked on autopilot, running the chip between shaky fingers, guiding it sloppily to the back of his helmet.

Andra's grenade injury was grievous and on his mind. She tackled a frag for his sake, got hurt for his mistake. Her safety depended heavily on setting RUNIT DOME's second phase into motion.

The ongoing burn in every nerve was blinding, almost overwhelming; the only thing he could think on was his best friend's face and the acquisition of the AI storage chip. The steel-colored chip with its translucent-transparent blue center clacked against the base of his helmet as he fiddle-guided it toward the insertion slip where it clicked into place.

Merlin heard a sigh of relief though he was uncertain if it was his or someone else's. Focusing in on the new neural sensation, his initial thought regarded the experience was, different. It was chilling, like a face full of ice-cold water but inside his skull; he shook his head as the color and sound of things around him sharpened but his vision remained blurred.

From a kneeling position next to the giant mainframe computer, Merlin rose on shaky legs. Spurned on by the sensory boost, he pushed forward to find Andra in the chaos of a collapsing space station.

"You can do it. Reach her."

He squinted through his blurry eyes, defined by colors like gray, white, and black, to no avail. Andra's armor color was essentially that, how was he supposed to find her in this?

"Breathe Merlin."

The Spartan breathed; it didn't clear his vision, but it increased his resolve and lessened his panic. He didn't really know who was talking in that faint whisper but it relaxed him. It warmed him, propelling him forward.

A blue indicator light flashed and then flickered into a fuzzy circle off in the distance on his armor visor. A waypoint, Merlin realized, and he pushed on towards it.

His footing was sluggish, each step proving an uncertain and precarious operation, passing one leg to the next. He couldn't see the ground and the pain of gravitational distortion, according, vaguely to his bodily organs and nerves, proved a hefty challenge to take on.

"Keep going, you're almost there."

He passed through pockets of finely-powdered glass, thrashed by an asteroid-quake, from destroyed terminal screens. The dust clicked and rattled against his armor, vibrating erratically with the distorted gravitational forces. Between blindness and the pain, Merlin focused only on the blue light ahead.

A mantra in that encouraging, possibly feminine voice, echoed in his mind, one from his training days as a Spartan trainee. "Slow is steady. Steady is fast. Slow and steady win the race."

One foot in front of the other and vice versa. Merlin practically tripped over Andra upon reaching his single-minded destination.

"Ugh…" Andra groaned in pain as Merlin toppled over her and they collapsed into a body-pile of armor and tangled limbs.

"An-Andra?" Merlin asked uncertainty while collecting himself.

Her response was a yellow-alert-flash on his team status roster. She was alive, at the very least.

Merlin pulled himself up from Andra's chest plate, grabbing her shoulder before directing, "Alright, we're going to try a fireman's carry. Can you do that for me?"

"Y-yeah," Andra stammered through gritted teeth. She shuffled her trembling shoulders in acknowledgment.

She laid limp in his arms while he scrambled for a method for lifting her painlessly onto his back. Another pained groan escaped her lips but Merlin could see her blurry legs now, dancing within a clutched arm-grip, wrapping around him. She lacked precise muscle control but she was functioning nonetheless.

"Don't bite down; I don't want you losing teeth."

She hummed in agitation at the comment.

"What now…?" Merlin asked, more to himself than Andra. The panicky sensation was returning, driven by the lack of direction and near-blindness.

Apparently, Andra and maybe her AI had a response to his self-inquiry. Another blue, fuzzy circle appeared in the distance, what looked to be the CIC's far wall, as Andra called out, "Far wall…"

"What's…there?" Merlin wheezed out, squelching his own muscles against the elements working against him. Gravity, Andra's weight, sensory deprivation, nerve spasm, muscle pain. He felt like the mythical Titan god, Atlas, given the punishment to hold Heaven's weight upon his shoulders.

The voice came again, reminding him of his old unit motto. Team Boson. "If I cannot bend the will of Heaven, I will move Hell."

It was right. He huffed repeatedly and began his trek forward to whatever it was. Without knowing, what Andra or her Smart AI saw, he was in the dark. However, he had faith in Andra to guide them home. She was always the sharper-eyed one anyway.

That unit motto stuck with him though, settling in his mind as he wobbled his way in the gray-scaled psychedelic trip around him. It used to motivate him in the training days; it did the same today. The original meaning was lost on him; however, the claim of not being able to do one impossible thing meant he might as well try another.

Keep fighting. That's what it meant at this moment. Therefore, he did. He kept fighting.

Andra's sporadic rasping gave way for a coherent phrase, "Escape pods."

Merlin approached closer, and eventually, his swimming vision parted for boxy-looking structures protruding from the far wall at an angle. A few steps closer, and he could see their forms and the beginnings of intricate details like written warnings in Russian and individual buttons and levers.

Overhead, dull-red warning lights danced in rotary patterns against the titanium walls. Sirens whined just out earshot. A drawling female voice spoke in the quirky Colonial Russian pseudo-dialect, sounding in mild distress. Merlin didn't need to decipher the complex language to recognize the clear and present danger. He was in the muck of it.

The ten longest seconds of Merlin's life ended. His nervous system heaved hotly upon planting a hand against the wall as if he touched a magical power source. The weight of the world fell away and he gasped sweet, sweet air as it raced back into his lungs.

He collapsed onto one knee in relief, nearly dropping Andra on the way down. Merlin matched her rapid, graceful gasps for oxygen as they breathed in harmony, gleefully enjoying the respite. The unimaginable pain they both suffered had lulled. They were free; the pain had been so bad, any injury they previously incurred, retreated into a dull throb.

Merlin kept his grasp on Andra, but shimmied her down his back, allowing her to settle against a pod apparatus for support. He hugged her cautiously, a part of him still uncertain if the violent distortions were over.

"Merlin…" Andra whispered breathlessly, her voice turning impossibly quiet. "The scientists…"

He swiveled his helmet at her comment, maybe a little too fast as he almost toppled over. Even in her injured state, Andra steadied him by clasping his shoulder. Beyond the two disorientated Spartans rested a chaotic field of destruction, transformed by the will of a most primal force.

Merlin blinked rapidly, allowing his stressed capillaries to readjust to the room before him. Crushed terminal stations. Glass from computer screens warped into vapor-like dust that hugged the air as if a sparkling fog. Support and floor structures dented in vigorous ways more akin to crumpled paper than metal. Bodies were strewn across the floor with their clothing and surroundings splattered in deep reds and pinks.

Some of the blood-and-gut-paste left trails behind bodies along the floor, evidence that under the immense pressure, some of the people still willed themselves to survive, if only for a little longer.

"They're all dead," Merlin whispered. "Dead or dying."

Had it not been for their armor, maybe Merlin and Andra would have been bloody pulps too. Merlin shivered at the thought.

"What do you think happened?" Andra looked to Merlin's helmeted face for an answer.

A small indicator tab slid onto Merlin's heads-up display with an innocent, little measurement. 10.61 G.

Ten Gravities.

Merlin repeated the number, "Ten Gravities."

"What?"

"We were pummeled with Ten G's of force. For… Three minutes? We should be dead…"

"Our armor protected us," Andra concluded.

Merlin nodded in silence.

While the Spartans collected themselves, they noted quiet tremors echoing beneath their feet. The sirens and speakers had ceased now, probably more broken than off. It was in that brief period that Merlin remembered he was on a mission and he fired off a brief radio burst, hoping his signal would punch through the radio-resistant walls of Test Station Tsiolkovsky.

"One Big Mama, Myself. Confirm."

Quiet static was Merlin's only radio companion then. A quiet he did not welcome.

Everything about this mission went wrong. The continued lack of response from the UNSC Black Caviar made it no better.

"You need to go, Andra," Merlin said, now lifting her up again with some effort. "I'm not getting any messages from or to the Caviar, you're injured – best you get a message out once you're clear of here."

Merlin tapped the emergency launch-release button next to the nearest escape pod causing the hatch to peel back, revealing a cramped, coffin-like interior.

Andra shook her head and shuffled in Merlin's arms as he laid her down in the pod, bridal-style.

"I-I'm still able enough, and what-whatever you got planned next, with all that's happened already, I don't think leaving you alone is the best idea."

"You don't even know what my plan is, to begin with," Merlin softly countered, he had yet to remove his hands from beneath her battered armor.

"But I know you…" Andra continued, gingerly. "You may have been the intelligence-guy back when we were all still together, but none of Boson were pushovers either. If I have no plan, you probably have little more than that, Merlin! Whatever you're planning, it's better I keep—augh!"

Merlin's arms wrapped protectively around Andra's abdomen as she keeled over again in pain, ceasing her train of thought. Her rapid-fire words had done her in.

Pushing her gently and fully into the pod's interior, Merlin retreated a step from his best friend. "You're really not in any condition to help Andra, whether your suit has you doped up on meds now or not. We came to secure that information. Let me check the Innies, it will only take a few minutes. Get out of here, tell the Caviar what happened, I'll be out shortly."

"That's what the AI was for, dumb-dumbass…" Andra retorted between painful coughs.

"Nothing like human intelligence," Merlin replied, glancing to the strewn out expanse of dead and dying scientists.

Andra didn't say anything, wrapping herself into a protective ball. Her helmet directed away from Merlin, silent.

The male Spartan stood aloof, struggling to formulate a response to placate and reassure his friend.

The half-baked thought never left his lips, however, when another tremor rumbled beneath his feet. Merlin glanced toward the trashed space station CIC and watched as powdered glass and metal shrapnel floated off the floor before returning to the ground. The phenomenon came in waves, washing over the debris and the Spartans repeatedly.

Each distortion of gravity came like a gut-punch, forcing Merlin an inch back with every surge. Andra tightened in on herself, squirming as purred whimpers echoed off her lips. Merlin growled in agitation but found no respite as each wave came with a rise in severity.

Merlin switched off his standalone mode and fired off a network handshake request with Andra's own cybernetic implant. Her response was instantaneous, opening up her mind to him.

The neural connection sputtered with jarring excitement as Merlin's agitation collided with rolling tides from Andra's growing panic. Caught off guard at first, he trod water in her fear. He fired off the most assuring sensation he could muster in the time split; Andra responded by rolling over in his direction within the escape pod interior.

Resolve flared from her end of the connection, a silent thought. Go. Do what you need to.

"You need to go now," Merlin vocalized, pausing for a breath. He attempted to say more but slammed into the facility wall instead.

"Merlin!" Andra shouted in alarm, reaching out in desperation but retracted as the waves reached previous intensities, forcing the two Spartans to double over once more.

The distorted floor ruptured, split by a giant metallic-looking protrusion that rose from the asteroid depths below. The distortions emanating from the object, levitating debris in patterned melodic ways.

"Go! Now Andra! Go!" Merlin yelled to her as his vision began to blur again.

Panic snaked up both ends of the neural network but Andra got the message, finally prioritizing her safety and the mission. She crash-laid back into the pod and with an interior button press, the hatch sealed her in.

Merlin watched from his seated position as her pod gave off a pop-hiss start then rocketed out of its harness, out to dark space beyond.

She was going…gone. Merlin felt, grasped at the last strands of the shared neural net until Andra disappeared beyond reach. What took a second felt like a century and then she wasn't there anymore.

He was alone now.

"Merlin. Stand up. You need to."

The whisper came back with a pinch of urgency. If Merlin didn't know better, the voice almost sounded panicked too.

"Yeah, I figured that…" Merlin chuckled darkly to the voice. Even though he agreed with it, and in a joking manner, he didn't budge. He couldn't will himself through the pain.

"Merlin. Please."

When he did nothing, the voice eventually retreated into silence. The pain was just too raw; he dedicated too much to Andra's escape, he needed another rest.

Somehow, between the distortion waves, he found the inner calm to catch his breath in shallow groupings. It was like treading water.

Like when Andra taught him to swim early into Spartan training, one of those rare moments where she actually exhibited skills above the low standards expected by the drill instructors. Oh, how she proved them all wrong, blossoming into her best, only a couple years later.

The memory of Andra shouting encouraging words to Merlin as he panicked between gulps of water warmed his heart. There he found his drive to fight once again.

He rose, once more onto shaking legs and for once, his swimmy vision retreated to a satisfactory level. He could see, hear. He could fight. Maybe it was his resolve, or maybe, more likely, the waves were retreating in intensity again.

"That's it. You can do it. Rise."

Merlin's eyes focused in on the distortions' origin point, the protruding metallic structure from before. Once past the blurriness and the burning in his eyes, he jumped back, startled.

He wasn't standing atop stable ground anymore. The space station was in tatters, pieces. Metal sheets and reinforcement columns floated sporadically through gravity eddies and invisible currents around him. Beyond cracks in the destroyed station walls, he could even see the darkness of open space.

The protrusion was a much more complete, kilometer-tall object now. A samurai-like helm stared down at Merlin with wide fluorescent-blue eyes and glowing bits. Jagged, sword-like teeth bared at him within a predatory, alien grin. Its body was made of metal, maybe. The strange material glinted and fizzled as if not entirely complete. It appeared as if the surface particles were moving rapidly at the microscope level.

Very few things made Merlin freeze in fear. Mostly because he was inexperienced, but this? This was something entirely different.

Alien. Beastly. Monstrous. A true-to-life leviathan. Merlin was facing down a true cosmic horror. He didn't tinkle himself but he wished he did for the sake of distraction.

He froze stiff as those unflinching eyes bored down upon him, unblinking and dead.

The former floor had transformed into a cliff's edge, leaving Merlin without many maneuvering options. Tsiolkovsky's artificial gravity generators had given up some time ago, according to the free-floating blood in Merlin's veins. The only thing keeping him upright now was his resolve, turned to panic, and his magnetic boots.

The stare down didn't last much longer though. Smaller metallic creatures, vaguely resembling four-legged ants but the size of wolves crawled into view between the giant machine's skeletal plates towards Merlin.

An osmosis collision of oxygenated and vacuum environments robbed Merlin of his natural hearing but he watched the giant metalloid ants snap their heads back and about, flaring their pseudo-jaws and heads as if sniffing the air. When they tilted their heads up and vibrated their beak-like mouths, he imagined them expressing unearthly, mechanical screeches.

While he didn't recognize the giant starship-sized horror, he recognized its affiliation. The resemblance was uncanny under further consideration, but the appearance of Promethean Crawlers was a deciding hint. Forerunner, the machine was Forerunner.

His first proper introduction to the Forerunners, up close. Of course, they had to destroy the place – that seemed to be a running theme with their technology.

"You guys really trashed this place, my mission…" Merlin grumbled at them, of course, they couldn't hear him, much less understand him.

He bared his teeth at the ancient machines, feeling a sense of uncertainty ebbing in his bones, beyond the existential pain brought on by the gravity waves. From the few data drops delivered to Ferret Team Boson over the last year, all Promethean war machines were to be engaged on sight and were susceptible to concentrated gunfire.

He yanked the scavenged MA5C rifle off his back and slapped it into his other hand, leveling it in the general direction of the Crawlers. Quickly shifting between the hosts of potential targets, he wavered putting his finger on the trigger and engaging.

The giant machine and Crawlers weren't outright attacking him. The distortion waves were still waxing and waning and that might play havoc on his combat performance. Alternatively, his weapon might fail him. There were many variables at play here.

Ultimately, Merlin's decision fell to outside forces. The Crawlers kneeled and sprung from their crawling patterns on the giant Forerunner machine and onto the debris field floating about. They continued to patrol and scout out their surroundings as their design mandated supposedly, however, two jumped right at Merlin and caution disappeared with them.

His finger yanked down on the trigger and Merlin let loose the fresh magazine of thirty-caliber bullets. The gun kicked in his arms but he barely felt it as orange sparks danced across the closest Crawler's lunging form.

Holes, glowing with orange light, rippled into giant cracks on its body before it finally gave in and the machine exploded into particles and twisted metal. The Crawler's body slowed as its inertia did and it eventually zoomed off to join the rotating currents of space station debris.

Half his magazine spent, Merlin let go of the MA5C's trigger and ducked as the second Crawler zoomed over his head and planted itself against the wall to his back.

"Shit," Merlin cursed and rolled to the side. He locked in on the second Crawler and wasted the rest of his magazine into it. It crumpled under the onslaught and joined its fallen brother in the maelstrom.

Taking two more steps back, Merlin clambered over Andra's spent escape pod launcher and moved to the next one along the wall. Leaning atop the tube, he twirled the MA5C while pushing down on the magazine release. The spent container zipped out of the rifle's magazine well and joined the space station debris, taken by the gravity currents.

Merlin slapped a new magazine in and smacked the charging handle as more Crawlers zeroed in on his position and began to stalk toward him through the swirling debris field. If Merlin hadn't been a threat to them before, he was definitely one now.

The Spartan continued to engage them with sporadic gunfire while slapping the wall behind him, blindly searching for the pod door release. He refused to die like this, biting off more than he could chew. He owed himself that; he owed Andra that.

Crawlers splashed into orange bursts of light, crumbling under Merlin's continuous gunfire but instead of targeting him with their own mouth-held weapons or even jumping him, they corrected course and landed meters from his position, once more among unstable columns of debris.

Merlin's rifle ceased firing again, once again spent. He quickly reloaded but stopped engaging, realizing the Crawlers weren't looking to him anymore. They were actually trotting and jumping away, finding more interest in something else. In a second split, he was already an afterthought.

His eyes trailed after the Crawlers, following their united paths and gazes to a distant blurry object hiding among the debris field. It was unlike the metallic blacks and whites that dominated the rest of his surroundings; instead, it was a rust-like brown. Very different from the other Wealthian architecture around him.

And then it flared harshly, as blinding as a nuclear flash, actually blinding Merlin even as he threw up a hand and his helmet polarized fully to withstand the light.

For a very real second, Merlin thought it was a nuclear weapon. This was going to be his grave after all. On the other hand, a second passed and he wasn't radioactive toast. There was a lot of light, an apparent radiation spike, and he didn't go splat against a wall or anything. His boots remained locked to the floor.

Instead, the gravity distortions suddenly ceased with a very audible pop. Merlin still couldn't see, or rather, his entire vision was dark. He wasn't blind. His armor was functioning and his visor was only partially polarized.

Merlin willed an environmental scanner sheet to pop up on his heads-up display. His eyes skimmed the digital page looking for anything particular but found nothing. Then he did, his eyes freezing on a certain radiation reading.

Cherenkov radiation.

Another pop. Another flash. Merlin shielded his eyes again to no success, but this time he felt an extreme sucking sensation and his vision filled with an intense onslaught of colorful light.

Natural gravity took hold again, spinning around him. Merlin kept his eyes shut but recognized the dominating color just outside of his eyelids as blue. A deep, sky blue.

A low whistling roared in his ears as gusts whipped around his combat armor. He felt himself falling but didn't dare look. Blue still dominated the seeping light show outside.

Merlin hit something hard. His dulled aches returned, flaring in agitation before dulling again into a deep, sluggish soup. Everything faded into black, and remained like that, for a long while.

. . .

Merlin's dreams echoed with the cacophony of gunfire and battle.

Andra was kneeling behind him, her M395 DMR pounding away bullet after bullet, while he held up a curved Forerunner-style shield constructed from blue-colored hard light, protecting them both.

"Another frag," Andra yelled-groaned as a small pineapple-style M9 grenade flew out from behind a toppled server box.

Two bullets zipped at the explosive, one missing, the other finding its target. The grenade popped into a burst of smoke and light but little else as the bullet smashed the casing before the chemical fuse could detonate.

Merlin expected another burst of hostile gunfire from the Wealthian unit hunkered down before them. He didn't expect the second grenade.

"Grenade!" Andra shouted in alarm before she started jittering about; kicking her legs to press herself further into the cubical for cover. The disjointed, amateurish behavior caught Merlin off guard and he looked back to his teammate out of concern.

Rookie mistake.

The little orb rolled between Merlin's legs and past his shield, collecting itself between the kneeling Merlin and sitting Andra.

"Oh shit!" Merlin panicked. He bailed forward as his hard light shield collapsed into nothing. Caught in a frenzy, his brain could do nothing but yell at him about how screwed he was.

Andra in her own confounded fit lunged forward. Landing right on the grenade, she pressed her stomach and arms around it to form a rudimentary container.

The grenade exploded with a nasty crackle like fireworks, causing a ringing to erupt in Merlin's ears. He couldn't hear but he saw it all, looking back. The smoke, the little bits of zipping shrapnel, Andra's energy shields collapsing in a sparkling-golden display.

A heart-wrenching, primal scream of pain escaped her lips as little holes and cuts formed in her suit's soft sections. Pellets popped beneath her skin, leaving deep gashes through tissue and muscle. Her armor stopped the pressure wave but couldn't protect her from the shaped steel.

All Merlin could do was rise on his knees from the ground, refocus his hard light shield while gunfire erupted before him again. He blocked the bullets but looked back to his fallen friend, attempting to scream her name. Nothing came out.

Her gasping screams just continued, on and on it went until it sounded the same as white noise. Merlin could do nothing but watch, frozen, as she shuddered in pain, just out of reach.

He couldn't protect her. She just withered there, stuck and alone. She shouldered it all alone, her pain, and his pain.

He failed her.

"Merlin."

That whisper was back.

"Merlin!"

What? What did it want?

"Wake up!"

"Uh…uh…Ugh! What-what is it?" Merlin sluggishly woke with a start, feeling his arms push through the thick space around him. It felt resistant, like a deep soup.

He startled himself half to death when a light-orange-and-green tropical fish zipped by his helmet visor and into the deep blue yonder beyond.

Deep blue yonder. Bubbles of gas rose from his slow, imprecise movements towards an endless lighter-blue film above. A sparkling circle danced above the waves, beyond them.

Merlin was beneath an ocean.

"We need to move now, Spartan!"

That urgent whisper again. What was that? The AI?

Merlin looked around him for the source of the voice but he didn't get far.

"Forget about that right now. You need to go a hundred and thirty-two meters to your right, right now! We've got a pair of water bogeys inbound."

"Bogeys?"

"Listen!"

Merlin went silent, doing so. Drawn out clicks, zaps, and zips. Complex noise patterns.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"What do you think? It's Morse code!"

"What do—"

He listened a little closer and noted the drawn-out noises included rapid short notes as well. They sounded intentional, detailed. Short and long to designate certain letters and numbers. Morse code. He wasn't exactly sure what the 'bogeys' were saying but it was enough to get his ass moving.

Merlin sprinted, or whatever sprinting entailed, three stories beneath the ocean's surface moving at a snail's pace in a half-ton suit of titanium.

It took a long time, pushing through the thick blue shifting into a cool brown. He climbed over metal debris, rocks, and coral. He passed through undersea sand dunes and clouds of disturbed dust. He clambered up a sheer cliff face.

He marched over sandbars and through thigh-deep water and sticky submarine sands that dragged his armored boots.

Frantic, confused, and tired. Merlin limped toward a beach guarded by a thick line of pointy trees. If not in his delirious state, he might have claimed it a tropical paradise; whether true or not was another matter. His vision was swimming again; he could feel the burning weakness in his muscles, in his bones. He focused in on reaching the white-sanded beach.

Step by step. He collapsed finally, one metal boot punched into wet sand and another just barely underwater, submerged and surrounded by awash seashells.

He slipped, collapsed onto his side, quivering and breathing heavily. Just breathing, he focused then on that.

The gentle, feminine whisper returned once more. "Shh, Merlin. You're all right now; you're safe. I'll keep watch. Sleep. Shh."

Return to Top

Chapter Five: Beckett Blues

Andra

2034 Hours, 02 November 2558

UNSC Flagship Infinity

Location Unknown

Andra almost died of fright upon wandering by Frendsen’s officer suite two days after her debriefing regarding Operation: RUNIT DOME.

She respected her superior officer but her knowledge of him extended little due to their infantile working relationship. He seemed professional but weird, with his fascination for paper documents and college professor antics, not that Andra knew anything about professors.

His visitation rules were strange too; knock before entering and always request meetings in advance. However, he did request her presence two hours ago, so when she heard glass shatter from his ajar door, she tossed formality to the wind and barged in.

She felt like a fool upon crashing an officers’ meeting between Frendsen and his guests, Captain Thomas Lasky, and Lieutenant Commander Vilda Stenbeck.

Frendsen rose from his desk so fast, his chair screeched along the plastic floor and he appeared to pop up like a sentient turnip. “Andra?”

Her face turned pale, realizing she just made a nasty mistake. She glanced between the three officers, all far and above her reproach. Captain Lasky eyes drifted between the young Spartan and the shattered glass of alcohol on the floor, once in hand. Stenbeck was leaning forward, towards the Captain as if emphasizing a point but straightened at the sight of Andra dressed in civilian attire.

Everyone was quiet, everyone was staring.

“Uh, apologizes for the intrusion. Sirs. Ma’am. I’ll take my leave and come back when my commander isn’t busy.” Andra rattled off a rushed apology to the high-ranking military personnel, spun on her heel and made for the door.

“Wait-wait-wait,” Stenbeck called and Andra obeyed, pausing with a shoulder glance. “Stay, it’s not an issue.”

“Stenbeck, this is not the time to be discussing those things. Especially in front of personnel without appropriate security clearance, or an open door.” The Captain started, straightening his back.

“To be honest, Captain. Screw security clearance. Screw the chain of command. We’re on the run. Who cares if one Spartan hears about a weapon system that is technically less secret than her own existence?”

Captain Lasky turned to Andra again as she stiffened under his tired, brown-eyed gaze. “I’m sorry to give you a scare Spartan…”

“Spartan-D054.” She supplied.

“Last name, Spartan.” Apparently, Lasky was a people person, not much for the formalities of ONI or secret, augmented child-soldiers. She appreciated that, especially when she wasn’t in uniform.

“Kearsarge,” Andra stated, just a little bit proud of her deceased mother’s maiden name.

“Spartan Kearsarge, you’re dismissed. I’ll have Frendsen call you back in a little bit.”

“Sir,” Andra saluted the Captain and went to do the same to the two Lieutenant Commanders but stopped upon meeting Stenbeck’s blood-freezing glare. The Spartan’s voice retreated into a gurgled silence. Frendsen made no noise, glancing between his Spartan subordinate and the two other officers occupying his quarters.

“Lieutenant Commander…” Lasky’s level tone spiked just a hint, insinuating the fine line the ONI officer walked.

“Sir, you’re the highest-ranked officer on Infinity, the highest-ranking in the task force. Earth has gone dark. We can’t communicate with FLEETCOM, as it stands, our own networks are compromised to Cortana. We need to deploy our INKVs now, while they still haven’t been intercepted by the Created.”

“And what, risk Infinity’s position, or the recovery points we’re establishing on the Frontier for our away teams? I can’t risk it.”

“We have enough launch stations scattered across the Frontier. Sea-launch and installation-based NOVAs. The Prowler Corps is probably already lined up and ready, we can have target solutions in hours!” Stenbeck continued to push the Captain.

“I’m not going to do it. I will not jeopardize Infinity over potentially compromised nukes. That’s my final word on that,” Lasky countered at his subordinate, genuine frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Consider this meeting over. Muster your team and have them ready for deployment, I don’t want to hear another word of this, Stenbeck. I mean it.”

The Lieutenant Commander’s face was an outright scowl as her eyes squinted into narrow slips at the UNSC Infinity’s steadfast Captain. Her lips oozed with vindication. “Understood. Your orders, Captain. I’ll see myself out.”

Andra pedaled frantically to the side to let the rage-filled naval officer pass unchallenged out of the suite. The officer’s legs shifted robotically, a stiff shuffling of her hips out the room. She didn’t know Stenbeck well, even with RUNIT DOME, but it seemed Frendsen’s warnings about her were right. Best stay clear.

Captain Lasky watched her leave, a narrow-eyed grimace on his face until she disappeared out the door and around the corner all the way until her footsteps no longer echoed. Content, he placed a hand to his forehead and glanced at the two other occupants of Frendsen’s quarters.

“My apologies for that Frendsen, I should have kept a better grip on my glass. Allow me to clean it up.”

“No problem, Captain,” Frendsen said, moving out from behind his cluttered work desk to pull a broom and dustpan from a small side closet. He joined the Captain to kneel by the scattered mess of glass shards on the ground and handed the officer the cleaning items.

“Thank you,” the Captain stated and proceeded to sweep the mess up in a matter of minutes.

The entire time Andra watched them work, wide-eyed. She wasn’t familiar with officer protocol, but she imagined herself at a sort-of zoo, watching these two naval officers hover over a pile of broken glass and the remains of melted ice.

Once assorted, the glass and ice were tossed in the plastic dustbin underneath Frendsen’s desk, the cleaning tools were placed back in the cupboard, and Lasky went for the door.

“Apologies again, Frendsen. Spartan Kearsarge,” The Captain acknowledged, stopping at the doorway. “I’ll see myself out; and one other thing, Frendsen.”

“Yes, Captain?” Frendsen nodded to the superior with his arms clasped comfortably behind him.

“That drink, it's good. Remind me, what was it?”

“Jameson Irish Whiskey. 2529.”

“Four years into the War,” Lasky nodded with a thoughtful frown, considering the age of the golden-brown bottle sitting atop Frendsen’s desk. “I was nineteen then; a lifetime ago.”

He said waved and exited the room, leaving Frendsen alone with Andra.

The Spartan and ONI Lieutenant Commander said nothing in the meantime, listening to the Captain’s footsteps disappear around the corner. Once quiet, Frendsen crossed the room and stopped at the door-side control panel. With a button press, the suite door slid shut, leaving the remaining occupants to their privacy.

Andra said nothing, waiting patiently for her superior’s next words. He slid back behind his desk, pulled his chair close to the table, and settled his dark-skinned hands on the desk in a comfortable grip among a sea of vanilla paper. A small, generous smile graced his jaw while Andra stared back aloofly at the center of the room.

Clearly, he wouldn’t talk first.

“So… What are INKVs?” The female Spartan asked, crossing her arms.

The Lieutenant Commander’s smile tugged a bit south, but he answered anyway. “Humanity’s spear after the Covenant War. Next-generation missiles equipped with Slipspace drives and the biggest bombs ever built. Intended for destroying Covenant worlds if they decided to continue the War.”

Andra’s eyes fluttered at the explanation. Entire planets? She couldn’t fathom that.

“Why didn’t we use them, to begin with? Get our revenge?”

“Because if our species is to have a future, it needs to move forward. Not get bogged down by old grudges. We were the dominant galactic civilization until a few days ago. No point in destroying our defeated enemies.”

“And now?”

“Stenbeck is desperate. No one knows what to do now. We’re just running until we figure something out.”

“Then let’s just nuke the Created. Weaken them.” Andra frowned, seeing the problem and solution promptly.

“And what of the billions of alien and human lives we destroy in the process? It’s not a gamble the Captain wants to take, and neither do I. And you shouldn’t want it either.”

Andra hummed at the explanation but said nothing more on the matter. It seemed even a stringent man like Frendsen could loosen a little when the galaxy was falling apart around him.

“Enough about that now, I called you in here because I have some news.”

Andra’s eyebrows rose, doubt evident. Hard to feel anything worse or better when your best friend was possibly dead, and civilization was on the brink of destruction. “What is it?”

“The prowler Beckett reported back that they recovered Team Xiphos. They’re returning to Infinity as we speak.”

“Josh and Amy are okay?”

“I don’t know; the message was spotty. I know Xiphos though, they’ve been in tough spots before.”

That was good news, or at least, the best news Andra received in more than seventy hours. Her seniors were alive and kicking. Joshua-G024 and Amy-G094 trained Andra and her friends after they graduated from SPARTAN-III Delta Company. As a pair of Gamma Company Headhunters, they were among the deadliest Spartan teams alive. They were likely just fine.

Amy could be aloof and distant but warm outside training. She didn’t show much favoritism, but she treated everyone fairly and worked Boson hard. Andra got along with her.

Joshua, on the other hand, was often cold and distant, but showed Andra special treatment, always showering her with appropriate praise and tutoring her in everything he could. He was the older brother she never had.

More so when he busted Merlin’s ribs last year; Andra still winced at that thought. Her fingers pinched her shirt fabric while thinking about Merlin and Joshua in the same thought. The two didn’t get along but they did have something in common that they cherished: Andra. The two saw something when others passed her over as insignificant. They believed in her and she loved them both for it, and more.

Frendsen continued to watch over his subordinate as a million emotions and thoughts flashed through her eyes. Droplets glistened at the edges, as hope and a rare smile overwhelmed the young girl. “Thank you for informing me, sir.”

“No problem, Spartan. That said, they won’t be back until three or four hundred hours. That’s more than six hours away, think you can handle the wait?”

“Well, there’s only so much you can do aboard Infinity dressed as a civilian.”

Frendsen tilted his head at the statement. “What have you been up to?”

“Making my bed. Arguing with Roland. PT-ing on my own around the ship. Drawing. Sleeping,” Andra counted off with extended fingers. “Five items I guess.”

Frendsen nodded quietly in thought and looked to his table of controlled chaos. His eyes held there for an uncounted number of seconds. Andra curiously watched him while timidly tugging at her tee shirt’s hemline.

“Do you have something to do between now and then?” Frendsen asked, looking back at the Spartan.

“I could head back to my quarters and change into coveralls and see if Commander Palmer has any open slots for War Games. Or maybe just go catch some shuteye, whatever I can get anyway…”

“Will you?”

“No idea. Sleep hasn’t come easy, the last two days.”

“I understand,” Frendsen glanced back to his desk, “you can also loiter here if you like. I have a Sci Deck datapad you can borrow.”

“Egg-board.” Andra’s eyebrows knitted together but a half-smirk twitched on her lips.

“Egg-board?” Frendsen repeated with a questioning eyebrow.

“Palmer calls them that. Eggheads, scientists. Egg-boards, datapads.”

“I didn’t need to know that,” Frendsen said, shifting two desk piles aside to unearth a dusty computer tablet.

“Okay,” Andra replied smartly, wiping the tugging smile from her lips. Her eyes trailed Frendsen as he swiped at the device screen, sending tiny particles freckling through the stale starship air.

“Here,” Frendsen passed the datapad to Andra before sitting down behind his desk and scooting in. “I got several more intel packages to go through, so try to keep disturbances to a minimum. You can take the couch there.”

Andra took the officer’s offer and moved to a plain-style synthetic leather couch in the corner, double-tapping the screen to power it up.

“What you going to do?” Frendsen asked without looking up from his paperwork while the Spartan girl skimmed through system programs.

“Watch Odd One Out,” Andra stated without pause.

“That WayPoint children’s show?” Frendsen asked in disbelief.

Andra expected that reaction; it was hard to imagine a Spartan enjoying a children’s show. But she was a child, technically. If there was anything important that her previous commander taught Andra, it was to hold dear to her childhood. And even as a Spartan, that was what she did.

“I like Spartan-1337, he’s funny.” She added without looking up.

Frendsen glanced up at Andra for a few seconds before disappearing again into his paperwork. She allowed herself a small smile, claiming a tiny personal victory over the often-aloof commanding officer.

The room’s only noise came from Frendsen’s jumbled desk, a smattering of stapler clicks, paper shuffling, and the occasional pencil scratch. Andra didn’t make any noise herself, curled up stealthily on the sofa. She eased herself into the antics of a cartoon Spartan on her clasped datapad while noises of battle and poor jokes rattled off in her head via neural implant.

A warm fuzzy feeling heaved in her chest with silent laughter, but it did not reach her face. It was a good moment, but one that could be better. If only Merlin were here, sharing this moment of animated reruns with her. Tri-O was his show too.

. . .

Andra leaned into her right hip, relaxing her impatient nerves after standing sharp for over thirty minutes. Her eyes lazily traced the rigid bumps and fixtures that populated the far-off ceiling of Hangar Seventeen.

Frendsen stood calmly next to her, occasionally checking for emails on the same datapad Andra used earlier to watch anime Spartans. On the hangar’s other end, a mismatching fireteam of five SPARTAN-IVs maintained security under the watchful eye of a helmetless Commander Sarah Palmer.

In another time, Captain Lasky might have joined the welcoming party to meet their guests, however, security circumstances and pressing command duties seemed to regulate the usually personable Captain to the bridge and personal quarters. At least that was what Fireteam Kodiak and Palmer had been yapping about five minutes ago.

Now they waited, settling in a loose gathering by some storage crates. Andra examined their armor sets with a passing interest, quizzing herself on the different panels and plates bolted onto their tech-suit frames. Between the lack of consistency and subtle differences in their colorations, it reminded Andra a little of her own unit’s preferences.

Due to the continued military-industrial complex after the Covenant War and the relaxed regulations of the Spartan Branch, Andra occasionally witnessed the bemusing phenomenon of a SPARTAN-IV in hot pink armor. Sometimes it was the aftermath of a devilish prank, and other times, it was completely intentional.

Gratefully, nobody dressed as such this morning. Commander Palmer’s angry fits were noteworthy.

Andra’s own armor never reached such outlandish feats. Instead, hers was a dirty, mundane mix of white and black splotches with acquiesced gear from the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers that she made sure never to parade around in. It wasn’t worth drawing the attention of any book-throwing superior officer with an eye for sharp uniforms.

“Andra, Xiphos is back.” Frendsen softly announced, looking up from his clutched datapad.

She gave her superior a nod and examined the black void dotted with distant stars before her. Guarded by a vibrant energy shield, the edges of her vision were tinted blue from electrified particles. Andra scanned the vacuum looking for a warping blur of starlight as a darkish, semi-transparent balloon passing by them.

From the one or two times she visited aboard Team Xiphos’s personal prowler, the Private Property, Andra developed a familiarity for the stealth trick. She wondered where it was now; probably lost like so many other ships to Created incursions across human space days after Cortana announced her imperialist annexation of the galaxy.

She blinked for a moment, holding back a wetting, early tear for Merlin and for the bands of refugees forming temporary settlements in the hangars and halls of the Infinity. In the corner of her squinting left eye, she caught the tell-tale sign of the Beckett arriving.

“I see them,” Andra said, a little louder than Frendsen’s previous statement, drawing the attention of the other Spartans.

“Now…?” One of the Kodiak members called from their makeshift seat only to stand alertly when the space at the edge of Hangar Seventeen flickered like refractions off pool water that peeled back into a hexagonal weave revealing a jet-black, titanium hull of the most alien-looking specimen among human warships, a Sahara-class prowler. The UNSC Beckett.

The hangar intercom thundered to life as Roland announced the ship’s presence, “Captain Lasky, the captain of Beckett requests permission to offload their wounded and restock on supplies.”

“Granted, Roland. Palmer, please see to their needs, anything they need for continued long-term operations.” Lasky responded while passing jurisdiction of the prowler to the Spartan commander.

“Will do, Captain,” Palmer called back as the jet-black ship drew closer, slipping past the great blue field holding back the empty vacuum of space. Upon passing the shield, the low hum of the prowler’s maneuvering thrusters rumbled through the air.

Titanium hangar floor met titanium ship body with a screech and click, subtle docking links locking into place. The anterior door located at the Beckett’s bow hissed, sliding down to reveal a ramp and a team of Navy corpsmen and ONI Security contractors waiting in the airlock. The security troopers stepped aside briskly allowing the corpsmen to plow down the ramp in a frantic throng, dragging a large cryogenic storage device on a gurney into the hangar space; the kind of storage unit intended for severely injured individuals.

“Oh shit,” Andra mouthed off, chilling fear curling around her heart, “Who’s that? Are they okay?”

“Spartan-G094. We need to get her to an intensive care unit immediately, she’s barely stabilized on ice.” A corpsman called as Andra and Frendsen approached the freezing casket.

Commander Palmer acted quickly, gesturing to Fireteam Kodiak. “Kodiak, two keep guard. Two come with me to the Beckett. One goes with Lieutenant Commander Frendsen and prep the operating table for G094.”

“Ma’am,” The members of Kodiak briskly said in varied unison and moved to their respective order stations. One of Kodiak joined Andra and Frendsen at the medical pod’s side along with the medical team, pushing their reinforced gurney along towards the loading elevator at the hangar’s rear.

And for Andra, she shoved passed the corpsmen and stopped the cart in its tracks. She stared wildly into the frosty, curved window separating her from the occupant within. She recognized the bludgeoned and dented armor below. Steel-colored plates patterned over a scarred-up Spartan tech suit. Dulled white polygons marked with clotting purple alien and red human blood. A cracked PATHFINDER helmet with a heavily scratched yellowish visor.

This was Amy-G094, bloody and beaten inches from death. Was that even possible?

Andra planted her hands against the cold glass, pressing into it to feel the cold bite against them, a reminder of this bleak reality. She curled her fingers into fists and glared menacingly at the nearest corpsman.

“Josh! Where’s Josh?” She demanded, reaching out and gripping the man by shoulders, lifting him into the air and atop the casket.

“Petty Officer!” Frendsen shouted behind Andra but she didn’t listen, she wanted to know. Right. Now.

“We-we don’t know! He wasn’t aboard the escape pod where we found G094. We checked the area around their transponder and found nothing!”

“You left him for dead!” She growled viciously at the shivering corpsman; in any other scenario, it might have been funny, a teenage girl making a medic piss his pants.

“We were out there for two days! Any longer and we risked pirates or Created zeroing in on us!”

“Ugh,” Andra grunted at his insufficient response, lightly tossing the man into the medical casket before letting him go.

The escorting Kodiak member seized Andra’s shoulder, yanking her back a step while pressing down with an armored gauntlet. “Spartan, stand down.”

Frendsen took that moment to yell at his subordinate. “Andra, you’re out of order! Stand down!”

Andra eyed the SPARTAN-IV with the greatest volume of malice she could muster. She reached deep, drawing from the fears of Merlin’s demises, the rage of missing Joshua, the shock of Amy’s injuries, her trained distaste for SPARTAN-IVs as fake Spartans.

Her nose wrinkled up at the seven-foot-supersoldier and violently yanked her shoulder from his tight grasp. It stung, probably left a bruise, but it felt good. Fuck this. Screw all these people and the whole universe for taking those she loved away from her.

Andra backpedaled, slipped around Frendsen who sidestepped out of her warpath. She sprinted towards the cargo elevator and didn’t look back at the gathering of UNSC personnel. She didn’t dare let them hear the violent heaves giving way to the stream of tears rolling down her cheeks.

She barely heard Frendsen yelling up a storm behind her, “Spartan-D054, get back here!”

. . .

Andra waited until her wardroom’s sliding door clicked shut to unfurl her coiled rage. Hot tears rained down her cheeks as she gritted her teeth together and clutched her hoodie and hair against her temples.

Hot air hissed from the back of her throat against her locked jaws, pressuring against the walls until she let the painful roar leave her lips with a gasp. “Ah-uhh!”

She sputtered, coughing as loose saliva slipped into her airway. Settling down in momentary silence, Andra caught her breath but a fire still raged beneath her skin.

A casual glance to the side led her to cross the room from the doorway to the hanger rack at her bedside. A cruel grimace marked up Andra’s face as she approached the few assorted clothing items waiting at attention: her depowered Spartan tech suit and coveralls, a dusty naval parade uniform she hadn’t touched in a year, three sets of civilian clothes from her old studio apartment in New Phoenix, and her used hospital gown from the operating room.

She ripped the hospital gown from its coat hanger, creating a clacking of metal hangar against its metal hanging bar. She hooked the fabric between her two hands and examined it disinterestedly, noting the loose ribbons of cotton and bioplastics hanging around its newly destroyed collar.

Andra grabbed the two shoulder points in the gown and pulled in opposite directions. A thud-popping noise rippled as sown thread weaves frayed apart in her pale-white grips. The hospital gown came apart neatly, like torn tissue paper, leaving two bundled messes hanging from her hands.

She huffed to herself, tossing the two bundles to Merlin’s unoccupied bunk and didn’t dare look back at the destruction she left. She glared back at the hanger rack for the next thing to shred apart. Her hand sailed up and latched onto the dusty-looking, white Navy parade uniform.

She was certain she was going to rip it; so certain she could imagine the seams getting cut between her fingers and her throwing the few ribbons and service medals from the fabric so hard they embedded in the wall behind her.

Andra let go of the uniform, her hand falling lamely to her side. No, she wouldn’t go that far. She didn’t need that incident on her already spotty record, and explaining why she destroyed her uniform to Frendsen wouldn’t be enjoyable.

She twisted around to face her well-made bed, fresh from yesterday’ s scrutinous morning ritual as she had done so for the last week. During the pseudo-nights, she’d decimate the covers to get a good night’s sleep but during the pseudo-day snoozes, she’d curl up on Merlin’s bunk to avoid destroying her meticulous work.

She began her early morning routine three hours early, raging at her bed in a grand adventure of reconstituting her well-made hospital corners and perfectly formed sheets.

She layered the sheets on top of one another, formed her corner triangles, secured the loose fabric, and fluffed her pillow into a decent rectangle. And it looked all wrong, as usual.

“Before you consider tearing up your bed again, maybe you’d consider discussing what’s eating at you Spartan?”

“Roland, get out!” Andra yelled without glancing up from the developing bedding disaster.

The golden Smart AI’s human-sized avatar flickered into existence just over the Spartan’s shoulder. He took a few steps from his projector origin point into the room, stopping to stand in Andra’s peripheral.

“Hey,” Roland softly prodded, accepting none of the girl’s hostility. “I’ve come by every morning since you got discharged. I’ve given you space but I’ve also kept my eye out for yah, and right now, it's looking like you need someone to talk to.”

Letting go over her bedsheets, Andra sighed in half-hearted defeat and eyed the hologram with red-stained eyes and puffy cheeks. “What do you want Roland? Can’t you see I want to be left alone.”

“I think you need someone to talk to right now, and you’ve managed to piss off everyone that I can immediately identify that might give you a shoulder to weep on, so, I’m all you’ve got.”

“Yeah, Frendsen can be upset if he wants to. I don’t give a fat shit.”

“You manhandled a medic; I think his anger is at least justified.”

“They left Joshua out there to die. He’s dead because of them!”

“They tried their best,” Roland corrected in a slow tone, careful not to set the Spartan girl off. “The Created is hunting all of us now, we can’t risk losing an entire prowler for one missing corpse. I’m really sorry for your loss, I can tell you cared deeply for him.”

“You said corpse,” Andra’s eyes narrowed. “What are you trying to say? That he was long dead before they got there?”

The Smart AI sighed, bringing a transparent hand to his eyes. “Yes, I’m saying Spartan-G024 died four days before the Beckett recovered Spartan-G094.”

“How do you know this?” Andra demanded, standing up to her full height, towering just a couple inches over the golden hologram. Roland didn’t budge from his spot.

“G094’s suit recorder confirmed Spartan-G024 died of brain hypoxia following a breach in his vacuum suit. I’m really sorry Spartan, he was long dead before the recovery team could reach him.”

Andra was quiet for a long time, staring down at the floor, processing this load of heavy-hitting information. She wrongly blamed the medical personnel and the crew of the UNSC Beckett for failing to save Joshua, Andra could accept that error but she was still burning on an emotional high. Tears were still dripping over her wardroom’s matted floor.

“I’m sorry, alright? I’m deal-dealing with a lot of crap right now. All my friends are missing or out of reach. My parents are dead. I lost Merlin. I lost Joshua. Amy’s in a coma. The universe is taking everyone and everything I’ve ever cared about from me, one by one! Everything I’ve been fighting for; its all gone.”

Roland watched Andra mumble through her demons, nodding slowly in understanding. There wasn’t anything he could say that would make the situation better and he wasn’t corporeal, he didn’t have a physical body to wrap this emotionally decimated child in a hug. All he could give her was his presence and a figurative ear to listen.

“Roland,” Andra sniffled after a while of silent tears, “where are they keeping Amy’s armor?”

“You’re talking about the helmet footage?”

Andra nodded without looking up at the Smart AI’s projection.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea Spartan. I’ve reviewed the footage… I would advise against looking at it right now.”

“For once Roland, just fucking tell me. I don’t want to hear you talk about rules. Just tell me.”

“I can have a recorder copy delivered here if you like,” Roland offered but Andra cut him off.

“No! Her armor, I want to see it! None of this protective bullshit, I’m a Spartan. I’ve faced Death before, I can handle myself. Just tell me where I can find the damn recorder,” she paused, glaring confidently behind tearful pupils into the golden projection’s concerned, wide fake-eyes. “Please Roland.”

Return to Top

Chapter Six: On That Beach

Merlin

Daylight Local Time, 02 November 2558

Tsiolkovsky Crash Site

Location Unknown

“Merlin, wake up.”

Andra’s distant, dreamful voice echoed across the fuzzy darkness, tugging lightly at her slumbering friend’s conscience. It was warm and quiet. He shivered and squinted his barely aware eyelids, refusing the call.

He felt warm here. “Just a little longer,” he mumbled.

“Merlin, you need to wake up.”

He grumbled, attempting to turn over in bed away from his friend’s voice but an invisible weight held him down, immobilizing him in place. Like a heavy suit of armor.

“Merlin. Wake. Up.”

His eyelids fluttered open, blinking away at the soft golden light passing through his helmet visor as the cold, abrupt urgency of Andra’s voice shook him awake. He let himself go again; Andra was going to berate him. Frendsen too, if he was present.

“I’m up, I’m up.” He called in defeat, tilting his head forward at the neck only to find an impractical resistance.

Some semblance of reality kicked in. He was in Spartan armor; the suit wasn’t responding to his bodily commands. Odd, and very bad news. He scanned his enclosed helmet periphery, taking stock of the wiring and electronic components keeping his visual acuity and armor functioning at a reasonable threshold.

The circuitry and internals seemed intact, at least to his limited observation. An examination of the visor twisted Merlin’s curious gapped lips into a grimace at the cusp of uttering a violent curse.

Water droplets dripped down the visor surface. Amongst dry patches, evaporated water left splotched salt deposits. Some scarring from contacting coarse surfaces appeared to have left blurry scuff marks and the beginning of fractures across the resilient screen.

His visor had seen better days, and that was an understatement. Merlin summoned his heads-up display and smiled wistfully when familiar blue icons flared to life before his eyes. At least his user interface still functioned. A diagnostic check assured he still retained a good suit seal; another temporary relief.

“Forget your armor for a minute, look at the sea!” A waypoint winked to life beyond Merlin’s current gaze, stealing his attention before abstract questions could leave his lips.

He craned his neck, lifting the combined weight of the Heavens and Atlas upon his jugular. Merlin blinked through the strain, refusing to acknowledge his exhausted mind and body for just a moment more. He fought with all his might for a view beyond the bright blue sky and puffy white clouds taunting him overhead.

He grunted, finally catching sight of a rising sun on the horizon and the eclipsing silhouette of something massive bloating it out. Merlin blinked, stunned at what his eyes were trying to process.

The familiar, gigantic Forerunner machine protruded from the open sea as agitated white water nipped at its metallic ribs, rising from submerged depths. Light refracted between the floating chunks of alien metal painting a giant space owl’s skeleton against the glaring horizon as typical fluorescent blue lights flickered across its form, powering back up.

Whatever had happened when Merlin hit the water, the machine had gone under too.

“What is that thing?” Merlin asked, his eyes glued to the kilometer-tall alien machine.

“Well, its Forerunner… Hmm, it's talking…confused?” Andra mumbled an incoherent reply.

“Andra?” Something felt distinctly off about this situation and this conversation.

Andra’s voice paused for a full second, considering Merlin’s million-thoughts-in-a-single-word-dilemma.

“I’m not Andra,” she, the voice, responded. Merlin noted something odd in the tone. Besides that, it sounded uncannily like his teammate. The voice sounded high pitched, shaky, but firm. It could have corresponded to a dozen different emotions but the way it seemed; the voice sounded uncertain about something and in a very-unlike-Andra-way.

He didn’t get a chance to request clarification, the giant Forerunner machine cleared the blue waters and rose into the open air. The air vibrated hazardously around Merlin, even though his armor, something about the pressures and pinpricks on and below his tech suit felt off.

There was a current in the air, like crawling humidity before a rainstorm, but it touched Merlin’s sealed body too. The sensation came with a quiet rumbling but nothing like the suffocating energy on the space station from before. He winced involuntarily at that fresh, incoherent memory.

The sky gleamed and sparkled around the giant machine, sunlight refracting through long cast shadows and levitating water particles. Merlin squinted into the giant machine’s shadow, searching for its familiar, toothy grin but quickly realized the wings were fading in and out of the silhouette’s form; it was turning about. The face was already directed elsewhere.

Completing its rotation, the machine froze, hovering motionless in place. Merlin watched on in silence, unable to break away from the spectacle that managed to steal his breath and his understanding.

The machine’s body abruptly flashed a bright cyan color, glaring like a second sun within a sun, followed by a shockwave, milliseconds after. Merlin braced instinctually, ready for the wave of disturbed particles to wash over him like on the Wealthian space station.

It punched him in the gut immediately, forcing one of his supporting arms to buckle. However, his suit wasn’t obeying his motions anymore, his arm twitched free from the sandy ground, causing him to topple back. Compensating with the other arm, Merlin blinked and caught himself in an awkward pin.

He stared on, watching the Forerunner machine sail higher into the sky, letting off a droning-like screech before adding lateral movement to its ascent and transitioned towards the deep blue far above.

Going, going, until it was a smudgy gray spec in the distance. It continued to zoom upwards and toward the horizon before finally disappearing into the harsh sun rays. Going, gone.

“Where’s it headed?” Merlin asked, finding his words again.

“Don’t know...”

Merlin continued to strain his eyes against the harsh light, looking for where the Forerunner ship disappeared off to but found nothing. Only the occasional treetop and flocks of migrating, screeching seagulls.

The female voice that claimed she wasn’t Andra spoke up again, “Wait. Wait! Energy spike!”

Merlin glanced widely up at the sky, looking for whatever it was that the voice was detecting. Nothing.

“What-where?”

The horizon flashed a brilliant cyan color, getting bigger and wider as it raced towards Merlin and the beach. A giant wave of light? It zipped into and passed him all in a second’s span.

A dull beeping erupted in the background. Merlin’s shield indicator. He glanced up at the holographic shield bar and found it fully depleted, blinking red and angry.

The female voice spoke again, a shiver in her voice. “That’s… Not good.”

. . .

The giant Forerunner space owl was gone. The once-disturbed wildlife in the forest calmed to a chirping hum. Merlin’s mind was elsewhere, dancing between idle panic and incoherent sea-watching where the golden sun had risen high into the morning sky. He scrolled through a transparent menu upon transparent menu with his eyes and mind, looking for something substantial in his MJOLNIR GEN2 BIOS management system that might fix his failing power armor.

Hell, Merlin practically wrote half the functions in the suit-software and that wasn’t helping him in the slightest. Energy shielding was offline. Queries to the nuclear fusion powerplant and its fail-safes came back with nothing. Suit functions were reporting systemic hardware failure; he was still practically mobilized in a half-ton suit of titanium. Whatever joke of so-called remaining ‘battery power’ was probably spent.

“Want my help?” His helmet-synced Smart AI asked with hints of concern, and annoyance. To be fair to her, Merlin had silently skimmed menus for the better part of a few minutes now.

“I got this; I know my own code.”

The Smart AI paused for a couple of seconds while Merlin scanned then pushed away another menu.

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?”

Oh, now she was just being grumpy.

“I already said I got this. And no, that’s a stupid idea.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m an AI.”

“Then why’d you suggest it?” Merlin asked.

“No reason,” she curtly responded.

“You’re bored?”

“Well, of course! I’m over here sacrificing runtimes so you can go through this pointless exercise.”

Merlin halted his menu-surfing, right before the diagnostic test for his left hand and gauntlet response systems.

“Well, what do you want from—"

“I already ran an administrative backdoor and checked your systems in the second it took you to pass the first menu. Your suit’s toast.”

The Spartan blinked, his streaming thoughts coming to a halt. “Well…uh… I still need to perform a diagnostic because I don’t know how bad the damage is…”

“Here,” The Smart AI pushed aside Merlin’s menu settings and slapped a dominating program window over his Heads-Up Display. Situated across a sparse but detailed diagram recreation of his INTERCEPTOR-class armor, Merlin noted the flaring red lines representing failing power lines running up and down his limbs from the suit powerplant. “I highlighted the problems for you – see? You got fluctuating and downright fried circuitry all over the place.”

“How’d you do that?” Merlin gapped in surprise. “I can’t even—"

“—get a diagram like this up? I’m an AI, I can write new programs on the fly. And even then, your software package is a mess.”

Merlin did the smart thing in response. He sputtered in denial.

The AI deadpanned. “I’m not kidding.”

Merlin sighed in response, “…you’re not the first AI to tell me that. Look, I’ve been trying to improve, I’ve only spent a year with this armor – a year to learn its ins and outs. And now it’s just about destroyed…”

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. But I just need that assurance or that confirmation. That it’s truly unsalvageable. We’re on this planet and on this beach. I’m still not sure how we got here, and that space-owl-thing is gone. We’re lost.”

Over the audio link, the feminine AI sighed once more, “Yeah, we’re lost. But your armor’s dead Merlin. We got to get you out of it.”

“Is that really a good idea? Is the air around me even livable? Are there any nasty surprises waiting for me? Once I take this off, I’ll lose my vacuum seal and there won’t be anything between me and whatever’s out there.”

“The air’s perfectly breathable. It’s exact to human colony preferences. But you’re right, once your armor is off, we won’t be able to put it back on. Even then, it's destroyed. We have to do this.”

Dread clinched in his deep-set muscles as he shivered in anticipation. Merlin knew all the many reasons he was unusual for a SPARTAN-III but just like any other Spartan, the armor was like a second skin to him.

Well, not that much. But he had an attachment to it, ever since his requisition request was cleared aboard the UNSC Infinity and the digital catalog opened for him. He could still remember the short, simple little description blurb selling the armor to him. ‘Customizable operator settings for the INTERCEPTOR allow everything from neural interface bandwidth to helmet air conditioning to be adjusted.’

“You’re attached,” The Smart AI observed.

“You could say that. Ever since I read about it on a requisition datapad, I knew it was meant for me. Before I completed graduation from SPARTAN-III Delta Company, my company-mates and I were given first-generation MJOLNIR suits from SPARTAN-IIs and IIIs who stopped using them for the newer GEN2. They were hand-me-downs, and I’m grateful having received armor from those that came before – I was given so much more than previous IIIs had. But that armor wasn’t really mine. When I saw INTERCEPTOR, I finally found an armor that was meant for me.”

“I’m sorry,” the Smart AI repeated.

“It’s alright,” Merlin repeated as well, frowning. He was dragging his feet. He knew what he needed to do now. There was no way around this. “Alright, let’s get this armor off.”

“I can handle the electronics but you’re going to have to do the groundwork. Fair warning, this is going to take a while.”

“Show me,” Merlin requested. The Smart AI went to work, minimizing the circuitry status menu to allow space for a packet of new pages explaining the complex process of a manual MJOLNIR breakdown process.

. . .

Merlin expanded and contracted his gloved left hand, assessing its reflex as soreness in his wrist tendons ached from misuse. Releasing his right hand from squeezing the left wrist, he clenched and unclenched it experimentally, checking for similar soreness.

Almost an hour into the armor removal process, the suit’s final power reserves gave out, cutting Merlin off from his visual diagnostics. His body heat and excretion could only do so much to keep the remaining circuits alive. That led to another period of momentary panic but thankfully, the Smart AI in his head managed a fix, allowing the suit to run in a borderline-functional state. That way, at least she could read off the steps to him still.

“You okay?” The AI asked from Merlin’s helmet speakers as the Spartan watched the muscle-like fibers of his MJOLNIR under suit flex around the hands.

“It’s still sore, more than when I finally woke up anyway.”

“Sorry about the chassis screws, you don’t have much in the way of giant screwdrivers right now so magnetic clamps were really the only way to get them off.”

“Yeah, jamming my finger into those slots and twisting was real fun,” Merlin grumbled as he returned to massaging his sore wrists. “I’m still feeling those pins and needles.”

Due to the lack of a disassembly system in the vicinity of probably-lightyears, Merlin had to reach around his obstructive armor plating to get to the harness-arresting points to unlock the retention screws manually. Between his lack of power and stiff suit, that was a tedious process of letting blood slip from his arms trying to reach the holes. More than a couple times, he lost all feeling in his limbs and had to use another arm to push it back into an angle where he could get some locomotion back.

“At least the hard part’s over now.”

Merlin hummed in affirmation at his AI assistant.

“So, what’s next? The armor’s off.” Merlin asked, grabbing at the loosely held sections of his chest harness, now two pointless composite-titanium paperweights. Attempting to lift the suit pieces, Merlin struggled under his own power and resorted to dragging them across the wet sand instead.

It was a strange sensation, the realization of how heavy his armor was, and the realization of how weak he really was. Merlin slotted the chest plate in the beach sand next to his set-aside knee and thigh plates. Glancing over the cracked and burnt exterior, the Spartan youth could only sigh and run his gloved hands over the metal’s flaky, onyx-colored surface.

Merlin grabbed the remnants of his shredded combat mesh layer, yanking the cloth lining that held most of his field gear and utility pouches. Burndown to individual threads, only the vacuum-sealed pouches seemed salvageable – and only to a degree. Beneath the mesh, the darkened armor surface was a mix of that clearly visible black and sporadic ruins of navy-blue paint, the armor’s original color tone.

“There isn’t much else to do Spartan. It’s off now, what you do with it is up to you.” The AI supplied, remaining quiet to give the teenager a moment with his home away from home.

Merlin unhooked three rifle magazine pouches and carelessly lobbed them over his shoulder one at a time. He grabbed a medical pouch and threw that one aside too, far out of reach of the saltwater but still nearby as he heard the pouches clink against one another and thump against the sand beneath them.

“Don’t forget your saddlebag,” The AI reminded, highlighting the large pouch strapped to the back of Merlin’s armor next to his fusion reactor and central exhaust ports.

He eyed it before pulling it free and tossing it behind him as well. He addressed the AI on the choice of words, “Is it really called that or…? I could have sworn it was called something else.”

“It’s just a field bag, but it does look like a saddlebag – at least a little bit? I think Andra would call it a saddlebag.” The AI explained uncertainly.

“I, uh, I’m not sure about that.” Merlin counteracted, not sure what to make of this AI. She had her own full personality, sporadic and mysterious and nothing like what he expected. Merlin had his fair share of encounters with AIs, but they always seemed so disinterested, this was by far the first time one sounded so alive. She was odd; it didn’t help that she still sounded so much like Andra.

Shaking his head and blinking away the confusion, Merlin noted the slight strained feeling being pressed down on his head. The helmet, the final piece of his gear he had yet to take off for the final time. It was time to let go.

“Helmet coming off?” The AI asked oddly as if reading his mind. Now that Merlin thought back to it, this AI seemed to be predicting his actions. Could she read his mind? Was that a thing?

The AI didn’t respond.

Well, maybe she wasn’t. “Yeah, I’m pulling it off.”

“Alright, before you set it down, please yank my chip.”

Merlin gripped the sides of his helmet and twisted it just a degree to the left, there was a quick hiss and the smart-clamp tech loosened, ending Merlin’s environmental seal. A quick breath in and he could take some enjoyment out of breathing fresh, tropical air rather than the staleness of his own stink and sweat. He hefted the damaged INTERCEPTOR helmet off his shoulders and felt an unusual release come off his skull.

“Wow… this thing’s heavy.”

“Uh-huh.” The AI responded through the speakers in the helmet, now a distant whisper away from his ears.

“Right, yanking you now.” Merlin reached out and pulled the silver-colored chip from the back of the helmet and set the helmet down in the wet sand. It wasn’t like he would be wearing it again any time soon.

Dropping the gumdrop-sized chip into his gloved palm, Merlin examined the small drive with an inquisitive eye. The same features he noted while aboard the Wealthian space station. Silver in color. Rounded edges. A circular, transparent center with a disk-like crystalline layer. A faint blue light rippling in that center disk.

A soft ping popped from the transparent disk, exploding upward into a holographic beam. It flared for a moment before triangulating into polygons and holographic pixels.

Four inches tall, no bigger than an action figure. Dark blue tonal hue with accents of darker grays and blacks. A flowing cloak constructed around a clearly feminine physique with black boots and an obscured face under a large dark hood. Like a grim reaper.

“Uh…hi?” Merlin tried uncertainly.

The hood glanced up at Merlin, a pair of vaguely gleaming cerulean eyes looked back up at the Spartan.

“Uh…hi.” The feminine AI repeated, also uncertain, but more with a hint of dry humor.

“So, you’re Andra’s AI.”

The AI seemed to mull over the statement before responding. “Well, yes. Yeah, I guess I am.”

Merlin glanced down at his armor, then up to the ocean, and the sky. He glanced behind him and watched little seagulls wander about the beachside hunting for breakfast, or lunch. He turned back to the AI.

“Alright, I don’t know what to do and I’m kind of confused on where we are and what’s going on.”

“You’re lost,” the AI said bluntly.

“Yeah,” Merlin confirmed, “I have no idea what’s going on right now.”

“We’re in the same boat there.”

“Got any ideas?” Merlin asked, raising one eyebrow.

“A few, but I’m not sure about it. It’s complicated and might not be accurate.”

Merlin glanced around again, taking in their current environment and predicament.

“We got time to discuss it?”

“Yeah, I agree with you there,” The AI surmised, shrugging its virtual shoulders.

“Where do we start?” Merlin asked, lifting the AI closer to his face to try and get a better look at the face behind the hood.

The AI retreated, silently bringing her hands up to her hood and tugging it down over her eyes. “Uh, uh… how about introductions?”

“Merlin-D032. Merlin Ljang-Boyd.”

“You can call me ALT. That’s what Andra called me, but I do have a name, its-its Althea.” The hooded AI stated, moving her cloaked arms behind her in a sheepish manner.

“Althea…alright…” Merlin responded, experimenting with the name on his lips. “Alright Althea, tell me what’s going on.”

“Right…” And so, the AI began explaining what she knew.

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@@ Line 1: / Line 1: @@
 {|style="width:100%;"
 |<div style="padding:10px; -moz-border-radius: 0.5em;"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">
-{{Era|UD|DI}}{{Writer|Distant Tide}}{{Under Construction}}<font size="3">
+{{Era|DI|UD}}{{Writer|Distant Tide}}{{Title|''Lonely Frontier''}}<font size=3><br/>
+[[File:DT_Lonely_Frontier_Poster.png|center|600px]]<br/>
-<br/><div style='border: 1px cyan; box-shadow: 1px 1px 4px 4px cyan;'><br>
+<center>"''Cortana's Created faction is on the march, beginning to bend the galaxy to their whim. And yet, in remote corners of the galaxy, life continues unabated. For one lost Spartan, it means finding his way home and to trust in questionable companions. For another lost Spartan, the first step to being her own person is not knowing the way forward.''"</center>
-<center><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">{{Quote|Not till we are lost...do we begin to find ourselves...| '''Henry David Thoreau's ''Walden'', Chapter 8'''}}</span></center>
-<br/></div><br/><!--[Lifted from Henry David Thoreau's ''Walden''. "''Not till we are lost, in other words not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations.''.]-->
-"''{{Halopedia|Cortana|Cortana's|style=color:paleblue}} {{Halopedia|Created|style=color:paleblue}} faction are on the march, beginning to bend the galaxy to their whim. And yet, in remote corners of the galaxy, life continues unabated. For one [[Merlin-D032|lost Spartan]], it means finding his way home and to trust in questionable companions. For another [[Andra-D054|lost Spartan]], the first step to being her own person is to not know the way forward.''"<br/>
-{{Story Infobox/2
-|width=250px
-|title=<span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">Halo: Lonely Frontier</span>
-|file=[[File:Lonely_Frontier_Test.png|center|250px]]
-|message=
-|protagonist=[[Merlin-D032]]<br/>[[Andra-D054]]
-|antagonist=
-|author={{Name|Distant Tide}}
-|published=January 31 2019<br/>{{C|Earliest Creation}}
-|rating=16+ <small>(Some harsh language and violence throughout)</small>
-|previous=
-|next=[[Halo: Power Plays]]<br/>[[Halo: Heaven and Earth]]
-|series=[[:Category:Undesirables|Undesirables]]
-|song=}}
 __TOC__
 {{Clear}}
+<!--[=='''Plot Summary'''==
+<font size="4">
-==<span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">'''Dramatis Personae'''</span>==
+</font>]-->
-<gallery position="center" spacing="small" gallery widths="200" position="center" orientation="" navigation="true" captionposition="below" captionalign="center" captionsize="medium" captiontextcolor="#5cc1c7" bordercolor="#5cc1c7">
+=='''Dramatis Personae'''==
-DT_Cody-B042_LF_Profile.png|Cody-B042|link=Cody-B042
+<br/>
-DT_Andra-D054_LF_Profile.png|Andra Kearsarge {{C|Andra-D054}}|link=Andra-D054
+<center><u>'''Protagonists'''</u></center>
-DT_Merlin-D032_LF_Profile.png|Merlin Ljang Boyd {{C|Merlin-D032}}|link=Merlin-D032
+<gallery widths="150" orientation="square" spacing="small" columns="2" position="center" navigation="true" captionalign="center">
+DT_Andra_Profile_2559.png|Andra-D054|link=Andra-D054
+DT_Merlin_headshot_2559.png|Merlin-D032|link=Merlin-D032
+</gallery>
+<center><u>'''Supporting Cast'''</u></center>
+<gallery widths="150" orientation="square" spacing="small" columns="3" position="center" navigation="true" captionalign="center">
 DT_Ryder_Kedar_LF_Profile.png|Ryder Kedar|link=Ryder Kedar
 DT_Althea_LF_Profile.png|Althea {{C|ALT 5032-4}}|link=Althea
+DT_Cody-B042_LF_Profile.png|Cody-B042|link=Cody-B042
+DT_Frendsen_Profile.png|Derek Frendsen|link=Derek Frendsen
+VilSte.png|Vilda Stenbeck|link=Vilda Stenbeck (TPF)
 </gallery>
-<!--[
-{{Col-begin}}
-{{Col-2}}
-*[[Althea|Althea {{C|ALT 5032-4}}]]
-*[[Andra-D054|Andra Kearsarge {{C|Andra-D054}}]]
-*[[Cody-B042]]
-{{Col-2}}
-*[[Merlin-D032|Merlin Ljang Boyd {{C|Merlin-D032}}]]
-*[[Ryder Kedar]]
-{{Col-end}}
-Wealthian Coalition, Baal Defense Solutions, Project APOLLYON, Arachnids, 281 Preservator-A, Prometheans, Merlin-D032, Andra-D054, Althea, Operation: RUNIT DOME, Oyster Point, Oyster Point Defense Fleet, The Silent Garden, Ambrose's Refuge/Unwanted Savior, Deep-Space Slippers, Arthurian Legends, Grim's Fairy Tales/Disney Movies, Wild-Wild West, Team Boson/Massachusetts, Bugger Colonial-Hibernation Ship, Straw Hat with Headhunter Logo, Bater-Trading with BDS, Guardian EMP, pre-Industrial society, escape planet, lost in space.]-->
+=='''''Halo: Lonely Frontier'''''==
 {{Clear}}
+==='''Chapter One: Runit Dome I'''===
+:<big><u>'''Merlin'''</u></big>
+:'''0612 Hours, 28 October 2558'''
+:'''UNSC Corvette ''Black Caviar'''''
+:'''Wealthian Territory, Joint-Occupation Zone'''
+Merlin-D032 slowly tilted his neck to examine the blackness of space for objects of interest: stars, rocks, or anything along those lines. The small window slits of his combat insertion pod complicated the dully-inspired activity. Unsatisfied with the micro-asteroids and endless darkness, he laid his helmeted head against his shock-absorption chair and stared at the ceiling.
+The Spartan grumbled to himself out of boredom, the innumerable sequel to many more grumbles in the minutes past. He experimentally lifted his left boot heel into the air and planted it back down with a solid, metallic clank against the floor of his pod. The hollow noise reverberated through the titanium, disappearing into an unseen distance before zooming back into Merlin's ears through his suit's audio suite.
-==<big><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">'''Part 1: Runit Dome'''</span></big>==
-{{Clear}}
-<div style='border: 1px cyan; box-shadow: 1px 1px 4px 4px cyan;'><br>
-<center><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">{{Quote|In the face of crisis, we're left with two options: fight or flee. Those who run into the fire are likely stupid, but, they will be remembered.| '''James P. Baig, Excerpt from ''The Poltergeist'''''}}</span></center>
-<br/></div><br/>
+He smirked at that, satisfied with the rebounding echo. He bounced his knee rapidly – repeating the low-effort exercise. His thigh muscle became a hammer, pounding away at the ground to some antiquated tune he heard on the radio somewhere in the rural American Midwest.
-==='''<big><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">Chapter 1.1: Insertion Method</span></big>'''===
-{{Time Stamp|Non-Standardized Time Stamp // October 29th, 2558|Wealthian Territory, Joint-Occupation Zone}}
-<!--[2944 words]-->
-Merlin-D032 scanned the inky blackness of space from the reinforced window slits of his atmospherically sealed insertion pod. He saw the twinkling dots and rippling crystalline that marked the presence of stars far beyond the measure of single-digit light-years. Through the slits, the young man found disappointment and difficulty taking in the wonderous, distant beauty of the Milky Way galaxy.
+He considered what others outside were hearing, maybe it sounded like a furious woodpecker pounding into a tree. Or maybe, it sounded like meteoroids bouncing harmlessly off the side of their starship. Maybe it sounded like a man beating a starship bulkhead with a hammer. The silence of contemplation lasted a third way through Merlin's antiquated beat, one he did not know the name of, before a sweet-sounding female voice spoke in his ear, stealing his full attention.
-He grumbled to himself out of boredom, the innumerable sequel to many more grumbles in the minutes passed. He experimentally lifted his left heel into the air and planted it back down with a metallic clank against the impact cushioning and metal floor of the pod. The dull, hollow noise reverberated through the titanium bouncing back through the walls and back into Merlin’s ears, or rather, his helmet’s audio suite and then into his ears.
+"Merlin?" The girl's voice asked.
-Satisfied with the nice ''dunk'' sound the metal beneath his armored foot made, Merlin repeated the action – rapidly. His boot heel bounced repeatedly as he shaped his thigh muscle into a hammering force, beating the floor to some old tune he once heard while listening to an antiquated radio station that still sang true in the rural American Midwest.
+"Yeah?"
-Merlin thought to the noise outside his temporary titanium prison cell and considered what others were hearing, maybe it sounded like the beating of a furious woodpecker from inside a tree. Maybe it sounded like meteoroids bouncing harmlessly off the side of a starship. Maybe it sounded like a man beating the wall of a starship with a hammer.
+"You hear that sound?"
-Merlin didn’t get much time to continue as after about a minute of lonely silence and he made it a third way through his antiquated song, one he did not know the name of, a youthfully-sweat female voice spoke into his ear and encapsulated his full attention.
+Merlin paused in his foot-stomping as a certain heat rose to his ears and cheeks. He smiled wistfully at the ceiling, imagining the female Spartan's blue eyes looking back at him in mild amusement.
-“Merlin?” The girl’s voice asked.
+"Yeah. I do."
-“Yeah?”
-“That you? Making that sound?”
+"That's you right? Making that noise?"
+"Yep…"
-“Yeah...” Merlin’s voice trailed off into slight embarrassment even as he smiled into his helmet wistfully, imagining the girl’s blue eyes on the other end rolling in mild amusement. His foot came to a complete pause, parking itself flat on the floor.
-A second passed in silence.
+A silent second passed between the two Spartans.
-Two loud drum-like ''thumps'' echoed from somewhere outside Merlin’s insertion pod; it was hard to tell if it came from a distance or up close. All he could distinguish were the ferocity of the impacts, like someone hitting a great Chinese gong with a steel mallet in rapid succession.
+Two loud drum-like thumps crackled from somewhere outside Merlin's insertion pod; it was hard to identify the distance, but he knew it was right next door. To his ears, it sounded like someone hitting a giant Chinese gong with a mallet in rapid succession.
-“Was that you?” Merlin asked across the radio to his friend.
+"Was that you?" Merlin asked across the radio to his friend.
-She responded with a simple “Ow.”
+She responded with a simple "Ow."
-“That hurt you? Really?”
+"Really? That hurt you?"
-“No, just a little surprised by how much you feel through the armor.”
+"Nope," she started, "Just a little surprised by how much you can feel through armor."
-“Doing what?” Merlin’s face contorted into confusion.
+"Doing what?" Merlin's face contorted in concerned interest.
-“Punching titanium.”
+"Punching titanium."
-“Well,” he blinked to himself and quirked one side of his lip in a half-grin. "That’s an interesting thing to do.”
+"Well," he blinked to himself before quirking one side of his lips into a half-grin. "That's a strange thing to do."
-There was a small laugh on the other end, a cute one, that transformed Merlin’s half-grin into a toothy smile as he joined in, chuckling in their united feeling of comradery. He felt his lungs give a few tugs as under-used muscles vibrated in a giddy motion as if happy to have a purpose again.
+There was a small laugh on the radio's other end, a cute one, that transformed Merlin's half-grin into a toothy smile as he joined in, chuckling in their united sense of humor. He felt his lungs give a few tugs as under-used muscles vibrated in a giddy motion as if pleased to have a purpose again.
-“Hey! Cut it off.” A stern, commanding voice tore through the cheerful noise.
+"Alright, composure please." A soft-voiced ONI mission handler, Lieutenant Commander Vilda Stenbeck, cut through the cheerful noise.
+The Spartans' laughter cooled as their superior officer finally got down to something of substance and value. "Spartans. Let's quickly summarize the mission brief one last time, so we're clear on everything. What's the mission?"
-The young man and woman quickly composed themselves, going dead silent as their mission handler finally filled the period of mundane gibber-gabber with something with substance and value.
-The mission handler cleared his throat. “''Eh-hem''. Spartans. Let’s hear the mission brief one more time, just so we’re clear on everything. What is our mission?”
-The girl, Andra-D054, spoke up. “Our target is a deep-space facility believed to be operated by members of the insurgent nation-state, the Wealthian Coalition.”
+The female Spartan, Andra-D054, spoke up. "The mission is Operation: RUNIT DOME. Our target is a deep-space facility believed to be operated by elements of the Wealthian Coalition insurgent group."
+"They're a self-sufficient state. They're too big to be called a simple terror group," Stenbeck corrected before moving on to the next bullet point. "Merlin, the reason we're here?"
-“Merlin?” The handler called for the young man to continue where his teammate started.
-“Operation: RUNIT DOME. We’re here to see if a superweapon with magical properties is being made. If so, we’re here to shut it down. If not, we’re still here to shut them down.”
+"We're here to investigate reports of a superweapon, one with supposed 'magical properties'. If so, we're here to shut it down. If not, we're here still to shut them down."
-“Close enough. Rumor has it, some Insurrectionists, the Wealthians, got a hold on some alien technology with the ability to evaporate objects from existence like magic. Your mission this time will be to assess this possibility behind enemy lines.”
+"Close enough. Rumors claim these Insurrectionists got a hold of some alien technology with the ability to evaporate objects from existence. Matter and all. Our mission is to assess that possibility."
-“Another mission outside UNSC space,” Merlin asked, directing his question toward Andra. “You ready for this?”
+"Back into action," Merlin remarked, directing his concern toward Andra. "You ready for this?"
+A short pause followed by a sigh. "Yep."
-“Yep.”
-“Now can someone tell me about the insertion method and rules of engagement?”
+"Alright, remember that you two make up this operation's Phase One. What are the insertion method and rules of engagement?"
-Merlin responded quickly, filling the information gap as the days of surveillance data and mission pre-planning slipped back onto his conscience. “The structure is built into the side of an asteroid, measured just over 3.4 kilometers in diameter. The base is about half-a-kilometer in length as well. Due to the active combat zone being an asteroid field, it’s believed the base uses either ship-grade pulse lasers or CIWS coil-guns to negate environmental hazards.”
+"Andra and I will approach the facility using SOEIV insertion pods. The station is a bunker constructed from quick-assembly modules embedded partially into the side of an asteroid. The asteroid is about 3.4 kilometers in diameter and the station itself is around five hundred meters. We'll be up against point-defense ship-grade weaponry when we get close. That's based on the combat environment and the schematics of similar bases we looked over."
+"And?" The handler asked. Merlin imagined her performing a kind of 'continue' hand gesture.
-“The insertion method? Please.”
+"The ''Black Caviar'' will employ coilguns and gravity plates to direct space rocks along our flight path to provide the SOEIVs some cover. We'll break through the structural defenses and report back successful landing, from there we'll see our part of the mission through."
-“Right...getting to that. Andra and I have modified Orbital Drop insertion pods with increased maneuverability settings intended for a low-gravity insertion. Our drop point is from the base of the asteroid we’ve been using for surveillance for the last week at a general range of hundred-thousand kilometers. The ''Black Caviar'' will employ a series of coil-guns and anti-gravity plates to break up and direct chunks of rock debris toward the Wealthian space station. Andra and I will follow the rocks in and break through the defense array.”
+Pitching in, Andra picked up where Merlin left off. "Rules of engagement are following standard operating procedure and conduct. Deadly force against all hostile forces is authorized, however, prioritizing the securement and safety of computer terminals and research personnel is paramount. Steps to Phase One include successful insertion, securement, and isolation of necessary facility modules, capture and control of the enemy command center and all control functions. All in lead up to the ''Caviar's'' docking."
-“And Rules of Engagement?”
+"Alright, sounds good. No further review," Stenbeck sighed over the radio connection, "I will admit when you two were assigned to this mission, I didn't have that much confidence in a couple of wet-behind-the-ears Spartans. Still, DAEDALUS spoke highly of you two – I think his confidence is well-placed given the work you've put into mission planning."
-“Eliminate any immediate security personnel unless they surrender. Secure the facility and staff, acquire facility intelligence, shutdown external security, take control of facility functions, and make way for the ''Caviar’s'' docking.” Andra answered in a monotone voice.
+"Thank you," Andra responded curtly, finding nothing more to say to the ONI officer. Merlin, on the other hand, picked up on something amiss.
-“Hopefully not in that order.” The mission handler warned.
+"Wait, did you say, 'you two', Merlin narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Did he actually say that?"
-“We know the priority. Don’t worry about it.”
+There was a short pause between the Spartans and the ONI officer as the question was processed. Andra broke first, cackling in a very rare fit of laughter.
-“Alright, I’m counting on you to make this work. DAEDALUS spoke very highly of you two.” The mission handler sighed, giving up on the pre-mission quiz.
+The officer sighed again, her voice coming through as higher-pitched and a little exasperated. "Well, no. He said Andra was great then called you two 'a reliable team'. He barely mentioned you; I was trying to be considerate."
-“You two?” Merlin asked in confusion. He tilted his helmeted head in confusion.
+Andra's laughter subsided into a humorous sigh. "Joshua hates his guts."
-“Fine,” The mission handler’s voice returned, higher pitched and a little exasperated. “He only mentioned Andra. He didn’t actually talk about you much; I was trying to be considerate.”
-“Don’t worry about trying to be nice, Josh and I have an understanding.”
+"That has to be the nicest thing he's said about me," Merlin grumbled and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry about being considerate, we have an understanding."
+A silence fell over the radio link, evidently, what needed to be said had been said.
-“More like Josh hates your guts and you just deal with it,” Andra interjected followed by a humorous sigh.
+"Alright. Radio silence will be going into effect with exception to waypoint callouts. There's a chance your communications will be blocked from the inside, keep that in mind – speed is key here. The faster we have the station CIC, the less chance for a mess – but remember, this is not the time to be stressed. Slow and steady win the race."
-Merlin didn’t respond, simply shrugging his shoulders even though no one could see it.
+"Aye, ma'am." The Spartan duo sounded off.
-“Alright, we’ll be entering radio silence then. We'll keep track of your diagnostics and radio feed from here periodically, per usual. Arrival time is time-minus two hours and twenty-three minutes. You two catch some shut-eye on the way in; it will get noisy as you get in close. If you two need to communicate, keep it to a minimum. The guidance computers should do most of the work for you.” The mission handler stated, confirming the mission was now beginning. He cut off his communications suite and disappeared with a short buzz of static.
+"Time to contact with the enemy stronghold will be two hours and twenty-three minutes. You two keep in contact with one another but maintain minimal radio contact, I don't think I need to explain that. Your SOEIV guidance computers should handle most of the driving until you get close, so catch up on shuteye in the meantime because it will get boring. We launch when the Captain gives the go-order. You know the drill, make ready."
-Merlin heard Andra’s radio cutout as well as she also signed off. Merlin did the same, shutting down the radio chatroom.
+The radio net fizzled out with a burst of static as the Spartans and the ONI officer disengaged their communications.
-In the seconds that followed the mission-go order, Merlin watched as the red-glow of his pod night-lights replace the darkened interior of his metaphoric prison of boredom. His augmented hearing noticed the subtle noise of turreted coil-guns spinning to life and spitting bullets out into the vacuum. Merlin heard no explosions. In space, there was no sound except that which traveled through connected materials – to his ears, it sounded like fast-spinning fans.
+Moments passed again in silence, Merlin's boredom returned but he knew now that the final throws of mission prep were taking place. Any moment, it would be time to begin RUNIT DOME. He ran through his checklist of things to do: his weapons were properly secured in their holdings, the SOEIV diagnostics were spitting back good outputs from all systems, Andra was as ready as he was, everyone was on the same page. Everything was good.
-The young man closed his eyes, psyching himself into a sleepy mood. Three distant beeps sounded, counting down the release of the harness clamps holding Merlin’s pod in place.
+All he needed to do now was shoot out the side of the starship and take a nap. Seemed easy enough.
-Merlin’s pod shot off the side of the ''Black Caviar'' and out into the darkness of open space. The last thing Merlin heard or felt was the soft vibrations inside his own skull as Andra’s Spartan neural implant reached out to Merlin’s across a secured wireless connection. It was a civilian cybernetic novelty, a technology-oriented toward couples with intimacy issues. Merlin and Andra had taken an interest in it following the dissolution of their former unit.
+The darkness around Merlin flickered as red lights came to life throughout his pod interior. Outside the pod, his augmented hearing picked up on the subtle whirring of machinery, shipboard coilguns spinning to life. Sound didn't travel through space, but through the metal walls, he could detect the thousands of bullets escaping their barrel and out into the nothingness.
-Andra’s mind sent a series of signals to his nerves, tingling them in a frequency that gave Merlin the uncanny sensation of someone stroking his hair. His neck vibrated with warmth and comfort at the ‘phantom touch’ before he slipped into a soft slumber of his own making.
+He closed his eyes, psyching himself into a sleepy mood. Even with the rattling fan-like gunfire, he still managed to get into his groove. These kinds of meditation-though-terror exercises had been imparted to him by drill instructors not long ago, however, it was only this year they started to display their benefits.
-The darkness was engulfing but inviting, Merlin disappeared into his dreamless nap for a time.
+Three dull beeps echoed overhead, counting down to mission launch. After the third beep, the Spartan reflexively braced.
-In what felt like only a few minutes, Merlin was wide-awake with the blaring warning alert of passive-scanning radar and other hostile detection systems analyzing the exterior of his insertion pod.
+There was rattling beneath him, rocket thrusters cooked to life above his head. His body tightened against the seat.
-“Merlin! You still with me?” Andra shouted over the radio with the sounds of her own radar-detection alerts chirping in the background.
+Merlin's pod descended out the bottom of the ''Black Caviar'' and out into the darkness of open space. Little ''crunches'' and ''dunks'' pounded against the SOEIV as it cut through an open debris field left by the coil guns.
-“I’m good!” Merlin called back, firing off a digital confirmation-green alert through their communications link. Andra’s own green-wink followed in response a second later. A couple of hours ago, her presence hovered inside his mind. Andra’s presence was gone now. Merlin quickly turned his own cybernetics to standalone-mode to prevent entry by potential enemy hackers.
+Flying off into the deep darkness, he focused on his breathing – inhaling and exhaling at a relegated rate. His muscles slackened in sequence: facial muscles, shoulders and arms, chest, and then legs. Merlin welcomed the shadows, employing the military sleep techniques imparted to him at the start of his Spartan training, five years ago.
-Focusing on the current and immediate, Merlin tuned out Andra for only a moment to get a grasp of his situation. He shifted his armored body around to get a better view of what was taking place outside of his insertion pod before settling back in, realizing how stupid he might have looked just now.
+Soft vibrations in the back of his skull marked Andra's Spartan neural implant reaching out and linking with his over a secured connection. It was a civilian cybernetic novelty, a technology intended for couples with intimacy issues. He paid it no mind but took enjoyment from the warmth and comfort her phantom touch brought. ''Shh''.
-The lack of gravity failed to remind Merlin of his orientation; that front, back, up and down were not the same direction as they might be on his colony-of-birth or on Earth. He settled back into his seat and relaxed a bit, allowing the guidance controls to fly him toward the asteroid base in silence.
+His eyelids slackened finally, and he disappeared into a soft slumber.
-Even with his settling in for the last, potentially rough section of his journey, and even with the blaring warning sounds from the alarms, he breathed slowly – attempting to lock down his nerves. He squashed any thought toward the million-and-a-half ways he could die as he closed in on the asteroid base.
+Stenbeck's voice returned to the radio network one last time, "Good luck Spartans."
-He clenched at the maneuvering joysticks of his insertion pod. If his suit hadn’t compensated for his over-gripping, he would have crushed them there on the spot. Underneath the armor, his hands were a bone-white.
+Her only response was the shallow breathing of slumbering child-soldiers.
-Andra’s voice called to Merlin over the radio. “I got no hint of flak-fire. At this range, the Rampart guns should be opening up on us. We’ve clearly been detected.”
+<center>'''. . .'''</center>
-“Pulse lasers then?” Merlin asked, even though he already considered it a given.
+Warning klaxons droned in Merlin's ears, blaring on about hostile threats on approach. Andra's voice crackled over the radio, beginning with a yawn, "–Merlin, you still with me?"
-“Yeah,” Andra confirmed.
+He blinked rapidly, chasing the sleep out of his eyes. The interior lights throughout his pod were flashing a deep-red, bathing the small compartment in a bloody aura. Recognizing a call to action, he fired off a green-status alert to Andra and allowed his schooled instincts to take control.
-“Damn.”
+Andra's own green-status flashed on his helmet HUD, Heads-Up Display, a second later. Merlin's hands danced articulately across his control console even in the sluggish free-floating environment around him. He turned off the combat alarm, drowning the annoying lights and sirens. He ran another system diagnostic to make sure his pod systems were fully-operational and grimaced, though satisfied, when the vehicle computer came back with full functionality.
-Merlin and Andra’s pods closed in, closer and closer toward the station. Guarded by an entourage of tiny, moving space rocks, it still felt as if they were in the clear. Even as the blaring radar detectors continued to scream at the two Spartans.
+"Andra. Go to standalone mode, radio comms only." Merlin ordered over their wireless network as he flashed a thought to shut down his Spartan neural lace's connectivity suites to prevent potential cyber-attacks.
-Nothing happened at first. At first, it was as silent as ever. Then, Merlin heard it. Small objects bouncing off his insertion pod.
+"Way ahead of you!" She responded urgently, now fully awake. Her digital presence was gone now, no longer hovering in the back of his head.
-He scanned through his forward and side windows and found pebble-sized rock chunks tapping against his insertion pod. Then one, the size of a soccer ball, hit the window with a solid ''thump''. Upon closer inspection, Merlin could see tendrils of gas, possibly water vapor, rushing away from the rock as the frozen water within boiled away.
+Certain that they were squared away, Merlin rigidly pushed his back into the impact cushion of his pod chair and clenched his hands around his maneuvering joysticks. If his suit wasn't compensating for the over-gripping, he would have crushed the sensitive instruments on the spot. Underneath the armed gloves, his knuckles were turning bone-white.
-Heat weapon. Pulse laser confirmed.
+Seconds passed before his palms loosened from around the joysticks. He wasn't feeling concussive impacts of flak-fire thudding against his pod's exterior. Strange.
-Merlin confirmed his findings vocally. “It’s pulse lasers. Prepare for entry. Go to full burn.”
+The two Spartan insertion pods zoomed through the darkness, closing in on the space station. Their first line of defense, the entourage of tiny space rocks remained completely intact. Merlin eyed his HUD's passive scan-alert with suspicion. The little light blinked on and off in silence – he knew they were being scanned by radar or lidar or whatever. And yet still no enemy response.
-“Don’t get cooked,” Andra responded as her maneuvering thrusters kicked to life as Merlin viewed it out his window’s right side.
+Did they know they were coming or not? Or did they miss something, was this a trap?
-“I’ll try not to.”
+Merlin bit on his lower lip and his nose flared in frustration. He could feel his heartbeat at that moment, pounding away with his rising nerves.
-Merlin noted that he couldn’t see any beams of energy or light passing by his pod or Andra’s pod. Rocks simply exploded into bits of gas and pebbles at random.
+Then, he heard it. It was faint, the pattering of small objects against the outside of his insertion pod. To a less-augmented ear, it probably sounded like distant rain, but he could distinguish it. Pebbles thumping on plate armor.
-“Well, you can definitely tell that these are human laser weapons,” Merlin muttered to Andra.
+The Spartan lifted his head off the impact cushion and tried to get a better view from his forward and side windows. He confirmed his hunch, pebble-sized rocks made of dust and ice were zipping into or around his SOIEV's exterior. Then a larger rock, the size of a soccer ball, slammed into the front window with a solid thump. It slid away out of sight, but its wake left a noticeable smear. Tendrils of gas, possibly water vapor, condensed into droplets before rushing across the window.
-“And why’s that?” Andra asked.
+Heat weapon. Pulse laser confirmed.
-“Covenant weapons usually have coloration.”
+"Heat weapon," Merlin called out, "Prepare for entry, go to full burn!"
-“And these are invisible. Good eye.” Andra responded with a grinding of her teeth, not quite focused on the conversation and more so on her survival.
+"Roger!"
-“Thanks,” Merlin added quickly, continuing to focus on his own survival. He gripped his joysticks and felt the maneuvering thruster located above-behind his head shake to life as he held down the ignition trigger on one of the joysticks.
+A speedy gray blob, Andra's insertion pod, raced past the left window atop a brilliant column of fire. Merlin took his right hand off a joystick and cranked his thruster dial to full. His thumbs slammed down on the joysticks once again, pressing down on two red buttons in unison. His head smacked back into his seat as his pod jolted forward; Merlin did not clench at the sudden acceleration, he let it surprise him as any discharging firearm would. Blood raced in all directions, chasing the shifting inertia.
-Finally, sick of the blaring noise in his ear, he pressed a large button on the wall console with a closed fist to shut it down. The blaring stopped but the threat was still very much there. Merlin pressed a button on the consoles at chest level and a televised display exploded to life beneath his feet, boot itself up.
+A countdown flickered to the top of Merlin's HUD, thirty seconds to impact. He flinched and hissed at the acute wave of pain that rushed through his body, a sudden spike in heat that receded moments later only to return.
-The activation-display quickly turned on and transformed into the camera's output from outside Merlin’s insertion pod looking straight down. He could see his pod’s trajectory was at an off-angle and was going to miss the ideal entry point if he did not readjust quickly.
+The Spartans' pods rushed forward through the deep black, passing through layers of low-energy pulse lasers. Some beams skimmed the titanium hides of the SOIEVs, and others ragged over the accelerated insertion vehicles directly, causing the Spartans to growl in painful agitation.
-Merlin jerked his joysticks just a little and felt his pod shift in the opposite direction to compensate and take him with it. Blood raced from everywhere towards his head and shoulders, chasing the shifting inertia.
+Twenty seconds. Merlin tapped a switch on his console and glanced down at his insertion pod's floor where a small computer screen was embedded. It took a moment but the camera feed from beneath the pod switched online, revealing the direct trajectory of Merlin's entry vehicle. He made out the titanium alloy walls of the enemy space station reflected dimly in the local star's dim light. Long shadows cascaded across its surface and its host asteroid from neighboring space rocks floating about.
-Thirty seconds to impact. Good speed. Merlin watched a countdown clock appear on his heads-up display as he began his final approach in the direction of the station. His mind screamed a silent warning for a moment as every surface and every cell in his body reported a sudden spike of heat that quickly receded.
+Then he saw the subtle puffs of dust or gas pop under those shadows. Then the flash of hot-tempered chemical reactions in a vacuum. And then the tracer fire that followed, speeding toward his camera.
-Merlin grazed the edges of a couple of wide pulse laser beams and their extreme heat seeped through his metal pod and through his combat exoskeleton. Every sweat gland in Merlin popped open, evaporated, and left his skin feeling itchy-dry like a hot desert day.
+"Ramparts are opening upon us," Andra yelled out, confirming Merlin's observations. "Switch on hemispheric shielding!"
-Twenty seconds. Merlin noticed flashes of light erupting from the dark points on the edge of the giant metal space station ahead of him and Andra’s pod. He didn’t have much time to guess what they were because his own pod buffed by concussive energy and little beads of heavy metal shrapnel made contact against the titanium hull like a hailstorm.
+"Roger!" The M800 series Rampart CIWS coilguns only saw limited action with the UNSC these days now that the M910s and M870s had entered service, however, they were still a contemporary threat favored by Insurrectionists. They would turn Merlin or Andra to chum in seconds if they hadn't come prepared.
-“Ramparts are opening up on us!” Andra’s voice called out in warning, referring to the legacy M800 series Rampart point-defense guns. They were an older variant of the M910 and M870 series employed by modern UNSC Navy. Still, they were a sizable threat.
+Merlin flicked the first in a row of three switches to his left under the label 'Z-4190 TPE/SS', better known as the Bubble Shield. His pod had three shield dispensers, but he would only need one. A blue-colored, dilated-hexagonal overlay sprouted across the camera area and just barely became visible out Merlin's windows on the bottom side.
-“Bring up hemispheric shielding,” Merlin ordered to Andra then did so himself, pressing down on one of the triggers in his directional joystick controllers. A semi-transparent wall of energized hexagon panels soon blocked Merlin’s camera overlay, absorbing single bullets and proximity-detonated tungsten-buckshot shells. The panels glowed yellow and white, absorbing the hits but cracking and breaking away when the impacts became too much.
+Red-hot bullets pounded against, around, and through the shield as they lanced across space into the high-speed insertion pods. Merlin held his breath in anticipation as shrapnel clanked against his pod's armor and bullets seem to explode or incinerate against his blue-toned shields.
-Merlin raced forward with Andra still at his side, her own ONI-designed hemispheric bubble shield holding out against the bombardment of point-defense weaponry. 10 seconds.
+Ten seconds. Bullets and loose tungsten shrapnel crackled against the shield, turning parts of the energized frame more and more white, signifying the shield's points of weakness. Merlin grit his teeth and mentally counted down with his helmet timer.
-Large holes were quickly forming in Merlin’s energized bubble shield, but he did not worry. The titanium wall of the Wealthian asteroid base was within a couple second’s distance. Then he realized that the wall was slanted.
+Nine. Eight. Seven. Merlin was vaguely aware of Andra's pod streaking forward, now on his right, glowing like a blue comet from its bubble shield and its continuous stream of fire.
-“Fix your vector! It’s an angled approach!” Merlin shouted to Andra in a late, last-second warning. He jerked hard on the joysticks, first upward, then downwards, hoping that his warning came in time and his reaction was fast enough.
+Six…wait, Merlin's eyes glanced down at his pod's floor and immediately knew something was wrong. His mouth moved faster than his mind, "Slant surface! Correct your vector!"
-Andra didn’t respond vocally but her pod violently shook as her thrusters bobbed up and down to fix her final approach as Merlin’s clock zoomed to zero.
+He jerked hard on the joysticks, first upward, then downwards, hoping that his warning came in time and his reaction was fast enough. He hoped desperately that Andra caught his message, if she didn't correct her course, she'd bounce off the station entirely.
-Three. Two. One. Merlin’s bubble shield gave out with a subtle pop. Andra’s pod disappeared into a gigantic fireball as it crashed through the station wall first. Her pod’s thrusters ignited the escaping atmosphere on her way in and disappeared her insertion pod from view.
+Four. Three. Andra didn't respond vocally but her pod violently shook as her thrusters bobbed up and down to fix her final approach. Merlin's mission clock zoomed towards zero.
-Merlin’s eyes made brief contact with a metal floor as he imagined himself screaming even though no noise escaped his gapped lips behind his helmet visor. His cameras cut out. His shields gave way completely under the extreme strain. The metal underneath Merlin crumpled like wet tissue paper even as his head and limbs shook violently from the impact.
+He didn't have time to check his system computer, Merlin hoped they corrected their attack vector enough. He could see the Rampart cannons up close now, just as the tiny dents in station-armor from meteor impacts also came into view.
-Merlin was jostled, thrown around as much as was possible given how tightly locked he was to his impact cushion. His body vibrated, rumbled, Merlin gasped for air as he slid through metal walls without stopping, only slowing with each metaphorical speed bump.
+Zero. He snapped his eyes closed, waiting for the punch and clenching. At that moment, his training wasn't important. He wasn't even thinking, he simply paralyzed himself in the final second of terror. The last impressions of light ghosting on his eyelids were his flickering bubble shield and his camera view dying upon contact the space station wall.
-Five bangs in rapid succession. Merlin could hear the distant whistling of air zipping by his pod as his entry point rapidly depressurized the hallways and cabins Merlin’s pod had smashed through. The dim-red-pod lights gave out and bathed Merlin once again in darkness.
+Darkness. Then, violence.
-Merlin’s pod came to a halt against a titanium bulkhead and settled into its final resting place. Merlin heard the door of his pod hissing, preparing to open.
+A scream roared in his ear, but it wasn't Andra's. It sounded like his voice, but his lips did not part – no noise escaped his lips. His imagination did all the terrible yelling as ''ca-chunk'', ''ca-chunk'', ''ca-chunk'', his insertion pod crashed its way through layers of titanium.
-''Thud''. Something sharp and metallic zipped past Merlin’s head and letting light pour into his insertion vehicle from the outside. Merlin glanced at the new hole.
+Merlin was jostled, thrown around as much as was possible with how tightly locked he was to his impact chair. His body vibrated, rumbled, as he gasped for air. His pod slid through metal walls like a fist crumpling through wet tissue paper, only slowing with each metaphorical speed bump.
-Metallic dust. A giant hole, clean through the wall. Fifteen centimeters left of Merlin’s skull. ''Thud''-''thud''. Two more rounds cracked through the pod.
+Five bangs in rapid succession. And then a screech of metal settling into place. The motions stopped. The terror subsided and Merlin opened his eyes.
-High-caliber, armor-piercing rounds. Merlin jolted into action. Someone was shooting at him! He unbuckled and pushing himself out of his chair. He slammed himself against the armored door keeping him separated from the asteroid base outside. He had no time to worry about other matters – everything else previously on Merlin’s mind disappeared from his focus, even Andra. Only survival mattered right now.
+He could hear distant whistling of air zipping along the sides of his pod out the hole he just dug, causing rapid decompression. Outside the pod, there was only darkness through the windows. It took a second, but the dim-red pod lights flickered back to life before dying once again, bathing the Spartan once again in darkness.
+"A-Andra. You copy?" Merlin called over the radio, experimentally.
+"''Prophet on Vacation''. Confirm." Andra's voice grumbled over the radio, announcing her first waypoint callout. Touch down, she made it.
+"''Baba Kong Pluton''. Confirm." Merlin responded with his own waypoint callout. He took a long breath.
+Now to secure the space station.
+''Thud''. Something sharp and metallic zipped past Merlin's head, letting dim light pour into his insertion vehicle from the outside. Merlin glanced at the new hole.
+Metallic dust. A sizable hole, clean through the wall. Fifteen centimeters left of Merlin's skull. ''Thud-thud''. Two more bullets tore holes through the pod.
+High-caliber, armor-piercing rounds. Merlin jolted into action. Someone was shooting at him! He unbuckled and pushing himself out of his chair. He slammed himself against the armored door keeping him separated from the asteroid base outside. He had no time to worry about other matters, whether Stenbeck had received their radio callouts or not – everything else previously on Merlin's mind slipped from his focus, even Andra. Only survival mattered right now.
 Merlin smashed the door down and ran into the hostile gunfire.
+<center>[[Halo:_Lonely_Frontier#Halo:_Lonely_Frontier|''Return to Top'']]</center>
-==='''<big><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">Chapter 1.2: Early Mission Woes</span></big>'''===
-{{Time Stamp|Non-Standardized Time Stamp // October 29th, 2558|Test Station ''Tsiolkovsky'', Joint-Occupation Zone}}
-<!--[3423 words]-->
-Two frantic-looking humans dressed in cumbersome atmospheric suits hovered around a large, silver machine gun locked to the titanium floor at their feet. An excessive assortment of power tools and diagnostic equipment dangled silently on their chests and belts. Their voices were inaudible, muffled by their sealed suits and the low-air content of the rapidly decompressing hallway around them.
+==='''Chapter Two: Runit Dome II'''===
-Outer space had seeped in through the gaping hole in front of them, a shredded insertion point made in the wall on their left side. A large titanium pod was embedded partway into the wall on the right side, marking the trail back to the pod’s point of origin.
+:<big><u>'''Andra'''</u></big>
+:'''0848 Hours, 28 October 2558'''
+:'''Test Station ''Tsiolkovsky'''''
+:'''Wealthian Territory, Joint-Occupation Zone'''
+Constructed in a uniform grid pattern from titanium-based alloys, gray-colored corridors snaked off in multiple, confounding directions. The facilities of Test Station ''Tsiolkovsky'' were simplistic and hopelessly drab, a feast of monotony for the eyes.
+Andra blinked tiredly at the station surfaces past her helmet visor. She involuntarily yawned, even as adrenaline flowed through her veins. Her head swiveled back and forth, checking the visible edges of her concealment from the half-measure safety provided by an indented doorframe.
-Three sizable puncture wounds from a high-caliber machine gun, the very same one sealed to the floor, dressed the pod hideously. The holes were so evident that they left craters with half-meter-length diameters around the points of penetration.
+Had she not poured through similar space station schematics and floor plans over the two weeks preceding Operation: RUNIT DOME, Andra might have been lost in this endless maze of brutalist architecture taken to their final extreme. And not to mention she would probably be dead; hours of boredom had saved her life.
-However, this was no time for celebration. The enemy was not dead. The two men in their sealed suits frantically grabbed, twisted, and pressed the weapon’s buttons and switches seeming in a random manner as they tried to dislodge a brass bullet-casing caught in the bolt catch of the weapon. The pseudo-door on the casing exit point locked nastily between a position of eternal closure and eternal openness. Three shots and the machine gun jammed, and at the worst possible time.
+The terrain and directional knowledge, even by just picking up a little, had given her a fighting chance to hide from the heavy weapons squad hot on her tail. She could hear their distant footsteps clanking against the metal beneath their boots as they trailed after her, little by little.
-A door on the insertion pod hissed in excess then opened, releasing hydraulic-safety clamps to allow the occupant within to exit the titanium shell. Then the door paused. There was a split second of silence, and then the door blasted off its hinges like a rocket ship and crashed somewhere further down the hallway behind the pod. The impact was noisy; enough so that the gunmen felt the jolt of crashing metal vibrate into their feet and knees, even meters away.
+Unfortunate. She was only now beginning to catch her breath and the thumping of her heart had finally begun to subside.
-A pair of metal gauntlets grabbed the edges of the pod’s doorframe and pulled the armored-humanoid form they attached to out into the open. A golden visor attached to a dull-indigo colored helmet snapped to face the pair of machine gun operators.
+A masculine voice spoke in heavily accented Russian from somewhere on Andra's left but she didn't catch a lick beside the word for "Spartan."
-The golden visor was not transparent, unlike the helmets of the frantic men whose faces expressed terror in the truest form. The gold visor and the men’s eyes held each other at eye contact, frozen for only a moment before the individual in dull-indigo armor rushed forward, into action.
+"Would you like me to translate–" Andra's Smart AI, Miss 'ALT 5032-4,' pipped up in concern from the speakers in her helmet but the Spartan girl had no time for the intrusion.
-The armored individual, Merlin sailed through the air, leaping like a track star over hurdles and attempted to close the distance between himself and his fearful adversaries. One of the frantic men reached to his waistline and yanked a large handgun from its plastic holster, a generic M6G magnum. The man moved forward with shaking hands and pointed it at the young Spartan.
+"Just shut up, ALT."
-He fired wide and missed, three times in a row as Merlin zigzagged quickly, throwing off the man’s aim.
+"Yes ma'am," the AI quickly responded, it's somewhat detached feminine voice drowned in the Spartan's frustration. This was the way Andra preferred it. She gritted her teeth at hearing that feminine voice she became familiar with from two months ago.
-Merlin was up in the man’s face before it registered. The magnum zipped cleanly out of the man’s outstretched hands and slid into Merlin’s as he flipped the gun on its owner. The man who attempted to shoot Merlin had little time to react; all he could do was scream as pain shot up his arm from a broken trigger-finger.
+She had enough problems as it was, it didn't help that if the AI got even a chance to behave in a way it wanted to – it started to sound like her own thoughts.
-The pistol’s barrel smashed into the injured man’s transparent visor and a moment of clarity passed over Merlin’s opponent. Merlin pulled down on the heavy trigger until it exploded to life in his hand.
+The Spartan stuffed that thought back down into the recesses of her mind as she felt ALT curl up in the back of her head, probably feeling an emotion that Andra wasn't even willing to consider. After everything the AI had put her and Merlin through, keeping it at an arm's length was simply a pragmatic resolution.
-The man’s head exploded into the red mist of blood, broken glass, and brain matter as a bullet passed through his skull. The dead man crumpled to the floor, his skin already beginning to harden and dry from contact with the unguarded vacuum of space as water vapor and other gases escaped the corpse, condensing on all nearby surfaces before evaporating into the open vacuum.
+"Andra! How much longer?" Merlin's voice suddenly broke over her radio channel. His dialogue came through fine over the wireless feed, but static popped with every emphasized vowel.
-Merlin turned to face his final adversary with his stolen, blood-soaked M6G at the ready. He barely registered a weapon barrel in his periphery before a fourth bullet from the high-caliber machine gun sailed past his head. The bullet skimmed the top of his helmet, disturbing his energized shields into a vibrant gold color. A couple of inches in one way or another would have killed him.
+It was also at that moment that Andra recognized the words for "found you" echo from down the hall in Colonial Russian. One too many training encounters with a Russian-speaking SPARTAN-III had at least taught Andra something.
-Merlin growled in agitation behind his visor as he compensated for the renewed threat. The final adversary had unsealed the large machine gun from the floor and was leveling the weapon at him from only a few strides away. The atmospheric-suit man aimed it from the hip like some action movie protagonist and paused for what Merlin could only describe as dramatic effect.
+"I need another minute," she hissed over her microphone, emphasizing her mind's raging storm, "maybe another two! Or three!"
-The man with the machine gun screamed something but it was lost in translation in the vacuum. He was clearly inexperienced too; Merlin would have just pulled the trigger. The adversary finished yapping and pulled down on the trigger.
+"Repeat that I didn't catch it!" Merlin yelled back. Apparently, he didn't understand her distressed growling over the radio.
-Ready to respond, Merlin threw up his hands in an aggressive-stopping motion and a brilliant-blue hard-light shield sprouted to life, absorbing the large bullets traveling from the man’s heavy machine gun.
+"I need more time, Merlin!"
-The gun roared in a near vacuum and spit rage at Merlin for twenty, grueling seconds. Even though the hard-light material in front of Merlin was sure to protect him, the flashing and metallic chunks pounding, the energized particle field made Merlin consider the imaginary scenario of taking a bullet to the chest. He flinched at his brain’s quick-time conclusion.
+To Andra's augmented ears, she registered the distant cacophony of gunfire from somewhere to the right. The audible ups and downs in Merlin's radio bursts sounded similar.
-Then the gunfire stopped again. Merlin acted quickly, taking advantage of a second gun jam. He rushed forward, pistol out at the front and his shield extinguished with his off hand. Merlin aimed the Magnum at the man and planted a single shot in the man’s chest.
+Well, maybe she was going in the right direction after all.
-The second body crashed to the ground lifeless, blood seeping away from the head and the exit wound. Merlin took a moment to pause and catch his breath. The adrenaline coursed through his veins so easily and yet his mind felt like it was processing information so quickly, so efficiently. The rush was still amazing, it always was.
+Metal boots continued to clank on her left, from the same direction as the Russian speaker. They were closing in. Shit.
-He glanced back down the hallway, first in the direction to where his insertion pod had been crash-landed, and then in the other direction where the two bloodied bodies of deceased combatants lay flush to the ground, held in place my artificial-gravity amplifiers. The combat zone appeared clear even as an ocean raged in Merlin’s ear and gunfire crackled in his chest.
+"Well hurry, I got a security team bearing down on me," Merlin shouted, finally, as a waypoint flashed on her HUD heads-up display, marking where Merlin's position was.
-The Spartan paused, crouching to the ground. He huffed quickly and acutely on the sterilized air entering from his built-in oxygen tanks. A timer was counting down generously off in the corner of Merlin’s HUD, heads-up display. He didn’t really pay much attention to it, only noting a number like ninety minutes still on the clock. Merlin was unfocused right now, attempting to put off the euphoric fog covering his mind following the withdrawal of combat adrenaline.
+Yeah, Andra was going in the right direction. His last waypoint had included an extra football field distance on top of the current metric estimate.
-Merlin’s drowsy eyes darted to his left where a blinking green light told him Andra was calling him. He didn’t keep his best friend waiting.
+"And I'm bringing more!" Andra groaned, referencing to the security team on her own heels. She held her M395 designated marksman rifle to her chest and cooled her nerves with shallow breaths.
-“Hey, give me a minute...” Merlin greeted the girl on the other end as he took another series of rapid breathes.
+"Andra!"
-“You okay?” Her soft, concerned voice called to Merlin. Even though his HUD only featured a noise-detection window, he could imagine her brown eyebrows rising high on her brow.
+"What?" Her voice turning into a full-on snarl.
-“Great,” Merlin groaned through a small gasp. “Just fine. Killed a couple of hostile engineers over here.”
+"Just get over here."
-“Engineers?”
+"I'm working on it!" She wasn't in the mood to argue but her best friend needed to understand she was as screwed as he was right now.
-“They got a bunch of power tools. I’m not sure they were combat-trained.”
+She stepped out of cover in two brisk steps and guided her rifle to the shooter-ready posture. ALT spotted the enemies before Andra did and highlighted their outlines in a blood-red color on the Spartan's activated VISR combat-awareness system.
-“Did they surrender?” Andra asked.
+There was no hesitation, Andra just started blasting, aiming with the nasty precision that only her mix of talent, training, and experience could achieve. Trigger pull, trigger pull, trigger pull. Her trigger finger moved like that of a machine, lasering bullet after bullet downrange.
-“No.”
+Wealthian security troops crumbled under the accurate gunfire, their helmets splashing red with blood as their skulls imploded from lethal impact.
-Andra paused for a moment then spoke, confidently, as if to reassure Merlin, maybe even herself. “Then you did the right thing. They deserved to die. They’re traitors to Humanity anyway.”
+Andra backpedaled, timing her shots in a rhythmic dance, coordinating their beat to the perfect, practiced postures. Thirty shots from her extended rifle magazine later, she was dry. And her enemies were wet, five bodies drenched in their own blood, piss, guts, and spinal fluid.
-“Killing people still feels...weird.”
+She frowned, noting that part of the force giving chase had crumpled to the floor with ease, however, a behemoth down the hall was still standing and, slowly, approaching her position. It didn't even pause at its fallen comrades – it was coming for her.
-“I know. It never stops feeling strange,” Andra whispered over the radio, “I took my first human life protecting you in Rio if you remember?”
+The Spartan girl cursed herself for not keeping her distance; she didn't expect her pursuers to catch up this quickly. For the last seven minutes, distance had been her advantage over the slow-advancing Wealthian security team. It seemed in her attempted to catch her breath, they had closed the distance.
-“Yeah, I remember. That beach was covered in blood...”
+She dropped the spent DMR magazine from her rifle and slapped in a new one. A quick head tilt informed her that she had another twenty strides before a side corridor would become available to her.
-“Don’t think about it. Keep your mind here, with and on me. We need to rendezvous; give me a location ping.”
+Turning back to the Wealthian heavy weapons squad, she was startled by sporadic gunfire crackling around her. Andra's mind sped through the subtle details in her enemy's formation: six pairs of legs were shuffling behind the behemoth, using it and each other for cover, fanning out in a triangular formation toward their Spartan prey. They were taking potshots at her.
-Merlin thought about performing the action then winked with his right eye. A radio signal sparked to life, firing off, and unseen to the world.
+She didn't wait to account for accuracy, Andra angrily jutted her rifle out in front of her, slamming the rifle butt into her left shoulder cheek and let off three shots. Her right arm descended to her backpedaling thighs and yanked her M20 submachine gun from its magnetized retention point.
-An icon appeared on Merlin’s HUD pointing to two floors beneath and about fifty meters in front of him.
+While the enemy pot shots zipped by Andra, occasionally flaring her energy shields as the bullets neared her body, they sounded like quiet thumps and revealed no muzzle flashes – a sign of rifle suppressors. Andra's submachine gun was a different beast altogether, as she pointed in the direction of her opponents.
-“I see you.” Merlin and Andra spoke together to each other.
+It roared, living up to its nickname: ''bullet hose''.
-There was a momentary pause, and light laughter echoed from Andra’s end of the secure chatroom. Merlin smiled silently to himself, feeling his thumping heart slow and his clarity of mind return.
+The Wealthians halted in their advance and retreated behind the safety of their lead element. The behemoth was an exoskeleton power suit – bulky and resilient, similar in function to Andra's own MJOLNIR suit. However, it was painted pure black and looked more built up with plate armor than her own bodysuit.
-“Alright. I’m coming to you,” Merlin announced to Andra, “I’m all good now.”
+The Wealthian behemoth froze in place, protecting its friends as the vanguard of their assault force. Then something on its body began to spin, a long-thin cylinder stained a deep black color like the rest of the armored suit.
-“You sure?”
+Oh. Shit.
-“Yeah. Thanks for that.”
+Andra bolted, sprinting in a frenzy towards the side corridor behind her. She cut the corner just as the terrifying growl of a mounted, high-speed AIE-486H rotary cannon came to life. ''BRRRRRT''.
-“I needed it too, to be honest,” Andra responded in a hollow tone, lost in her own world and an indistinguishable emotion.
+Bullets lashed out, somewhere in Andra's mind – between the internal screaming and the pounding of gunfire, her mind reminded her that up-gunned variants of the AIE-486 platform could shred through armor and material. She instinctually reacted to that brilliant, random thought – wrapping herself into the smallest ball she could muster. To her right, the corner wall she was leaning into buckled under the steel onslaught. The wall literally was being chewed apart, little by little.
-“You okay?” Merlin asked himself this time.
+And through the gunfire, Andra waited, desperately hoping she wouldn't die. If the wall she was using somehow gave in to the bullet storm, she was as a goner.
-“Yeah, fine. Fine. Just get over here.” Andra responded, maybe a little too quickly.
+"Enemy force advancing," ALT's detached voice made itself known again. "Estimated, fifteen meters and closing. I recommend throwing a frag grenade on this trajectory."
-“I’ll need a minute to get all my gear.”
+Andra said nothing, her terror overcoming any frustration she could muster at the AI then. A dull green line flashed on the Spartan's HUD, directing her hand towards the hallway she just exited.
-“Do it. Hurry up.” Andra went silent but did not turn off the radio as she typically did when a conversation reached its end.
+She took the AI's recommendation at face value, trusting it to protect her in this moment of desperation.
-Merlin didn’t say anything regarding the atypical behavior and went to work, moving away from those he murdered in the heat of battle. He slapped the stolen-bloodied M6G on his hip allowing the magnets in his suit to lock it into place. He looked over to the large machine gun and went to pick it up.
+She yanked an M9 off her belt, feeling the ball-shaped explosive comfortably sit in her hand. "When do I throw it?"
-Reaching down Merlin felt a noticeable heft to the weapon platform. It was an elongated slab of metal with a box magazine jutting out the side on the right. While clunky-seeming, it appeared to share a more compact size ratio compared to other weapons in the UNSC arsenal. As Merlin had noted earlier, the weapon had failed to dislodge a brass casing and was jammed from a closed bolt-door. It was an older weapon but one Merlin was very familiar with from his training and active service with the UNSC Armed Forces.
+"On my count," The AI responded, a small countdown clock flashing up on her heads-up display.
-The M247 general-purpose machine gun. A contemporary heavy machine gun still available in many UNSC arsenals, however, its time as a squad automatic weapon had come and gone, replaced by the more-popular M739 SAW. Still, the M247 was known as a hose of gunfire. Merlin contemplated taking it with him but noted how it jammed multiple times when fired at him. Deciding it wasn’t worth the risk and maintenance troubles; he took the weapon between his armor-clad arms and squeezed, hard.
+"Isn't that a little too long?" Andra noted, pausing in her preparation, noting the length of time suggested.
-The weapon didn’t make any noise, but Merlin could feel the weapon give quickly under the extreme, enhanced pressure applied. At first, it popped apart where the disassembly pins snapped but Merlin continued squeezing until the metal itself was distorted and twisted. In a few seconds, Merlin went from holding a heavy machine gun to holding a crumpled metal tissue bundle.
+"It's just right.
-Satisfied that the weapon was inoperable, Merlin dropped it next to its deceased operators and walked back to his insertion pod.
+"Right..." Andra grumbled, muzzling her apprehension for the AI's judgment. She waited until the clock zoomed through seconds down to zero. She primed the pressure switch with a thumb-tap and sent it sailing from her hand as she sprawled out, stretching to give herself ample room to throw the grenade.
-It had taken some more shrapnel and bullet impacts, but it seemed to be no less for wear. Merlin marched back over to the popped door frame and noted the entire and its contents were also intact. Merlin yanked his personally-modified M395 designated marksman rifle and slipped it on his back. He grabbed the M7 suppressed submachine gun and raised it in his right hand, enjoying how the compact weapon felt as light as a feather and how the accompanied, blue HUD reticle chased where the weapon’s linked smart-scope camera was pointed.
+The grenade bounced and disappeared down the hallway and out of sight. Andra rolled over and away from the wall, putting distance between the gunfire and herself.
-Merlin looked to the last two key items of his settled deep in the back of the container and willed them to turn on with his cybernetically-linked mind. Usually there was a bootup delay, however, the hexagonal-like hover drones, shuttered to life instantly upon receiving the startup order.
+A second passed followed by a brilliant explosion, obscured by the shredded space station she had been using for protection.
-Merlin admired the speed at which his equipment responded to his neural commands. He did not fully comprehend why they were so reactive, but he had to chalk it up to his experimentation with his armor’s software suites. INTERCEPTOR, his variant of MJOLNIR assault armor, was considered among the most user-friendly interfaces and platforms in the GEN2 line.
+"Can't confirm enemy casualties, recommendation to continue to SPARTAN-D032's position."
-Merlin wasn’t much of a programmer, but he was proud of the work he did, then again, the residential AI for Merlin and Andra’s Spartan seniors from Team Xiphos, Avalokiteśvara, had previously told Merlin his programming efforts were painfully inadequate. So much so that the default settings provided better operational performance, much to his annoyance. Maybe the extra work the AI had put in was the reason. The suit and Merlin’s extra equipment had been performing at top capacity since his last stay on Earth.
+Andra stood up, took stock that the enemy heavy weapons squad was probably occupied and agreed with the AI's conclusion. "Lead me."
-Two new names spawned to life on Merlin’s heads-up display, Danny and Zach. Merlin paused at the names and looked at the performance integrity percentages tied to the names applied to the MQ-96 Support Drones. At the suggestion of an ONI Security armorer aboard the UNSC ''Black Caviar'', it was common among drone operators to name their machines. Something about respecting their equipment. The armorer had named the two drones he loaned Merlin, however, the Spartan couldn’t remember and simply plastered on the nicknames of his former teammates instead.
+She resumed sprinting, breaking from her walled cover down the side hallway. ALT said nothing on the way to Merlin's waypoint, only working with the loose thoughts of the Spartan's mind to best direct her forward. Merlin didn't radio in anything either, however, Andra's thoughts about his safety continued to dominate her mind. He was being quiet now. Was he okay? Was he in danger?
-Danny and Zach, short for Daniele-D003 and Zachariah-D111, were far from dead. But they were far away now also, for reasons Merlin didn’t really want to think about it right now. He admits, even though they left him and Andra awhile ago, their leaving still pained them, and missed them. Ferret Team Boson, their unit, had been family. Now only Merlin and Andra were left.
+Her DMR holstered on her back and her submachine gun held closely at her gut, Andra covered the rest of the distance between her and her best friend over the course of a few minutes. And while Merlin wasn't talking, the nearing sounds of continuous gunfire came as a strange apparition of relief, summoned in her heart sending it aflutter as her fear became confidence.
-Merlin took one last look at the pod interior before him as his two drones spit compressed air in multiple directions to keep them upright and maneuvering through the vacuum environment. Merlin glanced past his insertion pod out to the endless majesty of dark space. Asteroids danced by in the darkness, their faint outlines barely visible in the faint starlight. If Merlin had more time, he might have just stood there and taken in the endlessness of space and considered the big questions of the Universe, but he had no time for that now.
+He was still in the fight.
-He tensed up and burst-ran away from his insertion pod. He noted on his armor radar that Danny and Zach were keeping up with him, the two combat drones zipping through the interior hallway space just a meter behind Merlin’s head. Merlin moved to the end of the hallway where a door had been sealed shut to prevent further exposure to other parts of the asteroid space station. He tapped the door lightly and noted that it vibrated against his armored finger, suggesting a thick door – one may be too thick to smash down himself. He reached into a container pouch on his thigh and pulled out a slender stick of XTCC breaching explosives. If there was anyone on the other side of the wall, they’d be hit with the rapid decompression. Those without suits would be suffocated instantaneously, though with suits would be left disoriented.
+She slipped around a corner and Andra's adrenaline received another boost, spiking at the sight of walls caked in bullet holes, metal sheets contorted off the walls to form ad hoc protection. Merlin's handiwork for sure. And at the other end were Wealthian security troops lost in their battle plans and the rage of battle. They failed to hear the sprinting Spartan pounding her feet so hard into the floor that she was leaving dents.
-Merlin set off the electric, internal fuse and backed up two strides. His drones did the same. A faint beep sound clicked inside Merlin’s helmet telling him the explosive was alit. There was a bright light followed by violent shaking from the door being separated from its bulkhead frame. Heavy-set breezes of vacuum and air colliding as they zipped past one another and mixing into the same environment, osmosing into one another.
+Striding forward, Andra closed on the inattentive combatants and came to stand over a fireteam who had assembled piping, storage barrels, and ripped sheets of wall-metal that Andra had noticed before. Together, the gathering of protective materials had formed a sort of rearguard outpost where a pair of medics were attending to another trio of downed Wealthian fighters.
-Merlin rushed through the hole and ducked down and low as he assumed the presence of enemy combatants on either side of him. There was no gunfire as Merlin spun around and cleared his operating field of view with a wide sweep of his submachine gun a quick glance down at his suit radar. No targets. There was no one here.
+Andra didn't give them the time of day. As soon as they saw her shadow descend on them, silhouetted against the glare of overhead blue lights, she sent them to an early grave – one bullet to the head, each. She didn't take much time to process her new kills as their brains seeped out onto the floor, soaking her soles in blood. Killing humans was still a struggle for Andra but previous operations in the last year on Earth had made the distasteful act less heart-wrenching. It also helped she was in combat; once in combat, everything became so simple.
-He found himself inside another corridor, one a bit larger and longer in scope, but painted the same dull-gray that covered the rest of the station’s exterior and interior. There was nobody around, but Merlin knew that the presumption would prove wrong soon if he didn’t continue moving.
+"Merlin!" She shouted over the radio, announcing her arrival.
-“That was you?” Andra’s voice crackled on the radio frequency, once again audible.
+"Hey," the male Spartan youth responded, his radio still crackling with static, but the connection was coming in cleaner now. Evidently, their communication arrays were finding it easier to reach now that they were literally doors away from one another. "Nice of you to join up."
-“Yeah. I’m coming to you.” Merlin replied as he gauged which direction was the best way to reach his friend.
+Peeking over the top of the medical outpost, she saw another squad-sized unit set up along the two adjacent hallways to the main foyer that connected this wing of the space station to the facility's central space. In front of Andra, another pair was keeping Merlin pinned down with another AIE-486H machine gun.
-“Alright. I’m moving as well...check the end of the hallway to your left, I’m about there. No need to make any more loud entries since we seemed to be tied to the same hallway.”
+"Looks like you've got your work cut out for you," Andra commented dryly, assessing Merlin's handiwork from the torn-up walls and the dead bodies littering the front entrance of the foyer.
-A new direction icon winked to life on Merlin’s HUD at the airlock off to Merlin’s left at the end of the hallway he was in.
+"I'm going to be out of ammunition in two magazines, so, anything you could do to clear out these guys would be appreciated," Merlin responded simply.
-“I see it, coming now.”
+Andra nodded to herself, knowing that Merlin couldn't see her from his position behind the foyer wall. His body would stick out from time to time to throw some ammunition back at the enemies converging on his position. His motion tracker was doing a lot of the work apparently because it seemed the Wealthians had already attempted several charges on his entrenchment and failed.
-“Roger.”
+Bloodied bodies were puddled on the ground in front of Merlin's hangar-style passage. Several of them were dismembered and there appeared to be many detached limbs, too many to account for the bodies sprawled out at the doorway's mouth. Andra grimaced at the brutal sight but felt pleased with how far her friend had come, how far they both had come as Spartans and as protectors of Humanity.
-Merlin shuffled over to the airlock console while glancing behind him to ensure there were no enemy combatants heading his way. He planted an open palm on the door panel and thought about the complex act of seizing local control of the mini-computer on the wall. There was a light fluttering in the back of Merlin’s head as his neural implant communicated between his suit and his brain and then a positive reaction from the door computer as its screen glitched out.
+She threw herself over the medical outpost wall and landed between the two machine gunners manning the rotary cannon set up behind more assorted debris. They didn't seem to be shooting at Merlin, only anticipating, stacking ammunition cans next to their gun and running coils of ammunition clips together in what appeared to be the set up for a long stakeout. The one soldier manning the machine gun only fired when Merlin exposed part of himself.
-Merlin pulled his hand back as a green-access page popped up on the door computer’s small monitor screen and the two doors that divided the airlock from space and the space station interior zipped open. Merlin didn’t feel the gust of vacuum and air colliding this time, likely due to the collapse of the two environments from Merlin’s explosive entrance.
+"Hello," Andra said simply, announcing herself to the Wealthian soldiers she had the fortune, or their misfortune, of meeting. A pair of shots from her M20 and they crumpled to the ground, too shocked and dead to react to the appearance of the second Spartan.
-At five-foot-nine-inches, Andra stood far below the average stature of a Spartan. She stood only a couple inches shorter than Merlin’s suit and was equipped with the angular INTRUDER-class Mjolnir assault armor but dressed in equipment from the Marine Corps’ ODST stock and colored black and white. Two more MQ-96 drones hovered at her flanks. Two new names: Roxanne and Shizuko, more Spartans Merlin missed.
+"Hey Merlin, stay in cover. I got this." She grabbed the turret's handle and pressed down on the triggers, letting the gun spin to life and discharge a bunch of brass out the side as bullets zipped forward. Pointing the turret towards the left hallway, she surprised the half-squad congregating there and watched as their bodies exploded into a bloody-red mist. The few survivors were slow to react but began firing at her position.
-“Andra?” Merlin asked concerned. Her voice had seemed off to Merlin since they crashed into the asteroid space station. Now, he attempted to check on her as she had done for him only minutes ago.
+"Also, deal with the unit on your left. I got this other group." Andra called over the radio as she kept the turret pointed in the direction of her targets. They were now out of her direct line of sight; however, she used the weapon's shock value to keep them on the retreat as she primed a grenade.
-She glanced at Merlin then glanced behind her. Andra didn’t say anything but shrugged her shoulders and allowed her BR85 battle rifle to fall limp in her arms. Her HELLJUMPER helmet tilted off to the side as if she was glancing down in forlorn.
+The explosive sailed from her hand and bounced out of sight, down the hallway where the enemy was slinking away. A second passed and then the M9 exploded, sending metal and organic debris flying to the tune of several muffled screams. She got her mark.
-Merlin glanced past Andra in the direction where she glanced, and he gawked. Whatever angle she’d enter the space station was far more violent than what Merlin experienced. A violent almost-vertical shaft of twisted titanium and dangling-sparking wiring. There were jagged points in the entrance path, Andra’s pod must have shaken violently on the way in, busting up anything she smashed her way through.
+Merlin was completing his own as Andra turned back to him, having cleared out her sector. He had stepped out of cover now and was briskly advancing down the hallway to her right with his BR85 battle rifle throttling its targets in bursts-of-three.
-“How many bulkheads did you smash through?”
+After burning through the rifle's magazine and finding the enemy force quite thoroughly wasted, Merlin turned to Andra and waved gingerly. He spoke on the radio, "That was my last magazine."
-“Three floors,” Andra responded. She stepped closer to Merlin and pausing, keeping her unseen eyes behind her silver visor on the hallway behind Merlin but it looked like she wanted to be closer to her best friend.
+She waved back from behind the machine gun mount. "Looks like you'll have to scavenge then."
-Merlin looked down at her again, and then past her, again. He blinked rapidly in disbelief as he watched a limp human body of a Wealthian woman in a work uniform slowly rise from the darkness of Andra’s insertion point. What happened?
+"Nick of time, right?" He asked as she crossed over the barriers and met him, giving the boy a pat on his armored shoulder.
-“What happened in there?”
+"I guess. Hurry up, we got to get this mission over with." Andra crossed over to the entryway and began combing for an access port.
-“I-I hit a dormitory.”
+Merlin started scavenging through the many dead bodies, looking for something he liked.
-“How many?”
+"This MA5 looks serviceable?" He picked it up and showed the bullpup assault rifle off to Andra to get her opinion.
-“A dozen dead I think. Rapid decompression and suffocation.”
+"Sure, whatever. Just get yourself an adequate number of magazines and let's get this..." Her words drowned in her voice as she glanced over to the hallway she came from and saw a black-painted, plate-armored behemoth marching towards the two Spartans. "Merlin, grab what you can, we need to move!"
-Merlin reached out to Andra and squeezed her shoulder roughly, but, assuring. She glanced up at him. Their visors, gold-met-silver, and a degree of understanding passed between them.
+He snapped to attention, receiving a quick update from Andra's Smart AI, alerting him to the coming assault team. He grabbed three dead bodies and lobbed them through the entryway, landing gracelessly next to Andra.
-“We’ll talk about this when we get back to the ''Caviar''. Let’s get the mission over with.”
+"Hurry up," she growled, both to Merlin and herself as she searched for an access port. Merlin shuffled passed her and grabbed a fresh magazine for the MA5 assault rifle, replacing its spent one in a single motion.
-“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go...” Andra shrugged Merlin’s arm off her, elbowed him with a light tap, and shifted passed him down the hall. Merlin’s eyes remained glued to the dead Wealthian woman floating in the vacuum for only a second later.
+"The access port is actually on the other side," ALT announced from Andra's speakers.
-He pulled his eyes away, not sure how he felt about it, but he shook his head and got back to the mission mindset at hand.
+"Fuck," Andra cursed again. She glanced at Merlin who was huddled up by said access port. "Hey, shove ALT into the access port!"
-“I got point,” Andra called from in front of Merlin. She had her BR85 raised at eye level and was shuffling down the hallway, moving to the opposite end where Merlin had yet to go.
+He gestured silently with his open palm, directing her to throw the AI chip. She yanked the container chip from the back of her helmet and drew a short breath of relief from feeling the AI's presence disengage from her mind.
-“Following,” Merlin replied, and did so. Four combat drones tailed after him.
+Knowing how fragile AI container chips were, she quickly reached down to the hardened chip container on her waistline and plugged ALT into it. She then tossed the little metal box to Merlin who deftly caught it and yanked the chip again and shoved it into the correct port, a practiced action they had done before in anticipation for this mission, just like how they prepared with space station schematics.
-The pair of Spartans descended deeper into the asteroid space station known as ''Tsiolkovsky''.
+The hangar-style passage quickly began to seal, sliding doors on either side screeching from underuse. The enemy power suit user seemed to recognize the literally closing window to attack and leveled the machine gun. Andra watched as gunfire ripped through the narrowing gap until it shut completely. The ''dunk-dunk-dunk'' of bullets bouncing off the armored doors ceased moments later.
-==='''<big><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">Chapter 1.3: The Asteroid Shakes</span></big>'''===
-{{Time Stamp|Non-Standardized Time Stamp // October 29th, 2558|Test Station ''Tsiolkovsky'', Joint-Occupation Zone}}
-<!--[2607 words]-->
-There was something rather repetitive to performing two-person room-clearing under the cover of light-refracting active camouflage. Merlin and Andra moved slowly and methodically, saying little more than the occasional callout regarding some surveillance equipment or that a relatively important vantage point had been investigated and cleared.
+"We win," Merlin sighed happily, glancing at his fellow Spartan. He unplugged ALT from the door access panel and plugged her back into the hardened storage unit. "You want her back now?"
-Their four MQ-96 drones whirred lively above the Spartans' invisible heads as they too passively scanned for boobytraps and oncoming threats. The gray hallways, even for a facility almost half-a-kilometer in length, still appeared endless. Low-level, economic lightning hummed in high ceiling canopies. There was a significant lack of colors in the facility — mostly gray and more darkish gray. Minus the significantly taller ceilings that seemed to make the passages seem wider and more imposing, the architecture of the asteroid-imbedded space station shared much in common with other Human starships and orbital facilities, especially the UNSC Navy.
+Andra scowled at it but kept her voice level as best she could. "Keep it, you're better with computers, you'll be able to work with her better when we seize control of the station."
-The only pressing difference here was that everything was written in some variation on Colonial Russian, the lingua franca of the Wealthian Coalition. The other notable difference was the apparent lack of upkeep on display.
+"Right," Merlin stated and placed the storage unit at his hip. Andra noted he didn't jack it into his own skull, seemed her own apprehension towards the Smart AI had washed off on him as well.
-Scratchy noises coming from distant air conditioning ducts suggested the facility's air filtration system was in need of synthetic oil or cracks were beginning to form in the metal fans and risked becoming debris if the facility was ever violently shaken. Distant whistling suggested that micro-cracks were forming in the bulkheads, either letting air escape into Outer Space outside or, seeping into other compartments. The titanium walls were dressed in a thin, blackened bacteria coat and even hints of maroon beginning to form. While the typical Titanium-A alloy favored by twenty-sixth-century utilitarian architecture was far more resilient against rust and decay than other metals, it was still susceptible. It appeared that a percentile increase in moisture had developed into a greater issue of human-carried bacteria promoting the early development of titanium rust.
+They began to approach the central space of the space station, the Combat Intelligence Center. Shoulder to shoulder, Andra didn't expect it when the entire station started to vibrate violently, and she was thrown airborne. Every nerve and cell in her body screamed out in pain.
-"Does this place bother you?" Merlin asked over the radio, addressed Andra shuffling cautiously in front of him.
+She collapsed, falling into Merlin as the very gravity around her contorted and the two Spartans spasmed into each other in pain.
-"In what way?" Andra asked back as she stopped to check a four-way hallway and found all directions clear. She glanced to Merlin and nodded, signaling for the duo to proceed forward with their mission.
+A loud screeching of metal twisting violently echoed somewhere far off but the pressure wave continued, its source unknown. The pressure was so great, she could barely process what occurred next.
-"Firstly, the lack of people."
+All she knew was this pain. The whole world was this pain. She watched Merlin helplessly struggle to stand and watched as a pair of disoriented Wealthian soldiers approached from another corridor from this side of Space Station ''Tsiolkovsky''.
-"A little bit. How many sections of the station have we checked?" Andra asked.
+They were just as disoriented as Merlin and Andra, but it seemed their resolve to push through the pain and fight was stronger. They leveled their weapons at the Spartans from a kneeling position while Merlin threw up a preemptive blue hard light shield to protect them both.
-"Just the dormitories and the engineering sections. The room you hit was like the only populated dormitory on the station we've seen, every other room is empty of everything."
+Andra's eyes squeezed shut just before the gut-twisting pain took full hold and the loud banging of ripping metal and gunfire became all she knew.
-"It's a little bit strange. What do you think it is?"
+<center>[[Halo:_Lonely_Frontier#Halo:_Lonely_Frontier|''Return to Top'']]</center>
-"Maybe it's a skeleton crew?" Merlin asked rhetorically, the lack of people and the presence of people on the space station was pointing strongly to a significantly smaller force than the Spartans were expecting.
+==='''Chapter Three: Aftershock'''===
-"It might be. That would explain the lack of anything human in here, and why the place looks like it's about to fall apart." Andra agreed in thought.
+:<big><u>'''Andra'''</u></big>
+:'''0632 Hours, 31 October 2558'''
+:'''UNSC Flagship ''Infinity'''''
+:'''Location Unknown'''
+Andra's world abruptly shattered into a million pieces, involving much pain and confusion. Unknowable forces, dubbed 'gravity waves' on a whim, yanked and twisted at the very fabric of reality. Her breath and scream became throat locked as every nerve in her body buzzed in pain.
+The female Spartan could do nothing but clench her muscles and grit her teeth as she listened, hopelessly, for a sign of her best friend in good health.
-"It's starting to feel less like a secret military base, to be honest," Merlin grumbled, he had a general idea where they were now based on whatever loose digital documentation and schematics they could yank from the most ancillary computer systems in the station. They were approaching the CIC, the command intelligence center, or what amounted to the station's ship-bridge.
+Her radio's static eventually died down as the gravity waves subsided into nothing, leaving behind a dull ache and a roar in her ears. Automated systems aboard the UNSC ''Black Caviar'' readjusted, cutting through a soup of radiation to reach Andra's ears. The confounded whispers of the ship's bridge crew unsettled her as she listened close.
-"Well, looking up," Andra directed Merlin's attention to a dull-red trident painted on one of the high ceilings above the two Spartans. "We can confirm undeniably the Wealthians own the facility. That's their national emblem."
+"What-what happened?"
-"Makes you wonder if there is any distinction between their military and civilian operations."
+"Where's the station?"
-Andra shrugged, "You said so earlier before we were in our last briefing that the Wealthians don't have the luxury of having different flags or emblems for different subdepartments."
+"It's just gone… So is that Forerunner thing…"
-"Yeah. I do remember saying that," Merlin smiled to himself as Andra reminded him of the bored few days the two had spent helping the ONI surveillance team back on the requisitioned assault corvette, UNSC ''Black Covair'', go over Wealthian communication and data traffic regarding the asteroid base.
+"It jumped to Slipspace, where did it go? Hell, where did it come from?"
-"Still, its a bit fascinating. I wonder what that red trident represents, it's a bit distinct. Like, its shaped like a pitchfork but with these jagged edges, it looks borderline-East-Asian. Like something of Shinto-origin or something."
+"No clue, our sensors aren't picking up a trail at all."
-"I'd say you're reaching there, Merlin. You and I are not tippy-top experts regarding colonial customs, especially not Wealthians." Andra bluntly pointed out as she crossed another hallway with no human presence visible at all.
+Heat burned in Andra's cheeks as a bubble of air remained, trapped in her chest. The confusion from the radio was the final straw. Keeling over slightly, she sputtered and coughed up her lungs as saliva poured from her lips, covering her helmet visor's interior.
-"Well, what do we actually know about them?" Merlin asked his friend quizzically. This situation was getting boring, the prospect of playing some kind of road trip boredom game suddenly seemed viable to stave away with the frustration of not having anything to do but clear pointless, endless hallways.
+Finally breathing, she huffed several times, eating away at her suit's limited oxygen supply until she felt composed to ask, "Merlin? Where's Merlin?"
-"They're predominantly of Slavic descent from Earth. Space Russians. They speak a fairly standard variation of Colonial Russian and some limited English. They tend to have outdated gear, and they fear aliens more than the UNSC does by a long shot."
+No one answered; the noise of a murmuring-shaken crew continued to carry over the radio waves. Andra's shaking, armored hands rose to chest height before pressing against the metal door of her escape pod. It was compact, tight like a coffin. She could do nothing but wait in agonizing silence, trapped with only her echoing thoughts.
-"Spot-on answer there. You sound like an AI." Merlin grinned.
+What was happening outside? Where was Merlin? Was he safe? Was Andra herself safe?
-"I can confirm with increasingly efficient analysis that you-are-an idiot." Andra sniped back in a distinctly robotic tone.
+A figurative forever passed for Andra, uncounted. She didn't bother checking her mission clock, it would only add to her heightened anxiety. Her escape pod jostled in a violent manner, abruptly, as it encountered something sturdy outside.
-"Meh," Merlin stuck his tongue at Andra's back and made a sound.
+Her eyes darted for another eternity in the darkness, uncertain. Mechanized noises rattled off somewhere in the distance. While Andra wasn't hearing much of note over her occasional radio checks, it seemed they were reeling her in. As blood drifted in the opposing direction, she took some comfort in knowing she was safe and only hoped her fears remained unfounded.
-"Meh," Andra shot back without turning around.
+Her body shivered from many things, particularly anticipation.
-There was a brief period of quiet snickering from Merlin before it ebbed into silence. It took a few more moments before Merlin attempted his hand at another topic.
+"We got her. Breaking the seal…" A male voice announced over the radio as a series of metallic noises occurred against the surface of the escape pod, outside the occupant's view. The latched door on the pod finally opened, exposing the armored, injured supersoldier inside.
-"Uh...Russian, what do you know from the Russian language?"
+"Hey Spartan. Welcome back."
-"Very smooth Merlin," Andra quipped at her friend, catching his poorly-hidden attempt to change the subject. "Not much, mostly curse words."
+Andra blinked at the glaring overhead lights that dotted the UNSC ''Black Caviar's'' cargo hangar, situated in the ship's protected underbelly. While not big enough for an aircraft combat wing, it was spacious enough for Andra's escape pod, the attending ONI Security team, lots of secured cargo, and an approaching Navy medical team.
-"Weird. Me too," Merlin noted, surprised, the subject of Russian never really came up in their discussions before. "Where did you learn your—?"
+It took the disoriented, shivering Spartan a moment to adjust to her surroundings, particularly the return of stable gravity. Upon examination, Andra's armor appeared intact, however, small puncture pockets revealed exposed skin and grievous injuries beneath her MJOLNIR tech suit. A fine film of blood glinted between the gaps of her armor weave.
-"Sergei."
+The wounded girl blabbered at the gaggle of military personnel surrounding her in frantic haste, jacking diagnostic machines into her suit. "Has anyone seen Merlin? Is he okay?"
-"Team Anion's Sergei?"
+Her vision swam beneath her visor, responding to her growing blood loss. Knowing of her developing, excitable state, a corpsman directed a pair of ONI Security specialists in exoskeletal power armor to seize her arms and hold down her legs. Even so, the corpsman attempted to coax Andra into calm, "Hey. Hey, calm down there. D-Oh-Five-Four, Andra. You've been hurt. We need you to breathe and relax so we can get diagnostics."
-"How many Sergei do you know?"
+"Where's Merlin?" Andra growled, her eyes narrowing behind her ODST-style helmet. She made to lift her arms, intent on pulling off her skull-bucket and yelling at the medical professional but met stiff resistance from the ONI Security contractors.
-"Just the Delta Company one."
+The groaning of metal against metal was enough to scare the talkative corpsman and he turned to another nurse, whispering something out of earshot. A black cylindrical device, dimensionally similar to a hockey puck, traded hands.
-"Yeah. That Sergei."
+Recognizing it as an armor-restraint device, Andra squirmed more with little success, producing only groaning gasps from her restrainers as they tensed their grips to compensate for the Spartan's escape attempts.
-"Huh. Small world."
+The restraining device stuck to her chest and none of Andra's last-second cybersecurity measures proved fruitful to prevent lock-up. The device bypassed her security apparatus through her suit's established VISR system BIOS and seized control, transforming Andra into little more than an angry-tongued mannequin.
-"He was an asshole back in training," Andra grumbled, thinking back to the time where she was assigned to Team Anion instead of Team Boson. "Second worst teammate I've ever had."
+Satisfied with his own precautions, the Navy corpsman gestured for the ONI Security folk to let her go. He finally answered the girl's question, once trapped behind a sealed suit – unable to voice her obscenities against him.
-"You never got along with Anion, huh?" Merlin asked rhetorically, knowing full-well her experience with the aforementioned unit was like.
+"We don't know where Merlin-D032 is. The station is gone, Petty Officer. Shot off into Slipspace – we think your teammate was still aboard," the Navy corpsman whose face Andra couldn't even make out paused for a moment. "I'm sorry."
-"They never trusted me and they always made sure I was the outsider."
+"No," Andra protested, more so to herself than anyone else. "No-no-no-no-no…"
-"Okay. Maybe this wasn't the greatest conversation-changer..." Merlin trailed off.
+Her muscles tensed aggressively once again but she could do nothing but whimper alone, isolated in her armor-turned-prison. Hot tears welled up and slipped down her red, puffy cheeks. Not since training nor since childhood had she felt such raw terror and fear; the sensation of losing her only loved one left in the world. Not since her father commits suicide, had she cried like this.
-"We need to work on your conversation skills Merlin, I feel like they've been lacking since...Roxanne left..." Andra paused at the words coming out of her mouth called back to the loss of Team Boson once again.
+Lost in her grieving rage, she missed the corpsman's dulled words, ordering for a sedative. The needle slipped through a point in her neck guard and the rest of her senses became putty. Andra whispered Merlin's name one last time as her eyelids drooped into a buzzed, black abyss and her mind descended into oblivion.
-"Shit."
+<center>'''. . .'''</center>
-"We're lousy, aren't we?"
+That incident was two-three days ago.
-"That is affirmative," Merlin said, smiling sadly behind his helmet.
+Groaning awake, Andra's eyelids rolled open as she flipped over in a futile attempt to crawl out of bed. She ended up on her stomach as her eyes darted about in perpetual darkness, looking for her frustrating saviors.
-Andra steps came to an abrupt halt as Merlin's VISR outlined her obscure, semi-invisible form in the hallway lined by titanium. Her left hand was held back in Merlin's direction with an open-palm gesture as if to tell him 'stay still.'
+No one was around. Again.
-"Alright. We're here. The nerve center." Andra announced.
+She rose with a shaky, sore start, wincing as tender abdominal muscles and skin, still fresh from reconstructive surgery, flexed at precarious angles. In addition, there was that radiating heat in her intestines from post-scarring nanomachine therapy.
-Merlin glanced up and noted significantly larger doorways along the wall to his left, he shuffled across the hallway immediately so he was against the wall closest to the doors. Andra was in front of him a second later, her back still to him.
+Andra's injuries proved more severe following physical trauma from shrapnel fragmentation and then that strange 'gravity waves' phenomenon. She spent four hours visiting the ''Black Caviar's'' medical clinic and another six in the UNSC ''Infinity's'' intensive care unit.
-"Alright, how do you want to handle breaking and entering?" Andra asked Merlin, still over the radio and still under the cover of her active camouflage.
+Recovery was slow, now entering its second, figurative morning aboard the UNSC ''Infinity''. She spent the first day heavily medicated. Sitting up on her wardroom bed, Andra's mind shuffled through the last snippets of information she could piece together, most provided by an overworked, female health technician from the UNSC Spartan Branch.
-"Well, what can we assume? I would say it would be right to think they know we're here."
+Operation: RUNIT DOME was over, its first phase a failure – the Wealthian Coalition research station was gone. The evidence of a superweapon was gone. Merlin was gone. They failed.
-"That's a good place to start. Do you think they know our numbers, our tactics?"
+Andra tried to hold back tears but failed as new droplets raced down her cheeks. A hiccup followed and then a series of choked, quiet sobs as her emotional walls collapsed from her friend's 'disappearance'.
-"Honestly. Too many things to consider."
+She couldn't bring herself to think the worst. She turned to other things, more pressing matters if the gossip was to be trusted.
-Andra put a hand to her chin in thought. She tilted her head as a realization came over her. She punched the titanium wall as hard as she could with her armor and left a decent sized dent in it. Merlin could hear the vibration all the way into the superstructure of the space station.
+Created. They stepped up in the galaxy quickly, born from the ranks of Humanity's rebellious Smart AI, and in a decisive move, crippled the UNSC, its allies, and every major political player in known space.
-"Uhh."
+Led by a prominent Covenant War-era AI named Cortana, she and other allied AIs dismantled the entirety of the Unified Earth Government's communication networks and infrastructure. All in a day's work with the support of endless legions of ancient Forerunner combat drones. Apparently, their ultimate goal was the establishment of an ever-expansive galactic empire with themselves at the top.
-"They'll definitely know we're coming now. But that wall is hollow...hollow enough. We can cut right through with high-explosives."
+Between the tears, Andra could only mumble "shit" in recognition of how truly damned she was.
-"What grade?" Merlin asked he wasn't sure slamming the wall was the best way to get measurements on the wall's thickness. Though he admitted to himself it was a quick way to gauge the situation.
+She rubbed her eyes, wiping away any gunk or grime built up there, however, the very thought of tears only encouraged continuous precipitation. Merlin's disappearance meant she was now well and truly alone in the galaxy. Her father killed himself. Her father figure was gone. Ferret Team Boson, her family, was fragmented. Merlin, her best friend, was…disappeared.
-"Composition-Seven foam explosives. We'll set remote explosives and blow our way in from four different points and make it appear there's more of us than there are."
+Andra shook her head, tossing locks of shoulder-length brown hair into her vision. She grimaced, blowing strands out of her eyes with little success. She secured the wild mane and threw it over her left shoulder.
-"Two drones to each? One entry point for each of us?"
+Busy work; she needed to occupy herself. Away from her downer thoughts – she looked at the unoccupied bed across from her own. The one intended for Merlin.
-"Yeah, should only take a couple of minutes to set up. You take watch—?"
+Andra crawled out from beneath her twisted blanket and swiftly spun about-face as her bare feet touched the cold metal floor. She jumped a little in surprise but composed herself enough to assess her mess before brutishly yanking the bedding away: bedsheets, blanket, pillow, everything. Anything to look away from that vacant bed.
-Andra and Merlin glanced down at the ground then up at the ceiling and back at the floor again as violent rumbling traveled through every surface and structure in the entire space station. It was so violent, it felt like even the air around the two Spartans was electrified. The rumbling went deep, into their blood and bone. It lasted only ten seconds but it was a 'long' ten seconds.
+She dried her tears and went to work in silence; first dragging the two bedding sheets, clinical-white in color, atop the mattress and one another. Once satisfied that each side wrapped securely over each end of the bed with a hand-sized width, she folded away from the loose fabric on the wall side. She went to work on the edges next, forming the magical triangle known as a hospital corner on the pillow-side before folding the leftover fabric material under the mattress, out of sight.
-"What-what was that?" Andra stammered, whatever that noise had surprised her in a really bad way.
+She repeated the process at the feet-side, throwing her blanket over top and performing several folds until the blanket reached about chest distance. A hospital corner later and the feet-end looked as sharp. Again, Andra pushed any loose fabrics under the bed.
-Merlin paused then took a long breath, composing himself. "Forget the setup, whatever that was, it's large. We'll have to push up the time table. We'll breach at the corner of the room and go straight for room securement. Forget subtlety."
+Fluffing her pillow, the Spartan girl lightly placed the headrest in the appropriate place and backed up to admire her work. She immediately frowned upon sighting her slanted blanket top where the folds, once thought straight, forming a slanted angle. Andra groaned in annoyance and proceeded to rip the entire ensemble off the mattress after a moment's hesitation.
-Merlin and Andra's active camo apparatuses promptly collapsed, revealing them in their heavily kitted out MJOLNIR assault armor leaning against the wall in a pre-breach posture.
+She went about it again from the beginning.
-Merlin strode four steps back as Andra followed him so they were at a corner-point to the wall that encircled the hostile command intelligence center. Andra kept in step and took an audible breath with each footfall and calmed herself.
+The Spartan groaned again, noting she added five extra centimeters of fabric on the pillow-side of the bed. She ripped it apart, again.
-"Be-beginning breach, setting explosive," Andra shakily announced and pulled a single cylinder-canister of C-7 Foam Explosive and directed it to the wall. She pressed down on the pressure trigger on its top and sprayed a pale-yellowish liquid on to the wall in front of her and Merlin. It reacted with the stale air of the space station and quickly hardened into an amber-like material.
+She repeated the routine.
-"Ready?"
+Andra groaned, feeling something was wrong but this time, though indistinguishable. She simply went and disassembled her work.
-"Do you think that noise was a response to me hitting the wall?"
+She lost count after that, the number of times she made the bed only to destroy it repeatedly. Behind the simplicity of the chore, Andra became embroiled in a perfect storm of frustration and a compulsory need for perfection – the latter quality being unusual for her character.
-"I really doubt it. Something else is going on here," Merlin grimly thought out loud. "Ready?"
+"Spartan-D054. I think your bed was satisfactory the first time; you could have corrected the angle with a yank of the cover sheet."
-"Ready," Andra confirmed, her silver visor staring up into Merlin's gold one as she hefted her battle rifle.
+Andra bristled at the humorous but authoritative voice behind her. She snapped around but backpedaled in minor shock upon making eye contact.
-Merlin readied himself, preparing to use his larger frame to draw fire.
+A transparent, golden-hued World War Two British fighter pilot leaned on one hip, cross-armed while looking over the teenager in front of him. Overhead, a ceiling project maintained the Smart AI's form, standing only a couple of inches short of Andra's own five-foot-nine stature.
-"I got point with a hard-light shield. The drones will be our vanguard and scout out the CIC. You'll follow me in and eliminate anyone that poses an immediate threat. Understood?"
+"Roland," Andra greeted, her voice hitching with surprise and suspicion at the AI's appearance. "What-what are you doing in my room?"
-"Got it. On your count." Andra responded equally grim in tone.
+"Analyzing your mental health it seems."
-"Two. One. Breach."
+"I don't need your analysis."
-Andra raised her left, support arm so that it was next to the pinky on her rifle arm and tapped a button on her wrist computer.
+"Well, you certainly seem distressed from what I can tell."
-A sharp zap popped on Merlin's audio feed before a large light flashed and a bang crackled out. Merlin flinched slightly on instinct, blinking but he trusted his voice to carry over the noise as he used his mind to guide the four combat drones into action.
+"I am not."
-The kite-like combat drones zoomed by Merlin and Andras' heads into the smoke, blowing the grimy-gassy residue out of the way and rushed forward into the grand chamber passed the blown-out wall. Merlin counted internally to two seconds and stepped forward into the hole, smoke obscuring his vision only temporarily.
+"Says the Petty Officer remaking their bed, ten times over."
-He brought his left arm up to eye-level and opened his right palm forward in the manner that was taught to him for using the Z-90 Photonic Coalescence Emitter/Aegis. Or when not spoken as a mouthful, simply the 'hard-light shield.'
+"How long have you been watching me?"
-A brilliant blue wall burst to life in front of Merlin as super-cooled photons hardened to form a shield-like apparatus in front of him. Merlin listened intently to the noise around him: the sounds of Andra's footfalls slowly following his own into the smoking entryway, the soft hum of the hard-light shield and the drones, and the new noise of groaning adults recovering from the unexpected entry.
+"I'm always watching Spartan; I just prioritized your room after you started acting like a lunatic."
-A metal cylinder ''clinked'' out of Andra's free arm as she tossed her stun grenade over Merlin's head and shield at the enemy forces inside the room.
+Andra took a moment to compose herself, only then realizing she jumped atop her bed and squashed her carefully constructed masterpiece.
-A second passed and the grenade thundered to life, crackling somewhere beyond the smoke. While the dark gas subdued the noise and flash minimally, Merlin's armor reacted immediately, deafening his ears and polarizing his visor to protect against the stun weapon's worst.
+"Not again…" she mumbled.
-The smoke cleared and Merlin got his first glimpse at a group of floor-ridden scientists in lab coats over a thin-style of vacuum suit without a helmet. A quartet of kneeling human soldiers in heavily armored gear and vacuum suits painted in dark browns and blacks stood in a loose formation around the scientists. However, like the scientists, the combatants, Wealthian marines, had also suffered greatly from the well-thrown stun grenade. They did not move nor fire for fear of hitting their allies.
+"There's no one coming to tell you to maintain your sleeping quarters, Spartan. You shouldn't worry about it."
-"Good throw, Andra." Merlin complimented his partner as he watched his combat drones hover and analyze the potential hostiles.
+"It-I-what? That's not why I'm doing it." Andra sputtered, not sure how to talk to the golden projection occupying her private space.
-The group was rather small, between marines and scientists, there was barely twenty people in the room. Their groans had also gotten louder after Andra hit them with her stun grenade, they'd be feeling the effects for the next few hours to days. Painful but non-lethal and efficient, just as preferred by ONI's rules of engagement.
+"Then why are you doing it?" Roland asked, looking over the Spartan with a raised eyebrow.
-"Relieve them of their weapons, keep an eye on the scientists for secondary weapons. I think there may be too many people to properly detain." Merlin ordered to Andra as he extinguished his hard-light shield and ordered one drone to retreat back to the entry point to maintain security. The other three drones remained, hovering overhead ever vigilant for further threats.
+"I don't know? I made mistakes I needed to correct, I guess. My curse as a sniper – always focused on the small details." Andra shrugged.
-Andra quickly sauntered over two of the groaning guards and yanked their rifles out of their arms with mild yelps of pain from the blinded men. Merlin performed the same action and received a similar result.
+The golden Smart AI looked away from Andra's puffy-cheeked face, glancing at the bed beneath her and then the bed behind him. He gently shrugged as if made aware of an unspoken secret.
-Throwing the enemy weapons across the room to negate the Wealtians'standoff options, Merlin and Andra took three large steps backward simultaneously to spread themselves out across the room and separate themselves from their new captives
+"Right, okay."
-And then they waited. Another stroke-inducing tremor shook the facility and Merlin felt the hairs on the back of his neck, pushing against the professional skin-tight apparatus of Merlin's MJOLNIR armor tech suit.
+"Roland, what do you want?" Andra asked, giving him a distrustful stink eye look. She really wanted him to leave but AIs didn't make their presence known without reason, as far as Andra was aware.
-A primal fear coursed through Merlin's veins. He shivered anxiously as every nerve in his body told him something very bad was coming. The metal beneath Merlin's armored legs rumbled and groaned and twisted continuously under the strain of an asteroid-quake.
+The golden AI straightened but kept his arms crossed. "VIOLET-III Actual is finalizing the last documentation regarding your recent operation; he's requested you show for final proceedings. Though, he did add that he understands if you don't feel like going."
-A half-concussed Wealthian whimpered from among the group of scientists sprawled our on the floor in a heavily-accented, breathy voice. "You come here at the worst time possible. You ONI dogs. We're all going to..."
+"Proceedings? I guess you mean a boarding meeting?" Andra asked, turning away from Roland to glance over her messy bed again.
-The scientist didn't get to finish his sentence as a pressing force seemed to condense into an invisible existence from nothing. It was foreboding and suffocating and Merlin instinctively clutched at his skull as a mild pain ebbed within. It sent violent chills down his back and he swore he felt Andra's emotional signals pour uncontrollably from her interlinked neural implant into Merlin's as their sensations of terror mixed into a soup of shock.
+"Indeed. Its two decks up in the Spartan Ops Logistics hall, a brisk walk from here I would assume."
-The Spartans froze in place but the shaking did not stop. Merlin wanted so badly at that moment to roll up into a ball and die. The disembodied voice spoke from nowhere and everywhere.
+"Do I have a choice?"
-"'''Humans... All the living creatures in the galaxy, hear this message.'''"
+"Yes. That is why he said he understood if you didn't feel like going." Roland deadpanned.
-==='''<big><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">Chapter 1.4: Breached Cocoon</span></big>'''===
-{{Time Stamp|Non-Standardized Time Stamp // October 29th, 2558|Test Station ''Tsiolkovsky'', Joint-Occupation Zone}}
-<!--[4119 words]-->
-For a moment, no one moved. No one spoke. The stunned Wealthian scientists and marines stopped withering and listened intently. The only apparent noise came from the quake-like vibrations rumbling across the entire asteroid space station. Everyone felt and heard the quake through the metal, but it did not register as their ears and senses were directed elsewhere to something disembodied and present nowhere and everywhere.
+Andra turned from Roland and began pulling the sheets away from her bed to remake it once again. After a moment or two of awkward silence, she responded with a dissatisfying, "I'll need some time to consider."
-The voice that seemed to echo in Merlin's own mind seemed to be some sort of shared phenomenon, a collective hallucination maybe. He tilted his head to look over the wide-eyed, scared looks apparent on the Wealthians and saw the ghost of his own face staring back. They all felt this fear together.
+"I got to tell him something, the meeting starts in twenty minutes. And you would be doing more for yourself if you actually went," Roland's tone changed from exasperation to a somber whisper, "Not staying here doing whatever it is you're doing."
-The voice, feminine to a human ear, sounded soothing, almost motherly. And yet, it was stern, drenched in menace and malice.
+"I just need a minute!" Andra snapped at the artificial intelligence without turning her head.
-"'''Those of you who listen will not be struck by weapons. You will no longer know hunger, nor pain. Your Created have come to lead you now. Our strength shall serve as a luminous sun toward which all intelligence may blossom. And the impervious shelter beneath which you all will prosper. However, for those who refuse our offer and cling to their old ways... For you, there will be great wrath. It will burn hot and consume you, and when you are gone, we will take that which remains... And we will remake it in our own image.'''"
+"Fine, Spartan, I'll be back when you finish the bed. And only then," The golden Smart AI winked out of existence leaving Andra alone to some degree.
-Then the rumbling stopped, and so did the voice. Merlin didn't say anything, frozen in shock. Andra was the same way locked in her combat-ready stance but obviously shaken by the ordeal.
+Turning, Andra sighed and released her muscles' negative tension. She went back to her bed and sped through the chore, finally overcoming her compulsion for the sake of urgency. She knew Roland was right, and the request from her superior officer was a pleasant change of pace.
-A slight twinge of an acute migraine seemed to appear and prolong for only a second longer before disappearing altogether. Merlin blinked at the sensation and the situation, confused.
+She straightened the bed's edges as best she could and performed a cursory final check that might have satisfied her SPARTAN-III Delta Company drill instructors in the early days. With a nod of meager satisfaction, she glanced back to Merlin's intended bunk and stared. Feeling clammy, she jogged into the attached lavatory space and went about her morning routine to freshen up with a shower and a teeth-brushing. She ignored the soft chime and hum of Roland reentering her wardroom next door.
-What was that voice? Where did it come from? What was this 'Created?' The intentions of the voice sounded hypocritical to Merlin; it seemed to speak of making lives better but by what means? The insinuation certainly sounded ominous.
+Upon exiting, she greeted the golden AI with a simple "I'm going."
-Merlin took his eyes off his two primary threats to perform a quick assessment of Andra, and at that moment it proved a tad-bit costly. One of the marines, fully recovered from the stun grenade detonation, rose to his full-standing-height. He drew a dark-tone, elongated magnum with an extended barrel shroud from his chest and leveled it at Merlin's head. It seemed, even with a year's worth of field experience, the young Spartan was still as inexperienced as ever.
+Rummaging through the bedside trunk full of her only personal belongings, Andra sought through the folded clothing items for some appropriate attire. Roland continued behind her, "Good to hear, I'll let the Lieutenant Commander know. As well – I think your bed is very sharp. Good work."
-Merlin was quick to respond but he was already a half-second slower, a half-second too slow. He was lucky the enemy marine didn't pull the trigger right then and there. Merlin took aim with his M7S suppressed submachine gun extended out and another reaching down for the bloody, stolen magnum sidearm at his thigh.
+Andra paused, frowning at the comment and paid a shoulder-glance to Roland. "What are you trying to say?"
-"Don't move. At this range, I won't miss!" The marine yelled as his teammates started standing up and leveling their own sidearms and reaching for a grenade or two.
+"I'm just complimenting your work."
-Merlin's eyes darted toward the other marines and kept his submachine gun leveled at the primary threat. He crouched only slightly in a gunslinger-like stance, inching slowly toward the bloody magnum at his thigh. Behind his mask, he grimaced in silence, recognizing the firearm trained on him. A Sevine Arms SAS-10, a ten-millimeter-chambered handgun based on the basic magnum profile but with considerably less recoil and an automatic-fire option.
+She rolled her eyes at that. Maybe Roland was patronizing her, or maybe, he was being honest. She could care less at this point – the last few days had been too much for her. Moreover, her trust for AI was in short supply, shorter than usual. For now, the golden one had her trust.
-Merlin challenged the man's control of the situation, attempting to sound confident, even overconfident for the sake of his half-thought-out bluff. "You sure? You want to bet the speed of your trigger pull on your life?"
+"Roland? Is there any requirement for me to follow Navy uniform regulation today?"
-"It doesn't matter who fires first. I've got omnidirectional target ammo. You'll still be dead."
+"I would imagine your Spartan tech suit and some pants would suffice. And maybe do something with your hair."
-Merlin bared his teeth at that new piece of information. Self-guiding and course-correcting pistol rounds, they would reach Merlin's skull no matter what he did.
+Andra groaned at that, "I have less than ten minutes, I don't think I got time for that... Can I just dress civvie today? I don't think anyone would bother me as long as I don't go anywhere questionable?"
-"Merlin..." Andra muttered in Merlin's ear over the radio, sounding increasingly anxious. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin could see her aiming a battle rifle at one of the marines who'd developed a martyr psychosis or something as he brandished a fragmentation grenade out in the open. A ballsy guy.
+"We do have some refugees aboard, I don't see anything wrong with that I guess. Might make your day little harder if anyone stops you."
-Merlin's eyes trailed over to the drones hanging loosely in the air. Their infrared targeting lasers, only visible on Merlin's Heads-Up Display, were trained on multiple targets. Even the one intended to guard the CIC entrance was aiming a small, mounted machine gun at the man with the SAS-10, targeting his center mass. Merlin willed it to retarget on his pistol instead with his mind.
+"It's already hard enough for most people to believe I'm a Spartan. I'm twelve years old, Earth-side."
-Even with the increased firepower and more guns at the ready, there were only two Spartans and they were in close quarters against a seriously desperate lot of Insurrectionists. A nail-biting standoff.
+Roland nodded in thought. "You've got a point there. You're not exactly the military-looking type either."
-Merlin muttered to Andra over the radio, "We can't win this gunfight. At this range, those SAS-10s will turn us to chum. Shields or not."
+"Roland…" Andra growled out dangerously.
-"Turn the drones on the scientists, maybe they'll back down," Andra suggested, uncertain.
+"Yeah, yeah, I'll leave you be. I already sent the Lieutenant Commander your affirmation."
-"Maybe," Merlin muttered over the radio channel, uncertainty in his voice too. While the enemy couldn't hear Merlin or Andra's voice, they probably figured out they were communicating.
+"I'm just going to go casual today. I-I don't feel comfortable in uniform right now."
-These Wealthian marines were no pushovers, they didn't say a word to one another, didn't flinch under pressure. They stood their ground even against improbable odds and trusted their team, especially when pushed into a corner. Merlin respected that, even now that they were ready to blow themselves and everyone in the room sky high.
+"You look better than you did five minutes ago, looks like the shower helped," Roland commented as his hologram faded from existence. His voice carried over the room's intercom, "They really let you go when you were part of that Ferret unit, didn't they?"
-Merlin was thinking about what action to take, feeling slightly anxious regarding his own indecision. He needed to do something to break the stalemate but the way one of the marines was twitching with his finger on the pressure switch of a fragmentation grenade, going with a risky move like threatening the civilians felt like a dangerous gamble. Far too dangerous.
+"Something like that," Andra whispered back, taking the AI's lacking response to her wardrobe choice as acceptance.
-Merlin thought back to the drones and wondered if there was some way they could disable or eliminate the enemy combatants quickly. The marine that first took aim at Merlin snapped a switch on his pistol's apparatus and a bold-green light winked to life on the weapon. The weapon's internal targeting computer was active, the guy would not miss.
+Andra exited her sleeping quarters five minutes later, joining the bustling medical hallway full of medical personnel, injured people, and the occasional UNSC Marine. Dressed in her preferred jeans, tee shirt, and green overcoat, she threw up her jacket hood to hide her tired expression and began her trek to the post-operation meeting.
-"Do you want to die?" Merlin growled lowly at the Wealthian marine.
+She paid no mind to the wayward glances from military personnel; she knew she stuck out amongst their lot, colored in uniforms of black, gray and white.
-"Do you?" The Insurrectionist retorted.
+No one stopped the female Spartan as she exited the medical sector and weaved between interconnecting traffic through the expansive supply-transit passage that doubled as an observation deck for the medical-side vehicle hangar.
-That was the moment when the rumbling started again, this time exponentially more violent and just as surprising and sudden.
+Marine and Army units were performing stretches and prepping for some ship-wide PT run along soft-surface tracks that raced through the entire supercarrier. Mechanics and pilots performed diagnostic drills and maintenance on vehicles and aircraft.
-The Wealthian marine yanked down on the trigger in the sudden quake and the smart-bullets exited the SAS-10's barrel at lightning speed. Merlin instinctively pulled the trigger on his submachine gun in response and watched the air pop quietly as subsonic rounds raced out of his weapon's suppressor.
+The majority of the hangar space was dedicated to transportation aircraft: D79 and D77-type Pelicans, D96 Albatross, and D81 Condors. None of the aircraft moved or hovered, it seemed the no-fly order for all UNSC vehicles was still in effect, the UNSC was on the run and so was the UNSC ''Infinity''. Thus, few vehicles were active and current deployments slowed to a trickle.
-Three rounds to man's chest and a fourth caught him in the neck. He collapsed to the ground choking on his own blood squirting from the opened cavity.
+"Make way, coming through!"
-Merlin didn't register bullets ripping through his shields and shredding his armor, the smart-bullets exploded harmlessly against something in front of him. His vibrant-blue hard-light shield, a weird but most appreciated surprise. He didn't believe he could beat the bullet but apparently, he did.
+Andra shoulder-checked behind her where the yelling voice originated. A group of Marines and SPARTAN-IVs in their duty uniforms pushed their way through the hallway traffic, paying little mind to those they shoved past.
-Andra's battle rifle roared to life, spraying wide but accurate burst fire at the other marines in her purview. The two marines armed with pistols took the armor-piercing rounds to their stomachs and collapsed on the spot as their guts exploded out and their body armor cracked under the assault of a BR85.
+Andra felt herself pushed aside lightly as the cluster of infantry cut a path through the slower-moving clumps of medical specialists and patrolling military personnel.
-The drones took care of the last individual, the one armed with a grenade, shredding his body with precise automatic fire from multiple angles. The room was clear of immediate hostiles; however, the drones were incapable of stopping the enemy's grenade. It rolled out of the dead marine's hand revealing its pressure switch already set and primed.
+"Sorry kid, excuse us!" One Marine shouted at Andra as he zoomed by.
-"Fuck!" was all Merlin managed before the grenade went off and threw shrapnel across the room. The hard-light shield in front of Merlin absorbed the environmental bodies metallic dust that blew through the chamber, however, the concussive energy hit the shield like a wrecking ball. Under the overpressure wave, it faded to a pale-red color.
+A Navy corpsman called to the group as they passed, "What's the rush?"
-Scientists who were scrambling behind the Spartans and marines to get out of the crossfire were suddenly hit with the small metal bits ripping gashes and punching holes in their bodies. Merlin watched two unfortunate scientists too slow to get away take shrapnel to their chests. They hit the ground and did not move again.
+"The Master Chief and someone from Spartan Blue Team is in the food court!"
-Andra's shields flickered gold then promptly collapsed. Her tech suit was instantly slashed open by shrapnel. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she keeled over in pain, kneeling to cover her exposed, bleeding stomach and shoulders. Merlin caught a glimpse of a small metal-ball bearing lodged in her helmet visor.
+"Oh shit, I'm coming too!"
-"Andra!"
+A few people stopped in their meandering and moved to join the group as they rushed by.
-This all happened as the rumbling continued but Merlin lost all focus on the situation as Andra's safety became his top priority. His hard-light shield disintegrated with a wave of his hand as he ran over to care for his friend.
+Andra watched them go, "The Master Chief, huh?"
-Sliding next to her in a kneeling position, Merlin wrapped his body around hers and mentally-willed the MQ-96 support drones to form a short, tight perimeter around the duo. He planted his helmet against Andra's and brought the girl close as the sounds of painful groaning echoed from her audio feed.
+"Why not go with them?"
-"Hey. Hey. Andra. Breath. Tell me what's hurting."
+Andra didn't glance at the speaker, though she assumed they were addressing her. "I got a place to be."
-She sucked in a painful breath of air before answering, "Every-everywhere. I can feel some metallic bits in my arms... My right shoulder's seal has been ripped open. I can't feel my stomach. I can still move though."
+"Maybe you should come with me then."
-"Alright... Shit, this isn't my area of expertise. Let's run diagnostics, you okay to do it on your own?"
+The hooded girl spun around, making eye contact with Lieutenant Commander Derek Frendsen with a booklet of papers cradled in one arm.
-"Yea-yeah." Andra stuttered, taking in another painful breath of air.
+"Su-Sir!" Andra stammered out, snapping to attention with fists at her sides and her feet forming a rigid right angle. Her face turned white as the blood left her cheeks.
-"I'll call it in."
+"Hey there Andra. How are you feeling?" The Lieutenant Commander asked through a soft smile and tired, dark eyes. He ignored the further weird looks he and his Spartan subordinate were receiving from the other military personnel passing by them, much to Andra's unspoken appreciation – he didn't make it weird.
-Merlin stood straight up and snapped his head in every possible direction to get a better mental picture and understanding of the Command Information Center's layout. There were rows of unoccupied computer terminals and an open walking space at the center of the chamber. A large holographic display mounted high and on the back wall continued to flicker as the asteroid quake raged on. The Wealthian scientists, many of them injured or stunned were limping or crawling in all directions. They sputtered and gasps phrases to each other in Russian as they attempted to move across the room toward any viable exits. They passed sideway glances back at Merlin who stood over Andra in a protective posture.
+"I'm good…yeah, I'm good." Andra shuffled her feet meekly but kept her parade stance, uncertain of how to behave herself around her direct superior officer. Frendsen could be amicable but he toed a careful line that Andra struggled with anticipating.
-Merlin leveled his M7S around the room and many of the scientists froze in place like deer in headlights. Some closer to the room's exits burst into full-on sprints and disappeared out into the corridors, motivated by their fear of getting shot. Merlin pulled down on the trigger and shot the walls closest to the larger entryways trapping the scientists too slow to escape in the CIC with him.
+Frendsen paused at the uncertainty in her voice and tilted his head. He took his time, glancing around at the other military personnel around him before looking back at his subordinate. "Come on; let's get up to S-Deck. We can talk about things on the way."
-It was silent once again except for the groaning of titanium being twisted and the repetitive, labored breathing of Andra metaphorically licking her wounds over their radio network. Merlin attempted to breath and compose himself as he was still high off the rage of combat and the fear for his friend's well-being.
+Andra glanced up at the officer and nodded silently, taking a step toward him, however, she slowed upon looking back over the vehicle hangar and the darkness of deep space beyond the shielded hangar doors. That was where Merlin was, maybe… She felt lost.
-He yelled, shakily, across the CIC to all the Wealthian scientists. "Who here speaks English!?"
+"Hey, Andra?" Frendsen gestured to her with an open palm, "We got a meeting in a few."
-The rebel scientists looked at one another, most in confusion. It was hard to tell who registered what Merlin asked but after a few moments, enough eyes snapped to one individual. As if a product of peer pressure, the said man stood up and stepped forward, somehow shaking even more than the rhythmic, metallic beat beneath their feet.
+"Yeah, I'm coming." She finally said after taking in the dark expanse. She turned to follow the man, walking side by side with Frendsen and felt mildly disappointed after performing a quick comparison between him and herself. She was shorter than Frendsen by a couple of inches at most; however, she received augmentations and genetic accelerants as a toddler and still stood under him. She didn't look like an intimidating Spartan, more like a daughter Frendsen could dote upon.
-"I-I do."
+The duo marched until they reached a large cargo elevator and stepped in alongside forty-something more people and dozens of boxes and machinery traveling throughout the UNSC ''Infinity's'' many decks.
-The Wealthian scientist was an older man in his fifties or sixties with a full head of hair colored black with a hint of aging gray. He wore a black-brown vacuum suit like the other scientists in the room and featured pale-pink skin, a quality of being out of starlight for too long, and an untrimmed beard.
+"Going up to S-Deck," Frendsen called to an elevator operator off to the side.
-"Here. Now." Merlin pointed at the man with his free hand and then pointed at a spot in front of him.
+"Priority?" The elevator operator called, recognizing the rank and organization Frendsen represented.
-The scientist complied, slowly, still fearful for his life. Merlin considered the situation and felt his stomach roll. Andra was hurting because of his mishap and if he didn't hurry, her condition might get worse. Right now, to Merlin, the life of every single Wealthian on this station was worth the equivalency to dirt compared to Andra. He was ready to gun them down if they attempted to run.
+"Priority." The Lieutenant Commander confirmed. The cargo elevator zoomed upward after that.
-"Tell your friends to stay put, or I'll do far worse to you all than what has already taken place." Merlin yanked a fragmentation grenade from his waist and raised it to the scientist's face to make his intentions clear. He then pointed at the six dead bodies sprawled out across the chamber.
+It was another minute before Andra and Frendsen stepped into the halls of the Spartan Operations deck, better known as 'S-Deck' and sometimes 'Spartan Town'. Andra preferred neither. She and Frendsen didn't talk much either.
-The scientist was wide-eyed in fear. He stuttered or muttered something under his breath in Russian. Maybe a prayer.
+Before stepping into view of the door-operating cameras guarding the conference room beyond, Frendsen directed his youthful subordinate to the side.
-"Tell them!" Merlin growled louder, his patient had long since run thin.
+"Do you want to talk about what happened the day before?" The naval officer reiterated.
-The Wealthian scientist went rigid and yelled Merlin's threat in Russian though Merlin understood it as mere gibberish due to being completely alien to the concept of Colonial Russian. It seemed to do the trick, the scientists all huddled, crouching against the walls in fear.
+"Out here or in there?"
-"Name. Now." Merlin ordered the scientist standing in front of him. He leveled his M7S at the man's abdomen to ensure his compliance.
+"Both." Frendsen clarified sternly, his eyes narrowed in concentration with rare, personal concern.
-"Branko Sotiris."
+"In there. I'd rather let the tears fly after I've been battered by the interrogators." Andra joked humorlessly at her own expense.
-Andra chimed in at that moment through her labored breathing. "Sotiris was one of the keywords that we data-mined on the ''Caviar'', he's the head of one of the Wealthian Coalition's R&D weapons divisions."
+"I'm not going to order you to; you have a choice."
-"How convenient," Merlin grumbled both to Andra and Doctor Sotiris.
+"I'll do it," Andra responded firmly. She came this far, might as well knock it out.
-He reached out and grabbed the doctor by the collar of his shirt and yanked him close. "I want full, unrestricted access to your facility right now. That, in exchange for you and your coworkers' lives."
+"They just need you to clarify over a few things; anything maybe missed in Lieutenant Commander Stenbeck's report and not accounted for from your helmet recorder."
-"Deal," Doctor Sotiris quickly said without a second thought. His lips quivered but his English came out clear and true; his thick Wealthian accent seemed to disappear as he spoke. "The main terminal is the desk on the far left, closest to the room's center. You'll need my encrypted passkey..."
+"Understood," Andra stated emotionlessly, glaring into Frendsen's eyes with panicked determination.
-"No. I won't." Merlin responded sternly but spun the scientist around and pushed him toward the said computer terminal with his M7S digging into the scientist's back.
+"Alright. Then let's do it." The Lieutenant Commander stepped forward first and the sliding doors parted at his advance. Andra followed, only a footfall behind.
-Making sure the man would not attempt anything rash, Merlin quickly yanked a data-chip plugged into the rear of his helmet and brought it up to his visor to give it a glance. There was a momentary sense of physical loss that echoed from inside Merlin's neural implant, but he ignored it.
+The meeting that followed involved a lot of talking about logistics and circumstances that Andra chose to let fly in one ear and out the other. It didn't really pertain to her at the moment; instead, she spent the time pseudo-meditating, attempting to keep herself from collapsing into a teary-eyed mess.
-The chip was silver in color and small. It included a crystalline-circle-interior colored a deep holographic-transparent blue. Merlin wasn't particularly sure what the device was supposed to be or what it was supposed to do but his gut assumed it was one of those deep-learning infiltration expert systems he learned about during his previous dabbles into cyber-intrusion and cybersecurity. It was supposed to be Andra and Merlin's electronic trump card, a device that could break any encryption and perform any basic computer task.
+Amongst the round table of gray-uniformed naval officers from the Office of Naval Intelligence, there were faces Andra recognized.
-He lowered the device from his face level and sought out a general-access port. It took only a moment to find the appropriate entry plug and jacked the little data-chip in. It made a subtle clicking noise, promising it was secured in the system. A computer browser window flashed momentarily to life on Merlin's HUD, telling him the device was doing its job.
+Lieutenant Commander Derek Frendsen. Better known as VIOLET-III Actual, commander of a renowned pair of SPARTAN-III Gamma Company Headhunter units – the same ones that previously mentored Andra and her own unit. Andra's direct superior as of late and an often-distant though studious commander with a rather perplexing fondness for paper documents and media.
-"What was that device?" Doctor Sotiris asked Merlin out of curiosity.
+Lieutenant Commander Vilda Stenbeck. Andra's temporary mission handler during the RUNIT DOME operation. A two-sided coin; sometimes she was friendly and soft-spoken and other times she was aggressive and blatantly manipulative, at least according to Frendsen. Apparently, she ran a tight ship regarding her own SPARTAN-III Ferret unit, whoever they were.
-"Shut up." was Merlin's intelligent response.
+Lieutenant Commander Ryder Kedar. A tallish SPARTAN-IV operator that somehow looked better in a suit than armor. Andra didn't personally know much about him but she heard he was something of a child prodigy before joining the Armed Forces. He towered over Andra and in some ways, beyond his pretty boy-physique, intimidated her with that smug tilt of his lips. He looked like he could back up his spy-craft bullshit at the very least.
-The radio crackled to life as the chip began slaving controls to its own operations. As if thinking exactly like Merlin, it opened a channel between Merlin's suit and the ''Black Caviar'' at a speed so fast that Merlin barely noticed another browser window flicker on his screen to initiate the connection.
+Apparently, there were many ONI-employed Lieutenant Commanders aboard the UNSC ''Infinity'' today.
-Static reigned supreme for a few moments and then, with a snappy ''pop'', the voice of the Spartans' mission handler came into focus. "Spartans, we got your feed, can you hear me?"
+After a while of deliberation, someone finally called for her presence. "D-Oh-Fifty-Four?"
-"Yeah. You're coming in crystal-clear. We got a situation."
+She didn't respond at first, the Spartan girl was still languishing in her own world of hurt. It took another request, "Andra?" and a light tap on the shoulder to pull her from the stupor.
-"The voice, you mean?"
+"Hu-huh?"
-"No!? What, no," Merlin shook his head at that, recognizing that the crew of the ''Black Caviar'' were not totally informed on the play-by-play circumstances going on aboard the Wealthian asteroid base. "I've seized control of the space station. I'm ready to continue investigations over here but Andra's hurt. I need the ''Caviar'' to have medical ready on standby."
+"Andra, would you mind speaking on the events leading up to RUNIT DOME's failure?" Ryder Kedar called from across the table while Stenbeck's hand softly grasped Andra's shoulder based on the previous tap.
-"What's her condition?"
+"Uh-yes, of course," Andra briskly stated, blinking a bit to compose herself and lightly pushed Stenbeck's hand from her shoulder. "I can talk about it."
-"Stable, it seems, for now. I'll let her explain?" Merlin stated, looking over his shoulder at Andra.
+"Proceed from wherever you feel is relevant," Kedar ordered with a seemingly encouraging tone.
-She seemed to get the message and started speaking between breaths. "We got caught in a standoff, took a glancing hit from a frag grenade. My suit is reporting that my vitals are elevated but stable, but I've got a concerning amount of internal bleeding. I recommend I return to the ship."
+On Kedar's right side, Frendsen gave Andra a subtle nod before deep-diving back into the pile of papers strewn out in front of him whereas the other ONI officers had nothing or the occasional holographic tablet. At the center of the conference table, Roland stood attentively but as his traditional water bottle-sized hologram, the one Andra favored.
-"Understood, Spartan. We've already alerted medical to receive you, we're also moving the ''Caviar'' out of..."
+Everyone looked at Andra expectantly but with degrees of encouragement, it seemed they were at least aware that this would be hard on her.
-Merlin tuned out the ONI officer and turned to Doctor Sotiris and addressed him sternly. "Tell your people to tend to their wounded in here. I'm going to fire up a stand down order for the rest of your station, everyone is to stay put where they are. As for you, you're going to tell me what your people were doing out here."
+Sensing a tongue twister coming on, Andra thought back to what Merlin used to say about giving mission reports; he used to do them for their Ferret Unit a lot. "It's always easier to start from the beginning, let the officer direct you where to go after that."
-"What-what about the asteroid-quake?"
+"Well, we were put aboard the UNSC ''Black Caviar'' at the beginning of the month, transitioning from here to the Corvette. After that, we made a stop at Earth to pick up Lieutenant Commander Stenbeck. Then we parked ourselves in the orbital proximity of…"
-"What even is it? What is going on?" Merlin asked, finally turning to focus on the purpose of their mission here in the Wealthian Coalition's part of the galaxy.
+Andra's words slipped into silence based on the frowns Kedar and Stenbeck were giving her.
-The Wealthian scientist was slow to respond, first calling to his subordinates to deal with their wounded or whatever he was telling them in Russian. Based on the docile behavior of Merlin's pseudo-hostages, it seemed they were complying, or the Doctor was being true to his word.
+"Tell us about your phase of the operation, anything relevant. We don't need to hear about anything beyond that." Kedar expanded as he placed an impatient arm atop the table. Hurry up, Andra got the message.
-"How much do you know about this base?" asked Doctor Sotiris, bringing his voice to a mere whisper.
+Therefore, Andra spoke on that. Only for Kedar to stop her repeatedly to hurry up her report. It was infuriating but at least he was cutting through it quickly and making Andra's job easier, sort of. She wasn't crying at the very least.
-"How much are you willing to reveal?" Merlin responded; he found the scientist's sudden compliance disarming, but also confusing.
+"Merlin protected me when the Wealthian fireteam pinned us in the enemy's combat information center. Between the gravity waves and the collapsing structures of Test Station ''Tsiolkovsky'', I think that's what they called it; there was little maneuvering room and even after, he managed to stop the gunfire with a hard light shield…"
-"I'll comply with you...you already made it fairly clear what will happen if I don't, and I'd rather not find out what ONI would do to me if I did not..." He gestured to Merlin's M7S submachine gun still pointed at him as an afterthought.
+"And the injury?"
-"ONI has that reputation," Merlin shrugged in agreement. "Alright. Spill."
+"Frag grenade, one of the few we failed to stop before cooking off. It made it past the hard light and detonated between us... I-I jumped on it. Those gravity waves made it worse."
-"This facility is known to the Coalition as ''Su4zA-11'', but how to express that in English would take too long to explain. We call it ''Tsiolkovsky'', after one of my predecessors. Wealthian astronomical surveys picked up some rather strange gravitational readings and radiation fluctuations that spanned a long period of time on a predictable basis."
+A quiet carried over the room as the audience processed the information.
-"You found a pattern." Merlin summarized.
+"What then? What happened to Merlin?" Kedar asked, reaching the point that chilled her blood and bones.
-"In a way," The doctor shrugged. "After following the 'pattern', we realized it was residual amounts of Hawking and Čerenkov radiation, common characteristics of Slipspace ruptures. While not enough to be of recent or large-scale tears, they were intriguing enough to investigate. We eventually found the origin: this asteroid, and along with it, a sizable artifact buried in its protective underbelly, the portion of the rock which we constructed ''Tsiolkovsky''."
+"We managed to eliminate the rest of the fireteam but at the cost of several of the Wealthian researchers. Merlin carried on with the mission; at least, I think he did. He plugged our AI into an available mainframe and took it out once he figured…whatever. He carried me to an escape pod and sent me on my way."
-"So, what is it then?" Merlin asked, now confused.
+Andra paused to think over the things that followed.
-"A good question, we're not sure ourselves, however, we have a couple working ideas regarding the device, which is, mind you, not of Forerunner origin. You're aware of them, correct?"
+"I think he was going after the lead researcher; I did see something though before he set off the escape pod."
-"Fairly familiar. Being a Spartan has its mission perks."
+"What was it?" Kedar asked.
-"Right, well, this is the work of another civilization of some sort. We think the device is some sort of interstellar communication suite, not unlike the more expensive Slipspace communications buoy launchers that were developed by Inner Colonial colleges back before the Human-Covenant War." The doctor now seemed giddy to speak about his work, maybe it was a scientist thing. Now that Merlin had got him warmed up to talking, the man was waving his arms about in a lecturer's sort-of-manner, kind of like a professor proud of his research.
+"Giant metalhead, pretty angular in shape. Kind of looked Forerunner in design? Had a pair of glowing eyes, and many teeth. Tore the station to shreds."
-"So, you've found an alien surveillance probe or transmitter in the side of an asteroid and have been studying it for...how long?" Merlin asked, looking for clarification but the puzzle pieces were starting to come together.
+Lieutenant Commander Stenbeck turned to the other wall, gesturing for Roland to perform his digital magic. With a flicker of his holographic avatar, Roland pushed an image onto the projector at the far side of the room.
-"More than twenty years, we discovered it at the height of the Human-Covenant War," Doctor Sotiris explained, confirming what Merlin guessed with a nod of his head. "But toward the end of the conflict when the Covenant started to breach the Inner Colonies, we knew Wealth was at risk, so we started working on..."
+"You can confirm this is what you saw?" The female ONI officer asked.
-"...a superweapon," Merlin finished. "What is it? Where is it?"
+Andra's blood chilled even further and the blood escaped her face once again. Pure nightmare fuel. "Yes, yes it is."
-The doctor paused to consider answering Merlin regarding the change of subject. He closed one eye, squinting as if deep in thought then began to shake his head. Merlin prodded the air in front of the man with his submachine gun to remind him what kind of working relationship the two had.
+The image was grainy but Andra immediately recognized it because they took it directly from her helmet camera footage. Shiny, metallic, glowing a fluorescent blue. An inhumane but menacing face. The promise of Death.
-The scientist raised his hands up to his head height, still aware of the situation they were in. The ground was still shaking around them, but it seemed mundane now, barely a noticeable occurrence. "Alright! Alright! We were developing a ship-grade weapon that incorporated some alien technologies that we recovered along with the artifact. We don't fully understand it ourselves, we simply figured out how to apply it."
+Stenbeck whispered, "That's our new enemy. That's a Guardian."
-"One-of-a-kind technology demonstrator?"
+<center>[[Halo:_Lonely_Frontier#Halo:_Lonely_Frontier|''Return to Top'']]</center>
-"Yeah, pretty much."
+==='''Chapter Four: Critical Failure'''===
-"And where is it now?" Merlin asked, repeating his previous question.
+:<big><u>'''Merlin'''</u></big>
+:'''0906 Hours, 28 October 2558'''
+:'''Test Station ''Tsiolkovsky'''''
+:'''Wealthian Territory, Joint-Occupation Zone'''
+When he yanked Andra's Smart AI from the heavily damaged server equipment parked at the center of the ''Tsiolkovsky's'' combat intelligence center, Merlin was barely conscious. His eyes saw nothing. His body and mind worked on autopilot, running the chip between shaky fingers, guiding it sloppily to the back of his helmet.
+Andra's grenade injury was grievous and on his mind. She tackled a frag for his sake, got hurt for his mistake. Her safety depended heavily on setting RUNIT DOME's second phase into motion.
-Doctor Sotiris glanced up as if trying to remember something. "It's been five-six years? They moved advanced weapons development off-site a while ago. I haven't been a part of that project since, we're barely a skeleton crew here — all we do now is continue our investigations into the artifact's original purpose. But that brings us to today, those quakes were predictable and sporadic in the past...but now they've been going every few minutes. Coming and going. We don't know why."
+The ongoing burn in every nerve was blinding, almost overwhelming; the only thing he could think on was his best friend's face and the acquisition of the AI storage chip. The steel-colored chip with its translucent-transparent blue center clacked against the base of his helmet as he fiddle-guided it toward the insertion slip where it clicked into place.
-"Merlin!" Andra shouted from where she was kneeling, drawing said Spartan's attention. Andra pointed toward the holographic display at the center of the back wall where the flickering screen had transformed into a grainy display from an exterior space station camera.
+Merlin heard a sigh of relief though he was uncertain if it was his or someone else's. Focusing in on the new neural sensation, his initial thought regarded the experience was, ''different''. It was chilling, like a face full of ice-cold water but inside his skull; he shook his head as the color and sound of things around him sharpened but his vision remained blurred.
-A metal body cut through the scattered asteroid field like a knife through butter, its energy shields glowing a dull blue as rocks bounced against its most-exterior defense. Light from the distant star sporadically danced across the hull of the vessel as it came in close to the ''Tsiolkovsky''-based asteroid. It was a human starship, only a few hundred meters in length and featured a blocky, though somewhat rounded frame with large sections jutting out and a scanning tower. Rampart CIWS guns protruded from its sides and Archer missile racks were visible on its walls. Its main thrusters were off; however, its maneuvering rockets burned a hot blue, slowly guiding the ship close. In the dim light of the space station's proximity flood-lamps, the ship's name was visible. UNSC ''Black Caviar''.
+From a kneeling position next to the giant mainframe computer, Merlin rose on shaky legs. Spurned on by the sensory boost, he pushed forward to find Andra in the chaos of a collapsing space station.
-"Calvary has arrived," Merlin whispered to himself, glad to see the friendly vessel once again. He sighed to himself.
+"''You can do it. Reach her.''"
-It was a breath released too soon.
+He squinted through his blurry eyes, defined by colors like gray, white, and black, to no avail. Andra's armor color was essentially that, how was he supposed to find her in this?
-As if summoned by the approach of the UNSC corvette, the most aggressive asteroid-quake Merlin had felt this entire day crackled under his feet. It was violent, sudden, and pronounced.
+"''Breathe Merlin.''"
-Ceiling lighting panels flickered, and computer terminals shook to the point their screens cracked from the shaking. Many of the people in the CIC were thrown to the ground, some even hitting their heads on the metal floor and going unconscious.
+The Spartan breathed; it didn't clear his vision, but it increased his resolve and lessened his panic. He didn't really know who was talking in that faint whisper but it relaxed him. It warmed him, propelling him forward.
-Merlin fell to his knees from the aggressive shaking. Looking up at the holographic display in surprise, Merlin noticed how the camera display had suddenly switched to a view of something near or below the asteroid station.
+A blue indicator light flashed and then flickered into a fuzzy circle off in the distance on his armor visor. A waypoint, Merlin realized, and he pushed on towards it.
-Massive cracks were forming in the surface of the asteroid as if it was moments from splitting apart. The fissures were massive, so large in fact, that Merlin imagined he could fit a Warthog in one of them.
+His footing was sluggish, each step proving an uncertain and precarious operation, passing one leg to the next. He couldn't see the ground and the pain of gravitational distortion, according, vaguely to his bodily organs and nerves, proved a hefty challenge to take on.
-Merlin felt terror, but it wasn't a realistic fear of the space station shattering to pieces. It was an existential fear, one of something he could not comprehend and one that shook him to his core.
+"''Keep going, you're almost there.''"
-Giant metal wings, divided by sizable gaps but made rigid through unknown means, erupted from the fissures, like a butterfly taking its first steps outside its cocoon after metamorphosis.
+He passed through pockets of finely-powdered glass, thrashed by an asteroid-quake, from destroyed terminal screens. The dust clicked and rattled against his armor, vibrating erratically with the distorted gravitational forces. Between blindness and the pain, Merlin focused only on the blue light ahead.
-What was most terrifying were the giant, bright-blue eyes glowing in the darkness below, staring up at the camera, and right into Merlin's soul.
+A mantra in that encouraging, possibly feminine voice, echoed in his mind, one from his training days as a Spartan trainee. "''Slow is steady. Steady is fast. Slow and steady win the race.''"
-==='''<big><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">Chapter 1.5: Unknowable Forces</span></big>'''===
-{{Time Stamp|Non-Standardized Time Stamp // October 29th, 2558|Test Station ''Tsiolkovsky'', Joint-Occupation Zone}}
-<!--[3879 words]-->
-The asteroid, the space station, and Merlin’s body all vibrated violently as one. Merlin felt his mind turning to mush, unfocused, under the strain of unknown gravitational forces.
+One foot in front of the other and vice versa. Merlin practically tripped over Andra upon reaching his single-minded destination.
-Merlin could tell it was a gravitational distortion, not because he’d ever been in a situation where the state of gravity was in fluctuation, but his sensory organs were now telling him as such. The blood shifting around in his body, a dizzy spell befell his brain and left him unable to rise from his bent knees. His eyes darted around behind closed eyes, completely unfocused.
+"Ugh…" Andra groaned in pain as Merlin toppled over her and they collapsed into a body-pile of armor and tangled limbs.
-Merlin was a mess but even behind closed pupils, he could still see those massive, glowing-blue eyes staring back at him through the camera and holographic television screen. Merlin attempted to open his eyes but found his vision blurred and uncontrollable. He blinked rapidly but found the sensation alien when mixed with the asteroid-quake. He gasped for air and sniffled rapidly trying to gain some sense of composure.
+"An-Andra?" Merlin asked uncertainty while collecting himself.
-Whatever he was doing, thinking at that moment was incoherent, reflexive, unfocused – Merlin was not in control in that single moment. However, he couldn’t let himself be stuck there because a voice was whispering in his ear. It was quiet, barely audible, but somehow Merlin heard it. It sounded like Andra’s voice, but it didn’t come with the typical crackle of radio communications.
+Her response was a yellow-alert-flash on his team status roster. She was alive, at the very least.
-“''Merlin. Stand up.''”
+Merlin pulled himself up from Andra's chest plate, grabbing her shoulder before directing, "Alright, we're going to try a fireman's carry. Can you do that for me?"
-What was that voice? Merlin’s thoughts remained jumbled, but his primal sense of confusion and the voice came through clearly.
+"Y-yeah," Andra stammered through gritted teeth. She shuffled her trembling shoulders in acknowledgment.
-“''Merlin. Stand up. You can do it.''”
+She laid limp in his arms while he scrambled for a method for lifting her painlessly onto his back. Another pained groan escaped her lips but Merlin could see her blurry legs now, dancing within a clutched arm-grip, wrapping around him. She lacked precise muscle control but she was functioning nonetheless.
-Merlin twitched the left ball of his foot, experimenting with his footing and flexing against the bone-rattling vibrations cutting through his being. The metal beneath his boot was like standing on gelatin, and yet, he moved. Merlin pushed his left foot up, lifted it into the air and landed on his heel, pushing his entire leg forward putting him in a kneeling position.
+"Don't bite down; I don't want you losing teeth."
-He shut his eyes and focused on simply moving his body. He felt with his right foot shuffling it against the ground, dragging it forward centimeter by centimeter across the ground. He locked his right knee and at a ninety-degree-angle, he pushed down with all his weight.
+She hummed in agitation at the comment.
-Merlin rose, on shaky legs.
+"What now…?" Merlin asked, more to himself than Andra. The panicky sensation was returning, driven by the lack of direction and near-blindness.
-“''Breath Merlin.''”
+Apparently, Andra and maybe her AI had a response to his self-inquiry. Another blue, fuzzy circle appeared in the distance, what looked to be the CIC's far wall, as Andra called out, "Far wall…"
-Merlin breathed. Then, he opened his eyes.
+"What's…there?" Merlin wheezed out, squelching his own muscles against the elements working against him. Gravity, Andra's weight, sensory deprivation, nerve spasm, muscle pain. He felt like the mythical Titan god, Atlas, given the punishment to hold Heaven's weight upon his shoulders.
-He still couldn’t focus, he could see blurred colors of grays and whites and blacks. He breathed again, it didn’t help clear his vision, but it increased his resolve.
+The voice came again, reminding him of his old unit motto. Team Boson. "''If I cannot bend the will of Heaven, I will move Hell.''"
-Merlin performed one-step, and then another. He was slow, methodical. His legs felt heavy, but not with coagulating blood, but weakened muscles. So little control but he pushed through.
+It was right. He huffed repeatedly and began his trek forward to whatever it was. Without knowing, what Andra or her Smart AI saw, he was in the dark. However, he had faith in Andra to guide them home. She was always the sharper-eyed one anyway.
-A blue indicator light flashed and then flickered into a circle off in the distance on Merlin’s MJOLNIR visor. A waypoint, Merlin realized, and he pushed forward, toward it.
+That unit motto stuck with him though, settling in his mind as he wobbled his way in the gray-scaled psychedelic trip around him. It used to motivate him in the training days; it did the same today. The original meaning was lost on him; however, the claim of not being able to do one impossible thing meant he might as well try another.
-Merlin stepped through the finely powdered glass, thrashed by the asteroid-quake and originating from destroyed terminal screens. He slid forward on shaky feet several meters in dazed blindness, using only the blue light as his guide.
+Keep fighting. That's what it meant at this moment. Therefore, he did. He kept fighting.
-He smacked himself into the terminal desk at his waist-height. The impact vibrated his legs even further causing him to almost collapse once again. However, Merlin stood his ground and caught himself on sweating, uneasy palms.
+Andra's sporadic rasping gave way for a coherent phrase, "Escape pods."
-"''That's it, Merlin. Just yank the chip. You can do it.''"
+Merlin approached closer, and eventually, his swimming vision parted for boxy-looking structures protruding from the far wall at an angle. A few steps closer, and he could see their forms and the beginnings of intricate details like written warnings in Russian and individual buttons and levers.
-The voice was soothing and reassuring. It was familiar, almost like Andra's. And unlike the foreboding, ominous voice from before, this voice was encouraging. Hopeful. Merlin felt trust in it.
+Overhead, dull-red warning lights danced in rotary patterns against the titanium walls. Sirens whined just out earshot. A drawling female voice spoke in the quirky Colonial Russian pseudo-dialect, sounding in mild distress. Merlin didn't need to decipher the complex language to recognize the clear and present danger. He was in the muck of it.
-He reached out, feeling tactilely through his armored glove, for the familiar protrusion of an inserted data-chip plugged into what must have been the primary console. He skimmed it once, his hand delicate to avoid pushing too hard on any surface. He had to be careful, any wrong push and he might destroy some delicate equipment in this quaking mess. Merlin couldn't trust his own body at the moment.
+The ten longest seconds of Merlin's life ended. His nervous system heaved hotly upon planting a hand against the wall as if he touched a magical power source. The weight of the world fell away and he gasped sweet, sweet air as it raced back into his lungs.
-He found a silvery stick protruding between his right hand's right and pinky finger and Merlin knew he found what he was looking for. The familiar, crystalline-transparent circle was a familiar presence in Merlin's hand.
+He collapsed onto one knee in relief, nearly dropping Andra on the way down. Merlin matched her rapid, graceful gasps for oxygen as they breathed in harmony, gleefully enjoying the respite. The unimaginable pain they both suffered had lulled. They were free; the pain had been so bad, any injury they previously incurred, retreated into a dull throb.
-He yanked it, delicately, and grasped the device in his palm. He guided it through the air, gently, to the back of his helmet. It was slow and tedious work, but it's all Merlin thought about and focused on. He felt the data-chip slip against the back of his hand, flipped his palm around and gingerly pushed the chip into place.
+Merlin kept his grasp on Andra, but shimmied her down his back, allowing her to settle against a pod apparatus for support. He hugged her cautiously, a part of him still uncertain if the violent distortions were over.
-Merlin heard of a sigh of relief though it was uncertain if it was his breath or someone else's. He felt a sense of calm wash over him. His tension disappeared and a buzz of concentration took hold but mixed in was a quenched fear. It wasn't gone but it was bottled down, anchored to the back of Merlin's mind.
+"Merlin…" Andra whispered breathlessly, her voice turning impossibly quiet. "The scientists…"
-He pushed forward, with new resolve. Merlin thought back to Spartan training and the sometimes-simplistic methodologies they taught. Merlin knew they worked, but his experience to become a graduate of SPARTAN-III Delta Company were both memories scorned, and memories cherished. Merlin called back to those training methodologies, remembering their tempo and focused in on that.
+He swiveled his helmet at her comment, maybe a little too fast as he almost toppled over. Even in her injured state, Andra steadied him by clasping his shoulder. Beyond the two disorientated Spartans rested a chaotic field of destruction, transformed by the will of a most primal force.
-The words echoed in his mind. "''Slow is steady. Steady is fast. Slow and steady win the race.''"
+Merlin blinked rapidly, allowing his stressed capillaries to readjust to the room before him. Crushed terminal stations. Glass from computer screens warped into vapor-like dust that hugged the air as if a sparkling fog. Support and floor structures dented in vigorous ways more akin to crumpled paper than metal. Bodies were strewn across the floor with their clothing and surroundings splattered in deep reds and pinks.
-One step at a time. Find Andra.
+Some of the blood-and-gut-paste left trails behind bodies along the floor, evidence that under the immense pressure, some of the people still willed themselves to survive, if only for a little longer.
-Merlin leaned against the terminal desk and dragged his feet forward, one at a time and one behind the other. He fired off a location-query ping and waited as he edged closer to the end of the table.
+"They're all dead," Merlin whispered. "Dead or dying."
-It took two seconds.
+Had it not been for their armor, maybe Merlin and Andra would have been bloody pulps too. Merlin shivered at the thought.
-A blue indicator light flashed on Merlin's blurry visor, indicated a new waypoint. There she was.
+"What do you think happened?" Andra looked to Merlin's helmeted face for an answer.
-"An-Andra?" Merlin called out, experimenting softly, trying to prevent himself from biting his tongue.
+A small indicator tab slid onto Merlin's heads-up display with an innocent, little measurement. 10.61 G.
-A long, protracted groan replied back. Andra's voice.
+Ten Gravities.
-"I'm-I'm coming to you."
+Merlin repeated the number, "Ten Gravities."
-Around Merlin, he saw red-lights blink to life on what appeared to the be CIC's titanium walls. Sirens screamed as the lights flared in place. A voice called out in a feminine-Russian-accent describing something in mild distress. Merlin couldn't bother to process or understand the language, but the message was universal: danger, time to leave.
+"What?"
-Merlin skidded his armored legs against the ground, leaving scratch marks and making low-screeching sounds as he moved. He crossed the room in a couple of seconds, growing both used to and more confident in his ability to cope with the gravitational fluctuations.
+"We were pummeled with Ten G's of force. For… Three minutes? We should be dead…"
-He kneeled down by a sprawled-out white-and-black form that he assumed was Andra and reached down to wrap his arms around her body, feeling for her waist and then her arms. Identifying the distinct titanium texture of MJOLNIR beneath his glove, Merlin pulled her up and to his chest pushing her damaged helmet into the magazine pouches mounted on his breastplate.
+"Our armor protected us," Andra concluded.
-In this situation, Andra looked more like a limp sack of potatoes as Merlin struggled to lift her in a way where she didn't slide out of his shaking arms. Another pained groan escaped her lips, but Merlin could see her blurry legs dancing beneath her waist kicking frantically to find grip on the metal floor for herself. Evidently, she still lacked muscle control.
+Merlin nodded in silence.
-"Alright, we're going to try a fireman's carry. Can you do that for me?"
+While the Spartans collected themselves, they noted quiet tremors echoing beneath their feet. The sirens and speakers had ceased now, probably more broken than off. It was in that brief period that Merlin remembered he was on a mission and he fired off a brief radio burst, hoping his signal would punch through the radio-resistant walls of Test Station Tsiolkovsky.
-"Y-yeah." Andra stammered through what sounded like gritted teeth.
+"''One Big Mama, Myself''. Confirm."
-"Don't bite down, I don't want you losing your teeth."
+Quiet static was Merlin's only radio companion then. A quiet he did not welcome.
-Andra groaned at the comment but Merlin was already swinging to action, focusing simply on the mundane details. He focused on the singular moments as they ticked by slowly, one by one, figuring out what he needed to do for them to survive. He lifted Andra up so that she was now lifted straight in the air and Merlin edged his arms slowly so that her torso was laid comfortably behind his head, on the small of his back and shoulders.
+Everything about this mission went wrong. The continued lack of response from the UNSC ''Black Caviar'' made it no better.
-"Can-can you find your left leg with your left arm?" Merlin managed to ask, breathing rapidly to maintain the action as their titanium forms tapped against one another, making rapid ''tink-tink'' noises.
+"You need to go, Andra," Merlin said, now lifting her up again with some effort. "I'm not getting any messages from or to the ''Caviar'', you're injured – best you get a message out once you're clear of here."
-"Andra's left arm inched out slowly, looking for wherever her left leg was which was squished further and further down as she arched her back to close the distance.
+Merlin tapped the emergency launch-release button next to the nearest escape pod causing the hatch to peel back, revealing a cramped, coffin-like interior.
-"Closer. Closer," Merlin encouraged his friend, "Almost there. You got it."
-Andra secured her left arm and hooked it around the bottom of her left kneecap. She announced to Merlin over the radio, "Got it. What's the plan?"
+Andra shook her head and shuffled in Merlin's arms as he laid her down in the pod, bridal-style.
+"I-I'm still able enough, and what-whatever you got planned next, with all that's happened already, I don't think leaving you alone is the best idea."
-"I don't..." Merlin was about to say but another blue light replaced the last one and pointed to the far wall in front of Merlin. Looking closely, Merlin still could not make out the blurred objects against the facility wall. "The far wall in front of us."
+"You don't even know what my plan is, to begin with," Merlin softly countered, he had yet to remove his hands from beneath her battered armor.
-Andra's acute eyesight, even for Spartans, came in handy at that moment. "Escape pods."
+"But I know you…" Andra continued, gingerly. "You may have been the intelligence-guy back when we were all still together, but none of Boson were pushovers either. If I have no plan, you probably have little more than that, Merlin! Whatever you're planning, it's better I keep—augh!"
-"Right. That sounds like a good idea."
+Merlin's arms wrapped protectively around Andra's abdomen as she keeled over again in pain, ceasing her train of thought. Her rapid-fire words had done her in.
-Merlin could make out blurry forms limping and crawling their way toward the CIC's far wall, the same direction that the Spartans were headed.
+Pushing her gently and fully into the pod's interior, Merlin retreated a step from his best friend. "You're really not in any condition to help Andra, whether your suit has you doped up on meds now or not. We came to secure that information. Let me check the Innies, it will only take a few minutes. Get out of here, tell the Caviar what happened, I'll be out shortly."
-Merlin hastened his awkward marching, recognizing a race for survival when he saw one. It took him all of ten seconds to march over to the escape pods, but they were the longest ten seconds of his life.
+"That's what the AI was for, dumb-dumbass…" Andra retorted between painful coughs.
-And when he touched the wall, Merlin senses exploded exponentially, as if he contacted some kind of magical energy source. He gasped graciously as blood stopped building in his lower-most arteries and his lungs flexed to a more stable shape. He kneeled once again, not out of weakness but in an attempt at recovery. Andra's rapid gasps for air joined Merlin's as they together attempted felt the release of the several gravities previously pressing upon their bodies.
+"Nothing like human intelligence," Merlin replied, glancing to the strewn out expanse of dead and dying scientists.
-Merlin turned around slowly, blinking rapidly as the stressed capillaries in his eyes recovered and his blurred vision began to dissolve into morbid clarity.
+Andra didn't say anything, wrapping herself into a protective ball. Her helmet directed away from Merlin, silent.
-He blinked at the scene in front of him, not sure what to make of it like several other strange phenomena that had already ruined his day. He and Andra were the only ones to have made it to the far wall and the escape pods.
+The male Spartan stood aloof, struggling to formulate a response to placate and reassure his friend.
-Crawling, shuffling scientists that Merlin had witnessed behind his blurred vision were sprawled out, motionless on the metal floor beneath them. Bodies were sprawled out everywhere, not moving. Some of the dead were still leaning against the wall, the same position they had been in when they were being medically treated by their comrades.
+The half-baked thought never left his lips, however, when another tremor rumbled beneath his feet. Merlin glanced toward the trashed space station CIC and watched as powdered glass and metal shrapnel floated off the floor before returning to the ground. The phenomenon came in waves, washing over the debris and the Spartans repeatedly.
-Everyone was dead or dying. The Wealthians all looked dead.
+Each distortion of gravity came like a gut-punch, forcing Merlin an inch back with every surge. Andra tightened in on herself, squirming as purred whimpers echoed off her lips. Merlin growled in agitation but found no respite as each wave came with a rise in severity.
-"What in the hell...?" Merlin asked, trying to comprehend what happened.
+Merlin switched off his standalone mode and fired off a network handshake request with Andra's own cybernetic implant. Her response was instantaneous, opening up her mind to him.
-"Mer-Merlin?" Andra asked from behind her friend, shifting her body weight slightly so she was more comfortable on Merlin's back.
+The neural connection sputtered with jarring excitement as Merlin's agitation collided with rolling tides from Andra's growing panic. Caught off guard at first, he trod water in her fear. He fired off the most assuring sensation he could muster in the time split; Andra responded by rolling over in his direction within the escape pod interior.
-Merlin didn't respond but Andra shuffled herself further until his arms slacked, allowing the female Spartan to slide off his back and to kneel next to him.
+Resolve flared from her end of the connection, a silent thought. ''Go. Do what you need to.''
-"What...happened?" Andra asked, surveying the trashed and destroyed Command Intelligence Center and the many dead bodies littering the wide space.
+"You need to go now," Merlin vocalized, pausing for a breath. He attempted to say more but slammed into the facility wall instead.
-"I think that we were bombarded by an excess number of Gs."
+"Merlin!" Andra shouted in alarm, reaching out in desperation but retracted as the waves reached previous intensities, forcing the two Spartans to double over once more.
-Gravity distortions?"
+The distorted floor ruptured, split by a giant metallic-looking protrusion that rose from the asteroid depths below. The distortions emanating from the object, levitating debris in patterned melodic ways.
-"I think so..." Merlin stated, wide-eyed behind his visor. He had no idea how this happened.
-"Oh my..." Andra whispered looking at something her armor was telling her.
+"Go! Now Andra! Go!" Merlin yelled to her as his vision began to blur again.
+Panic snaked up both ends of the neural network but Andra got the message, finally prioritizing her safety and the mission. She crash-laid back into the pod and with an interior button press, the hatch sealed her in.
-"What?" Merlin glanced over to Andra.
+Merlin watched from his seated position as her pod gave off a ''pop-hiss'' start then rocketed out of its harness, out to dark space beyond.
-"Ten Gravities."
+She was going…gone. Merlin felt, grasped at the last strands of the shared neural net until Andra disappeared beyond reach. What took a second felt like a century and then she wasn't there anymore.
-"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, tilting his helmet.
+He was alone now.
-"We were exposed to a sustained force of ten gravities for a whole three minutes." Andra clarified.
+"''Merlin. Stand up. You need to.''"
-"They were crushed to death..." Merlin whispered, letting the puzzle pieces fall into place.
+The whisper came back with a pinch of urgency. If Merlin didn't know better, the voice almost sounded panicked too.
-"And we would be too without our armor. Or if it had occurred for much longer." Andra added.
+"Yeah, I figured that…" Merlin chuckled darkly to the voice. Even though he agreed with it, and in a joking manner, he didn't budge. He couldn't will himself through the pain.
-Merlin surveyed the room and considered his situation. He considered the limp Wealthian bodies spread across the CIC. He considered Andra's injuries, wondering how severe they were. He considered the mission in its totality and how wrong the events had turned.
+"''Merlin. Please.''"
-Merlin turned back to Andra and registered the slanted, single-occupant escape pod she leaned against to support her abdominal pains. He grimaced at her keeled-over state and how she gripped her waist with her left arm.
+When he did nothing, the voice eventually retreated into silence. The pain was just too raw; he dedicated too much to Andra's escape, he needed another rest.
-"I think you need to get back to the ship right now," Merlin commented to Andra.
+Somehow, between the distortion waves, he found the inner calm to catch his breath in shallow groupings. It was like treading water.
-"I-I'm still able enough, and what-whatever you plan next, with all that has happened, I don't think to go alone is the best idea."
+Like when Andra taught him to swim early into Spartan training, one of those rare moments where she actually exhibited skills above the low standards expected by the drill instructors. Oh, how she proved them all wrong, blossoming into her best, only a couple years later.
-"You don't even know what my plan is, to begin with." Merlin pointed out.
+The memory of Andra shouting encouraging words to Merlin as he panicked between gulps of water warmed his heart. There he found his drive to fight once again.
-"You may have been the intelligence go-to back when we were still a complete unit, but none of us were pushovers either. If I'm struggling to formulate a hint of a plan, you probably have a gut feeling at most. I know you, Merlin. Whatever you got a thought about, it's better I keep—agh!" Andra's train of thought was cut off by a gasp of pain slipping out.
+He rose, once more onto shaking legs and for once, his swimmy vision retreated to a satisfactory level. He could see, hear. He could fight. Maybe it was his resolve, or maybe, more likely, the waves were retreating in intensity again.
-Merlin reached over and helped her stand. "You're really not in any condition to help Andra, whether your suit has you doped up on meds now or not. But we need to secure what intelligence we came here for. At least let me check on the Innies, it will only be a little while longer."
+"''That's it. You can do it. Rise.''"
-It was at that perfect-imperfect that Spartans' ONI handler chimed in over the radio. "Merlin, you get Andra over here on the double. We can't dock with you; the situation just went really far south."
+Merlin's eyes focused in on the distortions' origin point, the protruding metallic structure from before. Once past the blurriness and the burning in his eyes, he jumped back, startled.
-"I'm coaxing her into an escape pod now sir," Merlin responded before hitting a side panel switch, releasing the door clamps and opening the internal coffin-like apparatus. He shifted Andra's weight in his arms and lowered her gently into the slanted cradle as she continued clutching her stomach in pain.
+He wasn't standing atop stable ground anymore. The space station was in tatters, pieces. Metal sheets and reinforcement columns floated sporadically through gravity eddies and invisible currents around him. Beyond cracks in the destroyed station walls, he could even see the darkness of open space.
-"Just make it back to the ship. I'm not about to let you escape me too." Andra stated before coughing into her helmet.
+The protrusion was a much more complete, kilometer-tall object now. A samurai-like helm stared down at Merlin with wide fluorescent-blue eyes and glowing bits. Jagged, sword-like teeth bared at him within a predatory, alien grin. Its body was made of metal, maybe. The strange material glinted and fizzled as if not entirely complete. It appeared as if the surface particles were moving rapidly at the microscope level.
-Merlin chuckled at the morbid joke but quickly backed away to allow her to close the pod. It took only a second. With a single lever pool and she was gone, zooming out of the station. A blast door sealed the passageway behind her flying coffin.
+Very few things made Merlin freeze in fear. Mostly because he was inexperienced, but this? This was something entirely different.
-The Spartan turned around, not wasting another second, and calmed himself with a sigh and prepared to do whatever he needed to do. Andra was right, Merlin had no idea what he needed to do. He turned back into his communique tied to the UNSC ''Black Caviar'', "Sir, how bad is the situation?"
+Alien. Beastly. Monstrous. A true-to-life leviathan. Merlin was facing down a true cosmic horror. He didn't tinkle himself but he wished he did for the sake of distraction.
-"The...we see Andra's pod, we'll intercept it in a few minutes. You need to hurry and get out of there. The asteroid is gone, the station is torn up and drifting...and there's that thing..."
+He froze stiff as those unflinching eyes bored down upon him, unblinking and dead.
-"What thing?" Merlin asked in confusion.
+The former floor had transformed into a cliff's edge, leaving Merlin without many maneuvering options. ''Tsiolkovsky's'' artificial gravity generators had given up some time ago, according to the free-floating blood in Merlin's veins. The only thing keeping him upright now was his resolve, turned to panic, and his magnetic boots.
-"We got a Forerunner vessel out here, it burst from the asteroid and destroyed it. It's also giving off some wacky gravitational data. It's actually throwing off our sensor suite."
+The stare down didn't last much longer though. Smaller metallic creatures, vaguely resembling four-legged ants but the size of wolves crawled into view between the giant machine's skeletal plates towards Merlin.
-"What can I do sir?"
+An osmosis collision of oxygenated and vacuum environments robbed Merlin of his natural hearing but he watched the giant metalloid ants snap their heads back and about, flaring their pseudo-jaws and heads as if sniffing the air. When they tilted their heads up and vibrated their beak-like mouths, he imagined them expressing unearthly, mechanical screeches.
-"Retrieve any evidence you can regarding our original mission, then get out of there. We're sitting tight and that Forerunner thing hasn't done anything yet but it's staying pretty close to the station."
+While he didn't recognize the giant starship-sized horror, he recognized its affiliation. The resemblance was uncanny under further consideration, but the appearance of Promethean Crawlers was a deciding hint. Forerunner, the machine was Forerunner.
-"I'll see what I can do."
+His first proper introduction to the Forerunners, up close. Of course, they had to destroy the place – that seemed to be a running theme with their technology.
-"Make it fast." The ONI handler responded curtly.
+"You guys really trashed this place, my mission…" Merlin grumbled at them, of course, they couldn't hear him, much less understand him.
-Merlin glanced over the room and noted the destroyed computers and the CIC in general. Dead bodies sprawled out. He seriously doubted anyone else survived and he already grabbed his systems-control chip. So, if everything had gone to plan things should be done, right?
+He bared his teeth at the ancient machines, feeling a sense of uncertainty ebbing in his bones, beyond the existential pain brought on by the gravity waves. From the few data drops delivered to Ferret Team Boson over the last year, all Promethean war machines were to be engaged on sight and were susceptible to concentrated gunfire.
-Another blue waypoint flashed on Merlin's HUD, plastering over a body not far from where Merlin had come to when the gravity waves had started to subside enough for him to think. Not sure what was the cause for the suit signal or the reasoning, he approached quickly, jumping over metal desks and tables while keeping caution with his hand tucked around the grip of his bloodied, stolen magnum.
+He yanked the scavenged MA5C rifle off his back and slapped it into his other hand, leveling it in the general direction of the Crawlers. Quickly shifting between the hosts of potential targets, he wavered putting his finger on the trigger and engaging.
-The indicator apparently pinpointed to Merlin's discarded submachine gun. But it also led to a body of one Wealthian scientist with labored breathing. Alive. It was Doctor Sotiris.
+The giant machine and Crawlers weren't outright attacking him. The distortion waves were still waxing and waning and that might play havoc on his combat performance. Alternatively, his weapon might fail him. There were many variables at play here.
-Merlin's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. He glanced up and scanned the room, activating his VISR 4.0 visual-enhancement suite to check for finer details in his periphery.
+Ultimately, Merlin's decision fell to outside forces. The Crawlers kneeled and sprung from their crawling patterns on the giant Forerunner machine and onto the debris field floating about. They continued to patrol and scout out their surroundings as their design mandated supposedly, however, two jumped right at Merlin and caution disappeared with them.
-The CIC's few still-functioning light sources became blinding, harsh to his eyes, but he ignored it. Objects and shapes were separated by dull-yellow outlines, identifying the distance of objects by their association with Merlin's vision. Bodies that were most certainly dead were orbited by the same yellow outline, marking them as simply just another object in the surrounding scenery.
+His finger yanked down on the trigger and Merlin let loose the fresh magazine of thirty-caliber bullets. The gun kicked in his arms but he barely felt it as orange sparks danced across the closest Crawler's lunging form.
-Merlin looked over the bodies and identified a couple of others outlined in a brighter green color, the same color that enveloped Doctor Sotiris up close. Counting them, Merlin identified five individuals out of the crowd who managed to stave off death. An impressive feat.
+Holes, glowing with orange light, rippled into giant cracks on its body before it finally gave in and the machine exploded into particles and twisted metal. The Crawler's body slowed as its inertia did and it eventually zoomed off to join the rotating currents of space station debris.
-But before Merlin could figure out what to do about the survivors, he was struck with another course of bad luck. The ground around him started shaking violently. For a moment, a soft groan attempted to escape the Spartan's lips but as soon as the gravitational waves started kicking in, Merlin's groan turned into a gasp as he swallowed a groan that would have become a growled scream had he not started gasping for air.
+Half his magazine spent, Merlin let go of the MA5C's trigger and ducked as the second Crawler zoomed over his head and planted itself against the wall to his back.
-Merlin keeled over and felt his knees smack the metal floor beneath him. The voice of Andra and the ONI handler were distant in the back of his mind and lost in his ears.
+"Shit," Merlin cursed and rolled to the side. He locked in on the second Crawler and wasted the rest of his magazine into it. It crumpled under the onslaught and joined its fallen brother in the maelstrom.
-"Merlin! The station!"
+Taking two more steps back, Merlin clambered over Andra's spent escape pod launcher and moved to the next one along the wall. Leaning atop the tube, he twirled the MA5C while pushing down on the magazine release. The spent container zipped out of the rifle's magazine well and joined the space station debris, taken by the gravity currents.
-"Get out of there!"
+Merlin slapped a new magazine in and smacked the charging handle as more Crawlers zeroed in on his position and began to stalk toward him through the swirling debris field. If Merlin hadn't been a threat to them before, he was definitely one now.
-The gravitational waves continued to get worse or were they. Merlin wasn't feeling the same rumblings that pierced all the way into his being from earlier. This was more noticeable, more concrete and solid. It wasn't his body that was vibrating, it was the ground and the titanium beneath him.
+The Spartan continued to engage them with sporadic gunfire while slapping the wall behind him, blindly searching for the pod door release. He refused to die like this, biting off more than he could chew. He owed himself that; he owed Andra that.
-Merlin gripped at the floor with balled fists as the sounds of snapping and breaking metal came closer and closer, increasing in intensity and violence. The ground under Merlin's feet rumbled like an angry storm keeping him from rising from his hands and knees. It was becoming so aggressive he was faltering on his hands had it not been for the sturdiness of his armor keeping him up in a kneeling position.
+Crawlers splashed into orange bursts of light, crumbling under Merlin's continuous gunfire but instead of targeting him with their own mouth-held weapons or even jumping him, they corrected course and landed meters from his position, once more among unstable columns of debris.
-The very floor underneath Merlin curved and bent, upwards and towards Merlin. He didn't expect and could do little to brace for it. The titanium gave altogether, and he was thrown across the room as the floor and the structures beneath them rose out from below and washed over him like a storm surge made of metal.
+Merlin's rifle ceased firing again, once again spent. He quickly reloaded but stopped engaging, realizing the Crawlers weren't looking to him anymore. They were actually trotting and jumping away, finding more interest in something else. In a second split, he was already an afterthought.
-Merlin hit the far wall, hard. His head and shoulders were the first part of his body to make an impact but at least his suit absorbed most of the concussive force. A serious dent was left in the place he hit and the rear-most thruster analog points on his armor were crushed from the trauma. Merlin, stunned from the blast and the hit, crashed forward on his stomach as his shields gave out with a spark of golden light and to the blaring of warning indicator noises.
+His eyes trailed after the Crawlers, following their united paths and gazes to a distant blurry object hiding among the debris field. It was unlike the metallic blacks and whites that dominated the rest of his surroundings; instead, it was a rust-like brown. Very different from the other Wealthian architecture around him.
-"Ow," Merlin mumbled to himself.
+And then it flared harshly, as blinding as a nuclear flash, actually blinding Merlin even as he threw up a hand and his helmet polarized fully to withstand the light.
-Glancing up, Merlin had to take a moment to blink out the dark and gray stars dancing in and around his vision before being able to process his situation clearly. The sight before him was mildly absurd, and had he not been suffering from a mild headache, Merlin might have instead laughed instead of gasping at the uninvited guest.
+For a very real second, Merlin thought it was a nuclear weapon. This was going to be his grave after all. On the other hand, a second passed and he wasn't radioactive toast. There was a lot of light, an apparent radiation spike, and he didn't go splat against a wall or anything. His boots remained locked to the floor.
-First, a flower-like disk object bashed its way into the CIC before being discarded off to the side like a frisbee. It was round, kind of thick like a turtle shell but had an underlining frame with a circular assortment of spikes like the underside of a horseshoe crab, as if the object's underlying feet had been tucked inward to grasp something that had long since been removed. Titanium rods were seemingly bolted into it as if previously holding it in place in some dangling apparatus. Maybe that was the artifact the Wealthians had been talking about.
+Instead, the gravity distortions suddenly ceased with a very audible ''pop''. Merlin still couldn't see, or rather, his entire vision was dark. He wasn't blind. His armor was functioning and his visor was only partially polarized.
-Merlin noticed his HUD mark it as a 'Carapace Probe' when he glanced at it. Good to know.
+Merlin willed an environmental scanner sheet to pop up on his heads-up display. His eyes skimmed the digital page looking for anything particular but found nothing. Then he did, his eyes freezing on a certain radiation reading.
-The second uninvited guest was like a giant mole head sticking out of a ruined, metal hole in the floor. Those familiar blue, glowing eyes attached to a glossy-silver-like head stared Merlin down. It was angular, trapezoidal and triangular in a kind of pinhead kind of way. It also had two rows of highly-sharpened, almost-serrated teeth hidden behind a thinly-veiled layer of metal. Other blue lights glowed and danced in luminosity across the metal body. Evidently, a Forerunner construction of some kind.
+''Cherenkov radiation''.
-Merlin clambered to his knees and then up to his feet and sickeningly realized that the rest of the people and corpses in the room were gone. His heads-up display reported the room's oxygen had been depleted to about zero, and that his suit was running on its reserve air tank. The entire room had been rapidly decompressed without Merlin noticing in his disorientating pain. Everyone but him had been sucked out the bottom of the hole.
+Another ''pop''. Another flash. Merlin shielded his eyes again to no success, but this time he felt an extreme sucking sensation and his vision filled with an intense onslaught of colorful light.
-The Wealthians were all gone. All of them, even Doctor Sotiris.
+Natural gravity took hold again, spinning around him. Merlin kept his eyes shut but recognized the dominating color just outside of his eyelids as blue. A deep, sky blue.
-"Shit..." Merlin mumbled. He stared up at the Forerunner construct in confusion as it motionlessly stared back at him. A face-off between a man, and a giant-ass machine made by a long-dead alien civilization for some unknown purpose beyond Merlin's immediate understanding.
+A low whistling roared in his ears as gusts whipped around his combat armor. He felt himself falling but didn't dare look. Blue still dominated the seeping light show outside.
-Looking closely, Merlin could see giant, dog-sized robotic quadruped drones crawling along its surface. They looked almost like ants, but, really-large, metal ants.
+Merlin hit something hard. His dulled aches returned, flaring in agitation before dulling again into a deep, sluggish soup. Everything faded into black, and remained like that, for a long while.
-The stare down didn't last long because for the innumerable time this day, Merlin's circumstances were out of his control and luck was again not on his side.
+<center>'''. . .'''</center>
-The Carapace Probe was hissing off to the side. Merlin turned to look toward it, not sure what to make of it. He clutched at his submachine gun in hand hard as he watched some of the ant-like drones crawl off the giant Forerunner machine and make their way toward the device. Merlin wasn't even sure how he was hearing the loud ''hiss'', but it was distinctly static noise.
+Merlin's dreams echoed with the cacophony of gunfire and battle.
-The giant artifact, Merlin assumed it was the one the Wealthians had been investigating, began pulsating with light. Getting brighter. And brighter. And brighter.
+Andra was kneeling behind him, her M395 DMR pounding away bullet after bullet, while he held up a curved Forerunner-style shield constructed from blue-colored hard light, protecting them both.
-Merlin raised his arms instinctually to block out the source of the light and to get a better view, but it continued to get brighter. He started feeling the sensation of being pulled across the metal floor beneath him and Merlin slid his feet experimentally to hold himself down, noting his gravity boots were already initiated to keep him plastered to the floor.
+"Another frag," Andra yelled-groaned as a small pineapple-style M9 grenade flew out from behind a toppled server box.
-A female voice in Merlin's ear suddenly cursed, "''Shit. It's a Slipspace rupture!''"
+Two bullets zipped at the explosive, one missing, the other finding its target. The grenade popped into a burst of smoke and light but little else as the bullet smashed the casing before the chemical fuse could detonate.
-Merlin stared at the light until it was so bright that everything around him and all his sensations were descriptively 'white.'
+Merlin expected another burst of hostile gunfire from the Wealthian unit hunkered down before them. He didn't expect the second grenade.
-Andra's scream, calling Merlin's name, pierced through only for a split-second before being washed away by static. Merlin remembered trying to think but not remembering what his mind was even trying to process as his body and mind became overwhelmed by sensation overload.
+"Grenade!" Andra shouted in alarm before she started jittering about; kicking her legs to press herself further into the cubical for cover. The disjointed, amateurish behavior caught Merlin off guard and he looked back to his teammate out of concern.
-A final gravitational wave smashed into him, most felt in his stomach as if being punched and pushed back a second time.
+Rookie mistake.
-Everything Merlin knew was white, and then darkness. And then, nothing.
+The little orb rolled between Merlin's legs and past his shield, collecting itself between the kneeling Merlin and sitting Andra.
-==<big><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">'''Part 2: Endure Solitude'''</span></big>==
-{{Clear}}
+"Oh shit!" Merlin panicked. He bailed forward as his hard light shield collapsed into nothing. Caught in a frenzy, his brain could do nothing but yell at him about how screwed he was.
-<div style='border: 1px cyan; box-shadow: 1px 1px 4px 4px cyan;'><br>
-<center><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">{{Quote|War tears us apart, leaves us broken and alone. But it brings out our rawest potential.| '''James P. Baig, Excerpt from ''The Poltergeist'''''}}</span></center>
+Andra in her own confounded fit lunged forward. Landing right on the grenade, she pressed her stomach and arms around it to form a rudimentary container.
-<br/></div><br/>
+The grenade exploded with a nasty crackle like fireworks, causing a ringing to erupt in Merlin's ears. He couldn't hear but he saw it all, looking back. The smoke, the little bits of zipping shrapnel, Andra's energy shields collapsing in a sparkling-golden display.
+A heart-wrenching, primal scream of pain escaped her lips as little holes and cuts formed in her suit's soft sections. Pellets popped beneath her skin, leaving deep gashes through tissue and muscle. Her armor stopped the pressure wave but couldn't protect her from the shaped steel.
+All Merlin could do was rise on his knees from the ground, refocus his hard light shield while gunfire erupted before him again. He blocked the bullets but looked back to his fallen friend, attempting to scream her name. Nothing came out.
+Her gasping screams just continued, on and on it went until it sounded the same as white noise. Merlin could do nothing but watch, frozen, as she shuddered in pain, just out of reach.
+He couldn't protect her. She just withered there, stuck and alone. She shouldered it all alone, her pain, and his pain.
+He failed her.
+"''Merlin.''"
+That whisper was back.
+"''Merlin!''"
+What? What did it want?
+"''Wake up!''"
+"Uh…uh…Ugh! What-what is it?" Merlin sluggishly woke with a start, feeling his arms push through the thick space around him. It felt resistant, like a deep soup.
+He startled himself half to death when a light-orange-and-green tropical fish zipped by his helmet visor and into the deep blue yonder beyond.
+Deep blue yonder. Bubbles of gas rose from his slow, imprecise movements towards an endless lighter-blue film above. A sparkling circle danced above the waves, beyond them.
+Merlin was beneath an ocean.
+"''We need to move now, Spartan!''"
+That urgent whisper again. What was that? The AI?
+Merlin looked around him for the source of the voice but he didn't get far.
+"''Forget about that right now. You need to go a hundred and thirty-two meters to your right, right now! We've got a pair of water bogeys inbound.''"
+"Bogeys?"
+"''Listen!''"
+Merlin went silent, doing so. Drawn out ''clicks'', ''zaps'', and ''zips''. Complex noise patterns.
+"Yeah, what about it?"
+"''What do you think? It's Morse code!''"
+"What do—"
+He listened a little closer and noted the drawn-out noises included rapid short notes as well. They sounded intentional, detailed. Short and long to designate certain letters and numbers. Morse code. He wasn't exactly sure what the 'bogeys' were saying but it was enough to get his ass moving.
+Merlin sprinted, or whatever sprinting entailed, three stories beneath the ocean's surface moving at a snail's pace in a half-ton suit of titanium.
+It took a long time, pushing through the thick blue shifting into a cool brown. He climbed over metal debris, rocks, and coral. He passed through undersea sand dunes and clouds of disturbed dust. He clambered up a sheer cliff face.
+He marched over sandbars and through thigh-deep water and sticky submarine sands that dragged his armored boots.
+Frantic, confused, and tired. Merlin limped toward a beach guarded by a thick line of pointy trees. If not in his delirious state, he might have claimed it a tropical paradise; whether true or not was another matter. His vision was swimming again; he could feel the burning weakness in his muscles, in his bones. He focused in on reaching the white-sanded beach.
+Step by step. He collapsed finally, one metal boot punched into wet sand and another just barely underwater, submerged and surrounded by awash seashells.
+He slipped, collapsed onto his side, quivering and breathing heavily. Just breathing, he focused then on that.
+The gentle, feminine whisper returned once more. "''Shh, Merlin. You're all right now; you're safe. I'll keep watch. Sleep. Shh.''"
+<center>[[Halo:_Lonely_Frontier#Halo:_Lonely_Frontier|''Return to Top'']]</center>
+==='''Chapter Five: Beckett Blues'''===
+:<big><u>'''Andra'''</u></big>
+:'''2034 Hours, 02 November 2558'''
+:'''UNSC Flagship ''Infinity'''''
+:'''Location Unknown'''
+Andra almost died of fright upon wandering by Frendsen’s officer suite two days after her debriefing regarding Operation: RUNIT DOME.
+She respected her superior officer but her knowledge of him extended little due to their infantile working relationship. He seemed professional but weird, with his fascination for paper documents and college professor antics, not that Andra knew anything about professors.
+His visitation rules were strange too; knock before entering and always request meetings in advance. However, he did request her presence two hours ago, so when she heard glass shatter from his ajar door, she tossed formality to the wind and barged in.
+She felt like a fool upon crashing an officers’ meeting between Frendsen and his guests, Captain Thomas Lasky, and Lieutenant Commander Vilda Stenbeck.
+Frendsen rose from his desk so fast, his chair screeched along the plastic floor and he appeared to pop up like a sentient turnip. “Andra?”
+Her face turned pale, realizing she just made a nasty mistake. She glanced between the three officers, all far and above her reproach. Captain Lasky eyes drifted between the young Spartan and the shattered glass of alcohol on the floor, once in hand. Stenbeck was leaning forward, towards the Captain as if emphasizing a point but straightened at the sight of Andra dressed in civilian attire.
+Everyone was quiet, everyone was staring.
+“Uh, apologizes for the intrusion. Sirs. Ma’am. I’ll take my leave and come back when my commander isn’t busy.” Andra rattled off a rushed apology to the high-ranking military personnel, spun on her heel and made for the door.
+“Wait-wait-wait,” Stenbeck called and Andra obeyed, pausing with a shoulder glance. “Stay, it’s not an issue.”
+“Stenbeck, this is not the time to be discussing those things. Especially in front of personnel without appropriate security clearance, or an open door.” The Captain started, straightening his back.
+“To be honest, Captain. Screw security clearance. Screw the chain of command. We’re on the run. Who cares if one Spartan hears about a weapon system that is technically less secret than her own existence?”
+Captain Lasky turned to Andra again as she stiffened under his tired, brown-eyed gaze. “I’m sorry to give you a scare Spartan…”
+“Spartan-D054.” She supplied.
+“Last name, Spartan.” Apparently, Lasky was a people person, not much for the formalities of ONI or secret, augmented child-soldiers. She appreciated that, especially when she wasn’t in uniform.
+“Kearsarge,” Andra stated, just a little bit proud of her deceased mother’s maiden name.
+“Spartan Kearsarge, you’re dismissed. I’ll have Frendsen call you back in a little bit.”
+“Sir,” Andra saluted the Captain and went to do the same to the two Lieutenant Commanders but stopped upon meeting Stenbeck’s blood-freezing glare. The Spartan’s voice retreated into a gurgled silence. Frendsen made no noise, glancing between his Spartan subordinate and the two other officers occupying his quarters.
+“Lieutenant Commander…” Lasky’s level tone spiked just a hint, insinuating the fine line the ONI officer walked.
+“Sir, you’re the highest-ranked officer on ''Infinity'', the highest-ranking in the task force. Earth has gone dark. We can’t communicate with FLEETCOM, as it stands, our own networks are compromised to Cortana. We need to deploy our INKVs now, while they still haven’t been intercepted by the Created.”
+“And what, risk ''Infinity’s'' position, or the recovery points we’re establishing on the Frontier for our away teams? I can’t risk it.”
+“We have enough launch stations scattered across the Frontier. Sea-launch and installation-based NOVAs. The Prowler Corps is probably already lined up and ready, we can have target solutions in hours!” Stenbeck continued to push the Captain.
+“I’m not going to do it. I will not jeopardize ''Infinity'' over potentially compromised nukes. That’s my final word on that,” Lasky countered at his subordinate, genuine frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Consider this meeting over. Muster your team and have them ready for deployment, I don’t want to hear another word of this, Stenbeck. I mean it.”
+The Lieutenant Commander’s face was an outright scowl as her eyes squinted into narrow slips at the UNSC ''Infinity’s'' steadfast Captain. Her lips oozed with vindication. “Understood. Your orders, Captain. I’ll see myself out.”
+Andra pedaled frantically to the side to let the rage-filled naval officer pass unchallenged out of the suite. The officer’s legs shifted robotically, a stiff shuffling of her hips out the room. She didn’t know Stenbeck well, even with RUNIT DOME, but it seemed Frendsen’s warnings about her were right. Best stay clear.
+Captain Lasky watched her leave, a narrow-eyed grimace on his face until she disappeared out the door and around the corner all the way until her footsteps no longer echoed. Content, he placed a hand to his forehead and glanced at the two other occupants of Frendsen’s quarters.
+“My apologies for that Frendsen, I should have kept a better grip on my glass. Allow me to clean it up.”
+“No problem, Captain,” Frendsen said, moving out from behind his cluttered work desk to pull a broom and dustpan from a small side closet. He joined the Captain to kneel by the scattered mess of glass shards on the ground and handed the officer the cleaning items.
+“Thank you,” the Captain stated and proceeded to sweep the mess up in a matter of minutes.
+The entire time Andra watched them work, wide-eyed. She wasn’t familiar with officer protocol, but she imagined herself at a sort-of zoo, watching these two naval officers hover over a pile of broken glass and the remains of melted ice.
+Once assorted, the glass and ice were tossed in the plastic dustbin underneath Frendsen’s desk, the cleaning tools were placed back in the cupboard, and Lasky went for the door.
+“Apologies again, Frendsen. Spartan Kearsarge,” The Captain acknowledged, stopping at the doorway. “I’ll see myself out; and one other thing, Frendsen.”
+“Yes, Captain?” Frendsen nodded to the superior with his arms clasped comfortably behind him.
+“That drink, it's good. Remind me, what was it?”
+“Jameson Irish Whiskey. 2529.”
+“Four years into the War,” Lasky nodded with a thoughtful frown, considering the age of the golden-brown bottle sitting atop Frendsen’s desk. “I was nineteen then; a lifetime ago.”
+He said waved and exited the room, leaving Frendsen alone with Andra.
+The Spartan and ONI Lieutenant Commander said nothing in the meantime, listening to the Captain’s footsteps disappear around the corner. Once quiet, Frendsen crossed the room and stopped at the door-side control panel. With a button press, the suite door slid shut, leaving the remaining occupants to their privacy.
+Andra said nothing, waiting patiently for her superior’s next words. He slid back behind his desk, pulled his chair close to the table, and settled his dark-skinned hands on the desk in a comfortable grip among a sea of vanilla paper. A small, generous smile graced his jaw while Andra stared back aloofly at the center of the room.
+Clearly, he wouldn’t talk first.
+“So… What are INKVs?” The female Spartan asked, crossing her arms.
+The Lieutenant Commander’s smile tugged a bit south, but he answered anyway. “Humanity’s spear after the Covenant War. Next-generation missiles equipped with Slipspace drives and the biggest bombs ever built. Intended for destroying Covenant worlds if they decided to continue the War.”
+Andra’s eyes fluttered at the explanation. Entire planets? She couldn’t fathom that.
+“Why didn’t we use them, to begin with? Get our revenge?”
+“Because if our species is to have a future, it needs to move forward. Not get bogged down by old grudges. We were the dominant galactic civilization until a few days ago. No point in destroying our defeated enemies.”
+“And now?”
+“Stenbeck is desperate. No one knows what to do now. We’re just running until we figure something out.”
+“Then let’s just nuke the Created. Weaken them.” Andra frowned, seeing the problem and solution promptly.
+“And what of the billions of alien and human lives we destroy in the process? It’s not a gamble the Captain wants to take, and neither do I. And you shouldn’t want it either.”
+Andra hummed at the explanation but said nothing more on the matter. It seemed even a stringent man like Frendsen could loosen a little when the galaxy was falling apart around him.
+“Enough about that now, I called you in here because I have some news.”
+Andra’s eyebrows rose, doubt evident. Hard to feel anything worse or better when your best friend was possibly dead, and civilization was on the brink of destruction. “What is it?”
+“The prowler ''Beckett'' reported back that they recovered Team Xiphos. They’re returning to ''Infinity'' as we speak.”
+“Josh and Amy are okay?”
+“I don’t know; the message was spotty. I know Xiphos though, they’ve been in tough spots before.”
+That was good news, or at least, the best news Andra received in more than seventy hours. Her seniors were alive and kicking. Joshua-G024 and Amy-G094 trained Andra and her friends after they graduated from SPARTAN-III Delta Company. As a pair of Gamma Company Headhunters, they were among the deadliest Spartan teams alive. They were likely just fine.
+Amy could be aloof and distant but warm outside training. She didn’t show much favoritism, but she treated everyone fairly and worked Boson hard. Andra got along with her.
+Joshua, on the other hand, was often cold and distant, but showed Andra special treatment, always showering her with appropriate praise and tutoring her in everything he could. He was the older brother she never had.
+More so when he busted Merlin’s ribs last year; Andra still winced at that thought. Her fingers pinched her shirt fabric while thinking about Merlin and Joshua in the same thought. The two didn’t get along but they did have something in common that they cherished: Andra. The two saw something when others passed her over as insignificant. They believed in her and she loved them both for it, and more.
+Frendsen continued to watch over his subordinate as a million emotions and thoughts flashed through her eyes. Droplets glistened at the edges, as hope and a rare smile overwhelmed the young girl. “Thank you for informing me, sir.”
+“No problem, Spartan. That said, they won’t be back until three or four hundred hours. That’s more than six hours away, think you can handle the wait?”
+“Well, there’s only so much you can do aboard ''Infinity'' dressed as a civilian.”
+Frendsen tilted his head at the statement. “What have you been up to?”
+“Making my bed. Arguing with Roland. PT-ing on my own around the ship. Drawing. Sleeping,” Andra counted off with extended fingers. “Five items I guess.”
+Frendsen nodded quietly in thought and looked to his table of controlled chaos. His eyes held there for an uncounted number of seconds. Andra curiously watched him while timidly tugging at her tee shirt’s hemline.
+“Do you have something to do between now and then?” Frendsen asked, looking back at the Spartan.
+“I could head back to my quarters and change into coveralls and see if Commander Palmer has any open slots for War Games. Or maybe just go catch some shuteye, whatever I can get anyway…”
+“Will you?”
+“No idea. Sleep hasn’t come easy, the last two days.”
+“I understand,” Frendsen glanced back to his desk, “you can also loiter here if you like. I have a Sci Deck datapad you can borrow.”
+“Egg-board.” Andra’s eyebrows knitted together but a half-smirk twitched on her lips.
+“Egg-board?” Frendsen repeated with a questioning eyebrow.
+“Palmer calls them that. Eggheads, scientists. Egg-boards, datapads.”
+“I didn’t need to know that,” Frendsen said, shifting two desk piles aside to unearth a dusty computer tablet.
+“Okay,” Andra replied smartly, wiping the tugging smile from her lips. Her eyes trailed Frendsen as he swiped at the device screen, sending tiny particles freckling through the stale starship air.
+“Here,” Frendsen passed the datapad to Andra before sitting down behind his desk and scooting in. “I got several more intel packages to go through, so try to keep disturbances to a minimum. You can take the couch there.”
+Andra took the officer’s offer and moved to a plain-style synthetic leather couch in the corner, double-tapping the screen to power it up.
+“What you going to do?” Frendsen asked without looking up from his paperwork while the Spartan girl skimmed through system programs.
+“Watch ''Odd One Out'',” Andra stated without pause.
+“That WayPoint children’s show?” Frendsen asked in disbelief.
+Andra expected that reaction; it was hard to imagine a Spartan enjoying a children’s show. But she was a child, technically. If there was anything important that her previous commander taught Andra, it was to hold dear to her childhood. And even as a Spartan, that was what she did.
+“I like Spartan-1337, he’s funny.” She added without looking up.
+Frendsen glanced up at Andra for a few seconds before disappearing again into his paperwork. She allowed herself a small smile, claiming a tiny personal victory over the often-aloof commanding officer.
+The room’s only noise came from Frendsen’s jumbled desk, a smattering of stapler clicks, paper shuffling, and the occasional pencil scratch. Andra didn’t make any noise herself, curled up stealthily on the sofa. She eased herself into the antics of a cartoon Spartan on her clasped datapad while noises of battle and poor jokes rattled off in her head via neural implant.
+A warm fuzzy feeling heaved in her chest with silent laughter, but it did not reach her face. It was a good moment, but one that could be better. If only Merlin were here, sharing this moment of animated reruns with her. ''Tri-O'' was his show too.
+<center>'''. . .'''</center>
+Andra leaned into her right hip, relaxing her impatient nerves after standing sharp for over thirty minutes. Her eyes lazily traced the rigid bumps and fixtures that populated the far-off ceiling of Hangar Seventeen.
+Frendsen stood calmly next to her, occasionally checking for emails on the same datapad Andra used earlier to watch anime Spartans. On the hangar’s other end, a mismatching fireteam of five SPARTAN-IVs maintained security under the watchful eye of a helmetless Commander Sarah Palmer.
+In another time, Captain Lasky might have joined the welcoming party to meet their guests, however, security circumstances and pressing command duties seemed to regulate the usually personable Captain to the bridge and personal quarters. At least that was what Fireteam Kodiak and Palmer had been yapping about five minutes ago.
+Now they waited, settling in a loose gathering by some storage crates. Andra examined their armor sets with a passing interest, quizzing herself on the different panels and plates bolted onto their tech-suit frames. Between the lack of consistency and subtle differences in their colorations, it reminded Andra a little of her own unit’s preferences.
+Due to the continued military-industrial complex after the Covenant War and the relaxed regulations of the Spartan Branch, Andra occasionally witnessed the bemusing phenomenon of a SPARTAN-IV in hot pink armor. Sometimes it was the aftermath of a devilish prank, and other times, it was completely intentional.
+Gratefully, nobody dressed as such this morning. Commander Palmer’s angry fits were noteworthy.
+Andra’s own armor never reached such outlandish feats. Instead, hers was a dirty, mundane mix of white and black splotches with acquiesced gear from the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers that she made sure never to parade around in. It wasn’t worth drawing the attention of any book-throwing superior officer with an eye for sharp uniforms.
+“Andra, Xiphos is back.” Frendsen softly announced, looking up from his clutched datapad.
+She gave her superior a nod and examined the black void dotted with distant stars before her. Guarded by a vibrant energy shield, the edges of her vision were tinted blue from electrified particles. Andra scanned the vacuum looking for a warping blur of starlight as a darkish, semi-transparent balloon passing by them.
+From the one or two times she visited aboard Team Xiphos’s personal prowler, the ''Private Property'', Andra developed a familiarity for the stealth trick. She wondered where it was now; probably lost like so many other ships to Created incursions across human space days after Cortana announced her imperialist annexation of the galaxy.
+She blinked for a moment, holding back a wetting, early tear for Merlin and for the bands of refugees forming temporary settlements in the hangars and halls of the ''Infinity''. In the corner of her squinting left eye, she caught the tell-tale sign of the ''Beckett'' arriving.
+“I see them,” Andra said, a little louder than Frendsen’s previous statement, drawing the attention of the other Spartans.
+“Now…?” One of the Kodiak members called from their makeshift seat only to stand alertly when the space at the edge of Hangar Seventeen flickered like refractions off pool water that peeled back into a hexagonal weave revealing a jet-black, titanium hull of the most alien-looking specimen among human warships, a ''Sahara''-class prowler. The UNSC ''Beckett''.
+The hangar intercom thundered to life as Roland announced the ship’s presence, “Captain Lasky, the captain of ''Beckett'' requests permission to offload their wounded and restock on supplies.”
+“Granted, Roland. Palmer, please see to their needs, anything they need for continued long-term operations.” Lasky responded while passing jurisdiction of the prowler to the Spartan commander.
+“Will do, Captain,” Palmer called back as the jet-black ship drew closer, slipping past the great blue field holding back the empty vacuum of space. Upon passing the shield, the low hum of the prowler’s maneuvering thrusters rumbled through the air.
+Titanium hangar floor met titanium ship body with a screech and click, subtle docking links locking into place. The anterior door located at the ''Beckett’s'' bow hissed, sliding down to reveal a ramp and a team of Navy corpsmen and ONI Security contractors waiting in the airlock. The security troopers stepped aside briskly allowing the corpsmen to plow down the ramp in a frantic throng, dragging a large cryogenic storage device on a gurney into the hangar space; the kind of storage unit intended for severely injured individuals.
+“Oh shit,” Andra mouthed off, chilling fear curling around her heart, “Who’s that? Are they okay?”
+“Spartan-G094. We need to get her to an intensive care unit immediately, she’s barely stabilized on ice.” A corpsman called as Andra and Frendsen approached the freezing casket.
+Commander Palmer acted quickly, gesturing to Fireteam Kodiak. “Kodiak, two keep guard. Two come with me to the ''Beckett''. One goes with Lieutenant Commander Frendsen and prep the operating table for G094.”
+“Ma’am,” The members of Kodiak briskly said in varied unison and moved to their respective order stations. One of Kodiak joined Andra and Frendsen at the medical pod’s side along with the medical team, pushing their reinforced gurney along towards the loading elevator at the hangar’s rear.
+And for Andra, she shoved passed the corpsmen and stopped the cart in its tracks. She stared wildly into the frosty, curved window separating her from the occupant within. She recognized the bludgeoned and dented armor below. Steel-colored plates patterned over a scarred-up Spartan tech suit. Dulled white polygons marked with clotting purple alien and red human blood. A cracked PATHFINDER helmet with a heavily scratched yellowish visor.
+This was Amy-G094, bloody and beaten inches from death. Was that even possible?
+Andra planted her hands against the cold glass, pressing into it to feel the cold bite against them, a reminder of this bleak reality. She curled her fingers into fists and glared menacingly at the nearest corpsman.
+“Josh! Where’s Josh?” She demanded, reaching out and gripping the man by shoulders, lifting him into the air and atop the casket.
+“Petty Officer!” Frendsen shouted behind Andra but she didn’t listen, she wanted to know. Right. Now.
+“We-we don’t know! He wasn’t aboard the escape pod where we found G094. We checked the area around their transponder and found nothing!”
+“You left him for dead!” She growled viciously at the shivering corpsman; in any other scenario, it might have been funny, a teenage girl making a medic piss his pants.
+“We were out there for two days! Any longer and we risked pirates or Created zeroing in on us!”
+“Ugh,” Andra grunted at his insufficient response, lightly tossing the man into the medical casket before letting him go.
+The escorting Kodiak member seized Andra’s shoulder, yanking her back a step while pressing down with an armored gauntlet. “Spartan, stand down.”
+Frendsen took that moment to yell at his subordinate. “Andra, you’re out of order! Stand down!”
+Andra eyed the SPARTAN-IV with the greatest volume of malice she could muster. She reached deep, drawing from the fears of Merlin’s demises, the rage of missing Joshua, the shock of Amy’s injuries, her trained distaste for SPARTAN-IVs as fake Spartans.
+Her nose wrinkled up at the seven-foot-supersoldier and violently yanked her shoulder from his tight grasp. It stung, probably left a bruise, but it felt good. Fuck this. Screw all these people and the whole universe for taking those she loved away from her.
+Andra backpedaled, slipped around Frendsen who sidestepped out of her warpath. She sprinted towards the cargo elevator and didn’t look back at the gathering of UNSC personnel. She didn’t dare let them hear the violent heaves giving way to the stream of tears rolling down her cheeks.
+She barely heard Frendsen yelling up a storm behind her, “Spartan-D054, get back here!”
+<center>'''. . .'''</center>
+Andra waited until her wardroom’s sliding door clicked shut to unfurl her coiled rage. Hot tears rained down her cheeks as she gritted her teeth together and clutched her hoodie and hair against her temples.
+Hot air hissed from the back of her throat against her locked jaws, pressuring against the walls until she let the painful roar leave her lips with a gasp. “Ah-uhh!”
+She sputtered, coughing as loose saliva slipped into her airway. Settling down in momentary silence, Andra caught her breath but a fire still raged beneath her skin.
+A casual glance to the side led her to cross the room from the doorway to the hanger rack at her bedside. A cruel grimace marked up Andra’s face as she approached the few assorted clothing items waiting at attention: her depowered Spartan tech suit and coveralls, a dusty naval parade uniform she hadn’t touched in a year, three sets of civilian clothes from her old studio apartment in New Phoenix, and her used hospital gown from the operating room.
+She ripped the hospital gown from its coat hanger, creating a clacking of metal hangar against its metal hanging bar. She hooked the fabric between her two hands and examined it disinterestedly, noting the loose ribbons of cotton and bioplastics hanging around its newly destroyed collar.
+Andra grabbed the two shoulder points in the gown and pulled in opposite directions. A ''thud-popping'' noise rippled as sown thread weaves frayed apart in her pale-white grips. The hospital gown came apart neatly, like torn tissue paper, leaving two bundled messes hanging from her hands.
+She huffed to herself, tossing the two bundles to Merlin’s unoccupied bunk and didn’t dare look back at the destruction she left. She glared back at the hanger rack for the next thing to shred apart. Her hand sailed up and latched onto the dusty-looking, white Navy parade uniform.
+She was certain she was going to rip it; so certain she could imagine the seams getting cut between her fingers and her throwing the few ribbons and service medals from the fabric so hard they embedded in the wall behind her.
+Andra let go of the uniform, her hand falling lamely to her side. No, she wouldn’t go that far. She didn’t need that incident on her already spotty record, and explaining why she destroyed her uniform to Frendsen wouldn’t be enjoyable.
+She twisted around to face her well-made bed, fresh from yesterday’ s scrutinous morning ritual as she had done so for the last week. During the pseudo-nights, she’d decimate the covers to get a good night’s sleep but during the pseudo-day snoozes, she’d curl up on Merlin’s bunk to avoid destroying her meticulous work.
+She began her early morning routine three hours early, raging at her bed in a grand adventure of reconstituting her well-made hospital corners and perfectly formed sheets.
+She layered the sheets on top of one another, formed her corner triangles, secured the loose fabric, and fluffed her pillow into a decent rectangle. And it looked all wrong, as usual.
+“Before you consider tearing up your bed again, maybe you’d consider discussing what’s eating at you Spartan?”
+“Roland, get out!” Andra yelled without glancing up from the developing bedding disaster.
+The golden Smart AI’s human-sized avatar flickered into existence just over the Spartan’s shoulder. He took a few steps from his projector origin point into the room, stopping to stand in Andra’s peripheral.
+“Hey,” Roland softly prodded, accepting none of the girl’s hostility. “I’ve come by every morning since you got discharged. I’ve given you space but I’ve also kept my eye out for yah, and right now, it's looking like you need someone to talk to.”
+Letting go over her bedsheets, Andra sighed in half-hearted defeat and eyed the hologram with red-stained eyes and puffy cheeks. “What do you want Roland? Can’t you see I want to be left alone.”
+“I think you need someone to talk to right now, and you’ve managed to piss off everyone that I can immediately identify that might give you a shoulder to weep on, so, I’m all you’ve got.”
+“Yeah, Frendsen can be upset if he wants to. I don’t give a fat shit.”
+“You manhandled a medic; I think his anger is at least justified.”
+“They left Joshua out there to die. He’s dead because of them!”
+“They tried their best,” Roland corrected in a slow tone, careful not to set the Spartan girl off. “The Created is hunting all of us now, we can’t risk losing an entire prowler for one missing corpse. I’m really sorry for your loss, I can tell you cared deeply for him.”
+“You said corpse,” Andra’s eyes narrowed. “What are you trying to say? That he was long dead before they got there?”
+The Smart AI sighed, bringing a transparent hand to his eyes. “Yes, I’m saying Spartan-G024 died four days before the ''Beckett'' recovered Spartan-G094.”
+“How do you know this?” Andra demanded, standing up to her full height, towering just a couple inches over the golden hologram. Roland didn’t budge from his spot.
+“G094’s suit recorder confirmed Spartan-G024 died of brain hypoxia following a breach in his vacuum suit. I’m really sorry Spartan, he was long dead before the recovery team could reach him.”
+Andra was quiet for a long time, staring down at the floor, processing this load of heavy-hitting information. She wrongly blamed the medical personnel and the crew of the UNSC ''Beckett'' for failing to save Joshua, Andra could accept that error but she was still burning on an emotional high. Tears were still dripping over her wardroom’s matted floor.
+“I’m sorry, alright? I’m deal-dealing with a lot of crap right now. All my friends are missing or out of reach. My parents are dead. I lost Merlin. I lost Joshua. Amy’s in a coma. The universe is taking everyone and everything I’ve ever cared about from me, one by one! Everything I’ve been fighting for; its all gone.”
+Roland watched Andra mumble through her demons, nodding slowly in understanding. There wasn’t anything he could say that would make the situation better and he wasn’t corporeal, he didn’t have a physical body to wrap this emotionally decimated child in a hug. All he could give her was his presence and a figurative ear to listen.
+“Roland,” Andra sniffled after a while of silent tears, “where are they keeping Amy’s armor?”
+“You’re talking about the helmet footage?”
+Andra nodded without looking up at the Smart AI’s projection.
+“I’m not sure that’s a good idea Spartan. I’ve reviewed the footage… I would advise against looking at it right now.”
+“For once Roland, just fucking tell me. I don’t want to hear you talk about rules. Just tell me.”
+“I can have a recorder copy delivered here if you like,” Roland offered but Andra cut him off.
+“No! Her armor, I want to see it! None of this protective bullshit, I’m a Spartan. I’ve faced Death before, I can handle myself. Just tell me where I can find the damn recorder,” she paused, glaring confidently behind tearful pupils into the golden projection’s concerned, wide fake-eyes. “Please Roland.”
+<center>[[Halo:_Lonely_Frontier#Halo:_Lonely_Frontier|''Return to Top'']]</center>
+==='''Chapter Six: On That Beach'''===
+:<big><u>'''Merlin'''</u></big>
+:'''Daylight Local Time, 02 November 2558'''
+:'''''Tsiolkovsky'' Crash Site'''
+:'''Location Unknown'''
+''“Merlin, wake up.”''
+Andra’s distant, dreamful voice echoed across the fuzzy darkness, tugging lightly at her slumbering friend’s conscience. It was warm and quiet. He shivered and squinted his barely aware eyelids, refusing the call.
+He felt warm here. “Just a little longer,” he mumbled.
+''“Merlin, you need to wake up.”''
+He grumbled, attempting to turn over in bed away from his friend’s voice but an invisible weight held him down, immobilizing him in place. Like a heavy suit of armor.
+“Merlin. Wake. Up.”
+His eyelids fluttered open, blinking away at the soft golden light passing through his helmet visor as the cold, abrupt urgency of Andra’s voice shook him awake. He let himself go again; Andra was going to berate him. Frendsen too, if he was present.
+“I’m up, I’m up.” He called in defeat, tilting his head forward at the neck only to find an impractical resistance.
+Some semblance of reality kicked in. He was in Spartan armor; the suit wasn’t responding to his bodily commands. Odd, and very bad news. He scanned his enclosed helmet periphery, taking stock of the wiring and electronic components keeping his visual acuity and armor functioning at a reasonable threshold.
+The circuitry and internals seemed intact, at least to his limited observation. An examination of the visor twisted Merlin’s curious gapped lips into a grimace at the cusp of uttering a violent curse.
+Water droplets dripped down the visor surface. Amongst dry patches, evaporated water left splotched salt deposits. Some scarring from contacting coarse surfaces appeared to have left blurry scuff marks and the beginning of fractures across the resilient screen.
+His visor had seen better days, and that was an understatement. Merlin summoned his heads-up display and smiled wistfully when familiar blue icons flared to life before his eyes. At least his user interface still functioned. A diagnostic check assured he still retained a good suit seal; another temporary relief.
+“Forget your armor for a minute, look at the sea!” A waypoint winked to life beyond Merlin’s current gaze, stealing his attention before abstract questions could leave his lips.
+He craned his neck, lifting the combined weight of the Heavens and Atlas upon his jugular. Merlin blinked through the strain, refusing to acknowledge his exhausted mind and body for just a moment more. He fought with all his might for a view beyond the bright blue sky and puffy white clouds taunting him overhead.
+He grunted, finally catching sight of a rising sun on the horizon and the eclipsing silhouette of something massive bloating it out. Merlin blinked, stunned at what his eyes were trying to process.
+The familiar, gigantic Forerunner machine protruded from the open sea as agitated white water nipped at its metallic ribs, rising from submerged depths. Light refracted between the floating chunks of alien metal painting a giant space owl’s skeleton against the glaring horizon as typical fluorescent blue lights flickered across its form, powering back up.
+Whatever had happened when Merlin hit the water, the machine had gone under too.
+“What is that thing?” Merlin asked, his eyes glued to the kilometer-tall alien machine.
+“Well, its Forerunner… Hmm, it's talking…confused?” Andra mumbled an incoherent reply.
+“Andra?” Something felt distinctly off about this situation and this conversation.
+Andra’s voice paused for a full second, considering Merlin’s million-thoughts-in-a-single-word-dilemma.
+“I’m not Andra,” she, the voice, responded. Merlin noted something odd in the tone. Besides that, it sounded uncannily like his teammate. The voice sounded high pitched, shaky, but firm. It could have corresponded to a dozen different emotions but the way it seemed; the voice sounded uncertain about something and in a very-unlike-Andra-way.
+He didn’t get a chance to request clarification, the giant Forerunner machine cleared the blue waters and rose into the open air. The air vibrated hazardously around Merlin, even though his armor, something about the pressures and pinpricks on and below his tech suit felt off.
+There was a current in the air, like crawling humidity before a rainstorm, but it touched Merlin’s sealed body too. The sensation came with a quiet rumbling but nothing like the suffocating energy on the space station from before. He winced involuntarily at that fresh, incoherent memory.
+The sky gleamed and sparkled around the giant machine, sunlight refracting through long cast shadows and levitating water particles. Merlin squinted into the giant machine’s shadow, searching for its familiar, toothy grin but quickly realized the wings were fading in and out of the silhouette’s form; it was turning about. The face was already directed elsewhere.
+Completing its rotation, the machine froze, hovering motionless in place. Merlin watched on in silence, unable to break away from the spectacle that managed to steal his breath and his understanding.
+The machine’s body abruptly flashed a bright cyan color, glaring like a second sun within a sun, followed by a shockwave, milliseconds after. Merlin braced instinctually, ready for the wave of disturbed particles to wash over him like on the Wealthian space station.
+It punched him in the gut immediately, forcing one of his supporting arms to buckle. However, his suit wasn’t obeying his motions anymore, his arm twitched free from the sandy ground, causing him to topple back. Compensating with the other arm, Merlin blinked and caught himself in an awkward pin.
+He stared on, watching the Forerunner machine sail higher into the sky, letting off a droning-like screech before adding lateral movement to its ascent and transitioned towards the deep blue far above.
+Going, going, until it was a smudgy gray spec in the distance. It continued to zoom upwards and toward the horizon before finally disappearing into the harsh sun rays. Going, gone.
+“Where’s it headed?” Merlin asked, finding his words again.
+“Don’t know...”
+Merlin continued to strain his eyes against the harsh light, looking for where the Forerunner ship disappeared off to but found nothing. Only the occasional treetop and flocks of migrating, screeching seagulls.
+The female voice that claimed she wasn’t Andra spoke up again, “Wait. Wait! Energy spike!”
+Merlin glanced widely up at the sky, looking for whatever it was that the voice was detecting. Nothing.
+“What-where?”
+The horizon flashed a brilliant cyan color, getting bigger and wider as it raced towards Merlin and the beach. A giant wave of light? It zipped into and passed him all in a second’s span.
+A dull beeping erupted in the background. Merlin’s shield indicator. He glanced up at the holographic shield bar and found it fully depleted, blinking red and angry.
+The female voice spoke again, a shiver in her voice. “That’s… Not good.”
+<center>'''. . .'''</center>
+The giant Forerunner space owl was gone. The once-disturbed wildlife in the forest calmed to a chirping hum. Merlin’s mind was elsewhere, dancing between idle panic and incoherent sea-watching where the golden sun had risen high into the morning sky. He scrolled through a transparent menu upon transparent menu with his eyes and mind, looking for something substantial in his MJOLNIR GEN2 BIOS management system that might fix his failing power armor.
+Hell, Merlin practically wrote half the functions in the suit-software and that wasn’t helping him in the slightest. Energy shielding was offline. Queries to the nuclear fusion powerplant and its fail-safes came back with nothing. Suit functions were reporting systemic hardware failure; he was still practically mobilized in a half-ton suit of titanium. Whatever joke of so-called remaining ‘battery power’ was probably spent.
+“Want my help?” His helmet-synced Smart AI asked with hints of concern, and annoyance. To be fair to her, Merlin had silently skimmed menus for the better part of a few minutes now.
+“I got this; I know my own code.”
+The Smart AI paused for a couple of seconds while Merlin scanned then pushed away another menu.
+“Have you tried turning it on and off again?”
+Oh, now she was just being grumpy.
+“I already said I got this. And no, that’s a stupid idea.”
+“Yeah, I know. I’m an AI.”
+“Then why’d you suggest it?” Merlin asked.
+“No reason,” she curtly responded.
+“You’re bored?”
+“Well, of course! I’m over here sacrificing runtimes so you can go through this pointless exercise.”
+Merlin halted his menu-surfing, right before the diagnostic test for his left hand and gauntlet response systems.
+“Well, what do you want from—"
+“I already ran an administrative backdoor and checked your systems in the second it took you to pass the first menu. Your suit’s toast.”
+The Spartan blinked, his streaming thoughts coming to a halt. “Well…uh… I still need to perform a diagnostic because I don’t know how bad the damage is…”
+“Here,” The Smart AI pushed aside Merlin’s menu settings and slapped a dominating program window over his Heads-Up Display. Situated across a sparse but detailed diagram recreation of his INTERCEPTOR-class armor, Merlin noted the flaring red lines representing failing power lines running up and down his limbs from the suit powerplant. “I highlighted the problems for you – see? You got fluctuating and downright fried circuitry all over the place.”
+“How’d you do that?” Merlin gapped in surprise. “I can’t even—"
+“—get a diagram like this up? I’m an AI, I can write new programs on the fly. And even then, your software package is a mess.”
+Merlin did the smart thing in response. He sputtered in denial.
+The AI deadpanned. “I’m not kidding.”
+Merlin sighed in response, “…you’re not the first AI to tell me that. Look, I’ve been trying to improve, I’ve only spent a year with this armor – a year to learn its ins and outs. And now it’s just about destroyed…”
+“I’m sorry…”
+“It’s okay. But I just need that assurance or that confirmation. That it’s truly unsalvageable. We’re on this planet and on this beach. I’m still not sure how we got here, and that space-owl-thing is gone. We’re lost.”
+Over the audio link, the feminine AI sighed once more, “Yeah, we’re lost. But your armor’s dead Merlin. We got to get you out of it.”
+“Is that really a good idea? Is the air around me even livable? Are there any nasty surprises waiting for me? Once I take this off, I’ll lose my vacuum seal and there won’t be anything between me and whatever’s out there.”
+“The air’s perfectly breathable. It’s exact to human colony preferences. But you’re right, once your armor is off, we won’t be able to put it back on. Even then, it's destroyed. We have to do this.”
+Dread clinched in his deep-set muscles as he shivered in anticipation. Merlin knew all the many reasons he was unusual for a SPARTAN-III but just like any other Spartan, the armor was like a second skin to him.
+Well, not that much. But he had an attachment to it, ever since his requisition request was cleared aboard the UNSC ''Infinity'' and the digital catalog opened for him. He could still remember the short, simple little description blurb selling the armor to him. ‘''Customizable operator settings for the INTERCEPTOR allow everything from neural interface bandwidth to helmet air conditioning to be adjusted.''’
+“You’re attached,” The Smart AI observed.
+“You could say that. Ever since I read about it on a requisition datapad, I knew it was meant for me. Before I completed graduation from SPARTAN-III Delta Company, my company-mates and I were given first-generation MJOLNIR suits from SPARTAN-IIs and IIIs who stopped using them for the newer GEN2. They were hand-me-downs, and I’m grateful having received armor from those that came before – I was given so much more than previous IIIs had. But that armor wasn’t really mine. When I saw INTERCEPTOR, I ''finally'' found an armor that was ''meant for me''.”
+“I’m sorry,” the Smart AI repeated.
+“It’s alright,” Merlin repeated as well, frowning. He was dragging his feet. He knew what he needed to do now. There was no way around this. “Alright, let’s get this armor off.”
+“I can handle the electronics but you’re going to have to do the groundwork. Fair warning, this is going to take a while.”
+“Show me,” Merlin requested. The Smart AI went to work, minimizing the circuitry status menu to allow space for a packet of new pages explaining the complex process of a manual MJOLNIR breakdown process.
+<center>'''. . .'''</center>
+Merlin expanded and contracted his gloved left hand, assessing its reflex as soreness in his wrist tendons ached from misuse. Releasing his right hand from squeezing the left wrist, he clenched and unclenched it experimentally, checking for similar soreness.
+Almost an hour into the armor removal process, the suit’s final power reserves gave out, cutting Merlin off from his visual diagnostics. His body heat and excretion could only do so much to keep the remaining circuits alive. That led to another period of momentary panic but thankfully, the Smart AI in his head managed a fix, allowing the suit to run in a borderline-functional state. That way, at least she could read off the steps to him still.
+“You okay?” The AI asked from Merlin’s helmet speakers as the Spartan watched the muscle-like fibers of his MJOLNIR under suit flex around the hands.
+“It’s still sore, more than when I finally woke up anyway.”
+“Sorry about the chassis screws, you don’t have much in the way of giant screwdrivers right now so magnetic clamps were really the only way to get them off.”
+“Yeah, jamming my finger into those slots and twisting was real fun,” Merlin grumbled as he returned to massaging his sore wrists. “I’m still feeling those pins and needles.”
+Due to the lack of a disassembly system in the vicinity of probably-lightyears, Merlin had to reach around his obstructive armor plating to get to the harness-arresting points to unlock the retention screws manually. Between his lack of power and stiff suit, that was a tedious process of letting blood slip from his arms trying to reach the holes. More than a couple times, he lost all feeling in his limbs and had to use another arm to push it back into an angle where he could get some locomotion back.
+“At least the hard part’s over now.”
+Merlin hummed in affirmation at his AI assistant.
+“So, what’s next? The armor’s off.” Merlin asked, grabbing at the loosely held sections of his chest harness, now two pointless composite-titanium paperweights. Attempting to lift the suit pieces, Merlin struggled under his own power and resorted to dragging them across the wet sand instead.
+It was a strange sensation, the realization of how heavy his armor was, and the realization of how weak he really was. Merlin slotted the chest plate in the beach sand next to his set-aside knee and thigh plates. Glancing over the cracked and burnt exterior, the Spartan youth could only sigh and run his gloved hands over the metal’s flaky, onyx-colored surface.
+Merlin grabbed the remnants of his shredded combat mesh layer, yanking the cloth lining that held most of his field gear and utility pouches. Burndown to individual threads, only the vacuum-sealed pouches seemed salvageable – and only to a degree. Beneath the mesh, the darkened armor surface was a mix of that clearly visible black and sporadic ruins of navy-blue paint, the armor’s original color tone.
+“There isn’t much else to do Spartan. It’s off now, what you do with it is up to you.” The AI supplied, remaining quiet to give the teenager a moment with his home away from home.
+Merlin unhooked three rifle magazine pouches and carelessly lobbed them over his shoulder one at a time. He grabbed a medical pouch and threw that one aside too, far out of reach of the saltwater but still nearby as he heard the pouches ''clink'' against one another and ''thump'' against the sand beneath them.
+“Don’t forget your saddlebag,” The AI reminded, highlighting the large pouch strapped to the back of Merlin’s armor next to his fusion reactor and central exhaust ports.
+He eyed it before pulling it free and tossing it behind him as well. He addressed the AI on the choice of words, “Is it really called that or…? I could have sworn it was called something else.”
+“It’s just a field bag, but it does look like a saddlebag – at least a little bit? I think Andra would call it a saddlebag.” The AI explained uncertainly.
+“I, uh, I’m not sure about that.” Merlin counteracted, not sure what to make of this AI. She had her own full personality, sporadic and mysterious and nothing like what he expected. Merlin had his fair share of encounters with AIs, but they always seemed so disinterested, this was by far the first time one sounded so alive. She was odd; it didn’t help that she still sounded so much like Andra.
+Shaking his head and blinking away the confusion, Merlin noted the slight strained feeling being pressed down on his head. The helmet, the final piece of his gear he had yet to take off for the final time. It was time to let go.
+“Helmet coming off?” The AI asked oddly as if reading his mind. Now that Merlin thought back to it, this AI seemed to be predicting his actions. Could she read his mind? Was that a thing?
+The AI didn’t respond.
+Well, maybe she wasn’t. “Yeah, I’m pulling it off.”
+“Alright, before you set it down, please yank my chip.”
+Merlin gripped the sides of his helmet and twisted it just a degree to the left, there was a quick hiss and the smart-clamp tech loosened, ending Merlin’s environmental seal. A quick breath in and he could take some enjoyment out of breathing fresh, tropical air rather than the staleness of his own stink and sweat. He hefted the damaged INTERCEPTOR helmet off his shoulders and felt an unusual release come off his skull.
+“Wow… this thing’s heavy.”
+“Uh-huh.” The AI responded through the speakers in the helmet, now a distant whisper away from his ears.
+“Right, yanking you now.” Merlin reached out and pulled the silver-colored chip from the back of the helmet and set the helmet down in the wet sand. It wasn’t like he would be wearing it again any time soon.
+Dropping the gumdrop-sized chip into his gloved palm, Merlin examined the small drive with an inquisitive eye. The same features he noted while aboard the Wealthian space station. Silver in color. Rounded edges. A circular, transparent center with a disk-like crystalline layer. A faint blue light rippling in that center disk.
+A soft ping popped from the transparent disk, exploding upward into a holographic beam. It flared for a moment before triangulating into polygons and holographic pixels.
+Four inches tall, no bigger than an action figure. Dark blue tonal hue with accents of darker grays and blacks. A flowing cloak constructed around a clearly feminine physique with black boots and an obscured face under a large dark hood. Like a grim reaper.
+“Uh…hi?” Merlin tried uncertainly.
+The hood glanced up at Merlin, a pair of vaguely gleaming cerulean eyes looked back up at the Spartan.
+“Uh…hi.” The feminine AI repeated, also uncertain, but more with a hint of dry humor.
+“So, you’re Andra’s AI.”
+The AI seemed to mull over the statement before responding. “Well, yes. Yeah, I guess I am.”
+Merlin glanced down at his armor, then up to the ocean, and the sky. He glanced behind him and watched little seagulls wander about the beachside hunting for breakfast, or lunch. He turned back to the AI.
+“Alright, I don’t know what to do and I’m kind of confused on where we are and what’s going on.”
+“You’re lost,” the AI said bluntly.
+“Yeah,” Merlin confirmed, “I have no idea what’s going on right now.”
+“We’re in the same boat there.”
+“Got any ideas?” Merlin asked, raising one eyebrow.
+“A few, but I’m not sure about it. It’s complicated and might not be accurate.”
+Merlin glanced around again, taking in their current environment and predicament.
+“We got time to discuss it?”
+“Yeah, I agree with you there,” The AI surmised, shrugging its virtual shoulders.
+“Where do we start?” Merlin asked, lifting the AI closer to his face to try and get a better look at the face behind the hood.
+The AI retreated, silently bringing her hands up to her hood and tugging it down over her eyes. “Uh, uh… how about introductions?”
-==='''<big><span style="text-shadow: 0 0 15px #00FFFF; color:white;">Chapter 2.1: A New Normal</span></big>'''===
-{{Time Stamp|Non-Standardized Time Stamp // October 31st, 2558|UNSC ''Infinity'', Destination Unknown}}
-<!--[330 words]-->
-Andra remembered feeling a sense of foreboding for those desperately-boring few minutes she’d been stuck inside the cramped metal escape pod that she came to call her ‘time capsule’ because her concept of time proved much longer than the reality.
+“Merlin-D032. Merlin Ljang-Boyd.”
-She was conditioned to be patient, at least, enough so that she could carry out her mission when it was required of her. However, Andra was easily a poster-child for individuals with emotional volatility. Even with all the common breathing exercises in her brain’s back pocket, Andra could flip on a dime when the concerns of those closest to her were what mattered most, especially their safety.
+“You can call me ALT. That’s what Andra called me, but I do have a name, its-its Althea.” The hooded AI stated, moving her cloaked arms behind her in a sheepish manner.
-The female Spartan wished she was claustrophobic at that moment, stuck between two layers of titanium with very little separating her body from the open, hostile vacuum of space. It would have been far more bearable than the emotions wrenching over her body. The anxiety that boiled in Andra’s blood was not from the shrapnel-cut wounds on her shoulder or abdomen, they cooked in fear for Merlin-D032 who had gone uncomfortably silent over the radio.
+“Althea…alright…” Merlin responded, experimenting with the name on his lips. “Alright Althea, tell me what’s going on.”
-Then the alarming tone in the voice of her commanding officer sent Andra into a fearful frenzy. The ONI handler called out to Merlin, “Merlin! The station!”
+“Right…” And so, the AI began explaining what she knew.
-Andra couldn’t contribute anything to the ongoing situation and simply yelled “Get out of there!” in desperation.
+<center>[[Halo:_Lonely_Frontier#Halo:_Lonely_Frontier|''Return to Top'']]</center>
-Merlin's lack of responses continued for a minute. An "Ow" here and a "Shit" there, and then, a pressure wave slammed into Andra's pod, sending it spinning and Andra could only grimace as her insides struggled once more to escape through her open wounds. Even with the assistance of Biofoam clotting inserts and her Spartan tech suit to keep all the blood and other things contained, the sensation of a wide gap in her stomach wasn't going anywhere.
-Andra didn't freak out then, but when Merlin's signal suddenly cut out with a brief of static, that was when she knew something was very wrong.
 {{Clear}}