Ugh, boring filler chapter, sorry. I felt like I had to connect between events and I couldn't come up with much.

Fires burned across the charred ground, the smoke mingling together to form a thick haze in the air. The heat of the flames melted the surrounding metal. Scrapes of all shapes and sizes of all shades—from human white to Covenant black. Wreckages crowed where it had once been barren crags and jungle. Now the landscape was reshaped into mountains of debris that had once made ships.

The Chief's hand twitched.

The fingers twitched several more times as blood and feeling poured back into them. Suddenly the hand snapped into a fist and John let out a deep, throaty groan. He rolled over onto his stomach, propping himself up on his arms. But that was all he could do.

It was one of the few times in John's life that his entire body felt sore. The only other time he could name such was when he was ambushed by a Brute Chieftain and was struck on his head. Much like then, the Spartan gritted his teeth and shut his eyes as he tried to force his paralyzed muscles to obey him. Not even his crash-landing on Earth hurt this bad. With another loud groan of effort, the soldier pushed himself on his feet, his body protesting in agony. He ignored it.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"I'm… I'm not sure," Cortana hesitantly replied. "I think we got caught in some sort of gravity well."

She drawled on the last part, as if to emphasize her speculation or disbelief. John looked around, only to see shredded hills of metal that seemed too much like a post-apocalyptic scene.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

The Chief remembered being on a Pelican with other humans. Now the Spartan only saw the movement of fire. Hard soil was beneath his feet and the metal that crowded around him was certainly not from a Pelican.

There was a long pause from Cortana. "All dead." John made a face as the AI continued. "Over there is the rest of our ride."

Catching something in the corner of his eye, the Master Chief glanced over to his right to see the destroyed remains of the Pelican. It was so dented and teared—a wing ripped off—that it was almost unrecognizable. Only the line of corpses strewn across the ground hinted its real identity. John looked away and down at his feet.

He blinked as he saw his assault rifle by his foot. Despite the solemn situation, he couldn't help but smile. No matter what, he could always find his trusty weapon. The supersoldier quickly picked it up.

"So what do we do now?" Cortana asked.

"The rest of the fleet must have followed us. We link up with the UNSC forces and find out where we are."

The Chief narrowed his eyes at the debris field around him, biting back from adding, If the fleet is still here.

Thankfully Cortana assured him a few moments later. "It seems plenty of both human and Covenant ships made the crash. I even found Infinity. She's grounded, but sounds like she's intact."

"Where?"

"42 clicks due north. Hope you don't mind hoofing it a little."

The Spartan glanced down at his assault rifle, only to see with mild dismay that it was slightly dented and only had half of its ammunition.

"Not a problem. But I need to find a weapon first."

The first thing Palmer noticed was that she couldn't move her limbs. The second thing she noticed was that it was pitch-dark. Third, she was pissed.

"What the fuck?" she gasped. "Hey! What the hell is this?"

The Spartan commander tried to move, only for her limbs to remain locked in place. Then suddenly a blinding light washed over her face, making her wince in pain as her eyes stung. Luckily she still had her helmet still on and the visor quickly shaded to protect her vision.

"Commander Phalmer?" Glacier addressed as he pulled the sheet of metal away, losing his usually perfect English.
"Palmer," Sarah corrected quickly through a bark.

The Elite only snorted. The Spartan immediately regained control of her body once the wreckage was pulled away. Despite she was practically crushed against debris, Palmer leaped to her feet in an instant.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"The Phantom you so wisely decided to steal crashed."

"Hey! How is this my fault?"

Glacier only made a growl from his chest, a warning of his thinning patience. Unfortunately their plan to capture the ship was not as easy as they believed. Several squadrons of Elites and Spartans along with supporting human soldiers, but it was still not enough against the army of Covenant that awaited them. While they originally planned for the Elites to take the bridge and the humans to take the engines, they found themselves being forced back and to rendezvous within one of the carrier's hangers. Outnumbered, outgunned, and exhausted, it was Palmer's idea to steal several Phantoms and escape. Only when they did, they found themselves lost with the fleet as they were all dragged into Requiem's core.

"It appears majority of us are unharmed," the Arbiter's voice suddenly came.

Sure enough, behind him Elites and Spartans alike were crawling out of their wrecked Phantoms. They even gave each other assistance and already began picking through the debris in search of anything salvageable. Thel 'Vadam ignored the several corpses of unlucky passengers and suicide Sangheili. Virl 'Sadum nodded.

"Very well, we continue on," he proclaimed.

"You have a plan, Ice-Man?" Palmer quipped.

The alien quickly rounded on her. "To you, it's Virl 'Sadum." He emphasized the vowels of his name, then quickly added, "And only Ian can call me 'Glacier.'"

"Alright, then."

The Arbiter, using his namesake, stepped in before the two could bicker any more. "All the Phantoms are damaged beyond repair."

"So that means we're walking?"

The Elite leader nodded. "Yes. We cannot delay. There must be others who survived the fall. We'll find them on our way."

Sarah shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

Their conversation was interrupted when suddenly a familiar, ghostly hum filled the air. Immediately every soldier's defensive walls were thrown up, many not hesitating to snatch their weapons. Palmer was one of them, pointing the barrel of her assault rifle towards the sky. Sure enough, only a few moments later, the ominous dark shadow of a Phantom materialized, hovering menacingly.

"Get ready, boys!" Commander Palmer barked. "We're about to have a party!"

"Cortana, what exactly am I looking at?"

"That would be Requiem's roof."

"We're inside the planet, are we?"

"Pretty much."

The Master Chief shook his head, looking down where he had been staring up at the metal far above him. His rummaging through the crash site had paid off: he acquired a SAW machine gun, a Covenant carbine, two plasma grenades, and a frag grenade. Though he would love to find more weapons soon, he had dealt with less before and it was certainly doable.

The soldier actually had found other survivors, but it was short-lived. He came across several Covenant soldiers, but the aliens were dying and collapsed before they could even train their weapons on him. He even found a human, but the poor boy succumbed to his wounds before the Chief could lift him to his feet. Damned waste. John could only snatch his dog tags and continue on.

Suddenly a shout of warning from Cortana interrupted his thoughts.

"Incoming Covenant patrol!" she yelped.

Immediately the alien hum echoed off the walls of the range the Chief had been walking through. Not needing to be told twice, the Spartan dived behind the shadow of a large boulder, gripping onto his SAW and glancing up. A moment later a large Phantom slipped overhead, escorted by two Banshees. They moved slowly, like a predator stalking prey. John knew that routine. There were survivors, and the Covenant was hungry for them. However, looking at them gave him an idea.

"Cortana, how many ships made it through the roof?"

"Plenty, why?" she replied curiously.

"How much do you think the Covenant would mind if we hitched a ride?"

John could practically see her smiling mischievously. "Well, there's some patrolling up ahead. We could always ask nicely."

"Asking's not my strong suit."

The Spartan continued on. Sure enough, the canyon he traveled through opened to a small clearing. Several Grunts and an Elite housed it, looking bored and disoriented. They had lack of weaponry. John made the assumption they were also stranded and they weren't spotted by the passing Phantom. He had to neutralize them before it could make another pass.

At first the Covenant didn't even notice his approach until a Grunt flinch upon spotting him. It made a high-pitched wail of dismay, throwing up the alarm. Immediately the survivors whirled around and John let the bullets of his newly-acquired SAW fly. The patrol was dead in less than two minutes. The Chief relieved them of their grenades and looked at the Elite's weapon curiously.

It was about the same size as his carbine, but was more compact in a barrel-shape and the exterior was made of a deep shade of blue. John tilted his head. He never saw this weapon before. He placed his SAW down and picked it up. Pointing it at a nearby wall of a ravine, he pulled the trigger. Immediately a volley of blue superheated plasma shot out in rapid succession. The rock he aimed at was perfectly scorched.

"Nice weapon," he commented.

It must have been some sort of upgrade of the plasma rifle. It was bigger so it couldn't be dual-wielded like its ancestor, but as far as the Chief could tell it was more accurate. It was certainly more fitting for an Elite. Oh well, it was his now. With that, the Spartan clipped it to his back. He usually didn't like carrying more than two weapons, as he didn't want to risk being burdened. But since he was stranded in uncharted territory with limited ammunition, he would make an exception.

Where the canyon had broadened suddenly closed to a tunnel, just barely big enough for the giant supersoldier. He didn't mind as he slipped through, and kept his pace at a trot. The tunnel wasn't not only small but dark and moist as well. It was only because of his Spartan vision he could see the lining of the wall. Still, he was blinded when suddenly the tunnel curved into a blinding light. John squinted his eyes and slowed to a walk, not wanting to rush out blindly.

The Spartan stepped through the light and his eyes adjusted to the glare. John couldn't believe what he saw.

Towers.

Giant towers made of a pale, cold metal John could never hope to name. The metal gleamed in the sunlight (which the Spartan now noticed existed, but he didn't know how it was there), almost appearing white beneath its glow. He was amazed to see parts of the structures moving: giant sheets of metal shifting between places and back again. The towers stretched far into the sky, almost touching the metallic roof. But they did not touch the ground. The metal structures floated in midair like a cruiser but stationary, hovering above what seemed like a metallic outpost. Surrounding the outpost were giant waterfalls cascading into an abyss below them, the rushing water sparkling and shining as much at the steel towers above them.

The phenomenon was surrounded by lush jungle stretching in every direction, unbroken and undisturbed. The Chief was placed on a cliff overlooking it all, trying to take it all in. The scene was beautiful, even for him. And as a supersoldier that had been to literally every corner of the galaxy (and beyond), that meant a lot. It was hard to imagine this was part of the same planet that housed the crash-sight of dozens of ships and where even more sentient beings lost their lives.

However, no Infinity.

John narrowed his eyes. He would think that the massive starship would stick out in such a landscape. However, the Spartan was able to notice enough depth and differences in height to see the jungle lay across small mountains. Infinity could have been hidden by one. It meant John had a lot of ground to cover.

"Chief, there's some Warthogs over there," Cortana suddenly spoke up, but tentatively, as if she did not want to disturb the temporary peace. "I suggest we get one."

The Master Chief looked over to see a piece of frigate—which seemed to be part of a hanger—strewn across the rocks, several Warthogs laying across the wreckage. A few of them seemed to be intact, perhaps in working order. John smirked.

Perfect.

Lasky hesitantly crawled up the holopanel onto his feet, his body radiating in soreness and for some reason his lungs were tight from his disease. He was embarrassed he had to lean on the table for support, but then he heard loud groans echoing off the walls of the bridge. There wasn't a single person that wasn't thrown off their feet.

"Everybody okay?" the captain called, able address his concern with authority.

There was a murmur of reassurances, despite men were still letting out strained noises. Tom glanced at the table before him.

"How about you, Roland?"

Though he had asked the question gently, the AI popped up suddenly, unlike before. Roland didn't have to be human for Lasky to know he was fuming.

"No!" the AI retorted. "Entire ship's a mess! Shields are down, engines aren't working… don't get me started on telemetry. Do you what it's like to lose complete control over the thing you're supposed to be controlling?"

Roland looked like he about to continue ranting, but Lasky cut him off.

"So the ship's in critical condition?" he summarized.

The supercomputer paused, as if his train of "thought" was interrupted. He eventually nodded. "Yes. The engines aren't responding—so we're grounded. Me and the mechanics are working on it now—don't worry. However several of the systems are acting wacky—"

"Can you fix it?"

"Working on it now."

"Good. Keep me posted."

"Oh, and Captain, I know I just said nothing's not working, but the ship's radar and sensors are still activated."

Lasky cocked an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"And if they're accurate, then I'm detecting incoming Covenant forces."

Immediately the captain's eyebrows shot to his hairline. He stormed to the window, glaring through it as if he imagined to be greeted with a Covenant armada.

"Three destroyer-class cruisers and raiding parties—lots of them," Roland went on, talking in a cheery and calm voice like he was merely commenting on the weather.

Lasky's eyes were darting across the jungle landscape—which he had a poor vantage point from Infinity's awkward position on the ground.

"When do they get here?" the man demanded.

In answer, there was a violent tremor from the ship, but this one was different from the one in space. It was enough for several technicians to yelp in fright and for Lasky to sway to regain his balance. Roland was still calm, addressing his captain with his hands behind his back.

"Now," the AI quipped.

Lasky flinched back from the window as suddenly there was a high-pitched noise and the speeding lines of Banshees materialized. The Covenant fighters were gone as suddenly as they appeared, provoking several yelps and mutters. Expression solemn and stomach twisting, Tom stormed back to the holopanel, ignoring the shadow of an incoming cruiser behind him.

"Roland, does the intercom still work?" the captain asked.

"Now it does," the AI assured.

Captain Lasky didn't hesitate.

"This is Captain Lasky to all crew: man your battle stations, this is not a drill!" Immediately there was another deadly rattle. "I repeat: this is not a drill! Battle stations!"

"Ow… Ow… Ow…" Ian muttered miserably.

Still in agonizing pain, the poor boy awkwardly crawled over what he assumed was the root of a tree—fully exposed and almost as tall as him. He fell back to the forest floor with a squeak. He trudged on through the mud, his shoes kicking up dirt the only sound. The jungle was still deafening silent: giving Ian an eerie feeling that seeped into his bones. He tried to ignore it and keep going.

It was a sharp contrast to the jungles of Sanghelios, which were always filled with song and the distant howls of a predator. What Ian would do to be there again, hunting innocent game with his Sangheili friend Anoka. Briefly taking a break to spar playfully. Or challenge an elder to a puzzle, or—

Ian gave a miserable laugh as he buried his head in hands. He was losing it, he just knew it. He remembered clearly during his days on Earth how he spent all his free time locked in his room. Some days even his parents couldn't get him out. Yet here he was, stranded in an alien jungle begging to be teleported to another alien jungle. The irony.

The thought reminded Ian of something that provoked another pitiful laugh. Remembered. His life as a human was just memories. Like it was another lifetime. Like it was a movie. Not that he actually lived it. Not that it was the life he was supposed to live. Ian dropped his head. He was definitely losing it. Maybe Jul hit him a little too hard.

The memory immediately caused a fresh wave of pain to pound his skull. The teenager winced. There was no way he could keep going like this. At this rate, his body would give out and he would be more stranded than he already was. He had to find the others. And soon. Except he had no idea where to start looking.

He only saw the jungle stretching for miles and miles in every direction. He sensed no nearby technology. He didn't even know if he was going the right way.

Ian fell to his knees.

"I give up!" he wailed. "What do you want from me?"

He called to no one in particular. In anything, he yelled at the planet itself, like he expected it to respond. He still felt that persistent ache in his mind as his instincts were stirring but had nothing to attach to. He swore it felt like something was trying to talk to him, like the human would look over his shoulder and see a companion. The Forerunners were trying to speak to him, but Ian could not hear.

"If you want to say something, just say it! Just give me something! I don't want to die out here!"

Ian wasn't expecting a response. He was surprised when he got it and he swore he was hallucinating. However his instincts stirred excitedly, telling him he wasn't. The human grinned like the little boy he was.

"Hey, buddy, can you help me out?"