AN: This is my take on life today in reality and in our future on this planet. Of course combined with a favourite game; HALO. Hopefully I'll have balanced some of my darker thoughts with light fantasy. Enjoy, and please, review! Dieu et mon Droit!

Chapter One

The Desert out here was like an ocean. The sand dunes rose like waves in to the purple night sky. The heat shimmered like mist on the horizon. But it was not all good. The desert played tricks. A simple branch could become a gun barrel in less than a second, a friendly guard would become an enemy insurgent. It was a tough place to soldier, but I'd seen worse. Been worse. My contractor, Schemen Kompanie, was assigned here until 2077, but we all knew we'd be dead or out of work long before then. The Oil Wars were talked of every day. Slowly our resources were running out. War was coming. Whether you liked it or not there was no Pacifist on this Earth any more. For our race, Humanity, lived by the sword and as such would die by the sword. Sorry. I know I went off subject there. The reason I talk of the Oil War is because, I guard one of the most important pieces of infrastructure seen in Human history, the Turkish oil pipe; Baku – Tbilisi – Ceyhan. The life vein which supplied the West with their oil. Had this line been any further south the conflict in my homeland of Israel, and Syria would've started war long before today. My name is Yilmaz. I am an Israeli-German brought up in Germany where I lived for most of my life. Aged 18 I joined the German Army and after serving for 3 years I joined FSLK and my brethren in the German Elite. It was the toughest 16 months of my life. Recruitment in FSLK was strenuous and overseen by instructors not only from Germany but from Russian Spetznaz, and the best of the best; British SAS. After serving my time, I continued to help my country. When the UN approached my nation requesting peacekeepers to send to the fragile oil pipes in the middle east. Politically, Germany agreed and sent 400 Infantry men and women from the regular army. However, under the table, German military and political elite held a conference and agreed the restraints that bound UN Peacekeepers would do little for any nation if war broke out. So Schemen Kompanie was created. A 'privately' owned Security company of which I was a part of. My reminiscence was broken when Klaus, a colleague of mine tapped me on the shoulder and relieved me of the watch. It was another's turn to guard the fragile shell that contained what might as well be liquid money and what kept peace in an equally fragile world.

Hurriedly I walked back to the barracks and sat down at the table with a shot of White Russian. BBC News was on. The best news corps in the world, I thought to myself. It was the same old stories, Oil, shortages, football. Thinking of footy, I leant forward making note of the scores. We'd won 2-0! Against Bayern as well, that wasn't too bad. It might've been 2 hours and 6 shots later that I heard someone enter the dorm.

" Hallo?"

"Sorry I don't speak German. Do you speak English?"

I still had not turned from my position in the chair. I had my feet resting on the table and my arse planted in a seat. I was comfy. Why should I move for this guy? As I casually made ready to respond, I rolled straight off the chair and onto the floor in a haze of Vodka and stiffness. Dammit. I'd made a fool of myself. As I looked up, my situation seemingly sunk lower. Just my luck. This was no guy. She was a woman. Mumbling to myself I remembered I'd never really been that good with women. What I wanted to say was 'Sorry. I think I've had a bit too much of this, would ya like some?' what came out was an 'ouergghh' moan as I realized that the Brunette whose face I was looking into was one of the single best looking women I'd ever seen. But maybe that was the drink talkin'. Finally, gathering what little wit I had I managed to say;

"I'm so sorry."

A smile seemed to play across the woman's lips.

"No need for the apology. Mind if I get a shot?"

Nodding I stood up and brushed myself down. I sat once more at the seat, across from the newcomer. She wore a pair of silver rimmed aviators with a purple shade that obscured her eyes but for a little glint. Her hands were utterly steady as she poured two shots, not so much as a twitch.

"Here"

She pushed a shot glass across to me, full with plain, cold Vodka. The stranger, whom I yet seemed to remember, studied me. I shrugged empathetically and turned to the TV. I could still feel her eyes on the back of my neck. Within seconds the News came to an end I switched off the TV and silence engulfed us. Through the mosquito netting I could see the Sun setting on the horizon. So strange here in the Middle East, the sun always seemed to sink below the skyline in a haze of purple rather than blue. It was a nice strange though. One I hoped I could enjoy, at least for now. Sighing I looked at the shot and at hers. Both were still full. In silence she raised her own glass to me and in a silent salute we both downed them. As I lowered my glass to the table I felt a sudden wave of nausea hit me. A tiredness that was wiping me off my feet with the blows of a sledgehammer. The woman across from me took no concern and lowered her shades a little revealing deep blue eyes. Strangely as I drifted into unconsciousness, I noted her brown hair was faded blond at the roots. Strange. Especially for a final thought as I entered the plains of alternative reality...