A/N: Hello everyone! I am so terribly sorry it has taken me this long to post this rewrite. Long story short, school has taken up much of my time, as well as my new obsessions on Alice in Wonderland and Transformers, and, of course, a long dose of writer's block. MLIA speaks for itself. Anyhow, though I am very sorry that it took this long to be written, hopefully you'll be glad to know that I have about 20k more written out. Just continue what you're doing best and be patient, as finding time to write, edit, and have Credete edit is challenging to find. To try and avoid writer's block I've been daydreaming and conjuring up new ideas for stories I am both working on, and those which will probably never be written. Unneccessary tidbit of information, Bio, good going. No one cares about what you're doing, just write dang it. Well, anywho, please enjoy and tell me if there's any improvement! I am going completely off-track from my original ideas.

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I tried and tried again. Nothing, static was the only reply.

Choking back a scream, the armored figure doubled over, fists slamming into the solid ground. Puffs of dust drifted up, spiraling upward while mixing with the deadly gases of the decaying world. The planet had recently been glassed, no more than a few years ago. The poisonous air whirled around the woman's helmet, gently probing the metal for a way in, promising a painful death if exposed.

There had to be a jammer, they had to have a jammer at that damned place! Why didn't she- A pang in the soldier's chest made her cringe, almost making her doubt the attempts at trying to reach humanity. She had been betrayed by her people, the ones she had been trained to protect all along.

She had… she had woken up from cryo. Scientists all around, each either holding clipboards or punching in codes for the command module, staring at her as her vision came into focus. The blurred vision, a side effect from the long sleep, faded, and she was met with apathetic stares. One certain man, slicked back hair with the scientific disk on his head and glasses that made his eyes huge and had ears too small for his face, had been in front of her. She had soon realized that he was her torturer.

First he had started getting her moving again once the freezer burn had melted, and then he started teaching the woman of 41 things she never knew. The truth behind ONI, the truth behind the ORION Project; she had thought that her parents had died, when in reality either they agreed to it or were kidnapped. She escaped when she learned that they were all true, but the facility was a lie.

She could remember back to after the augmentation-

Digging a knee into the dirt, she lifted herself up off of the ground with a grim face behind the golden shield. It wasn't time to reminisce on the negative, because no time could be wasted with petty thoughts. But the past pushed at her mind, silent voices speaking loudly in her ears.

The silhouette of the Spartan-II stood, the dark midday gleam of the sun outlining the dull green MJOLNIR armor, the golden HUD staring out at the deserted city on the horizon.

"What do you think is out there?" Bright gray eyes looked up at the branch above her, staring at the leg hanging a half meter from her head. The white sneaker was part of their 'civilian' uniform, but the bit of food leftover on it made her eye the shoe, but she refused to leave the comfortable spot to avoid the possible landing zone. It looked like it could either be mashed potatoes or the fake chicken they made. It was probably lemur. The thought made her miss the question, her mind focused on his shoe.

"Yeah?" She gave the food spot one last scrutinizing glance before looking at the bit of elbow that stood out from the bark. The day was a surprisingly warm one. It was early spring, the grass had just turned green but the chilled breeze of winter lingered on; the perfect day, for the worst night. The grass pushed up against her legs, brushing the undersides of her knees. Her little legs squirmed, ticklish.

"Ever wonder what it's like out there?" Her friend repeated the question, speaking more softly, making her listen. The serious undertone made her focus on her friend again, confusion pricking at her young mind. She looked out, and found her eyes landing on the high fence of the facility. That was why they had picked this particular tree of the forest training area, because it gave them the slightest glimpse of the life outside the walls. It was twenty feet high, and six feet thick the other kids would say, but from this spot on the hill it allowed them a small glimpse of the city a few hundred meters away from the secret facility.

"Civilian life?" She wrinkled her nose, finding the words falling from her tongue weirdly. Life outside their own little world wasn't spoken of quite often, but not a day went by where a passive thought didn't enter their ever-growing minds. "I don't know, never really thought about it that much." The instructors frowned upon questions of the outside life, and if they talked about it amongst each other, they were punished. They were always listening, always looking for some way to wipe away their childish thoughts to replace it with the soldiers they were to become.

"Yeah, bet it's pretty boring." He sighed, lying along the branch with his hands behind his head. "No guns, no training, must be hard being a civilian. I mean, what would you do? Laze around all day? Hang out with friends?" She thought he was going to say something else, but the message was clear. Again she was amazed with her friend. His tone held exhaustion, but the understanding was always something she looked up to. He always seemed so much older than she, so much wiser than her; so beyond his years.

"Then why were you asking?" They can't escape, not like Ralph-303, Daisy-023, Joseph-122 would in two months. Yearning settled in the pit of her stomach, making her itch to run to the cemented and heavily guarded fence and somehow get over it with her friend, escape and live a normal life, whatever a normal life included. She looked up at the tree leaves when he didn't reply. Closing her eyes, she accepted his silence as the loudest answer she had ever been given. The answer held so much weight to it, so much need and want, but knew that it was impossible to reach.

So she sat with Mannie, and enjoyed the time they had together while they could.

Gray eyes misted, feeling frustrated when she couldn't wipe them away. She licked her chapped lips, her boots treading in the dirt. Ash was kicked up; reminding her of the videos Déjà had shown them from the active volcanoes on Earth. They learned of Mt. Rainie, before learning of the infamous Pompey crisis. Now she believed that the 'dumb' AI was worried about their psychological states of mind and had tried leading it up to the tragedy. Bitterly, she wondered what happened to their digital teacher. If she had gone offline or if she had been deleted yet; either way she wouldn't put it past them to treat their teacher like a piece of machinery. To her creators she was just that, to the kids she was so much more.

The things she was taught at the facilities, both that she grew up in and the one she escaped, mixed and contradicted each other. Weren't they orphans? No, they had been kidnapped. Had their parents not have known that they had been kidnapped? No they had died, Dr. Halsey and Mendez saved us, brought us together as a family.

It was all lies, it was all the truth.

The Spartan shook her head, tired eyes staring on behind the golden HUD of her reflective helmet. She wasn't trained to doubt her superiors, but even betrayal crossed out that rule.

Walking along the destroyed highway, climbing over rubble from collapsed bridges, and dragging herself past the long since dead bodies, she could do nothing but simmer in her rage, and when she got tired of that, lose herself in her memories.

Over two months ago she had escaped from the research facility, ran away from the man with the too-big eyes and the too-little ears. Oh no, Spartans do not run away, but merely strategically retreat before making a counterattack. It's just taking her a while to come up with said countermeasures. She had never been good at counterattacks; her friend was the thinker of the pair.

Looking down at the ground, she absentmindedly kicked up dust with her steps. Kill them with fire? Tempting, but with the chemicals in the air it'd probably backfire. Cross off explosives.

She thought back to the research facility and the odd bug-eyed man. In her head she turned and looked at the files he held, back to her. It was about her, her history, and her genetics. But she ignored all of that this time. Instead, she had looked at the date of the file, and found that it had been an old one, back when she had been paralyzed. She didn't get to see all of it, but the word 'retrieved' had unsettled her. Had she caught some form of disease? The augmentation, among strengthening the body, was also supposed to strengthen the immune system for the worst illnesses. But because she had seen this file many times in her head, the unease had lessened. Besides, she was away from the facility. Even so, the 'out of sight, out of mind' theory did not work here.

Surviving the past few months had been rough, but that was what their training was about. In the back of her mind, a part of her hoped that this is just a very long training mission, and someone would pop out and say 'you fail!' and she has to start all over again after going through a training course a few hundred times. That hope was virtually crushed when no one had popped out of nowhere, the static had not become clear, and the jerky-looking bodies that had managed to be preserved from whatever warfare had happened here made her mood sour.

She had survived by scavenging, as much to her distain. Searching both destroyed and mysteriously still standing houses, she managed to find the little things: medical supplies, water, and cans of food, for a start. Of course she saw no need for any medical supplies now, as she hasn't seen another soul for one and a half months, and any open water she had found was contaminated. Raiding grocery stores proved fruitful, as any surviving water bottles had found her grateful. Preserved food didn't have much flavor, but it's all she has.

The tricky part is being able to eat in an uncontaminated place, and since yesterday morning it seemed that all her vents were filtering was poisonous gas. Her stomach twisted as her tongue, dry and thick, tried wetting her lips. The muscle felt tingly and scarred, and her stomach was trying to eat itself. It left a bad taste on her lips and in her mouth, making her grimace.

She sighed, rubbing her fingertips together subconsciously, unable to feel the simple motion.

She doesn't remember when she was fitted with the MJOLNIR armor, just that the scientists at the research facility hadn't known how to operate it. She was informed that some had tried and broke their bones. She sprained three ribs just trying to breathe in it. It took a lot of concentration, and after breaking her hand and a couple bones in a leg, she figured out that she has to will herself to move and the suit will follow. Of course escaping with the newly acquired armor had proven difficult, the experience was a benefit.

Now, like her brothers, it now feels like a second skin. Whenever she eats she feels uncomfortable having to take off the helmet, as training always prohibited removing your helmet during a training operation. But this wasn't training she didn't think, and there was no one else on the planet so far that she could see. Maybe it was because of the poisonous gas that took up presence here on this world, maybe it was the enemy she couldn't see but felt. Or maybe she was just being paranoid; she had to stop doing that.

She put a hand to her helmet, clicking into the radio to the voices of humanity, but only got static in return.

It had only been a week after the two month mark and she knew that she was already losing it. She had been in one place for too long, even though she hadn't. Yes, she had wandered; never being in the same exact spot, but it was all the same wherever she went. Either poisonous empty lands or small towns left in ruins. From what she could see was that whoever had been left behind were either piles of ash or burnt jerky rolled in dirt and sand.

Her mind had started wandering around in the past as her feet took her to the bland future. She knew that supplies were low, and getting motivation to go looking for more was starting to become a bigger chore. It took hours of scavenging just to find a decent amount.

That night she stayed in what was left of a small town that couldn't have had more than ten thousand people once. It reminded her of movie night, of the apocalypse (that never had happened until colonies started disappearing and the planets were destroyed much like this one) and how everyone turned into zombies. Normally there was a small group of people who managed to somehow to survive and go looking for others, but wander into a town such as this and get ambushed. Normally there is a pretty girl, and then a less than pretty girl; you can guess which one gets eaten first.

The town made her on edge, even when she had checked most of the housing district out while scavenging for supplies. She managed to find two water bottles, three cans of corned beef, and a can of cat food. Now she wasn't that picky, but even cat food didn't sound good to her. Her supplies now consisted of four and a half bottles of water, two cans of corned beef, a can of bread (she was actually a bit excited with this one), the cat food, and a bag of freeze dried fruit. She hadn't eaten nor drank for eighteen hours, the air too poisonous to take off her helmet and replenish her energy. The last time she ate she had eaten the corned beef just outside the town she had stayed at and drank half a bottle of water. Now she was feeling lightheaded and her stomach cramped.

Since leaving the research center she had to drastically cut back on her supplies, but only after ignorantly wasting her water and food. She had gorged herself for the first few nights after her scavenging, but now that it was getting harder to find edible things, she regretted her actions horribly. She had contemplated turning back and going another way when the air seemed to be getting more and more poisonous in areas, but she worked through her mind that other parts of this region were probably the same and that once she got through it she'd hit clean air soon. If she hadn't been so straightforward, she would have realized that no clean air meant no food or water.

She was so stupid! She should have prepared- she should have known that… that… cripes if only her team was here with her. A pang made the Spartan pause in her walk, a wince taking up the shielded face. If she had listened… paid attention… her teammates would have known, would have prepared. Biting her lip, she narrowed her eyes. She wouldn't cry. It had been years since she had seen either of them. But even still, the pain was as fresh as the day when she had heard the news.

It had been the same thing every day, gasps of pain, grunting, and even crying. She knew by now that she was in a place where everyone was in pain, but she couldn't figure out why. She had remembered… a training mission, one that involved rescuing a group of civilians from a group of terrorists. It was in the last stages of the first step of training, so no one really knew what it would be, but there was a rumor that it was something big.

The mission had been a complete failure. The civilians had been bait for an ambush, and she had rushed into the situation, ignoring her teammate's warnings. Another had run after her, trying to stop the Spartan from reaching the civilians. It was her fault he died- Raaja had stepped on one of the many landmines surrounding the terrified tied-up civilians. She had barely pulled through, Mannie dragging her sorry hide back to the shuttle with the help of the marines they had for backup. If it wasn't for her and her stupid mistakes, Raaja would've been alive. If she had died that day…

But he could have taken her place at the facility, just like another Spartan was unfortunate enough to share her fate. She didn't know if there really was another Spartan there with her, she couldn't look, but the scientists had repeated threats of harming him if she didn't cooperate. She hadn't looked for him when she escaped, and now she feared that another of her brothers had died because of her mistakes.

During the months of solitude and prolonging the plans of countermeasures, she had a lot to think about. Her existence, like many humans had thought about, the fate of the world, what if this happened differently or what if that happened instead of this; even the whole Spartan program. She wondered if she was supposed to turn out the way she had. Not any trauma she might have endured, the experiments, but the physical aspect of the Spartan body she has been made into.

Of course, the muscles had shrunk over the time in the facility, but were still there, and her ribs were showing beneath the suit, and she could feel her cheeks rub against her jaw a bit too tightly, but overall was she supposed to learn how to be… be a hero? Had she really failed as she thought, or was she the misfit amongst perfections?

She remembered how they were like when they were kids, when the family was still all together. How they had dreamed of their future selves and what they thought they would end up like. Now it seemed silly, but back then it was all they had to keep smiling.

When it was bedtime they whispered their fantasies. Some thought that they'd be upgraded somehow, get inhumane powers like heat-vision or something. Others believed that they would finally be able to go on missions with real soldiers and show them how it's done.

A few even thought that they were the next generation of civilians, and were going to be released back into civilization, one believed that their families would be in the same room when they were released, and welcome them back with open arms. Wishful thinking, but considering how cruel some of the trainers have been, it wasn't impossible.

They normally had whispered conversations when the trainers were changing shifts, the precious minutes twice a night were treasured, for it was the only true times they had to themselves. All other times were either monitored or they weren't all together, always on small side jobs or training missions, they loved the time when the whole family was together.

The thoughts of the more recent past- two decades before the freezing- pushed its way into her head. Her guarded knees hit the ground without her noticing, the pain in her chest growing with each second in the unforgiving world.

As she stared up at the same ceiling tiles as she had when she'd woken up yesterday, she heard a few people walk around. Within the time of disorientation, she had still managed to memorize the patterns of the popcorn textured rectangles. An ache in her chest spread throughout her immobilized body, distracting her immensely. It was… painful, more painful than she had ever felt.

The people who were free of their physical restraints… they couldn't have been her roommates. Their strides were too easy, too loose to have been in pain recently. It had to be the nurses making their rounds. She heard a rustle of cloth, a hand grabbing an arm. The gasp of surprise indicated that a patient –prisoner— had gathered enough strength to get a nurse's attention, the rasp in their breathing- it had to be a guy, the tone was too deep- was concerning as it was.

"I…" Deep breaths, a rattle in his chest. "Where are….?" The last word was pitched high, pain rippling through his being. The sentence couldn't be finished, but it was spoken for him. Fhajad? The sound distorted his voice- but it was definitely Fhajad. A burst of warmth spread through her tired body, the sound of her brother giving her strength in the time of pain and confusion.

"You're in the infirmary." She didn't get it, but most civvies wouldn't, even if they had watched us grow they wouldn't know what it's like to be part of the family. The ache in her chest was missing something, it felt... empty.

"No… Where…" He coughed, a grimace on his face. "Where… others." There was a pause, the nurse finding the words to say.

"They're in another recovering room, some are even getting back to training." Her voice was too girlie, too perky. Fhajad's breathing was raspy, shallow and quick. The strength in him was dying, but a Spartan's determination was never to be underestimated.

"No… others." What she couldn't see was that his eyes were open, watery and pained but so full of life and dead at the same time, something that was torn from those she couldn't feel. "They…" He groaned, cringing. "Who died?" This shocked her. Someone had died? Who? What happened before… before… what happened? The silence was heavy, a burden. She didn't like it, she wanted it gone. Somebody say something! Please, anything! The ominous feeling had her wanting the silence to return, just anything but this!

"I'm sorry… some didn't survive the operation."

"Who?" The boy soon to become a man, her brother, asked.

"Well… there's no easy way to say their names." She felt a pair of eyes on her, a brief feeling, but it made her skin crawl nonetheless. What were they keeping from her? Her eyes strained, trying to move but unable. The breathing machine continued its steady pace, but the perspiration on her brow made her feel sticky.

A sigh cut through the growing panic, but only managed to slow it down for a mere second. Suddenly she started running through the list of the dead, her tone dropping dramatically, not knowing that in the room only three Spartans were awake to listen to what she had to say. She spoke in codes- or what seemed to be codes at first. But immediately she had worked out that they were their codes, their military names. Burt, Naomi, Jake- wait, no… that…

Something rocked the bed she laid on, shaking it violently once; then twice. Panic overwhelmed the disabled Spartan as her body shook uncontrollably, the muscles in spasm as her mind overloaded. It couldn't be- she lies! The bitch lies! Mannie can't be…

He can't be dead!