Here for your reading pleasure is the first chapter of our sort-of-sequel story for Chemical Imbalance! This one follows Carolina and Church a little while after they left the reds and blues. I don't want to say much more, since you've probably already read it in the summary, but it's gonna be a kickass adventure that I'm sure you'll all love. Also, even more important is that it is co-written by my dear friend (and boyfriend) lilfoxkit. The main idea for this story is all his, and it's been a true honor to be able to write it with him.

Anyway, please enjoy and feel free to let us know what you think.

A chill ran down Major Reclin's spine as he peered down at his holo-pad. He had just received two messages, and he couldn't help but feel they were slightly connected. One was from a former colleague and school mate, informing him that another associate, Dr. Leonard Church, had been found dead at an abandoned facility from his project. The other was a subpoena from his commanding officer, ordering a report about his involvement with an old associate by the name of Dr. Han. Both Dr. Church and Dr. Han, as well as himself, had been directors of research projects during the war. Han had also been branded a war criminal and was the most recent target of the UNSC. It was a shame, really; the three of them had studied psychology at one of Earth's more prestigious universities together. Now they all seemed to have gone rogue in one way or another.

Tapping his index finger against the blinking light of his tablet, his aged face split with a soft smile. While regrettable, he couldn't say this was a surprise. He'd expected something like this for some time now, and was already prepared.

Standing up, the officer walked out of his dimly lit room, only to halt at a sealed door. It took him a moment to enter the code on the door before, with a soft hiss, the door slid open, allowing the Major to enter. He looked at the two beings strapped against sterile looking operating tables; one was a rather large gray, leathery skinned creature who was struggling against his restraints like a madman, while its companion stared silently at the doctor. The Major took a moment to lay a hand on the creature's shoulder, murmuring soft reassurances until it calmed down. He then approached the second being, which was of a much more human nature, appearing to be in his late forties. The patients name and rank were listed on the tablet in the Major's hands, reading Senior Master Sergeant Dylan T. Derara, USNC Air Force.

"It's good to see you again, mi Mayor," Derara greeted, sounding almost happy. He then paused, his countenance suddenly changing like he'd remembered something important. Blinking a few times, he continued in a monotone. "Is there something you require of Number 443 and Number 444 today?"

Major Reclin sighed at the change in demeanor. He rather enjoyed number 443, considering the Sergeant to be one of his better products from Project Heretic. He could never completely break the man's cultural identity, though in the aftermath of the war and his project, he considered this a blessing; it helped the Major consider that there may have been hope of rehabilitating his men someday.

"Oh, nothing today Dylan," he said with false casualness, waving his hand. "I just need to perform a routine inspection of your cybernetic implants." He felt bad for the small lie, though it was mostly true. He needed to make sure all of his patients were in the best possible condition for what was planned.

The brainwashed soldier responded by closing his eyes and waiting for the Major to perform the surgery. While he only needed to check one of them, Reclin always made sure that both subject 443 and 444 were together during surgeries and check-ups. During the war, he'd forced a psychological bond between the pair as a precaution against escape, as well as increase their efficiency on missions together. Were they to be separate for too long, there could be… alarming repercussions.

The Major picked up a sharp looking scalpel, only to place it rather swiftly against the man's head. As blood oozed onto the floor, both humans remained deathly still as the screams of the Sangheili echoed throughout the room. The creature itself had been known to sustain major injuries during battle without showing much concern, but its attitude was far different when its partner was harmed. Major Reclin wished he could do something to calm the creature, but he knew it was best if he simply completed his work as quickly as possible. Nothing else would ease the Alien's mind.

Grunting, the Major peeled back the skin with his bare fingers. Throughout the muscles of the airman's skull, various metallic devices could be seen, some branching out in a tentacle-like fashion, others stopping abruptly to make a cracked spider web pattern.

"All right Sergeant, everything appears to be in order," he reported. As he spoke, blood splattered onto Reclin's shoes, causing him to look up at his patients head wound in concern.

"Thank you, sir. Number 443 requesting medical assistance. Status: Number 443 has minor head wound and losing blood pressure," said Sergeant Derera in an empty voice.

"Oh, sorry," the Major said quickly, truly regretting that he'd had to do this to the agent. Once again he looked with disgust and remorse at the abomination he'd made of this man before picking up a circular device.

Pulling the trigger, the device began to glow a queer green color while the wound started to heal up at a rather rapid pace. Leaning over Sergeant Derara's body, he released the restraints upon the man, leaving the soldier to release his partner as he exited the room, hearing the soldier make soothing noises at the distraught creature. Pacing back over to his desk, the Major glanced down at his tablet once again. Yet another message was displayed, though this time the Major hadn't been expecting anything.

Tapping it open, bright large white words flashed on the screen. "THEY ARE COMING STOP. RUN STOP."

The Majors' face paled. They had been found. He always knew his job would catch up with him one day. Still, he had time before the authorities arrived, or at least he hoped he did. The Major was stationed out on an Arctic based planet, being contained within an older military base that had been recycled to him for his research and Project Heretic as a whole. The base was created during the Great War as an observational post, only to be transformed into a training facility, then finally a research laboratory.

As the blood rushed back into the Majors' face, he quietly walked into the laboratory, seeing that the pair bond were standing at attention. "Get the others, we are leaving base," He ordered. At the Majors word, the alien and human bolted out of the surgical room at inhuman speeds, presumably to get suited up and deliver the news to the other agents. The Major had other things to attend to before they could leave, such as copying over data, shutting down the facility and preparing an escape vehicle.

Rushing over to a nearby computer console, the Major quickly typed in select commands into the holographic keyboard; instantly, the screen lit up in a blaze of colors, swirling around in a small dance as the pixels shifted. Then, just as quick as it came, the screen faded into a black color indicating that the system had been shut down. He had to hurry; if he was found, everything he fought for would be lost. The doors to his personal office opened as 443 and 444 stood once more at attention in their BDUs. Two other bonded units, each consisting of a mix of aliens and humans, followed them.

"Sir, before system destruction, sensors indicate that enemy eta is twenty minutes. Orders?"

"I need you and T-3 to prepare for evacuation," Reclin instructed. When he noticed some of the agents shift nervously, he added. "Don't worry. I'll join you soon."

"Si, my Mayor."

Just after the duo left, a loud explosion echoed throughout the base; the enemy had arrived sooner than expected. Muttering a curse under his breath, the Major quickly began transferring the remaining data from his holo-tablet into his implants, urging it to go faster despite the physical impossibility. One of the aliens in the remaining groups whined, indicating it wanted him to hurry. More rumbles were heard throughout the base as the last of the data transferred. With great haste, the Major ran out into the vehicle bay and aboard a Pelican-class drop ship, followed closely by his patients. With the Director on board, the engines fired up and skirted out of the base, barely missing the enemy soldiers entering the bay.

Looking over at the beast sitting in the seat next to him, the Major placed a gentle hand upon its head.

"Don't worry, T-3," he said comfortingly, recognizing the creature's nervousness. "We know what to do. We've planned for this. Just follow my lead."

In response the alien let out a soft whining noise as it nuzzled against the Majors hand. Reclin let out a long sigh, even with what little support their group had, he had a bad feeling about the future to come.