Changes: Halo: Safewind

Revision as of 15:51, 1 January 2021

This story, Halo: Safewind, written by LoyalHaloFan, was voted as the Best Novel of 2020 in the Thirteenth Annual Halo Fanon Wikia Awards.

Halo: Safewind

This fanfiction article, Halo: Safewind, was written by LoyalHaloFan. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission.

Plot Summary

Dramatis Personae

Point of View

Supporting

Additional POV/Supporting
Yvette Kelsi (POV)
Josef da Costa
Fedor Volkov

Halo: Safewind

Prologue

Yvette Kelsi

Stormfalcon

17 Kilometers outside Toruń

Mazovian Wilderness

April 9, 2538

The call had come in this morning. Yvette and the others were still loading up the back of the Stormfalcon when Jori and Axel drove south down the dirt path with the Spade. She sat on a crate of freeze-dried desiderfruit, listening to the whistling of the trees around her and feeling the cool morning air on her face.

Not yet fully awake, she daydreamed as Mazovia’s sun rose over the valley, illuminating it with a violet-orange hue. Mazovia was a beautiful world, and it had been so long since she felt real, solid ground on her feet. They had been running for weeks. The Stormfalcon had passed through six different colonies before landing on Mazovia. All of them were burnt to a crisp, their surface cracked and glowing. No communications of any kind could be detected, it felt like the entire universe had died.

She remembered being in the control cab of the ship when they arrived at Cyrus VII. The destruction was unfathomable. Yvette had witnessed her fair share of Covies before she deserted, but she’d never seen they’re destructive capability from above until then. The Stormfalcon had to wade through a wall of debris and ships as it approached the planet. A jungle of twisted wrecks and melted metal now served as a graveyard for thousands of sailors and civilians. When they finally cleared the debris, the extent of the colony’s destruction could now be seen in greater detail.

She remembered the audible gasp Beta made when the ship’s visual sensors focused on the now desolate ruins of a Cyrusian city. A glyph was carved into what used to be the city, and Eve could not tell whether it was a mark of warning, or a mark of triumph.

Beta was a stowaway, sneaking aboard the ship when they left Mamore. Yvette found her huddled in a ventilation shaft, dirty and smelling of dried mud and urine. She took her to the ship’s showers when the rest of the crew was asleep and afterward she cooked her a meal in the galley. When she felt safe and comfortable, she told her story.

Her name was Elżbieta Pryce, a native of Mamore who wanted to escape the anarchy that had engulfed the world for as long as anyone could remember. She was only fourteen years old, but the stories she told sounded like she’d lived an entire lifetime. When she was done eating, Yvette took her to her bed and let her sleep. The next day, she introduced Beta to the rest of the crew and explained her situation.

Most of the crew accepted her and introduced themselves in turn. But not all were so receptive. Yvette noticed the looks some of them made at her. Depraved looks on their faces, most of them hid it quickly when she noticed, all except Axel. After that, Yvette made sure to keep her safe and watch over her, and for a time things were good. But at Cyrus VII, Beta’s smile that she had gotten used to seeing was no more. It left her shaken, and when she tried to console her, she ran away to the crew quarters. But for Yvette, the shock had already worn off after seeing so many other worlds burned away. Desensitized is such a terrible word. She couldn’t understand how anyone could become desensitized by such mindless slaughter.

Yvette shook her head wildly to rid her of those thoughts. That’s when she finally heard Rhys calling her name.

“Eve, what the hell are you doing? I told you to move the shipments fifteen minutes ago.”

“Sorry. On it now.” She said, hopping off the crate. She dusted off her pants as Rhys walked up to her.

“Make sure they’re kept in cold storage. I don’t want them to get spoiled before we reach Terra Nova.” Rhys lifted the top of a crate to check the inside. She could see the desiderfruit in its clear plastic packaging. Her mouth watered a tiny bit. She hadn’t eaten at all this morning.

“This is a lot of fruit for a ship like ours.” She leaned backwards and gestured at the long row of desiderfruit crates behind her. “It’s taking up a lot of cargo space already. Who’s buying?”

Rhys closed the crate he was inspecting and his eyes shot a perturbed glance at her. She could see he was bothered by the question, and tried to mask it by rubbing the freshly shaven stubble on his face. “You know those worlds we passed by on the way here?” he said, licking the inside of his cheek. “Mazovia is the only colony that grows these, and this colony doesn’t have much time left. You’d be surprised to see the prices these things fetch on the market these days now that the Apocalypse is here.”

Eve’s voice lowered when she saw Beta playing in the field next to the Stormfalcon. “You really think they’re coming here?”

“Every world we passed through after picking you up was dead and smoking. Everyone’s on edge here. The cities are emptying by the day. They had some kind of mass panic a few years back—drove off half the population out towards Earth or something like that. This world is finished.”

Yvette’s eyes dropped, her left foot tapped the ground rapidly, a habit she developed as a child when she was anxious. “So nowhere’s safe.” She said half-heartedly, unaware that Rhys had heard her.

“Earth is safe. That’s our destination, selling these crates will get us there.”

“I can’t go to Earth. I’m. . . a deserter. If I set foot on Earth they’ll throw me in prison for the rest of my life.” She said nervously, her fingers were trembling.

Rhys laughed. “I’m sure the Oonksies have more pressing concerns right now than to be looking for someone who’s likely already been marked as dead or missing. Vodin is a pile of rubble by now. If you don’t wanna come to Earth with us, we’ll leave you on Terra Nova.”

Eve thought about it for a second, and nodded her head. “That might be a good idea. I’ll take Beta with me when we arrive on Nova. Earthlife won’t suit her.”

Rhy looked over his shoulder at the girl playing in the dirt. “Something’s not quite right about her. She’s almost. . . feral.”

That word provoked her and irritation flared in her eyes. “Feral? She’s just scared, Rhys.”

“Maybe. But you’ve never heard of what it’s like to be a child of Mamore, have you?” He leaned against the crates with his elbow.

“I can’t say I have.”

Rhys grunted and stood away from the crates. “Perhaps another time then. Get these crates on the ship before the cryo-freeze starts to wear off. C’mon, I’ll help.”

Yvette and Rhys spent the next half hour loading the crates of desiderfruit up the cargo ramp of the Stormfalcon. The crates weren’t too difficult to move thanks to Jori’s stolen exo-skeletons. They were halfway done with the cargo when her battery of her exo-suit failed without warning. The suit stopped abruptly when she was on the ramp, and her momentum nearly shattered one of her legs. Eve fell backward from the ramp and landed on the dirt. She gritted her teeth as the suit was still exerting a painful strain on her leg, but Rhys jumped off the ramp after her and helped take off the suit.

Relief rushed over her as the latches loosened and she was released from the suit’s binds.

“Thank you.” she said, still breathing heavily. She sat up and rubbed her calf to ease the throbbing.

Rhys smiled and let out his hand to help her up. Rhys was a strong contrast to his brother Axel. He was always so kind and helpful to her, though she chalked it up to him being the leader of the group. That was, until she caught him staring that one time. His face had a sweet and innocent look, but he never took any steps further. He might’ve been nervous, but that didn’t stop her from teasing him about it whenever she could.

Eve was about to take his hand when the sound of an overworked engine revved off in the distance along the dirt road.

She stood up and saw the Axel and Jori in the Spade driving up the dirt road in some haste. The truck was covered in dirt and dotted with blemishes of soot.

Yvette rested at the side of the ramp as Rhys walked over to meet them. The Spade was moving fast, kicking up a wave of dirt and dust behind it as it raced toward them. The Spade screeched as Axel slammed his foot on the brake when they arrived inside the camp. They nearly hit Rhys until Axel turned away at the last second.

The Spade was empty and damaged with burn marks all over it. Axel lept from the driver’s seat and was in hysterics. Rhys tried to calm him down but his mouth closed when he looked over at Jori.

He was slouched over in the passenger seat, plasma burns covered his arms and chest. His vest was torn and burnt, with blood soaked through it.

Beta walked over to Eve to see what was happening. She tugged at her armed.

“What’s going on?” she asked. Her voice was elevated with fear.

Eve shook her head and knelt down to face her. “It’s nothing. Wait for me on the ship.” She put a hand on Beta’s shoulder when she tried to protest. “Go.” she said sternly.

Beta rushed up the cargo ramp without another word. By then, Graham and Jessika were pulling an unconscious Jori out of his seat. Yvette walked over to the Spade.

“We need to leave. Now!” Axel was yelling at his older brother, his eyes were bloodshot and full of fear. He was pacing back and forth with his hands on his head.

Rhys grabbed onto him by the shoulders to stop him.

“We’re not leaving until you calm the hell down and tell us what happened!” Rhys was shouting now, and drawing the attention of the rest of the crew.

Axel looked to be calming down, but he kept glancing down the dirt road. As if he was expecting something to come after him. “We have to leave.” He was pleading now.

“What happened?” Rhys said slowly.

The forest around them had grown eerily silent. Off in the distance, a large flock of birds flew off to the north in a hurry.

“The city’s gone. They blew out the highway we was on and started massacring everyone. The city was on fire. Jori. . .” Axel ran his hand through his blond hair. “Everything’s gone.”

She saw Rhys pretend to not understand what Axel was saying. “Who’s ‘they’? Axel. . . who’s they?”

Axel’s response was interrupted when a pair of military jets flew overhead to the south. Their engines screamed through the skies, heading towards something over the horizon.

And then it arrived.

Breaking through the clouds, a single massive ship appeared in the sky. It had a sleak, grayish, almost organic look to it. Eve recognized the teardrop shape. Violet dots of light lined the hull of the ship. They continued to build up along the ship, until finally converging and shooting out dozens of violet rods of plasma at the fighter jets. One of them exploded, leaving only smoke and balls of fire in their place while the other tried to evade the fire coming at it. It spun and dashed through the air in every direction as it tried to escape but a lucky shot struck it on its wing, and sent it twirling out of the sky into the valley. She never heard the explosion, but she saw the pillar of black smoke rise high into the clouds.

With them out of the way, tiny dark specks began to shoot out from both sides of the ship. Like a swarm of bees, they circled around each other before setting off altogether toward somewhere. It was only when the specks grew larger that Eve noticed the swarm was coming to them.

“We have to go!” she screamed. The crew had been frozen in place when they saw the Covenant ship, but her words had jolted them back into reality.

Together they raced up the ramp, leaving behind the Spade, the remaining desiderfruit crates and other cargo. Eve followed Rhys into the cabin of the ship, watching him ignite the ship’s engines and preparing for takeoff.

She looked out the window of the cabin and could now make out what the swarm was. They were Banshees, ground attack aircraft used by the Covenant. They would overrun them in minutes if they didn’t leave soon.

The engines of the Stormfalcon roared to life and she felt it lifting from the ground. It had no weapons, no defense of any kind. But it did have speed.

The Stormfalcon was an old ship, officially they were marketed as the Brzina-class, a cheap line of affordable freighters, allowing the average civilian to explore the stars on their own. Unofficially, it was a blockade runner designed, built and owned by those sympathetic to insurrectionist causes. They were responsible for bringing supplies, goods, and weapons that kept insurgencies afloat all across the Outer Colonies. Earth eventually figured out what was going on and had the company shut down, it’s assets confiscated, and most of the ships were impounded by the Navy. Today, they’re nothing more than antiques, but they can still fetch a hefty price with a willing buyer.

Eve felt the Stormfalcon lift slowly from the ground. She leaned as the ship angled upward in preparation to escape the planet. It rose high above the treeline and then it began to shake violently as the engines kicked into full gear.

Rhys turned back to her and waved her away. “Get to the center of the ship, it’ll be safest there.” He faced the control console and input commands for the flight plan to escape Mazovia’s atmosphere and continued, “Wait by the jettison-paks if anything goes wrong. Grab Beta too. If I give the warning, you and her jettison yourself from this ship to someplace safe, then get as far away from civilization as possible!”

Eve rocked back in forth, trying to keep her balance as the ship rose higher and higher into the sky. When she opened her mouth to speak, Rhys interrupted her.

He was yelling now, but his eyes were sad. “Just do what I said, Eve! Please.”

Perplexed, Yvette stood for a second in protest, but then swallowed her pride and ran out of the cabin.

The rest of the crew were either running around the ship, cowering in their rooms, or arguing with each other. She ran through the ship’s sections, first the maintenance room, then the kitchen and finally to the crew quarters.

Eve reached her room and tried to open it. The door’s lock flashed red, and indicated that it was occupied.

“Beta!” Eve knocked on the door. “Beta? Are you in there? Open the door, honey. It’s me.”

Eve stood waiting for some time, and when she began to think that nobody would open the door, she heard the door’s lock unlatch.

The door slid open and Beta stepped forth. She stood in the doorway and looked up at Eve. Tears streamed down her face and her eyes were engulfed in fear. She had seen that kind of fear before on Vodin. Her own.

Yvette kneeled down toward her. “Hey you.” She tried saying without any hint of anxiety.

“Hi.” Beta trembled.

“Why did you lock the door, honey? Give me the key.” Eve said softly when she saw it in her hand. “Come on, it’s okay.” She laid out a hand.

Betas lifted her arm and dropped the key into Eve’s palm. The moment she took the key, Beta jumped into Eve’s arms, crying.

“Everyone was running around so scared, then Axel started chasing me and I ran to the room, and then he started banging on the door when I wouldn’t let him in, and then—”

“Hey, hey, hey. . . It’s okay Lizzy. Hey now.” Eve squeezed her hard in an embrace. The child cried into her chest soaking her shirt. Eve rubbed Beta’s back until she began to calm down.

When she stopped crying Eve released her embrace and wiped away any remaining tears from Beta’s eyes. “Hey, I need you to look at me.” Eve said while concealing her worry. Beta’s eyes were so red from crying when she looked at her. Her mouth still trembled a bit, but she was listening.

“I need you to grab your things, okay?” Eve rubbed her shoulder to keep her calm. “We’re going on a trip together. It’ll be real quick.”

“Okay. . .” Beta sniffled.

Eve stood in the doorway as Beta grabbed her things. The ship shook violently again, presumably from the Banshees that had caught up by now. The ship turned sharply as it tried to evade the Covenant fighters. Eve had to help Beta pack when the evasive maneuvers almost made her cry again.

Eve only took a small amount of things from her room, some of it was food and a sidearm she stole from the ship’s armory after a previous run-in with Axel many months back. Beta carried her bag on her back, full of old drawings, toys, and Mr. Slim, a stuffed animal Eve gave her to help against the nightmares.

Eve and Beta walked briskly down the crew quarters and passed kitchens to the cargo bay. When they stood on the scaffolding on the cargo bay, she saw the jettison-paks in their pods, ready to shoot out from the Stormfalcon to safety. Nobody else was in the cargo bay from where she could see.

They were halfway down the staircase when the Stormfalcon rocked again as it was hit by plasma fire from the pursuing Banshees. Beta whimpered as the sounds and motions of the ship frightened her. Eve pushed her along, reminding her of their goal.

They reached the bottom of the cargo bay and ran toward the jettison-paks in front of them.

But just as they were about to reach the paks, Axel stood from behind stacked crates of desiderfruit and appeared before them. “There you are.” He said, eyeing Beta.

“Axel.” Eve said. His head was bleeding from a wound where a chunk of hair used to be.

“Eve.” Axel turned his eyes to her this time. His eyes had been replaced by something sadistic. Something primal. “I’d hoped to meet you here. I’m guessing my brother told you about these jettison-paks.” He twirled a knife in his hand as he revealed his arms from behind his back. Both of his hands were bloody, and it wasn’t his.

“Axel. . . please, there’s no time. We have to get off the ship if we’re going to survive.” Eve tried to bargain with him with items from her bag. But to no avail.

“Leave?” Axel laughed. “It’s the end of the world, sister. I’m just starting to have fun.” He licked the blade with a sadistic smile.

Eve reached for her pistol in the bag and pulled it out. She aimed it at Axel’s center mass.

“Whoa, now.” Axel backed away when he saw the handgun. “Where’d you get that from, sweetie?” He pointed the tip of the blade at her.

“Back off.” Eve said, flicking the safety off. In the corner of her eye, Beta was crying silently.

Axel’s smile disappeared and he raised his arms to yield to her. “Now that’s not very lady-life.” He remarked. “You’re scaring the girl.”

Eve looked down at Beta for no longer than a second before she caught Axel charging toward her with the knife.

She fired the gun once into his abdomen but he kept coming. “Stay back!” she yelled, and fired again.

The gun jammed.

Before Axel could reach her, a massive hole was torn into the side of the ship. Green plasma and black smoke appeared for a brief moment before the ship depressurized.

Axel lost his footing and was thrown backward, sucked out of the ship and into the heavens. Yvette grabbed onto a beam and instinctively reached for Beta. She missed. Beta was almost sucked out of the ship too, but Eve caught her arm at the last second. Eve held tightly onto her arm, but she couldn’t pull her in.

“Beta! Don’t let go!” Eve screamed for help but nobody came.

She felt like her shoulder was about to be dislocated with Beta exerting too much of a strain on her arm.

To her left, the straps that held the crates of desiderfruit snapped. The depressurization flung the crates toward the gaping hole that gutted the Stormfalcon, flinging the tops of the crates open and spilling its contents for all to see.

But the contents weren’t desiderfruit.

Bags upon bags of Feride flew out from the crates. A mini-tornado formed with a mix of the drug and the fruit that were concealing the illegal and deadly substance. She couldn’t believe it. Rhys. Jori. Axel. They were all liars. How could she have been so stupid?

Her focus returned to Beta, who was still clinging for her life. Sweat began to build up on their hands, and their grip became slippery.

“Beta!” Eve yelled out again.

All of the color from Beta’s face had been flushed away leaving on her pearly white fear, her eyes never left her own. “Eve! I’m slipping!” Beta was crying out for help but there was nothing Eve could do.

Eve spotted another beam that Beta could grab onto and planned to throw her over to it. She waited for another crate of the drugs to fly past them before telling Beta the plan.

“Beta! Beta, look at me, yes, that’s it. I’m going to throw you over to that beam, okay?” Beta nodded. “When I throw you, you need to grab it with all your strength, okay?

“Okay. . .” Beta said weakly.

When Eve motioned to toss her, the Stormfalcon took another hit from a fuel rod cannon, and Eve lost her grip.

Beta screamed when she slipped. They were barely holding on by interlocking their hands together. But the sweat had built up too much, and Eve’s fingers loosened. Beta felt the end was near.

“Mom. . . please!” Beta said one last time until her body was forcefully flung away and out through the hole of the Stormfalcon.

A horrible, maddening scream overtook Eve as she lost Beta forever. She was gone in an instant. Eve’s arm was still outstretched, grabbing for a person that was no longer there.

Her body was frozen in place, the depressurization seemed to have no effect on her. She stared at the hole, hopeless.

“Mom.” Eve said to her defeated self, trying to make sense of what she had heard.

To her right, another set of straps were broken, sending out a fury of more crates. When she looked at the chaos, a crate was flying directly toward her. Everything went black when a crate smacked her hard across the head.

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Chapter One

Éimhear

A Second Chance

Kampus Scientifica

City of Toruń, Mazovia

April 9, 2538

Emilia sat alone in the Café de la Paix, taking a sip of her Meridian spiced tea while she waited. Rain trickled down the window next to her as she sat in the booth. Night had fallen by now, and she’d been waiting for so long that she started to bounce her leg with worry that he wasn’t coming.

Her waiter came around to see her again, holding a tray of chilled berries and cream. “Plus de crème, madame?” The waiter asked with a strong, northern Picardie accent. He laid the tray on the table and held the bowl of cream in his hands. His attitude and voice were very friendly, and it helped lessen her dismay.

“Oui, s’il vous plaît.” she replied. Emilia was still looking out of the window with her palm on her face hoping to see him. She bit at her fingers nervously in anticipation.

The waiter took three spoonfuls of the cream and topped them on her tea. He also left her with the bowl of berries. A mix of Earth and off-world berries turned the bowl into a beautiful mosaic of natural and exotic colors.

“Merci.” Emilia thanked him.

Emilia waited another hour for him. She barely touched the berries and the cream had melted and was pouring over the sides of her cup. Emilia grabbed a set of napkins and hastily cleaned up the mess she had made. Saddened, Emilia sighed and twirled the spoon around in her cup of tea.

The rain became more intense and she considered returning home. She was ready to grab her bag and leave the cafe until she heard the door open.

It was Melvin. His jacket was soaked from the rain. Droplets of water dripped from his jacket as he looked around for Emilia.

When he saw Emilia, his face lit up and a huge smile stretched from ear to ear. He began walking toward her until one of the waiters stopped him and politely asked him to remove his jacket.

Melvin nodded and complied with the request and hung it on a rack by the door.

“Melvin!” Emilia lept from her seat and they met halfway. They embraced each other and topped it off with a kiss. She led him back to her booth and they sat across from each other.

“I’m sorry, Millie. I should’ve called.” he apologized.

“I worried that you weren’t coming. I was afraid something had happened.” Emilia fretted.

Melvin let out a sorrowful half-smile and took her hand in his. Emilia could see he was still dressed in his work clothes.

“There was, or at least I think there is a breakthrough in my research.” He sounded so passionate. “I lost track of time, and when I finally looked at the time I raced here as fast as I could.”

Melvin never lied to her, he never did anything wrong. He was perfect in every way. “I believe you.” she smiled.

“So, what is this breakthrough, exactly?” she continued.

Melvin’s eyes looked so happy from her question. He always loved talking about his work with her. He looked around his surroundings and said, “I think I found a way to extend the lifespans of artificial life. They’ve been limited to seven years for so long. It’s cruel to let AIs live that short, right? It’s no different than pulling the plug on a child. But now, I think I have something. Something real. I just need time. And money. The Institute is willing to foot the bill for me. I just need to show them my findings next month.”

Emilia was a gardener. Coming from a family of farmers hailing from Gers in southern France. She never truly understood his line of work. But it wasn’t his profession that she fell in love with.

“That’s. . . great, honey.” Emilia sputtered.

Despite her confusion, she truly was happy for him. But this past year had been very difficult for them. He lost his job at university, and she noticed he was becoming ever so slightly more obsessed with his theories. She was proud of him but also worried for his health.

Melvin started to fidget in his seat, playing with something hidden in his pocket.

“But I didn’t ask you here to bore you about my job.” he beamed. “You remember this place, right?”

“Of course,” she looked around. “It’s our anniversary spot.”

“Indeed it is,” he said cheerfully. “But I want those memories to have something a little more.”

Melvin jumped up from his seat and went down on one knee.

“Melvin. . .” Emilia gasped.

“I—I know you said you wanted to wait. But I just couldn’t wait any longer. With everything that happened this past year has been rough, it only strengthened my certainty that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Melvin expressed.

“OH, ISN’T HE SWEET?” said a disembodied voice behind her.

“Emilia Charline Sault. . . will you DIE FOR ME?” The Voice had possessed Melvin.

“What?” she shuddered.

“WILL YOU, EMILIA?” the Voice said again. It was hostile and acidic. A sweeping coldness rushed over her and goosebumps raised on her arms.

“Who are you? What have you done to Melvin?” she demanded.

Melvin’s eyes were like a burning violet color. His stare felt like it was piercing straight into her soul.

The thing that used to be Melvin gave a devilish grin and then dissolved into nothing. Emilia shrieked in horror, hoping that it was just a bad dream. But it kept going.

All around her the cafe began to dissolve. Everyone inside it had stopped moving, their faces all looking at her with the same terrifying violet eyes. Some of the customers had their necks twisted and tangled in gruesome ways just so they could all stare at her.

The walls, tables, and chairs began to soften and droop slowly down like a syrupy liquid. The patrons, still motionless, also did the same. Melting together into horrifying, unrecognizable black puddles.

The entire world melted, leaving nothing but an endless black void. Emilia called out for help only to be greeted with silence in response. Thinking that it was just a fever dream, she walked aimlessly through the void, exploring it and hoping that the end was somewhere near.

She walked for days in the darkness. She had begun to lose hope until she heard the sounds of an erratic conversation creeping up behind her.

“We’re losing her!” one of the voices said.

“The procedure isn’t working. Her brain is rejecting the transfer!” another said.

“Keep working!” a third said. “This is my last chance. I can’t lose her.” The voice sounded vaguely like Melvin.

Emilia called out to him, pleading for him to come and save her. But he never heard her.

“The facility is under lockdown, Melvin. If we stay here much longer the Covenant will breach this place and we’ll all be turned into paste!” the second voice warned.

“I’m not leaving,” Melvin said, anger growing in his voice.

“The Cole Protocol has been enacted, if we don’t shut down the project now it won’t be the Covenant who we’ll need to worry about!” the man said again.

Emilia heard the sounds of a struggle and yelling. “I’m not leaving!” Melvin snapped. Gunshots rang out in front of her. Two brief, blinding lights flashed.

“Shit!” the first voice squealed, followed by footsteps that sounded like running.

Another two gunshots rang out, followed by the blinding flashes. The hiss of a door closing and locking echoed around her.

“I won’t lose you, Millie.” said a lamenting Melvin. “I made a promise.”

“Melvin!” Emilia screamed as loud as she could. It was futile.

“HE BROKE HIS PROMISE.” the Voice hissed behind her.

Emilia turned to face the Voice, but there was nothing there.

“HE LET YOU DIE,” The Voice was pressed against her ear.

“That’s not true,” Emilia argued.

“LEFT YOU AS NOTHING BUT A SHELL,” it said in the other ear.

“Please, stop,” Emilia begged.

Emilia covered her face with her hands, and she began to weep. She fell to the ground, weak and unable to comprehend why any of this was happening. But between her fingers, she saw a figure made of smoke begin to take form.

The smoke that formed in front of her was a mix of black and gray and took the shape of an egg. It repeatedly ballooned and contracted on itself from a center point. The ovate smoke opened, and out of it emerged a woman.

Her hair was short and as black as night. She wore heavy black eyeshadow that highlighted her deep violet eyes. Her lips were as black as the eye shadow and glittered like stars. She was dressed all in black, wearing something akin to a funeral gown. It fully covered her arms and extended all the way down to her knees.

She looked like she was in mourning.

“And yet you still love him.” the Woman said. Strangely, her voice was a mix of resentment and sadness.

Emilia dropped her hands from her face and looked up at the woman. The aura of smoke followed her as she walked toward her.

“Who are you?” Emilia mumbled. Her face had become a mess of tears and eyeliner.

The Woman said nothing, instead, she kneeled down in front of her and wiped away her tears. She grabbed Emilia’s chin and gently raised her so their eyes were meeting each other. When Emilia looked into those despairing violet eyes, she saw nothing that could have been human. The Woman caressed and pushed Emilia’s hair away from her face and showed a threatening, dominating smile.

“I’m you.”

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Chapter Two

Noah Sówka

Homeward Bound

Observation Deck, UNSC Atacama

Nearing Mazovian Orbit

April 10, 2538

“Third time’s a charm.” Noah Sówka said with the cadence of an old nursery rhyme from his childhood.

He flicked his thumb at the lighter impatiently. When it wouldn’t light, he shook it back and forth, hoping that whatever fluid was left in it would give him enough flame for one last cigarette. Noah stood alone in the observation dome of the UNSC Atacama. He’d been awake for seventeen hours now, watching in sleepless silence as the Sahara-class prowler emerged outward from a portal in slipspace and entered the Eta Leporis system. The walls of the ship started humming as its systems came online and the crew awakened. The lights of the observation dome brightened as life returned to the Atacama.

Noah sighed. This wasn’t the reunion he had expected. His home. His life. All began here, in this tiny corner of the galaxy. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d react once he saw what was left of Mazovia, if there was anything left at all.

“Right then, fourth time’s a charm,” Noah said, gliding his thumb against the sparkwheel of the lighter. flick. flick. A single, quick spark flared and died out. That annoyed him greatly. flick. Noah sighed again angrily. “Fine.” He gave up and huffed out his frustration.

It was only a matter of time anyway, he guessed. It was an old lighter. Given to him when his father passed twenty-five years ago. Noah closed the lighter and looked at the inscription engraved into it.

Written in Nov Polćsi: “If caught by flames, dance with them; so that your light never fades.” The family motto. Father always had a taste for the dramatic and theatrical. And Noah loved him for that.

Staring out into the endless void of space, he wondered how Bartosz and Monika were doing. He hadn’t spoken to them for so long. What would he tell them once he saw their home? How would they react to their old home being reduced to a smoldering ruin? So many memories. . . gone.

Bartosz, the oldest of the trio, was grizzled and sour when he last saw him. A man of sixty-seven now, tormented by his—our generation’s war. Monika would’ve had her sixtieth birthday nine days ago. She’d be an old woman by now, untouched by the stain of excessively long travel times and cryonics. He smiled thoughtfully at the memories he still had of them.

“Happy birthday, Monnie,” he said in a low voice, still staring out into the endless expanse of stars and the creeping darkness that surrounds them.

A somber feeling came over him as he saw his reflection from the observation window. While his siblings were left at the mercy of Father Time, he still looked as young as his days in special forces, albeit with a few more not-so-handsome wrinkles. He would never get to grow old with his siblings.

Punishment for being ONI’s errand boy, he supposed.

Noah pocketed the lighter in his coat. He was still alone in the observation deck some more after that, and soon he noticed the distant voices echoing off the metal walls of the ship as the Atacama’s crew awakened and hurried to their posts.

He never liked being on the Atacama. He never liked the missions he was sent on behalf of cleaning ONI’s decades-old messes. And now it was his own home that he was being sent to. Maybe it was destined. All those sins he had committed in his early life were leading him back home. Back to where it all began so that Fate can collect their debt and bring an end to this immoral life of his.

A bad end awaited a bad man. If it’s to be, then so be it.

Impulsively, he pulled the lighter back out of his pocket and opened it.

“Fifth time’s a charm.” He teased himself.

Just as he was gliding his thumb against the sparkwheel for another futile attempt, the door to the observation deck hissed open, and the sound of footsteps tip-tapped into the room as a woman walked inside.

Noah stopped fiddling with the lighter and turned his head partway. Then he saw her face reflecting off the window.

“Hello, Noah.” Ashley Coeman’s voice was still as lovely as he remembered.

He turned around and faced her. Her auburn hair was always kept at a shoulder’s length, just how she liked it. And her eyes, like sapphires, gleamed in the presence of the room’s lights. She was wearing a black field uniform with the emblem of the Special Investigations Division embroidered on her arm. The uniform accentuated her slender figure.

“Ashley,” he sputtered. “You look. . .” It had been so long since he’d seen her.

“It’s good to see you.” Her smile was sweet as always.

“. . .beautiful.” he finished saying.

“Here. Let me help you with that.” Ashley walked forward, holding a peacoat lighter in her hand and lit it. He spotted the pearl-colored United Nations eagle embedded into the side of the lighter. She held it under the cigarette that was still hanging in Noah’s mouth until it started crackling.

He took a puff of the cigarette and then held it between his fingers. He blew the smoke out off to his side as to not blow it toward her.

“You smoke now?” he asked, taking a few more puffs.

“Me? Oh, no. No. Not at all.” she shook her head with a soft chuckle.

Noah took another puff. “Then how’d you know I was?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I think I know you more than most, Mr. Sówka. Way more,” she teased him, playfully crossing her arms.

Noah smiled at her fondly. He couldn’t take her eyes off her. To him, she was an angel of the purest kind, but her being here made him nervous. The universe didn’t make any sense anymore, most of all because of the way things had been going since the Covenant appeared. The thought turned his smile to a frown, but Ashley continued.

“It’s the Captain’s,” she admitted, “I asked him for it when Stratus told me where you were. I took a guess, and I guessed right.” she finished with a confident smirk.

“So you were spying on me,” he ascertained.

She placed a hand on her chest, “Spying? Me? You offend me so, Mr. Sówka.” Ashley feigned.

“That’s something a spook would say.” Noah jested. The cigarette has lost its appeal by now. Growing impatient with the distraction, he disposed of the cigarette by putting it out in an ashtray next to him.

“Spooks are buried in white sepulchers.” she retorted with a suddenly serious look.

Noah threw his head back with a howled laugh. “Can’t deny that,” he said.

They both shared a good laugh and embraced each other.

“It’s good to see you.” Noah began.

“It’s good to see you too,” she said softly.

Noah watched her smile disappear. She must have seen the sadness in his eyes. She could always see through him, it was impossible to hide from her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, bringing an end to the embrace.

He wanted to choose his words carefully.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“The same as you. Why?”

“Nobody told me you were aboard,” he said with a slight weariness.

“Should they?” she frowned.

“Two years, Ash. It’s been two years.”

He wasn’t anticipating how she’d respond to that. His face expressed a sort of sadness and regret, and her eyes spoke of her own regret as well. But it said something different, something more painful.

“Yes, it has. Two years now. But there was an incident, it was important. That’s why we’re standing here today.”

“More important than us?” he snapped. “You left. I thought this mess was dealt with and over.” He wasn’t sure why he was acting like this. Maybe it was his sleeplessness. Or maybe it was the real him, in all its terrible and hurtful glory.

“As long as ONI still stands, it will never be over. They own us, Noah. They always have. They always will. We can never escape it.”

She was right. The survivors of HEMLOCK were used to tie up loose ends for Project ORION. Once those loose ends were tied up, they called him and her to deal with the survivors. He always wondered what would happen once all the ends were tied and all that remained was him and Ashley. He hoped that it was quick.

“We don’t have to keep doing this.” he raised his arms and gestured to the room. “Once this is over, come with me. We can build a little cabin on a hill somewhere like we always wanted to. A simple, peaceful life far away from all this war and chaos and death. Earth. ONI. Leave it all to die. Run away with me and never look back.”

Something in his words provoked anger from her, her face flared as red as her hair.

“We all have to answer to somebody, Noah. You can’t run from this. Our future depends on it.” Ashley scowled.

Noah lowered his eyes, sighed, and nodded reluctantly. As badly as he wanted to deny it, there was no such thing as running away from Naval Intelligence.

Ashley’s scowl faded away. “You have bags under your eyes,” she said, trying to change the subject. She walked up to him less than arm’s length away. Slowly, she caressed his face and golden beard. “How long have you been awake?”

He looked up at her face. He so badly wished to kiss her, to run away with her, to live with her in their little paradise until they grew old.

Noah looked down at his miniature wrist-mounted TACPAD, “Eighteen hours now, I think.” he confessed. His eyes felt heavy when he said that.

“Eighteen—Jesus, did the tube malfunction? Are you okay?” There was a loving concern in her voice.

“No, no, everything’s fine. It was a request I made personally for Stratus to wake me up early after we left Anchor 9.” he rubbed his beard, thinking. “It was. . . something I had to do. For myself.”

“Why?” she tilted her head. Her face had that worried look on it.

Noah gently broke from her embrace and turned around to face the void. He had hoped that something out there held the answers he was looking for. It was the reason why he came here in the first place. But when he stared out into that starry night, the only thing that stared back was his own dread. Its face took the shape of an old, dying man. With hair that was white and long like his own, with eyes as dark and infinitely deep as black holes. His face had no expression but for a single, melancholic frown. It was himself. A demon of his own making, reminding him of what he really was underneath his skin.

It scared him more than anything. More than the Covenant. More than what had become of his home. More than the thought of losing her. It marked the prelude to his end.

“Noah,” Ashley’s voice broke him from his trance. He turned to face her again, still without an answer. “What was it that you needed to do?” She stood confused.

Noah turned to his right and sat on a couch that faced parallel to the other side of the observation dome. Ashley followed him and sat next to him, planting a single hand gently on his leg. She was leaning forward, waiting for him to say something.

“I guess. . .” he began, still searching for the words. “. . .This is my home. Everything I am today is because of it. Something has led me back to this place. And I suppose. . . back to you.”

“And you feel afraid?”

“Afraid of what I’ve become since then. Afraid of what I’ll see. Afraid of how this will end. What does it all mean? Why are we here?” He looked into her eyes, wondering what she was thinking.

“We have to take the chance that somewhere down there a difference can be made. Something that is the or one of many keys that could help us better understand how to win this war. We need something to give us hope, something to restore our faith in a brighter future.”

Ashley placed her hands on his. A glint in her eyes told him that she really believed her own words. He wished he felt the same.

“Faith. What is faith in days like these?” Noah shook his head with a scowl. “I don’t mean some kind of bi-annual Sunday service or pray by your bedside faith. I mean real, tangible Faith to give us the strength to prevail. Faith hasn’t helped us in many, many centuries, Ash. We’ve lost our way, and that is what I’m truly afraid of. If I’ve lost my faith, I fear I’ll lose you next.”

She raised a weak, sad smile and hugged him. But her mind had gone somewhere else, and she looked deep into his eyes.

Ashley hesitated for a moment as if there was a lump in her throat. “There is more to the universe than you know out there that’s more important than faith or me. And that’s worth fighting for. There’s a whole galaxy waiting out there waiting for us to help them, your family among them. And when the time comes, I promise you will be reunited with them.”

Ashley had always been difficult to read, and he felt that there was something more to what she was saying. She looked to be on the verge of tears, but she was always strong. Her lips seemed to quiver, full of words that wanted to escape and tell him something but she fought them back. She was afraid too.

“Well, Monnie always did want to meet you.” Noah jested, hoping to lighten the mood.

It certainly helped, and a soft chuckle was what escaped her mouth. But Noah could see that there was still sadness in her eyes. He didn’t want to pursue it.

“I would very much like that.” Ashley smiled. Then, suddenly with no provocation, she laid a quick peck of her lips on his cheek.

Noah looked at her half startled. “What was that for?” He rubbed the part of his cheek that she kissed.

“Nothing. It’s just. . .” As if compelled by some invisible force, Ashley and Noah slowly moved toward each other for a kiss. But their moment was cut short when a sound interrupted them and drew their attention.

The ship’s artificial intelligence materialized from a pillar next to the couch. Stratus, as his name suggests, took the avatar of a cloud. Depending on his mood or task, Stratus would take the shape of a wide range of cloud formations from cumulus when happy, to cumulonimbus when irritated or frustrated.

“Ah, there you two are. I was, oh—my apologies.” Stratus addressed.

“Stratus, it’s fine. What is it?” Ashley sat normally, as did Noah.

Noah watched as Stratus rotated and curled around itself, taking the shape of a cirrus cloud. He was embarrassed.

“Agent Coeman and Mr. Sówka, I apologize again for the interruption but Captain Bashir would like to see you both on the bridge as soon as possible. We’re approaching Mazovia, and well—”

Stratus changed shape again to a cirrostratus. Most shipborne AIs created at Double I were confident and calculating. But Stratus, he was quite nervous and shy than most of his artificial peers. In spite of that, Stratus was a very competent AI and the crew, best to Noah’s knowledge, enjoyed him and his light-hearted attitude.

Noah could feel the AI looking at him. “Stratus? Speak.” Noah insisted.

“It’s not good.” The AI replied. “Please, report to the bridge.”

The AI winked out of existence, leaving Ashley and Noah alone again. They looked at each other one more time.

“We better go.” Ashley acknowledged. Noah nodded in agreement. The pair stood and he followed her out of the observation deck.

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Chapter Three

Otto Hall

Devil's Den

Group of Nine Facility

Mazovia

April 10, 2538

Otto Hall stood next to the counter, stirring a freshly brewed cup of his favorite tea. He wasn’t sure when something like this would come again, so he would savor this moment. He was still wearing his lab coat and his muscles ached immensely from overwork. He hadn’t slept in more than twenty-four hours and now his patience was starting to run thin.

Otto had been looking forward to getting some sleep until they arrived. Everything had happened so quickly. The entire facility was placed under lockdown and the Covenant wasted no time in burning down every city they could find. Those who were unlucky enough to be caught outside the facility were likely dead by now. Thankfully they were under several meters of earth, reinforced titanium, and a thick layer of concrete that shielded them from electromagnetic pulses emanating from the surface.

It was a fortress, in some sense. Constructed by the Office of Naval Intelligence in the later years of Operation: TREBUCHET, it filtered the air, recycled water, and had enough food and medical supplies to last at least one year. Facilities like these were built all over the Outer Colonies when Naval Intelligence had reason to believe that humanity was walking on a path to an all-out civil war. They were right, to an extent. But instead of that, we got something much worse.

Behind him, a massive three-meter wide viewscreen broadcasted two teardrop-shaped Covenant battlecruisers bombarding the remnants of Toruń. The room they stood in reminded Otto of old Terran Gothic architecture seen throughout Europe on Earth. The walls around him were a fine, dark wooden material. The design gave the impression of a depressive, gloomy atmosphere. Appropriate, considering the circumstances they were in.

Otto finished stirring his tea when Fedor Volkov decided to open his mouth.

“It’s beautiful. Don’t you think?” he asked. His Russo-Verentian accent was like nails on a chalkboard. Otto despised the man with every fiber of his being, and now he was locked down here with him. Breathing the same stale, recycled air.

Otto turned around with his cup in hand. He glimpsed at the viewscreen as a battlecruiser melted away one of the decorative Gothic towers of the Uniwersytet Toruńia. The tower snapped in two and collapsed down to the university courtyard, crushing the students and staff that were trapped there.

“Yes.” He paused just in time to see Fedor’s eyes twitch. “In a perversely, psychopathic sort of way, sure.” Otto spat.

Otto hoped for a reaction, but it never came. Instead, Fedor pretended not to hear, but at the corner of his eye Otto could see that ancient face of his redden and wrinkle into a badly concealed scowl.

Men like him weren’t meant to reach the ripe, youthful age of one-hundred and forty-two, yet there he stood, barely. Despite countless flash cloned organs, cybernetic attachments, and cryo-therapy, Fedor Volkov was finally reaching the inevitable upper-limits of human biology. He looked even worse than he did last week. With any luck, he’ll be dead by the end of the month.

It was fascinating watching the old fossil struggling to stand even with most of his legs replaced by artificial limbs designed to mimic real skin. No amount of credits could grant him the fountain of youth he desired so badly. His time in this world was running thin. Tick. Tock.

Otto’s mind visualized if it was possible to walk up to him and give him a quick shove while he was unbalanced. Watching him fall to the ground with a painful thump and rupturing those poorly flash cloned organs that had infested the inside of his body. As a test to see just how frail he really was.

Otto’s imagination got the better of him, and a badly suppressed laugh escaped his lips.

Fedor turned his head, revealing the ocular implant occupying what used to be his left eye. It glowed yellow. Otto felt like he was being scanned. “Is something funny?” Fedor challenged.

“Yes.” Otto raised the corner of his mouth.

“Mind sharing?” Fedor’s voice was a pathetic attempt at trying to sound in control.

“No.”

Fedor’s face turned at Otto with a contemptuous look and he pivoted the rest of his body to address him directly. His stance set at a lean, a consequence from an old procedure that left him with one leg shorter than the other.

“I am the director of this facility, so you will address me as such.” Fedor hissed. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if you had just simply done your job.” a chastising finger was pointed at Otto.

Otto sipped quietly at his tea.

“Oh? Got nothing to say with that smart mouth of yours?” he continued, “We’ll see just how smug that face is when we leave you on this burning rock of a planet once the Daedalus arrives.” Fedor’s feeble body moved sluggishly toward Otto.

His difficulty to move just a few meters forced out another laugh from Otto. Fedor became strongly aware of his physical appearance and finally understood what was so funny. “I see.” he said with an acidic tone.

Fedor waddled over to Otto until they stood face to face. Otto was a head taller than the Director, and looked down at him with his deathly blue eyes. It was impossible for him to look imposing, but when Fedor raised his arm above his head, Otto thought that he was about to be struck in the face.

Suddenly, Otto was thrown backwards in time to his childhood. Fedor’s face and body had morphed into that of his eldest brother, and the room around them faded away to reveal that he was back in the slums of Castiglione. Towering above him, Otto’s brother Evrim raised his arm up high and aimed it for Otto’s face.

Instinctively, Otto raised his own arm to shield his face. He waited for the blow to come but when it didn’t, he lowered his arm and saw the widest grin draw across Fedor’s mouth. Back in the chamber, Otto briefly looked around at his surroundings. Still half disoriented, he looked back down at Fedor and saw that he had extended a cane from his coat sleeve.

The cane was attached to his wrist and could retract or extend on command. Fedor had extended it to balance himself, but for him it triggered a flashback that threw him decades away to his impoverished former life on Escala III. Otto’s hatred for Fedor grew even more for that.

“Well, isn’t that quite an interesting development,” Fedor smiled. “Now, that I’ve knocked you down a peg, let’s get back to business. What is it that you wanted to tell me?”

Otto breathed a second to regain his composure. He tugged at his jacket and straightened it before he spoke. “The synthesis is finally complete.” Fedor turned around and began walking to a couch sitting in front of the viewscreen to rest. Fedor bent down slowly to sit on the couch. He retracted his cane and leaned back. He raised his hand and opened his fingers to signal to Otto to follow him.

Otto walked forward and when he faced Fedor he thought about sitting in the leather chair to the side of him. He chose to stand instead.

While sitting, Fedor became fixated by the viewscreen. By now, both battlecruisers had finished their glassing of Toruń. What remained of the city was a smoking ruin. “We’re ready for trials but. . .” Otto paused abruptly to see if Fedor was still paying attention.

“But,” he echoed, not taking his eyes away from the screen.

“But, we don’t have enough samples to test the effectiveness and simulate it on a larger scale.”

“We already have samples, Otto. From the local populace. Was that not enough?”

Otto hesitated, “We burned through our samples. We. . . didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.”

“Already?” Fedor finally took his eyes off the screen, he looked to be in a state of disbelief.

“It’s very potent,” Otto replied.

Like the flip of a switch, Fedor’s face went from disbelief to horror. He tried to mask it by placing a hand over his mouth.

While Fedor sat with morbid silence, Otto decided to take the initiative. “We’re ready for primary trials. We just need samples from the Covenant.”

Fedor sputtered at the request. “Covenant? The planet is burning, Parangosky is hunting us down, and you want to proceed with Stage Two?” Fedor rubbed his temples in frustration.

Otto knew that this information wouldn’t sit well with him. It wasn’t him that delayed the work, it was Fedor, using the glassings of his own businesses as a convenient excuse to irregularly freeze funding for the project. When the truth was revealed to them, Fedor was the only one horrified by the project. Otto knew he wanted to leave, but leaving meant death to prevent leaks. The only person to leave the Group alive was the Command-in-Chief herself, Margaret Parangosky. And because of what she knew, she was hunting us down to bury the project for good and keep her involvement a secret.

“You know what we have to do.” Otto began. “We need those samples. We’re so close to ending this.” he softened his voice to sound more sincere and convincing. “You want this war to end, right? This is our key. Just get us the samples we need.”

Fedor shook his head unconvinced. “The planet is in ruins. The Daedalus will be here soon. There are no samples here.”

Otto pointed at the viewscreen with the Covenant battlecruisers. “The samples are onboard those ships.” Just as he said that the ships began to angle upward. The feed followed the pair as they raced high into the atmosphere, heading somewhere important.

Fedor’s eyes widened, looking at him as if he was rambling some kind of madness. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Fedor—”

“You’re willing to compromise this facility so you can continue your pet project? We’re not an army, Doctor Hall.” Faster than he had ever seen him move before, Fedor stood from the couch. He was growing erratic by the second, obviously unnerved by everything that was happening.

“Felix is more than capable of doing what I ask,” Otto said with confidence.

“Capable?” Fedor huffed. “That Silverback is nothing but a glorified bodyguard. Convicts dressed in fancy-looking armor with third-rate augmentations. They’re no Spartans, boy.”

Otto ignored the insult. “The Spartans are fighting a losing battle. The military doesn’t have what it takes.”

“Doesn’t have what it takes,” he mocked. “Killing billions to save billions is, I guess?” Fedor walked to a panel next to the viewscreen. Otto couldn’t see that he was pressing, and tried to get closer.

“I didn’t know you were so sympathetic to the aliens.” Otto moved closer to see what he was doing.

“And I didn’t know you were as stupid as you are smart.” Fedor turned around brandishing an M6 magnum sidearm. He aimed it at Otto’s chest. “You must think me a fool to believe that this was only meant for the Covenant. Once they were dealt with, how long until you turned it on the Colonies? On Earth?”

Otto slowly raised his hands above his head. He didn’t plan on dying today. “Fedor put down the gun,” he asked dryly.

“It should’ve been obvious that putting a group together of power-hungry elites would come up with something like this.” Fedor kept the gun on him in one hand and pressed a key on the panel with the other. If Otto was a military man, he may have gone for the gun. But the only strength he had was in his mind.

“It’s been a long day, Fedor. You just need rest. We all need rest.” Otto tried to ease the tension that stuffed the air around them.

“You can get your rest in a cell.” Fedor kept the gun centered on Otto’s chest. One single wrong move and he gets a fatal shot to the heart.

“You’ve gone mad.” Before Otto could further express his outrage at what was happening, the door to the chamber opened. Beyond the door stood Felix Goudreau accompanied by a dozen or so security behind him.

The SILVERBACK agent stood taller than everyone and had to lower his head below the doorframe to enter. His armored boots pounded strongly on the wood-tiled floor as he entered. It had been rare to see him not wearing that armor, and even rarer to hear him speak. He glanced at Otto once before turning to Fedor.

“Is there a problem, Director?” The agent asked.

“What took you so long, you damned idiot.” Fedor chided at him.

“If I may speak, I believe the Director has gone insane,” Otto said with his hands still raised.

“Put the Doctor in custody. Have a guard posted at his cell at all times. Nobody is allowed to visit him.” Fedor said with a sharp tongue, ignoring Otto's previous statement.

The SILVERBACK agent stood for a moment, staring at Fedor and then turned his head to Otto. The ocular implant in his right eye glowed a faint red color. His face betrayed no expression.

“That is an order!” Fedor shouted nervously.

Felix walked forward, reached Otto and looked down at him. Without a word, he grabbed Otto firmly by the shoulder and ushered him forward to the door. Just before exiting the room, Otto caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye as Fedor was taking a sigh of relief.

Enjoy it now, old man.

Back to top

Chapter Four

Noah Sówka

Deliver Us From Evil

Bridge of the UNSC Atacama

Mazovian Orbit

April 10, 2538

Noah followed Ashley through the tight corridors of the Atacama on their way to the bridge. They passed the sick bay and crew quarters that housed the eighty-six crew members and finally reached the central elevator connecting all four decks of the ship. The ride up gave them a brief window to speak.

“How bad do you think it is?” Noah asked.

“I wish there was something to comfort you with, but with the records, we have to describe Covenant bombardment. . .”

“Yeah. I know.” Noah felt the pit in his stomach grow even more.

Without warning, Noah felt her take his hand. She held onto it tightly for the rest of the ride up, and then let go when the door of the elevator opened.

Ashley stepped out first and he followed her. The bridge was dark and cold. Blue, green, and red light faintly illuminated the walls and floors as the bridge crew silently worked at their stations. Captain Amman Bashir stood over a wide holographic map of the city of Toruń, with Stratus hovering next to it like an approaching storm cloud.

“Captain.” Ashley grabbed the attention of Captain Bashir.

Captain Bashir turned his head and stood straight. “Agent Coeman,” he welcomed. “I see your plan was a success,” he added when he saw Noah behind her.

“It was.” Ashley agreed. “You have my thanks.” She pulled the lighter from her pocket and tossed it at the Captain.

Bashir caught it with his prosthetic arm and tucked it away inside the leg pocket of his gray command uniform. Noah had read through his file before boarding the Atacama. Learning how he had lost his original arm during a fleet engagement with the Covenant back in ‘32 serving as a lieutenant aboard a destroyer. That battle also rewarded him with a particularly nasty looking scar starting from the side of his face near the ear and curling downward toward his chest. Because of his appearance, the crew referred to him as “Mechaniko”, a popular heroic film character from the past century.

“By now I’m sure you’ve heard of the situation we’re dealing with?” Bashir asked Noah directly.

“Only the details I was briefed on before we left dock,” Noah answered. His eyes drifted over to the hologram of his hometown. The city he had grown up in looked unrecognizable. It was alien to him as if it couldn’t possibly be the home that he knew. “Are there any survivors?” his voice sounded dry and rough.

Bashir rubbed his dense black beard and turned back to the holotable. The map of Toruń dissolved and a projection of the entire planet of Mazovia took its place. It rotated slowly on its own until the Captain turned it manually, showing the extent of the damage that the Covenant had caused. Every population center had been hit. Toruń. Sněžka. Pilecki. Even the outlying rural regions in the still untamed vast wildernesses were burned away. Noah could see the massive smokestacks rising high into Mazovia’s atmosphere. Carrying unfathomable amounts of ash, dust, and other noxious particulates high into the atmosphere.

“We arrived just in time to see the final engagement.” Bashir pointed out. “It’s not pretty, but we believe the planet is still habitable.”

Noah spoke up. “Final engagement?”

“While you two were still in the observation dome, we observed the final fleet engagement.” Next to the planet, several dots blinked into existence. When Captain Bashir zoomed in on them, Noah could see the fleet formation and makeup of the colony’s defensive force and the Covenant invasion fleet.

Less than twenty ships of cruisers, destroyers, and frigates lined up to take on the smaller Covenant fleet. The Navy’s forces were organized into two battlegroups led by the Marathon-class cruiser UNSC Heisenberg and the Halcyon-class cruiser UNSC Kaspar Röist. Together, the battlegroups fought against the Covenant fleet with little chance for success.

The opening salvo from the Navy dispatched the smaller auxiliary vessels guarding the flanks of the Covenant flagship, a massive capital ship that resembled a fishhook. The larger Covenant ships suffered little damage, their shields safely protecting them from the weaker MAC and missile weaponry that made up the bulk of the Navy’s firepower.

When the Covenant ships returned fire, it was a massacre. The Heisenberg had been almost instantly vaporized by the fishhook warship. It’s hull cracked and disintegrated as plasma melted away its armor and penetrated deep enough to explode and destroy the ship’s main reactor.

What remained of the Navy’s forces continued to fight, and even managed to strike a fatal blow to a battlecruiser. The victory was short-lived, however, as the fishhook ship barreled through the debris of its fallen escorts and rushed the human formation. To make matters worse, two additional battlecruisers flanked the Navy formation, returning from their glassing of Toruń.

Feeling tense, Noah watched the feed, daring not to take his eyes off it. “All of this happened before we left slipspace?” he asked.

“The final shots were fired just as we approached Casimir. By the time we emerged on the other side of the moon, all that was left was a graveyard.” Bashir replied. “I’m sorry.”

But a stroke of luck fell in favor of the Navy, as Mazovia’s sole surviving orbital weapon station came into range and provided much-needed fire support. It was smaller than the Moncton-classes Noah had seen surrounding Reach, but they still packed enough of a punch to disable the shields of a Covenant warship, at least on paper.

The station fired its main gun and not only did it puncture through the shield of one of the battlecruisers, it penetrated deep into the ship’s hull, critically damaging the ship as it struck a reactor and blew off an entire section of the cruiser. It tumbled in low orbit until it was finally finished off by two MAC rounds from the battlegroup.

This turn of events left the Covenant with only two ships, but the Navy had less than ten. While the Navy had the numbers, their only remaining high tonnage ship was the Kaspar Röist. Suddenly aware of the weapon station in orbit, the battlecruiser broke off its attack and changed course to rush the orbiting station and destroy it. Like a sacrificial lamb.

Knowing that their only chance to destroy the flagship was keeping the orbital weapon station intact, the Kaspar Röist assisted by the Charon-class frigate Syracuse chased after the Covenant battlecruiser as it rushed for the station. Both the Kaspar Röist and Syracuse fired their MACs, only for their slugs to impact harmlessly against the battlecruiser’s shields. The Covenant ship returned fire by unleashing its aft pulse lasers, gutting the Kaspar Röist across its side and disabling its primary weapon systems.

Unable to continue the fight, the Kaspar Röist broke off its pursuit and left only the Syracuse to chase the cruiser. The Syracuse fired its MAC again and supported it with a volley of Archer missiles. The firing solution was timed as to impact all at the same time, in the hopes that the combined firepower would overload the shields and leave it vulnerable for a short time.

But the attack failed again, the shields of the battlecruiser were too strong for the frigate’s weaponry. Noah noticed Captain Bashir was biting his thumb, and silently pointed out the orbital weapon station.

Suddenly, the weapon station fired its main gun again, punching through the battlecruiser’s shields and piercing into its bulbous front section. The round exited near the ship’s engines, gutting it of both its weapons and propulsion systems. The MAC round continued on its course and nearly grazed the Syracuse as it shot past.

The station then unleashed its secondary weapons as the Covenant ship was laid bare and left vulnerable. Syracuse fired another volley of Archer missiles in support. Missiles and coilgun fire impacted all over the ship, leaving hundreds of holes in place of the smooth, almost organic hull design that the Covenant had become familiarized with. Even after all that firepower, the ship still wasn’t destroyed. Instead, it spun lifelessly in Mazovia’s exosphere, no longer a threat.

Strangely, it reminded him of the pitted ant colonies that could be found in cliff walls deep in the forest that surrounded his family home. A part of his brain waited for giant space ants to come crawling out of the holes marked all over the cruiser. Instead, dozens of Covenant transport ships escaped from the doomed ship’s hangers, heading for the planet’s surface.

With its enemy defeated, the Syracuse turned around, planning to join back up with the rest of the battlegroup until it suddenly diverted its course away from the battle. Instead, it turned back around and headed for the orbital station. Then, transport ships and ferries swarmed out of its hangers, heading somewhere to the surface of the planet. A pair of Longsword fighters were also launched, attacking and eliminating as many Covenant transports as they could before they reached the surface.

“What’s that about?” Noah asked.

The Captain said nothing, and held his hand up with a raised finger. Noah saw it.

The Kaspar Röist was leading the charge. It’s weapon systems were back online and she fired her MAC at the last Covenant ship, followed by a barrage of MAC and Archer fire from the destroyers on her flanks. It was only when the Röist’s MAC round impacted against the Covenant shields that Noah noticed the Shiva nuclear warhead trailing it.

The destroyer’s MAC rounds and Archer missiles temporarily overloaded the shield’s of the alien ship, allowing the nuclear missile to slip through. The nuke detonated, creating a brief flash of light around the flagship. But as the light dimmed, it slowly revealed that the ship was still largely intact and unharmed.

Noah exhaled loudly as the Covenant ship fired over continuous barrages of plasma torpedos toward the battlegroup. All of the ships were destroyed save for the Kaspar Röist, who despite all odds, kept its course toward the ship. The Röist gained speed, pushing itself to the limit with one final effort.

Noah understood what was about to happen. He whispered out a prayer and thanked them for what they were about to do.

The Kaspar Röist slammed into the flagship’s shields, the force of the hit caused the shields to overload, sending what remained of the Kaspar Röist into the front of the ship. Just as the Röist sacrificed itself did the orbital weapon station fire its MAC one last time. The round sliced into the weakest section of the fishhook-shaped ship and cracked it into two.

The remains of the flagship and the Kaspar Röist were caught by Mazovia’s gravity, and together they slowly began their fiery descent to the surface. Noah never spotted any lifeboats or transport ships fleeing from the fishhook ship. It seemed that many aboard never expected that they would ever need to flee. The battle was over. The projection dissolved and left the holotable clear aside from Stratus, who floated in silence.

“That was all we could recover,” Bashir started. “Stratus is still trying to sift through the details and for a clearer picture of events. But it’s not looking good.”

“But there are still people, right?” Noah asked.

Bashir faced Ashley with a silent, contemplating look. “Every population center got hit. Sněžka was wiped off the map completely. There are so many smokestacks coming from Toruń that we can’t even assess the damage done to it. So far there’s not much difference when it comes to other regions.” he finally said.

There was nothing Noah could say or do that could change that reality. He was helpless. As much as the billions of others affected by this war.

“I understand it was your home. I’m sorry. Nobody deserves to have this happen to them.” The Captain added.

Living this far from Earth? Who hasn’t? Noah said to himself.

“Noah,” Ashley placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Noah felt numb. He felt like he was losing his senses. The metallic smell of the bridge had faded away, and he barely heard Ashley talk despite standing right next to him.

“I’m sure.” Noah said, mustering whatever confidence in him that remained.

“You don’t need to do this, son.” Bashir intoned with lamented sincerity.

Son. What a strange thing to say to someone of my age.

“Nobody else will stand up to the task. I will go.” When Noah looked around, all the eyes of the bridge crew were on him.

Captain Bashir hesitated to speak, and Ashley nodded reluctantly.

“So be it.” Bashir said. “Stratus, bring up the city of Toruń’s layout. Give us the 2454 portfolio.”

Noah raised an eyebrow and walked next to the holotable. “2454? That’s the year the Kampus Scientifica was established.” He leaned over the table as Mazovia’s most prestigious university materialized.

“Indeed it is. Mazovia always wanted to elevate itself over its fellow Outer Colonies. The campus was meant to impress crown jewel; draw in elites from the Core. Like a child wanting to impress their parents.” Bashir said.

“The Kampus still attracted a great number of students, even drawing in researchers from Earth to examine archeological digs founded a year before I was born.” Noah was unsure why this information was relevant to his mission. “Why does this have to do with Brigham anyway?”

“Noah. . .” Ashley said softly. “Brigham’s been dead for fifteen years.” She was leaning against a metal pillar, a shadow obscured her face.

“What?” Noah leaned away from the table. “The briefings. The dossiers. All of that—”

“Fake.” Bashir finished for him.

“Another deception. Like always.” Noah didn’t look at Ashley, but she knew the words were meant for her.

“That’s not true.”

“Then why the lies?” He shot a piercing glance at her as she emerged from her shadow. “Why bring me all the way out here? Just to watch my home burn?” Noah could see the hurt in her eyes when he said that.

“The mission. Your mission, is not a deception.” Bashir interrupted their spat. “To maintain complete secrecy, we needed you to believe you were hunting down another rogue asset.”

“They weren’t ‘rogue assets’, they were my comrades.” The words fumed from Noah’s mouth with no hesitation.

Captain Bashir ignored him and continued. “This is straight from the top. Off the books retrieval or termination. There will be no compromises.” Bashir circled around the holotable. “Stratus, bring up Kampus Scientifica building portfolio dated 2526. Then overlay it with 2454.”

“Merging. . .” Stratus said. Both projections of the university merged together into one. “Done. It’s almost identical.” The AI pointed out.

“Almost,” Bashir said. “Can you see it?” He said directly to Noah.

He saw it. It was a barely noticeable hallway located just beneath the university’s main lobby. An untouched passage to a dead end. “Yes.”

“That hallway leads to nowhere. It’s been empty for twelve years. No references to it exist in the university’s records. Nobody goes near it, nobody knows why it's there.” Bashir revealed. “Tornado shelter, maybe? Toruń had an epidemic of macrobursts when I was a child. So many homes and offices were damaged.” Noah rubbed at his beard, remembering.

“Then why was it built nearly half a century after those macrobursts had ended? Stratus scoured through every single surviving building record for the university. This hallway only appears in 2526. Built during the university’s renovation after it had received special grants from Naval Intelligence. It was a revolutionary time for the university.” Noah’s eyes darted up from the holotable. “Yes, you’re now beginning to understand,” Bashir said.

“An ONI facility underneath the university?”

“Have you ever heard of the Phaedra Project?” Bashir asked.

Noah glanced at Ashley with uncertainty and shook his head back to Bashir. “Can’t say I have.”

Bashir prodded away at the controls of the holotable, bringing up a projection of a man with dark skin. Next to his profile was an emblem. The signature all-seeing eye of ONI, surrounded by beams of light as they shot out from the triangle. Below the emblem listed the name: PHAEDRA.

“Now more than ever, the UNSC is in critical need of combat-capable artificial intelligence to fight the Covenant. PHAEDRA was created to expand the lifespans of these AIs, among other things. Our darkest days still lay ahead for us, and we’ll need every resource we can get our hands on to stay in this fight.”

“Expanding beyond seven years is a fool’s gambit. The dangers and risks outweigh any benefits. ”

“Seven years on average. Many agricultural and security AIs already share singular data centers, allowing their lifespans to exceed beyond those seven years. Duplication, Triad links, Nocturnality theory, every hypothetical you can imagine has already been thought of, yet none have ever been put into practice.”

“Until PHAEDRA.”

Bashir nodded. “That man, there,” he pointed at the profile hovering over the table. “That is Doctor Melvin Jovel. Your target.” The profile expanded to include his full body. The simulation had him bald and wearing a lab coat. His height, blood type, and age were listed next to him. The display that showed his vital signs were blank, no connection could be made with the facility.

“If he’s dead?” Noah asked bluntly.

“Retrieve any and all research materials and studies related to PHAEDRA. Then torch the facility.” Bashir leaned forward over the table. “If that isn’t possible, torch it anyway. The Covenant cannot get their hands on that facility.”

“And my extraction?”

“Secure PHAEDRA, and you’ll get your extraction.”

“Captain!” The navigation officer suddenly yelled out. “We have contact!”

Noah, Ashley and the Captain all turned their heads to the front of the bridge. Noah followed the Captain as he walked over to the Ensign.

“More Covenant?” Noah asked, but nobody answered.

“Stratus, what is it?” Bashir asked, but no reply came. “Stratus?” he said again with more authority.

Stratus blinked into existence above a cylindrical holotank between the helm controls. “My apologies, Captain. But we have detected movement in the planet’s lower orbit.”

“Covenant in origin?” Bashir asked.

“No, it appears to be the Syracuse, sir,” Stratus said. “They’re carrying refugees and are preparing a jump to slispace. Should we hail them?”

“No, scan the ship for ONI Civilian Consultant Melvin Jovel. We’ll hail them only if he’s aboard.”

“Scanning. . .” Several pulses came and went, and Stratus remained silent.

“Stratus? Respond.” A hint of irritation lingered in the Captain’s voice.

“Sir. . .” Stratus finally responded, there was a deep sadness in his digitized voice. “It’s only children.”

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Chapter Five

Selim Çelik

Force Multiplier

Jajovice Airbase

Toruń province, Mazovia

April 10, 2538

The air was stained with the smell of death. All around Selim laid the dead, dying, and those unlucky enough to survive what was coming next.

“Get the M247s back online!” somebody shouted. “We need those Forty-mike-mikes on the balcony” another voice called out. It was chaos. They were surrounded on all sides by an enemy that would kill every last one of them.

But Selim pressed on, determined to save lives at the possible expense of his own.

“Keep holding his abdomen there,” Selim said with a calm voice. “Yes, like that—” His assistant flinched as the sound of a plasma mortar struck the side of the building. Concrete dust shook and fell from the ceiling. “Resa. Please, you have to keep calm. We’re almost done. Resa. Resa, look at me.” She was shaking from stress, and her eyes leaked with tears. Every fiber of her body urged her to run, but when she looked at Selim composure, some of it transferred to her. “Yes, that’s it. Keep your eyes on me.”

Selim looked back down at the seventeen-centimeter long needle embedded into the trooper’s abdomen. A faint purple glow pulsed slowly inside the needle. Almost like a timer.

Fortunately for this soldier, the needle never exploded on contact. It gave Selim a chance to finally see the effects of an IRGE (infrared-guided explosive) needle up close, and hopefully, save this man’s life. Most wounds like these are never pretty. Some are torn apart completely from as little as two needles. Some are cut in half and die from shock before they can ever get treatment. You were considered lucky if you only lost an arm or leg. Not even plasma weapons are this inhumane.

The needle lodged in his lower torso didn’t damage too much of his organs, nothing that couldn’t be sealed up with biofoam and treated later. Treating this would be a tricky business. Cutting the needle in half with a saw could trigger the explosive. And leaving it inside endangered him, and everyone else in the room. Selim realized that the only course of action would be incredibly stupid and in violation of everything he was taught.

“Resa—when I pull this thing out, I want you to get as much distance from me as possible. Ready?” Resa nodded her head with shivering eyes.

Selim began to pull on the needle, making the soldier grimace and scream in pain. There was no anesthetics or morphine left. “Go, I’ve got it!” Selim yelled.

Selim continued to pull on the needle, all seventeen centimeters of it exited the infantryman's body with a suction cup sound.

The purple glow inside the needle grew brighter in Selim’s hand for a moment before winking out completely. He breathed a sigh of relief, but when he reopened his eyes, the glow inside the needle returned. It got brighter and brighter, and the pulses returned. Every second that passed the pulses became more rapid, like a ticking time bomb. “Shit,” Selim whispered. He bolted out from the medical curtain and ran up the stairs. He could feel Resa’s eyes on him, but he dared not look back. He kept racing up the stairs until he found a window and opened it. Beyond him, the walls of the base were still standing. Selim threw the needle out of the window and over the top of the wall. Just in time too, as the needle exploded and created a thick cloud of purplish-black smoke.

Selim could hear the battle raging outside but there was no time to think or look outside the window. He ran back down the stairs and to his patient. When he passed through the curtain, Resa was already there, sealing the wound with biofoam and applying an intravenous PolyHeme (polymerized hemoglobin) to his arm. “Thank you,” Selim panted, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“Is he stable?” he asked.

Resa checked her medical scanner. “He is.”

“Good. . . good. We still have work to do.” Selim gestured for her to follow him.

The room they were in was the lobby of the main building of the Jajovice Airbase. The medical wing was wiped out in the initial attack, killing most of Selim’s medical staff. Resa was all that was left.

Selim was almost double her age, a woman of a younger generation thrown into the hell that was this war. As young as she was, she was a gifted surgical assistant and nurse even after she had been rushed onto the frontlines before completing her training. And now, her gifts would be needed more than ever if anyone was to survive this.

The lobby was filled with wounded and dead soldiers and airmen. The base had been hit so hard that its fighter wing was completely decimated in seconds, never getting a chance to get into the air. The air and ground belonged to the Covenant, tightening their grip on us with every second.

As Selim walked through the lobby, he realized there was not much left he could do. Painkillers and morphine were depleted hours ago. Their supplies of biofoam and MediGel were dangerously low. Soldiers with plasma burns and radiation burns turned in their makeshift beds as there was nothing to treat them with or to dull their pain.

“Resa, what’s the count of anesthetics, coagulants, and gels?” Selim already knew the numbers, but he hoped that this time something would be different. Maybe a spare pack of morphine found under some rubble, or a canister of biofoam behind some sandbags. He cursed the Covenant for destroying the medical wing and the supplies that were in it.

Resa checked her PDA behind him. Her voice didn’t sound very confident. “Zero anesthetics. Seven biofoam canisters. Two gel kits. Maybe we could—”

“It’s not enough,” he said under his breath.

“Sir?” she said, there was a tremble in her voice.

The sound of gunfire and plasma fire drew closer. The Covenant were nearing the main building of the base. He could see the blue and green flashes outside, just beyond the windows of the lobby.

This is the end of everything.

Selim wiped the sweat from his face and turned around to Resa. He grabbed her arm and led her back to the infantryman behind the curtain. There, he handed her the soldier’s sidearm. “Take this, and head to the basement. Beneath the stairs, you’ll find an old passageway. Keep following the path and it will guide you out to the forest, far away from this.” He held the sidearm against her chest until she took it.

“What? I can’t—what about you—the others!” quavered Resa.

Selim grabbed the MA37 assault rifle from the table and checked the magazine and changed it to a full one. He grabbed another two and stuffed them into his medical bag. “I’ll keep them safe, you must go. Once you get to the forest, remain there for three days. Don’t go to a city and get caught in a glassing.” he instructed.

She stood there dumbstruck and tried to protest. “Go!” demanded Selim with a demanding voice, and she was off running without another word.

Just as she turned the corner, the doors to the lobby flew open. In its place, stood a silver armored Elite carrying an ignited energy sword. The Elite roared in triumph and charged Selim.

Selim emptied the first magazine on the Elite, depleting its shield but not breaking it. As it got closer, he noticed that its armor was caked in red blood, the blood of his comrades.

When the Elite closed the gap, it lunged at Selim. Selim narrowly managed to dodge to the left and avoid the blade. He fed another magazine into the rifle and fired it again at the Elite’s back. The assault rifle’s ammo counter blinked red as he unloaded the magazine, further depleting the alien’s shield.

“One to go,” he said to himself as he fed the last mag into the rifle. He gave it a presumptive slap for good luck. “Come on,” he said to the alien. “Come on, turn around. Let’s see that ugly face.”

The Elite snarled and slashed away toward Selim as it turned to face him. He fired short, controlled bursts hoping to break the shield and score a few good hits with the remaining rounds. But the ammo counter ticked down below ten and the alien’s shield was still active as the Elite got closer to ending him.

Just as the rifle spent all its rounds did the Elite slash upward at him. Selim grabbed the rifle with both hands and blocked the blade. The rifle was cut in half and the tip of the blade sliced the bottom of his left ear.

Selim grimaced in pain but noticed that the alien’s shields were down. The last of his rounds cracked and depleted the shield completely, and the Elite was vulnerable for a short time.

The alien made a sound as if it was celebrating a victory, and raised its blade above its head for a killing blow. But when the alien brought the blade down, Selim noticed something attached to its waist. Another energy blade, with a smaller handle.

Selim rolled out of the way and kicked the Elite’s pelvis. While the alien was taken aback, he grabbed the blade handle. He fumbled with it, trying to figure out how to hold it correctly. He was afraid that igniting it would cause the blade to slice through his hand.

But when Selim ignited it, it expanded outward in the right direction. The blade was shorter than the sword and reminded him of ancient short blades or even daggers from Earth.

Selim readied himself for a decisive final fight. But the Elite just stood there, its mandibles made a sound reminiscent to laughter. Then the alien spoke in Selim’s own language. “You’ve got more honor than most, a rare trait for your kind.” said the alien, in the best English it could muster.

“It’s not honor, only survival.” Selim wiped away the blood running from his ear. “I’m ready, how about you?” he asked with fire in his voice.

The Elite fell silent and charged Selim. They locked their blades together as they clashed. Selim used all the strength in his body to not be overpowered by the alien. When he felt himself losing, he grabbed a scalpel from the instrument table next to him and stabbed one of the Elite’s mandibles.

The alien screamed in pain and backed away, its free hand clutching at its mouth. The Elite grabbed onto the scalpel and pulled it out. A small pool of purple blood formed at the Elite’s feet. “I stand corrected,” said the alien. Selim readied himself again, but this time he went on the offensive. They clashed their blades together several times more, until the fourth when Selim lost his footing and fell to the floor. The alien’s blade managed to slice across his right arm, burning the skin and tearing his uniform.

Selim grabbed his arm and yelled painfully. When he looked up at the alien, he saw it bringing down the blade to decapitate him. Just before the blade went for his neck, a bang sounded from behind the Elite and something struck him on its back, penetrating the harness and wounding it. When the alien turned around, another two bangs rang out and struck the alien across its chest.

The Elite fell backward, stunned. Selim saw her, smoke rose from the barrel of the M6G magnum that Resa was holding. When the alien raised its head once more, Resa unloaded another two rounds into its mouth and skull, killing it.

Selim was still laying on the floor when Resa rushed over to help him. “Your hurt,” said a worried Resa. “I’ll go grab one of the gel kits!”

Selim grabbed her by the wrist before she could stand back up. “No,” Selim groaned. “Just help me up.”

Resa nodded hesitantly and helped him stand back up with his good arm. When he was standing, he looked down at the arm and examined the wound. The blade cut into the skin and seared his flesh from his forearm to shoulder, but no bone was damaged and he could still move it albeit with some pain.

Selim picked up the energy dagger next to him and looked around. “Why didn’t you listen?” he asked Resa.

“I—” she hesitated. “I couldn’t leave you—or them.”

“You should have.”

“I’m not running! Not anymore,” she said with a rare assertive tone that he’d never heard from her before.

“Brave of you,” he said. “Brave, but stupid.”

“I’m not the one sword fighting aliens, sir.” jested Resa.

“No, no I suppose you’re not.” Selim with a grin.

Before they could think of what to do next, Selim heard the front door of the lobby slam open yet again. Fearing that another Elite or worse had shown up, his body snapped around and ignited the dagger to face the threat.

But when his eyes focused, he saw only the figure of a human running toward him.

“Lieutenant! Thank God you’re still alive!” the soldier called out.

The look of relief on the Army trooper’s face puzzled Selim. “Trooper. What’s going on?” he asked.

“We won!” Selim turned back to Resa with a confused expression. “It was—It was the—” The soldier’s breathing was ragged, and his face was covered in dirt and ash. His head was covered by a bloody bandage wrapped around it.

“Relax, private.” Selim placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“It was the Militia, sir. They came from behind the Covenant on all fronts. They killed them all or sent them running back to the city! They told me that the Governor sent them to relieve us, they even had a Spartan!” The trooper was still breathing hard and nearly choked on a cough from overexerting himself.

Selim stood stunned by so much information at once. Resa then moved forward and seated the trooper on a chair. “Here, let me fetch you some water,” she said, running off to the hallway.

“Governor? Sněžka was destroyed completely within minutes of the Covenant’s arrival. There is no central government left.” Selim said to the trooper. A Spartan? Impossible. They're just a myth.

“I dunno, sir, but that’s what they told me to tell you.”

“Tell me? Where’s Lieutenant Colonel Guo?” he asked.

The trooper’s eyes failed to make eye contact, and he hesitated with what he said next. “Sir. . . you’re the highest-ranking officer we have left.”

Back to top

Chapter Six

Noah Sówka

Path of Silence

Toruń Forest

Mazovia

April 10, 2538

“He said there were more than a thousand onboard.” Ashley said, trying to keep pace.

“A thousand. Out of millions.” said a plaintive Noah.

“I know it’s not enough,”

“It never is.”

“Will you just listen to me?” Ashley grabbed Noah by the arm. It was a forceful tug, and it stopped him in his tracks. “Look at me, please.”

Noah turned around, facing her for possibly the last time. He wasn’t expecting to come back.

“I’ve already said my peace, Ash.”

“By brushing me off.”

She was right. Just as the briefing ended, Noah started for the belly of the Atacama that held the ship’s drop pods. His one-way ticket down to the planet. He was determined to complete his mission, and stay behind. He would put his home back together again. Brick by brick, street by street, or die trying.

“Why won’t you let me come with you?” she asked.

To keep you safe. He wanted to say. “This is my mission,” he said instead.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll grab my gear. Like the old—”

“No,” Noah said with a sharp tongue affirming that the discussion was settled. He lowered his voice when he saw her recoil backward. “Please.”

She lowered her eyes and nodded reluctantly. “When you get back—” Her face looked misty-eyed. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something that you deserve to know.”

“You can tell me now,” Noah said calmly and soft.

“When you get back,” Ashley said with a choked breath. She moved forward and closed both hands around one of his. Her hands were firm but soft, tightening around his calloused fingers. “Promise me.”

Noah hesitated for a moment, feeling unsettled. “I promise.” He lied, right to her face. It made him feel sick and empty inside.

They continued together to the belly of the Atacama, finally arriving at the drop bay. Two dozen drop pods lined both sides of the room. Each suspended in their launch tubes. All but one. A casket just for him, ready to send him to Hell.

Inside the drop pod was his sidearm and a case-like object that contained everything he would need for this mission barring food and water. Those would have to be procured on-sight. When he reached the pod, he checked his sidearm, a M6C magnum, and ensured he had enough magazines. The case was secured behind the seat of the pod. Everything was ready to go.

Noah had denied the recommendation of a combat suit. The uniform was similar to what ODSTs wore. Instead, he wore a temperature regulating and protective bodysuit underneath his outfit and jacket. This was often jokingly referred to as ‘super-spy business attire’ as the suit he wore concealed the bodysuit that protected him from varying degrees of small-arms fire. When he’d begin his descent to the planet, a helmet would link with his bodysuit, protecting him from the heat that would be generated and providing limited oxygen in the event of a hull breach.

Noah entered the pod and secured himself. He checked and double-checked the systems of the pod, and ensured that his temporary helmet was functioning properly. He removed the safeties and gave the green light.

“Don’t be a hero,” Ashley said, standing in front of the pod.

“I never was,” replied Noah.

The countdown timer winked to life with thirty seconds.

The hatch of the pod closed before Ashley could say anything else. She backed away as the pod turned a hundred and eighty degrees and connected with the launch tube. Noah caught a glimpse of Ashley’s face one last time. A single tear was running down the side of her cheek. Forgive me, Ash.

Captain Bashir appeared on a viewscreen inside the pod. “You’ll be landing somewhere in a forest just outside Toruń. We’ll be monitoring you every step of the way. I can’t guarantee anything, but we’ll try to provide you with support where we can. Good luck, Agent Sówka.” The Captain’s face disappeared with static as the transmission ended.

“Whatever happens, happens. . .” Noah said to himself out loud, undaunted by any listening ears within the pod.

The timer dropped to zero, and Noah felt the clamps connecting the pod to the ship detach. The pod fired out from the launch tube, shooting for Mazovia below.

The pod rumbled as it entered the planet’s atmosphere. He passed through layers of clouds and mist. After clearing the cloud layer, he could see the remnants of Toruń. As he got closer, he could begin to pick out the finer details.

So much was gone, reduced to piles of rubble and dust. It was nothing like the reconnaissance photos or holographic projection. It was so much worse than he could have imagined. Poisonous black smoke hung high in the air, and fires continued to rage all throughout the damaged buildings and streets.

The pod began its final descent as it appeared over the forest. The ejection bolts flashed red, notifying Noah to brace for impact.

Less than 30 seconds before it hit the ground Noah felt something pulled hard on him. Something smacked into the side of the pod, throwing him off course and sending the pod spinning uncontrollably to the ground. Just before he hit the surface, Noah looked up and saw the corner of his pod glowing a bright yellowish-orange. Plasma.

His pod hit the ground hard, kicking dirt high up into the canopy. Tumbling and rolling, the pod only came to halt when it slammed into a large tree. The inertial negators built into the pod did its best, but Noah still rocked his head against his seat’s headrest, disorienting him.

Despite his disorientation, Noah was alert and conscious. He looked around the pod and tried to reestablish contact with the Atacama. He called out on every available channel, but with the pod in the state it was in, his only response was static.

Noah sunk back into his chair, letting out a sigh. He sat there for a few minutes, his mind racing. Wondering if the Atacama was panicking with their sudden loss of contact. Wondering what the hell it was that hit his pod. And wondering what Ashley was thinking right now. His mind was racing with the thought of her. So cruel and cold to her back on that ship, and now he’ll never get to see her again. He hated himself for that. He wished he could turn back time. To caress her hair again. Holding her close and feeling her warmth. To tell her that everything would be alright.

He sat alone in that pod as those thoughts tore away at him. It was only through the blinking red lights flashing in the pod that took him out of his trance. A soft beeping noise pulsed every four seconds in his head. Noah lifted his head from the headrest and looked around. Four red lights illuminated his wrinkled face, waiting for the pod’s occupant to release the gas-bolts that were keeping him in this titanium coffin.

Noah checked the communications link to the Atacama one more time. Dead static. Alone, just like the universe always intended.

Noah punched the first gas-bolt, and it turned green. The system was still functional, meaning he was not trapped here. He punched another two gas-bolts, both turning green like the first. One final punch to the last gas-bolt, and the pod door shot open and forward. The door bounced off the trunk of a tree, ripping some of the bark before landing with a heavy thump.

Peeking out of the pod with caution, Noah was unsure if he was in hostile territory. Unwilling to exit the pod and be met with a faceful of plasma, he sat waiting with his sidearm in hand. He listened closely, but could only hear the sounds of birds returning to their nests and the calmness of a nearby stream.

Noah holstered his sidearm and grabbed the case from behind his seat. It was undamaged. He exited the safety of the pod and for the first time in decades, Noah set foot on his homeworld. His boots dug into the dirt path that had been carved by the pod’s crash. The soil was fresh and fertile, with a slight reddish-purple tint that gave Mazovia its characteristic look from space.

There was no way to tell where he was or how deep into the forest he was without any contact with the Atacama. But there was an unfamiliar familiarity when he looked around his surroundings. The city was to the north-east of the forest, and with a modest exhale, he began his journey in that direction.

. . .

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Chapter Seven

Noah Sówka

The Gepard

Mazovia

April 11, 2538

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+{{Annual Award/Novel|LoyalHaloFan|Thirteenth|2020}}
 {{Title|''Halo: Safewind''}}
 {{Writer|LoyalHaloFan}}