Daylight crept over the horizon and stained the landscape.

Trent stood in the entrance to the garage, staring out over the forest with baggy, bloodshot eyes. A smoking, half-dead Yeheyuan hung from his lips. He was exhausted and depressed. They'd lost several good men last night, including one of the Survivors. There'd been no radio contact from the missing personnel, nor any sign of the creature after Trent had called for the fallback to the base. Everything remained static.

"Hey, man." Trent glanced over, his startle reflex suppressed by his lethargy.

"Hey, Cannioto," he replied. Cannioto laughed and lit up his own cigarette, a Marlboro Crimson, using a golden Zippo with a red cross on the side.

"Just call me Cann...everyone else does. So, hey. I heard you hooked up with the tech."

Trent laughed, breathing out a haze of blue smoke. "Christ, this is worse than high school...can't a man get his rocks off without everyone in a mile knowing about it?"

"No way. Not if the chick is smoking hot." Trent shrugged. He needed sleep, they'd done as much as they could for the moment, and he had another plan set up for the following night. But he'd be no good if he didn't get some sleep.

"How was she?" Cannioto asked after a couple of seconds.

"Really good. Limber, lots of stamina. You thinking about hitting it?"

Cannioto shook his head, raising his hand. "Nah, she's yours. For this mission at least. Don't worry, anyway. I found one of the locals. Blonde Marine girl. She's let herself go a little, living out here, but," he shrugged. "I like thicker thighs."

"My ex had some thick thighs. She was ONI."

Cannioto shuddered. "Wow. You've got some balls. Those ONI intelligence chicks are supposed to be icy as space. But I've heard that if you can get into their pants, they're good."

"Oh, she was good. Sex hungry but...it didn't work out." Trent shrugged and flicked his nearly-dead cig to the ground, stamping on it. "So, I'm going to go get some sleep. Are you going to be ready to go tonight?"

"Oh yeah. You can count on me."

"Good...it'll go better this time."

"We hope." Trent turned away and headed into the garage.


Trent gasped awake in the cool darkness of his room, the images and emotions of the nightmares still fogging his mind. He relaxed, realizing that he wasn't in any real danger. The fan he'd had brought to him sat on the bedside table, quietly blowing cool air onto him. He let out his breath slowly, trying to relax. He glanced over. Melissa was lying next to him, facing him. She looked beautiful in her slumbering state.

She opened her eyes, suddenly, startling him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah...I'm fine. Just...nightmares. You?" he replied.

"I'm fine."

"You look fine."

Melissa grinned and sat up. "I think we're beyond the compliments stage of the relationship. You already got into my pants."

Trent shrugged. "Nothing wrong with giving a pretty girl a compliment." Melissa rolled her eyes. She reached across him, her breasts brushing against his arm and chest, and grabbed his pack of Yeheyuans.

"God, you're gonna make me blush," she complained. She lit up and passed him the pack. Trent looked at the clock on the table. Nearly ten hours had passed. He sighed. Been sleeping too much lately. But he was still tired from his experience inside of his own head. Trent suspected it might take a little while to fully recover from that. And diving headlong into a mission and another woman might not be the best for his recovery.

Then again...he glanced over at Melissa. She raised an eyebrow.

"What? Another round?" she asked.

"Tempting but...we should get ready. I'm going to take a shower."

"Why can't we do both?"


"All right, tell me you have something." Trent was practically begging, but last night had been a living nightmare. The technician glanced back at him from the console he was manning. At first, his face was grim, but then he smiled.

"I've got something."

Trent laughed, relieved. Everything he was planning for tonight hinged on this technician. He motioned to the screen before him.

"We've been at it for fourteen hours...but we finally managed to feed the DNA of that sample you brought us into the LifeScan. That's what I've got for you. We fired it up but...well, that's the bad news. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to detect the thing. It's nowhere within the range of the LifeScan. But, at least, this time around we'll be able to give you guys some warning."

Trent frowned. It wasn't what he was hoping for exactly...but it was better than nothing. "So where the hell is he?" he muttered.

"No idea. He's either beyond the range of the LifeScan or..."

Trent glanced at the tech. "Or what?"

"Or...he's somewhere else."

"Like...where?"

"Based on the evidence of what I saw last night, he seemed to be almost...popping in and out of existence. And we found no evidence of the ones he's taken. Maybe he comes from...another dimension?"

Trent's frown deepened as he considered the situation. "You don't think that sounds a little crazy?"

"Of course it does. That doesn't mean it's not happening. If you'd told anyone before the start of the Human-Covenant War that we'd be pushed to the brink of extinction by a collection of religious, alien fanatics from the stars, they would have called you crazy. Or, hell, look at the Flood. The Forerunners?" The tech shrugged.

"Yeah, I suppose so. But even by those standards...another dimension is pretty damned far-fetched. Though I suppose it doesn't matter. I've got another plan for tonight. Here's exactly what I'm going to need..."


Trent rubbed the back of his neck, then popped it. It had taken an hour, but they'd set up the equipment and personnel he'd requested. He'd spent a while talking about it with the others, and they all agreed that his plan seemed fairly sound. He was going to do a reversal, honestly something he should have done in the first place. Instead of going into the woods and trying to hunt down the damned thing, he was going to make it come to them.

He'd had Blair, Melissa and a couple of the locals posted up high atop the base with sniper rifles. Cannioto was on standby in the hangar with a team of armed medics, prepared for anything that might happen over the course of the night. Enzo was hanging back with a squad of the more experienced Marines, all of them heavily armed and armored. They were the backup. Eric had volunteered to join Trent as the bait.

As night fell once more, the day slowly dying from brilliant sunshine into a sullen furnace glow of ghostly embers, a misty chill began to seep into the landscape. Trent shivered as he patrolled the perimeter of the base with Eric. He wondered if the creature would even show tonight. It had been wounded the night before, and had made quite a haul. And it had to know that they would be only more prepared for it.

Or did it? How intelligent was it? Surely, if it could pop in and out of existence, it must be extremely, terrifyingly intelligent. Unless it wasn't. What if that ability was just...natural? Or what if it had stumbled onto a piece of technology far, far beyond its comprehension in terms of engineering, but it had discovered how to use its most basic function? These thoughts plagued Trent as he continued his tedious but nerve-wracking patrol with Eric.

They talked and shared cigarettes while they waited.

"So, what's your life look like, Staccato?"

Eric laughed, a short, bitter snort through his nose. "About the same as yours, I imagine, right now. Though without the sex."

Trent rolled his eyes. "Everyone seems to be on me about that."

"Not as on you as Melissa apparently is." Trent couldn't help but laugh. "I was curious...why don't you...I don't know, flaunt it more? Smack her ass some, give a kiss, grab her tits. You know."

"I do all those things," Trent replied defensively.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Behind closed doors. You've got no PDA going on."

"Should I? I don't know, I'm not sure if she'd even like that...and what about all the guys that aren't getting any? I don't want to rub their faces in that."

"Why not? I would. And I've seen Melissa grab your dick. Obviously she's into PDA."

He sighed. "I've been there. I know what that's like. A sexless life isn't always a fun one. But don't think I didn't notice how you so gracefully redirected this conversation from you to me."

Eric shrugged and flicked some ash onto the ground. "Not much to tell to a guy like you, Temple. Or should I say, DuPree?" Trent looked at him sharply. "Oh yeah. Your little secret is under tight wraps, but there's no secret so tight that I can't burn through a few firewalls to get at it. I know all about your history. It's what I do, my hobby. I love reading people's profiles and psyche evals...ho boy, if only the others knew they were working with a certified nutjob..."

"I'm cured," Trent replied quietly. Eric dropped his easygoing manner for a moment and stared long and hard at Trent, frowning intensely.

"Are you?" he asked. "Are you really?"

"Yes, I am," Trent replied firmly, though he thought there was more to Eric's question than what appeared on the surface.

Eric shrugged and relaxed again. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. I know the guys who are running this operation. They aren't idiots, and they wouldn't have put you up for Survivor Status if they didn't believe you could do it. Besides, I like your history. It's interesting." Eric winced suddenly and reached up, massaging his temples.

"You all right?"

"Fine, fine. Keep your eyes out for the boogieman." Trent shuddered at that, almost having lapsed into a state of keen relaxation. Something he knew he shouldn't do, but he'd been starved for social attention lately.

Trent began to fish out a fresh cigarette when a shudder seemed to run through the base. The lights flickered, the generators hiccuped, coughed and then resumed. There was a soft, whispering ghost of static in Trent's headset. For a second, he thought he could hear somebody, or something whispering over the open channel.

"What's going on? Talk to me, Baseplate," Trent demanded.

The response was almost immediate. "I've got something. A flicker on the LifeScan. It's out there but...it seems to be popping in and out of existence, slowly making it was way towards the base...towards you and Staccato."

Trent felt his gut harden and go cold. He gripped his silenced SMG a little tighter, sweeping his gaze out and away from the outpost, into the woods.

All at once, a low, haunting bass rumble shuddered throughout the area. It rattled Trent's bones and nearly made him piss himself in some deep, primal fear reaction. He glanced over at Eric, who had clenched his teeth so tightly he'd bit through his cigarette. He spit out the remains and raised the shotgun he was wielding.

"Let's do this," he growled, facing the woods. Trent joined him, keeping still, trying to prepare himself for anything. He knew there were over a dozen others covering him, weapons armed and ready. The knowledge didn't give him as much comfort as he'd hoped it would. Because when you got right down to it, he and Eric would be on their own out here at first. And those first few seconds seemed to count for so much more in times like this.

He stared long into the forest, which was drenched with light. He could see everything clearly. The trees, the underbrush, the bushes and branches and dirt floor. For several moments he remained stationary, motionless, willing movement to become apparent to him. He was just getting ready to say something to Eric, maybe to go a little deeper out, that maybe it wasn't taking to the bait, when it happened.

There was a flicker of movement near the treeline, something dark and long and slender. Trent only caught a glimpse of it, but that was all he needed. He knew nightmare fuel when he saw it. The flicker was gone, then it popped back into reality again, closer this time.

"It's within ten meters of the base!" the technician called needlessly over the comm unit. Trent tried to track the thing's movement with the barrel of his SMG. He was about to squeeze the trigger, beginning to see a pattern, when someone on the roof, probably Blair or Melissa, beat him to the punch. A sniper shot rang out in the night and whizzed in between both Trent's and Eric's head, far too close for comfort.

The round smashed into the creature as it snapped into existence once more. There was a spray of black blood, followed promptly by a loud but incredibly low roar of fury. It rattled Trent's bones once more, but this time he was more prepared. The creature stumbled backwards, barely catching itself, and this time Trent did get a good look at it.

The thing was hideous, a twisted caricature of what might have been a man. It was tall, easily reaching ten feet in height. Its limbs were long and slender, multi-jointed and bending at several awkward angles. Its skin almost seemed chameleon-like, partially taking on the shades and colors of its surroundings. Though the effect seemed partially ruined by the nearly glowing black blood and the wounded state of the thing.

Trent took aim, stared down the holographic sights of his SMG, then froze as the beast locked eyes with him. If its body was alien, then its face was entirely other. It had a pair of leaning slits for eyes, swelling and contracting rapidly, revealing a deeper darkness, something the color of black holes, within. There was no nose. Its mouth was a horizontal slash, a mockery of a grin, twisted into something evil and malignant.

Trent broke out of the trance-like state he had fallen into, his reflexes forcing him to pull the trigger as the nightmare began to advance on him. As he did so, Eric's own shotgun spoke and another pair of sniper rifle rounds rang out. The bullets converged on the creature's central mass, what might have been its chest, and it bellowed again. Though this time it sounded more like panic than anger. It startled to shift and go blurry around the edges, and Trent realized it was trying to shift back out of this plane of existence.

He quickly reloaded and threw a fresh stream of bullets into the ungodly horror. It uttered another bellow, this one closer to a shriek, and then collapsed. Trent let out his breath slowly, his eyes still locked on the unmoving heap. Enzo and the others were coming out now, weapons free, covering the monster. Once they came within proper shooting distance, Trent let them have the monster, his knees weak, his legs trembling slightly.

"Excellent job, my friend. Very brave," Enzo said, clapping him on the back.

Trent laughed wearily. "Yeah. Great job. I could use a drink."