Date Unknown
Location Unknown
Time Unknown
When a conscious awareness of her surroundings returned to Chao, she initially believed herself to be dead. One could generously describe time travel as an imprecise science, if one could even describe it as a science at all. In all her experimentations with time travel, the longest jump being seven hours away from her starting point, she had concluded that, generally, one returned to the normal flow of time in the exact location in which they had left it. And for her, that presented the distinct problem that she would be returning to where the hangar bay of the Athens was. Or had been. Or would have been.
Temporal mechanics made even her head hurt.
She knew she had neglected to input a destination time, so she had no way of even knowing if she was in the past or the future. Or if she had managed to completely destroy the timestream and was doomed to floating in a neverending abyss. If she had gone into the past, prior to the construction of the Athens, then she should have come back in empty space, only to suffer the joys of explosive decompression. Or flash-boiling, or instant freezing, depending on whether she was in direct sunlight or shadowed by a celestial mass. For a brief moment, she wondered whether one would suffer decompression or temperature shock first, but quickly wiped that morbid thought from her head. She had no knowledge, and no desire to learn first-hand.
Alternatively, if she had skipped ahead past the destruction of the Athens, for she held no illusion that the entire Malta/Athens/Cairo battle cluster would be spared the fate of the Malta, then she still had the issue of hard vacuum to contend with.
When she opened her eyes, she then believed that she'd taken a stray plasma bolt to the face that she'd failed to notice that had blinded her. She found herself lying flat on her back on an endless white plain, with no discernible difference between any existing walls, ceiling, or floor.
No, not entirely on her back. She could sense the distinct sensation of floating in some sort of liquid medium that was likewise as white and invisible as her surrounding environment. The clinical portion of her mind noted the numerous consistencies shared between floating in water and floating in zero gravity. She could tell, at the very least, that she was floating on her back in the liquid, rather than fully immersed in it, first and foremost by her continued ability to breathe. Second to this was the noticeable difference in moisture saturation between her front and her back.
Before she could contemplate what she should be doing, or how to determine where, or more accurately, when, she was, her motion tracker detected movement. Like the other civilians filling highly-important jobs within the UNSC, she carried a portable motion tracker connected to a microcomputer built into her clothing. When the tracker detected movement, the computer caused a row of vibrating discs sewn into the fiberweave to vibrate in the direction the movement was coming from. When programmed to ignore motion connected to friendly IFF codes, the system she used was a handy workaround to the fact that soldiers could not generally equip a motion tracker without having a helmet HUD for a radar display to appear on.
Her right hand, slowed by the drag of the liquid she was floating in, reached for the M6D pistol as her head came up to look in the direction of the motion. As her fingers closed over the cool metal of the weapon, she looked about frantically, unable to locate the source of her contact.
The touch was at first so gentle she couldn't be sure that she wasn't imagining it, but she soon came to fully sense the clinical touch probing the plasma burns on the backs of her legs. Plasma injuries to human skin were atrocious, painful things, but as she felt the fingers turning and rubbing the charred skin, she felt not one iota of pain.
"Severe third-degree burns on both legs, deep enough to cause nerve and musculature damage," an elderly voice spoke to her from everywhere and nowhere at once, both surrounding her and speaking inside her own head. "These burns appear to have been caused by temperatures in excess of several thousand degrees, but there's no indication of any burns or damage outside of the localized area. No doubt, that if you were forced to rely upon the standard medical procedures of the day, you would never walk again. Fortunately for you, the healing properties of the Lifestream will have you fully healed in no time."
Wetting her lips with her tongue, she quietly inquired, "Nainai?"
As far as she could see, there was still no one anywhere in her immediate area and yet, when the voice answered her, she knew that its owner was smiling in amusement. "Many children know me as grandmother, but you are not amongst their number. Fear not, child of the future, for you are safe here. Yes, I know that you do not belong in this time. Fate smiles upon you."
"The Covenant..."
"Are on the other side of the galaxy and still fighting amongst themselves, as far as we know or care," the voice informed her. Sensing Chao's confusion, it continued, "The Lifestream in which you are immersed has granted I, the Yochi no Kouken, the ability to view and witness the strongest emotional moments in your life. I have seen the wonders and horrors that await humanity close to six hundred years into the future.
Chao abruptly sat upright, surprising herself to find that she could actually 'sit' as though this 'Lifestream' were a solid surface. "Six hundred years!?"
"Calm yourself, child. You are in the year 1997. Fate intended you to be brought to this general era, but even Fate cannot accurately place such a tremendous jump in time. Your talents and efforts are not needed for many more years, for those whom you will both fight against and fight alongside have not yet awakened to their own destiny. A great destiny awaits you, your stop here being merely a pebble in the pond, setting great events in motion."
As the voice spoke, Chao felt the familiar weight of Casseiopeia being lifted from her person, and watched the magical time machine float in the air before her, spinning slowly on its chain.
"This wondrous device will play many crucial roles where you must go. Some of these will be caused by your own hand, others will not. Trust your heart to know when and where your destiny will guide your hand. Farewell, Chao Lingshen. Remember always, that you possess the heart of a Hero."
---
October 20, 2005
Class 1-A, Mahora Academy for Girls
0725 hours, local time
Takahata Takamichi cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the twenty-eight girls in his class and quieting the usual early-morning rabble. One by one, each student turned her attention to their teacher, and the girl they did not know, wearing a Mahora uniform, who stood beside him. Their curiosity was soon sated as the chain-smoking teacher lifted his left hand toward the Chinese girl.
"Girls, this young lady will be joining this class as of today. Her name is Chao Lingshen, and I hope you will all make her feel welcome in 1-A."
Chao bowed at the waist toward the class, then smiled broadly and said, "It is an honor to attend classes with all of you. I wish that we can all become friends and graduate together."
She had been back in the 'normal' timestream for two years. Upon being sent forward by that mysterious voice, she had found herself a guest of an island nation she had learned was called MolMol. And to her surprise, the plasma burns had been almost fully healed when she arrived on the island. The small amount of physical therapy that was all that remained had been provided to her, free of charge, by the MolMolian authorities.
In return for their kindness, she had given them the design schematics, which she had memorized, for several weapons and vehicles in use by the UNSC; namely the Warthog light reconnaissance vehicle, the BR55HB battle rifle, and the MA5C assault rifle, to name a few. She knew that it went against all intelligent rules of the space-time continuum to deliver future technology into the hands of the people in the past, but she didn't care. If humans had access to the UNSC's technology now, then in six hundred years they should have something a lot better to fight off the Covenant.
"Chao-san, you will be in seat 19," Takahata was saying. "As for the rest of you girls, why don't you introduce yourselves to help make Chao-san feel more welcome."
At the front right of the class, a girl with red hair pulled into a spiked bun behind her head stood up and waved to Chao, grinning amiably. "Number Three, Asakura Kazumi."
Cold, spikey adrenaline shot through the time traveling girl as the redhead gave her name. Hell of a coincidence. This...Private Asakura, this girl is his ancestor?
She closed her eyes, and suddenly she was back in the hangar bay of the Athens, watching the needless death of the Marines playing out again. Only this time she could see perfectly over Private Asakura's shoulder...
Witnessing him advance in a crouch toward the breached doors, plasma fire streaking over his head and spattering against cargo crates and the Pelican's landing gear.
The Marine went to a knee behind a cargo crate tall enough to afford that super-soldier, Spartan-117, full cover even when standing upright, and chucked a grenade around the corner. A knot of grunts were blown into the sky by the explosion, and Asakura stared down the thermal-imaging scope of his battle rifle to see through the smoke and pour three-round bursts into the head of a fully-shielded Elite, forcing the alien to duck back through the doorway.
At the exact moment that he stooped back to swap magazines, a live plasma grenade sailed through the air to land directly equidistant between himself and Private Kugimia. The blue orb clicked as it made contact with the ground, then began to hiss ominously.
"Look out, grenade!" he cried, then jumped to his feet and leapt out and away from the grenade.
In perfect clarity, Chao watched as the Elite that Asakura had been bombarding stepped back into the room, clutching twin needlers it had appropriated from two of the fragged grunts. The blue-armored alien narrowed its eyes at the human's dodging form, and leveled the needlers,holding its fingers down on the trigger to empty both weapons at the human.
Pink crystalline shards embedded themselves into the marine, driving their full length into the ceramic body armor and into the soft tissue beneath. His eyes going wide in terror and sudden realization, Asakura muttered, "Oh fu-" before the needles exploded, shredding the marine in a pink mist.
By the time the flashback ended, a number of other girls had already introduced themselves. Chao was sure that the usefully-automatic portions of her mind had logged their names, but reliving that experience, even though it had been two years ago, to her mind, was captivating her full attention.
Just getting up was a girl with some of her shoulder-length black hair pulled into a short ponytail on the right side of her head. She smiled at Chao and introduced herself, "Yuuna Akashi, student number two."
Chao had known Master Gunnery Sergeant Akashi before the war with the Covenant. Hard as nails when in uniform, the man was a playful, fun-loving sport shooter. Looking upon the woman from whom Akashi was descended, she could see where he got it from. She closed her eyes, letting her past, this world's future, come back to her.
Sergeant Akashi, brandishing twin M6D pistols, stepped out from behind cover, and time itself seemed to dilate to Chao's over-the-shoulder perceptions. Overcome with morbid curiosity, she watched the brilliant flash from each pistol's muzzle, the bullets projecting out and leaving a stream of air displacement behind them.
Across the bay, she watched his precision fire blow through the skulls of seven grunts, before the gunnery sergeant shifted his fire to the blue-armored Elite wielding an energy sword. Akashi stepped out fully and rushed forward, events still occurring in 'bullet time,' to use the phrase from the old 20th century 'Matrix' movies. Green and blue plasma fire streaked past on all sides, coming close enough to singe his ceramic armor but otherwise missing him completely. The last pair of shots from the pistols brought down the Elite's shields, causing it to roar in anger and pain as the slides of Akashi's pistols locked back.
Casting the pistols aside, the gunnery sergeant rolled forward as a globe of overcharged plasma roared over his form, then came up with a fallen plasma grenade in his hand. He kicked up out of the roll, demonstrating his strong athletic ancestry, and landed on the shoulders of the Elite, holding its energy sword arm away with one hand as he activated the grenade and slammed it into the Elite's helmet.
Kicking off of the armored alien, Akashi flew backwards through the air, catching a submachine gun that had been thrown into the air by the blast of another grenade, and unloading the weapon into the Elite. As soon as he hit the ground, Akashi rolled backwards into a landing strut, watching the grenade explode in an overwash of plasma and blinding light, the Elite vanishing inside it with a mangled scream.
The landing strut suddenly shifted against Akashi's back, and he looked back to find that he was actually leaning against a red-armored Elite whose plasma rifle was reared up high over its head. In slow motion, Chao watched the rifle descend, slam down on the point where his neck met his shoulder, heard the sharp crunch of his spine and shoulder fracturing, if not outright shattering.
Like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut, Akashi slumped to the deck, his hands twitching slightly, fingers attempting to clench and unclench on a weapon that wasn't there.
Unbidden, tears began to rise to Chao's eyes. Fate was a cruel thing indeed. It had conspired for the descendants of these girls to form the squad whose task it was to remove her from the Athens before the Covenant invaded the Super-MAC station, and it, according to that mysterious voice, had conspired for her to be brought here, to this time, to be put into classes with those men's anscestors.
In the back of the room, a girl with long blonde hair, everything about her screaming noble lineage, stood up and bowed regally to Chao. "Student number twenty-nine and class representative, Yukihiro Ayaka."
Chao flinched as the visions came again, this time superimposing themselves over her vision as though they were a HUD display.
His face filled with panic, Private Yukihiro was running toward Chao, his battle rifle clutched to his chest, hordes of Covenant swarming into the room. Behind him, there was a clash of energy as a blue energy sword suddenly flashed into existence in midair, revealing the presence of a stealthed Elite.
Before Chao could shout a warning, the still-camouflaged Elite lunged, driving the superheated blade through Yukihiro's chest as though he were a paper dummy. Pain etched itself across his features, and he tried to scream, but only managed to gasp as the heat of the energy sword began to incinerate his lungs.
Chao's vision swam, and she bit her lip to prevent herself from sobbing aloud. Takahata noticed this, and quietly whispered to her, "Chao-san, are you okay?"
She nodded mutely as another girl stood, but she could only recognize through her tears a small figure and a mop of dark blue, possibly purple, hair. "N-number twenty-seven, Miyazaki Nodoka," the girl stuttered in a quiet, shy voice.
So this was her. This girl was the one whose image was on the pactio card that Captain Miyazaki would occasionally show her. This girl was meant to be one of the partners of her own ancestor, Negi Springfield. Even through six hundred years, the ONI captain had inherited his ancestor's quiet nature.
She found herself staring at Captain Miyazaki's back, watching the man empty his silenced submachine gun into the advancing special operations Elite, each bullet causing the alien's shields to flare, causing the active camouflage to work overtime to compensate for the compromise in the stealth field. As the last bullet spit from Miyazaki's SMG, the active camouflage failed, revealing an Elite in the black armor associated with the enemy special forces, golden energy arcing over its plates in a visual indication of its failed shields.
Miyazaki's weapon was empty, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to reload or switch weapons before the Elite reached him, and he was woefully out of range to attempt to physically beat it into submission. And so, the ONI captain glanced back at Chao, gave her an apologetic, warm smile, and then moved to place his body directly between her and the Elite.
"NO!" Chao screamed aloud, her outburst causing several of the students to recoil in surprise, and begin whispering amongst themselves.
Even Takahata was taken aback by this. "Uhh, Chao-san? Are you-"
She fled. As though she could just leave those horrible images of the past behind her, Chao broke and ran from the room, blindly following corridors and stairs, just trying to get as far away as she could. But no matter how far she ran, how tightly she closed her eyes, the images persisted.
The twin prongs of the energy sword erupted from Miyazaki's back and the man slumped forward, dying, but not there yet. Chao looked on in horror, and in her field of vision, she saw the bodies of Saotome, descendant of the mischievous-looking girl in her class, slumped against the locker with energy sword burns through his body; of Asakura, or what was left of him, surrounded by needles that had not exploded and human ichor, of Kugimia, his ancestor that quiet girl who had an unusually deep voice for her age and gender, sprawled with the blue burns of a plasma grenade covering half his body; Ayase, who had nothing in common with the blankly-staring juice-drinker of 1A, his back split open by an energy sword; Narutaki, whose ancestor could be either of the twin girls who looked way too young to be in 1A, put down like an animal before he could even fight back; Akashi, a friend and big brother to the child genius, who was finally, mercifully still; Hasegawa, whose ancestor looked every inch the technical genius he had been, of whom she knew nothing of his fate save the blood-splattered canopy of the Pelican.
When Chao finally stopped running, she found herself on the roof of the academy, staring out at the massive Yggdrasil Tree in the center of the campus, tears still streaming down her face. Once more, in sequence, she saw the bodies of her squad in their final positions, and her mind began to clear, and focus on a thought, a plan.
"It was magic that let Akira at least take his killer with him," she said harshly through clenched teeth. "Magic is the only way to save humanity from the Covenant. If revealing magic will cause a civil war, then I will reveal magic now so that the war will be over and done with when the Covenant rear their ugly heads, and we'll be able to fight them with better technology and magic."
The Chinese genius smiled a smile befitting a mad scientist. "Asakura, Akashi, Saotome, Yukihiro, Hasegawa, Ayase, Kugimia, Miyazaki, I swear, that I will find a way to force the world to recognize magic, that we'll be able to stop the Covenant this time, that you won't all have to die in vain."
She stood upright, and wiped the last of her tears away. "Barring that, I'll design weapons, vehicles, battle robots, anything that will give us an edge. But revealing magic is the key." She stared out at the Yggdrasil Tree and spread her arms out wide, grinning madly. "This is why Fate brought me so far back in time. This is my destiny. History will remember me as a murderer, but I will know that my actions will save human beings from extinction."