Hello, readers. This is my first fic, so… yeah. I'm going to attempt to show the first game from a different angle. Read and review. Please.

Halo, its characters, locations, settings, backgrounds, need I go on, are all property of Bungie and Microsoft.

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Chapter 1: Angelic Awakening

Emergency Thaw Commencing. The voice had a soft touch to it, almost angelic in the way it was presented. It had seemed to come from a long way away, but he had no trouble hearing it. A voice without a source. A dream, for once, that didn't involve the constant horror of war. It was almost peaceful. Wait… there were no dreams in cryo. It wasn't REM sleep.

Emergency Thaw Complete. That was odd. The voice seemed closer, somehow, as if it were now in front of him, but all he could see was blackness. More noises, now, a faint whimpering that he could hear, though its source was still unknown. The odd thought that it could be the same source as the angelic voice came to mind, but he wasn't awake enough to wonder. Eventually, Mattew-115's eyes flickered open, but still all he could see was blackness. He found this very odd.

His mind was playing tricks on him. It must be because of the emergency thaw, the one the voice had mentioned. Where was that voice now? A hiss, and now he could see faint spots of light. Something seemed to retreat from him, swinging outwards. He leaned forward, stepping out of the cryo tube. He was still disoriented, unusual for a SPARTAN, but it wasn't in his control. Or was it?

He breathed deeply, allowing oxygen to reach his brain, and regain consciousness. There was a dull pain; his whole body seemed to hurt, before he remembered that's what happened when you went into cryo wearing anything. He could handle it. Now, the lights? He frowned, allowing the implants in his brain to switch on the flashlight in his helmet. Suddenly, he could see a small circle of dull grey wall paneling. The whimper escalated to a cry, which faded into nothing.

A quick glance around showed him what he didn't want to see: bodies, human, scattered around the chamber. There were a few scattered grunts, and even an elite, but it was obvious the battle had been one-sided. Most of the casualties looked like technicians, which made sense, considering the location. A few marines had tried to hold off the invaders, but they had obviously failed. The Chief Petty Officer bent down and retrieved the assault rifle and ammo of the nearest one.

He heard the whimper again and glanced around sharply, only seeing bodies. Then, unexpectedly, one stirred. With surprisingly quiet steps, once you considered his size and weight, Matt approached the woman, who was laid out against the bulkhead. She glanced up at him with frightened eyes, then turned and hid her head. She probably thought he was an alien, come to finish the job. He noticed the patch on her arm, she was a technician, and her rank: Petty Officer Second Class. His voice held no emotion as he spoke, "Easy, Petty Officer."

Matt saw her jerk in surprise and look up. In the darkened room, all she could see was his light, blinding her to everything else. Suddenly, a green gauntlet extended out of the darkness, and she hesitated only a second before she placed her hand in his, and allowed herself to be lifted to her feet. Now that he could see her face, he could almost easily place her Irish descent, from the short red hair and the freckles, to the stunning green eyes. Eyes that still held no little fear.

She must have recognized who, and what, he was, because she managed a shaky salute, which he promptly returned. Her words were as shaky as her hand, "Petty Officer Second Class Kasey Lynch, sir." He nodded his response; she needed no hint to know who he was. Matt glanced around again, spotting the observation theater and the doors. There was something bothering him, but he couldn't place it, so he turned back to Lynch. She seemed frozen, almost lost, in the darkness.

"Status, Lynch." His demand was curt, but not loud. He didn't want to scare her, just get her thinking again. She seemed a little dazed as she looked up at him, without response. He turned the light out of her eyes, but she remained quiet, so he went over to one of the doors. It had been damaged, so it was easy to get handholds and pry the thing open. The hall outside was as dark as the inside. The power was out.

He strode out, and heard Lynch's footsteps behind him. At least she would keep up. He continued down the hall, which was becoming brighter thanks to a fire raging ahead. He stepped around it, coming to another door. Here he had to stop, though, as another door blocked his path. He heard boots on the other side. He turned off his light, moving up to the door. His weapon was slung across his back, so he placed his helmet right up to the crack in the door.

An elite patrolled the hall, seemingly bored. Apparently he had helped take the ship, though he wondered why the elite was even there. He wondered why they were still in one piece, if they were dead in space. Were the covenant looking for something?

Moments later, the elite turned his back on the door, patrolling down the hall. Matt stepped back, and then ran though the door, knocking it open. Before the elite could even spin, he brought his fist to the alien's back. The shields flared and died, and the momentum of his blow brought his fist crashing into the spine. It cracked, and the elite fell down dead. With a quick check to make sure he was dead, the Chief pocketed both of the elite's grenades. He liked the sticky little things, and was a very good shot with them.

It took nearly an hour to get to the front of the ship, where the bridge was. There were few patrols, but entire sections were blocked, and the ship was deathly quiet. The Petty Officer with Matt trailed along, trying to recover her thoughts. She seemed like she was in shock, and wasn't divulging any of their situation. He'd have to have someone talk to her, if they ever found an officer.

Matthew stepped onto the bridge almost fearfully, wondering what he might find. There were a few bodies scattered about, but Matt ignored them and went up to the large glass window at the fore of the bridge. The first thing he noticed was that the glass was gone. The second thing he saw was the fact that they were on a planet, not above it. Now he understood; the ship was in ruins after the crash. He glanced at Lynch, but she seemed as stunned as him to be staring out the open window.

Suddenly, there was a noise behind him, like a crackling. His gun was out and scanning before he even finished his turn. Nothing but a flashing light could be seen. Wait, flashing light? Matt stepped around the tactical screen, to the AI projector. It was turned on, now, but the power was so low that he could hardly distinguish the figure floating in the place. "Cortana?" he asked, moving his head closer. This seemed to wake the Petty Officer, and she glanced quickly over.

The image solidified, as much as holograms were solid, and he could finally make out details. It wasn't Cortana. He recognized the wings and halo as belonging to the AI that had been slanted to operate the ship, before the Master Chief had come on board. Seraphim. She looked like any mundane officer of the navy, decked out in dress whites, except that her hair was longer than regs, down to her mid-back, she had large, feathery wings that disappeared off to both sides and curved back in, as if the wings were curved forward, and a halo, tilted forward and to the side.

"Status report, Sera." Matt was right down to business.

Seraphim smiled at Matt, pleased to see him. "Mattew-115, good to see you up and about." She noticed his lack of response and sighed, before speaking again, "Approximately 1 hour 46 minutes ago, the Autumn crash landed on an alien ring." Matt tilted his head at the word 'ring', and the tactical screen flickered to life, showing a recording of Installation 04. "The cause," she continued, "was a Covenant cruiser. It appears that they were waiting for us to come out of Slipspace. The ship was abandoned and Master Chief took Cortana. No one had the thought to activate me, though. Not important enough…?"

Matt waited for her to go on, and she did. "Cortana's subroutine brought us in. Losing power, I was brought online by emergency procedures. I routed what little power there was, and myself, to this station, and then woke you up." Matt now recalled the angelic voice. Apparently angelic had been the right word. He noticed that Seraphim had turned to Lynch, who was still in a state of shock. "Petty Officer Lynch, how are you faring?"

The poor girl seemed startled that she had been addressed, and answered in a voice that at least sounded better than it had before. "I'm, I'm fine. It's just, this was my first, uh, tour." It was all very traumatic, Matt could tell, for someone as unseasoned as her, this was pretty bad. He wasn't very good with people, only ever interacting with other SPARTANS, and couldn't think of anything supportive to say.

Seraphim didn't have the same reservations, however. "Well, sailor, you better get with it if you want to make it out alive." This seemed to startle Lynch into action, as her hand fell to the pistol holstered at her side. Matthew nodded thankfully, and then jumped with surprise as Seraphim disappeared. There was a flashing light next to the little chip that could carry the AIs. He reached over and pulled out the chip, sliding it into the slot at the base of his skull.

"Sorry, the power on the projector was depleted. We can go now." Matt turned to Lynch and nodded at her, she nodded back, a new determination on her face. Apparently it cheered her up that someone other than the quiet SPARTAN had made it out alive, even if it wasn't a person, per say. The two humans and their artificial friend hurried off the ship, stopping only for some field rations before heading out on a Warthog. Their goal was now painfully obvious: survive.