Halo Fanfic

by Eaglestriker5

A young twelve year old lives a normal life in this world, and time...But things go awry when she travels to another... And when it comes to her. Destiny and fate throws her around like a ragdoll.

6. The Legacy (Sequel)

The Legacy

Emily's house

Emily

Life couldn't be called normal after everything I'd been through. Everything seemed different to me now, in ways I couldn't explain; I'd learnt things, and seen things that I shouldn't have. I'd retained some of John's memories, too- and I must say they weren't particularly pleasant. None of them seemed to be, but that was just John, wasn't it? It didn't help, either, that we'd both retained some sort of telepathic stuff after we went to the Didact's world. How the link could work through space and time, I had no idea. Wasn't my place to know. I didn't care, either. The Spartan was good company, in a very serious, strict and slightly overkill manner.

I started back into consciousness as the tutor of Maths Online- a website to help me learn maths, began talking. His voice was slightly distorted as it emerged from the Ipad Air's speakers.

When would I get to go back to the Halo world?

How?

Where?

I didn't listen to the tutor's pre-recorded blabber about percentages.

Six minutes later

I blinked in confusion. How was I supposed to work this out? Fifteen percent of four hundred dollars? How did that work!? Ummm…Maybe let's try..

Sixty dollars, John announced.

I nearly dropped my pencil.

That's all very well, but I need to know how to do it! If you do it, that's cheating, I shot back.

You weren't listening.

JOHN!

Put the percent over one hundred. Put the quantity under one. Cancel zeros, if you can. Times.

Thank you! I said sarcastically.

I won't help you every time.

I didn't expect you to, I replied haughtily.

I shifted on the plastic chair- the cold tiles on the floor made my feet uncomfortable. The white walls disappeared as I focused intensely on my next "Percentages of Quantities" question.

Thirty-four point five six.

JOHN!

I could almost imagine the smirk on his face.

Four hours later

UNSC Infinity

John

Irritatingly- Emily's maths questions still wandered obliquely through my head, and I did my best to ignore them as I marched, Kelly, Fred and Linda all behind me. It was only for the benefit of an inspection officer, Mr Daniel Lazlo. At least, that's what I thought his name was. I grimaced mentally as the black wool of my formal dress scratched against my skin. It'd been too long since I was last in the comfortable gel undersuit of my armour. Lasky, on a catwalk above us, watched as Spartan Sarah Palmer attempted to get the unruly Spartan fours into a line.

Woooooow - is this what you do all day? Seems soooo fun!, Emily commented sarcastically.

I almost tripped over my meticulously polished boots. Hopefully my minor slip up wasn't noticed by the extremely critical Lazlo.

It's only an inspection, I replied, miffed.

For that guy? She said, suggesting Daniel standing next to Thomas. He was a short, stout man with a wrinkled face and a smugness of someone superior, which in fact he was not. Inspection officers held no command- so even a non-commissioned officer like me could order him around. The suit he was wearing was completely black and plain, and he looked about fifty. Lazlo sensed my gaze, as a lot of people could, and he regarded me with something akin to contempt. I stared back at him coldly. Seemingly to his own disgust, the officer couldn't help but look away. Fred noticed and scoffed.

"No use thinking you are superior if you cannot prove the fact," he muttered.

Daniel called a halt, taking charge even when he held no command.

I'd like to kick this guy's ass, John, Emily said evilly.

I silently agreed.

"That's enough!" Lazlo yelled in an incredibly high pitched and girly voice - for a man. Daniel strode down the catwalk stairs and swaggered over to the perfect line of my Spartans. He smiled that irritating smug smile and looked at Blue Team with an evil eye.

"Spartan one one seven- you were fine. You- the other guy; yes, you, the one with the brown eyes."

Kelly hissed, angry at his rudeness.

"You were less than average," he continued, examining his fingernails disinterestedly.

Fred didn't react.

"You- the woman with the blue eyes. You were horrible. I'd compare you to a drunken whale."

Kelly turned red and glared.

"You- the small one, with the green eyes. I hardly noticed you. Step up!"

Linda growled. Kelly probably wished to punch this man's face in and Linda probably wished for a sniper rifle to blow his head off. I'd had enough- they had names, and so did I, and we weren't prize pigs, either.

"Sir, perhaps you should make sure you are working properly, not us," I said mildly.

Kelly sniggered and Emily giggled. Daniel turned red.

"How dare you? I'm the inspection officer! You can't challenge me!"

Fred gained a smug look in his eyes.

"Inspection officers have no rank or command. I could order you."

Daniel blinked, defeated- but he returned to smugness mode, stalking over to the Spartan fours. He flung departing words over his shoulder.

"Seven out of ten. Three points deducted for obvious reasons."

Kelly opened her mouth to retort.

"Would you like another deducted?"

Kelly shut her mouth and fumed.

Two hours later

John

I heaved a massive sigh, sitting at my desk to fill out yet another set of paperwork for Blue Team.

Hard day, huh? Emily asked. I can keep you company, if you like?

That's what I'm afraid of, I replied.

Shut up, she retorted.

Same could be said to you, Emily.

She ignored that.

What was the point of all that marching and parading?

It's something like showing off, I replied as I concentrated on writing a detailed explanation of operating procedures.

That's dumb.

To you, perhaps.

I had blissful silence for five minutes.

What's seven times seven?, Emily's voice burst into my serenity.

I nearly created a huge scribble on my paper.

Forty-nine, I replied, irritated. Let me finish my paperwork.

Oh. Sorry.

Six hours later

I had another "showing off" thing to do today- basically, just the same thing as yesterday. Even I didn't know why the parade was being repeated; I sighed as the formal dress irritated my skin again

Your hair, Emily giggled suddenly.

I know, I replied.

It was flat on one side- apparently extremely funny as I attempted to fix it up in the mirror.

Emily laughed as I only made the situation worse. I eventually got it.

I wish I was older, Emily announced suddenly.

I didn't know how to reply to that.

John?

Mmmh.

What?

I'm acknowledging you.

Ooh. I want to be older because I wanna drive a car, go out for dinner by myself, drink alcohol, play computer all day, and get a boyfriend, and….

That was too personal, wasn't it? She said sheepishly.

Yes. It was.

Sometime later

John

I shook Daniel Lazlo's hand stiffly, yet gently. Breaking his hand wasn't the best idea. The small stuffy room was not a comfortable size, with Sarah and Lasky squeezed in. There weren't any windows either, so I couldn't see the hot gasses, nebulae and stars that swirled around in space. Thomas smiled; all the Spartans, marines, ODSTs, and other crew had passed the inspection. Daniel seemed satisfied and marched importantly out the door. I turned my gaze onto Lasky, tilting my head ever so slightly as I considered what to say.

"I did not like him."

"None of us did. They get worse every year," Lasky agreed.

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"John one one seven, dismissed," she ordered.

I pressed the button on the wall and the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. ODSTs lurked outside, glaring- not unusual, but this time they'd remarkably scored just under the marines. Of course, they blamed everyone and everything but themselves. I glanced disinterestedly at them. I didn't care, and it was not my place to.

"John!"

I slowed my pace and let Linda catch up.

"How did we score?"

I turned to look at her.

"We failed, miserably."

Linda's emerald green eyes rolled.

"We won by miles," I finished. I looked down as my boots squeaked on the polished floor- remnants of the inspection.

"I suppose I should not be surprised," Linda pondered, "But then, of course, we win at everything."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Not everything," I said sternly.

John? Emily began.

Yes?

When do you think I'll come to your world again?

I gazed down the long, polished grey corridor. It wasn't too far from here to the hangar- my intended destination. I was to examine Blue Team's new pelican; I hadn't seen it yet. I smiled wryly, I usually stole the dropships when I needed them.

I don't understand that, I replied to Emily.

Well- your world is way more fun than mine, plus it has space ships forcrissake!

It's also dangerous, unpredictable and you could die, I pointed out.

I shook my head and Linda glanced up- I wasn't worried, Blue Team knew about the link.

I cannot always be around to protect you, and I can't protect you from everything.

That admission hurt me. All I'd ever done was protect, kill, lose, regain. I'd never failed. And yet…I just could not do that with whatever the Light had in mind.

I blinked. Enough.

No wonder Blue team had been given the dropship. The space craft was beat up; paint chipped, metal dented and bent. I gave the derelict space craft another disgusted glance- give it half a chance and something would fail and kill us all. I gave Kelly a look and she returned it. Fred examined the Pelican. Numerous dropships also sat on raised pedestals, poised for take-off at the slightest need, the huge hangar having exit tunnels ejecting from the Infinity's side. I didn't look at the gigantic lights on the ceiling; they were so bright they'd burn out my retinas. I leaned against the olive green ship as Fred emerged from the troop bay.

"I am no engineer, but this will not fly," he announced, slightly miffed at the oil and dirt in his short brown hair. Kelly kicked the Pelican in anger.

"I can't believe it!"

"Maybe I could be o' assistance?" a ridiculously accented American voice sounded behind us, and every Spartan whirled to face the intruder. A woman about thirty-two, wearing spotless navy blue overalls and brown working boots stood behind us, twirling her non-regulation length, free blonde hair. I fixed her with a reserved gaze.

"We're fine, thank you very much," spat Kelly angrily.

I wished she could shut her mouth. This might be our lucky break. Fred eyed the civilian engineer passively, her job identified by her name tag. Linda didn't even look up from her polishing, cleaning her sniper's scope lens studiously.

"Identify yourself," I commanded, but the engineer pushed past me. I turned my head to follow her progress over to the Pelican, the mysterious woman flinging words over her shoulder.

"You've checked mer name tag, haven't ya? Amanda Jones, A-class civilian engineer. Ya can call me Amy, if yer like. I don't care much in tha' names department."

Fred turned a clueless gaze onto me. I didn't look back, only narrowing my eyes and continuing to burn a hole into Amanda's back, which she seemed to either not notice, or notice and ignore. She jogged into the Pelican's troop bay with a flick of blonde hair. I stalked curiously over and peered inside as the engineer attempted to pull a maintenance panel off the wall, but the thick grey battleplate wouldn't budge. Amanda shot me a look.

"Help me out here! I know you Spartans are strong as anythin, and if yer want yer Pelican fixed, you gotta cut me some slack, help out ya know?"

I cocked my head to the side.

"Who sent you?"

"Oh, no one. I can just tell when somethins outta whack, and with the state of this critter, I coulda told from a mile away," she replied as I ripped the panelling off the wall, the metal emitting a loud screech which hurt my hears; I ignored it.

Amanda gestured around.

"What we have here is a case of neglect, an poor servicing, the poor thing goes through a kinda vicious cycle- one engineer can't fix it, he ruins something, passes it on an it repeats," she explained as she fiddled with wires.

"Eventually tha craft in question is either scrapped, or ends up in tha hands of someone who can fix her," she said, standing up and putting her hands on her hips, "In this case, I'll be tha one ta fix her. It ain't gonna be easy an I'm not gonna sugar coat it for ya."

She dusted off her hands and examined the inside of the Pelican, finally looking at me.

"I heard about you Spartan twos when I signed up fer tha Infinity; ya seem pretty bad ass. Of course, I don't know much about yer besides what yer done and yer reputation."

I didn't comment. She cocked an eyebrow and bent down to continue fiddling.

"Oh, she's an old one! Factory batch one three three four five seven, date of batch is twenty five twenty five. Geez! She was made just after Contact Harvest, when we first met-"

She broke off as the wire she was tugging snapped, falling on her bottom.

"The Covenant," I finished.

She turned her head and nodded solemnly. I helped her up off the floor and she blinked her thanks. She paused, turning to meet my eyes. I met her gaze evenly.

"I do know wha' she did ta ya, though, that Halsey. Don't worry- I just know tha' you were six when she took ya and trained ya up."

I just continued to stare flatly at her, and she shook her head ruefully.

"Ya don't talk much, do ya?

"I find normal conversation….difficult," I replied.

Amanda brushed some dirt and dust off of my medals and formal dress, and I gave her a questioning glance. She grinned.

"Ya wouldn't wanna get dirt 'n' dust in that pretty dress would ya?"

I frowned at "pretty".

"I find my current care….respectable," I said confusedly.

Amanda roared with laughter, surprising me.

"Dontcha worry, we'll get this bird flyin in no time!"

"We?" I asked.

Two four hours later

Emily's house

Emily

I sat on my soft bed, the aqua and electric blue doona, decorated with white intersecting lines, under my back. I texted furiously on my newly acquired Iphone 3GS, my mother's old phone, but hey, at least it had Wi-Fi and an awesome app store! After a while, my eyes began to droop annoyingly; I was having a good conversation with my friend. I decided I'd check on John- sometimes the Spartan was doing something amazingly interesting that alleviated my boredom, but the guy's, well, "Spartan" attitude made some exciting things decidedly bland. I looked through John's eyes to see him watching a thirty year old blonde lady ask Fred some rather difficult questions, similar to,

"Whatcha do fer a living? Well, besides tha' usual killing, no offense intended."

Of course, the Spartan just looked blankly at her.

"Ever been on a date, big boy?" The woman said, turning to John and smiling smugly.

John's eyes widened and I could sense his confusion.

"Amanda…?"

Aha! So that was her name! She had a nice face and the kind of sweet looks that drew boys like flies to honey- but the outrageous accent kinda ruined the picture. I knew the Spartans weren't even the slightest affected by her prettiness, but then, even a singing Siren couldn't even affect them. They seemed to be working on a Pelican- was it Blue Team's? Fred blinked at Amanda and edged away slowly. Kelly sniggered behind a hand, and Linda finally looked up, glaring straight across the pedestal to watch Amanda, the engineer wasn't even fazed. I'd be trembling on the ground, or cowering in a corner under that intense emerald green gaze. Amanda clapped her hands together.

"Well buddies, I think that's enough fer today! Toddle off now, but be back ere' tomorrow cause I've gotta work ya harder yet!

The civilian engineer strode down the pedestal's steps, taking them slowly and, for the obvious benefit of the marines who were everywhere in the hangar, swinging her hips in a certain way. It almost made me want to throw up. Luckily John had no idea what she was doing.

Hello, Emily.

Oh! Er…Hello to you too, John.

Is there a reason for your intrusion?

Intrusion? I was only seeing what you were doing….

Then it's spying.

Shuddap! It is what it is and I say I was only checking what you were doing.

I am the senior officer. Do not tell me to shut up, John said mock seriously.

You're not the boss of me! I shot back playfully.

Since you take upon yourself the task of being stupid, I appointed myself to be your boss, he replied flatly.

I giggled.

Something funny? John asked, in a mock you're-in-trouble-tone.

Someone never graduated from high school!

That is very correct, he replied rapidly. I mentally whacked myself; of course he hadn't. He was being trained by Halsey when he was six. That thought didn't seem to bother me much anymore, even though that was what broke John.

Was your name Mr John Smarty Pants?

How should I know, he replied.

It wasn't a question, but a statement- of course he wouldn't know. He was brainwashed by the same training that'd turned him into a mindless killing machine.

"Blue Team dismissed," the Spartan announced. Fred, Kelly and Linda all turning swiftly and departing down the pedestal's stairs. John followed more slowly after. The Spartan strode slowly down a long corridor- probably to his room.

What was the Pelican for? I asked.

Blue Team's first Pelican. I don't know why they gave us one, he replied.

It looked pretty bashed up!

It was worse when we started, he said ruefully.

The Spartan opened the door to his room and sat on his bed.

Honestly, why bother giving you the Pelican when you have to fix it? It should be combat ready or whatever, I scoffed.

John didn't reply, and didn't seem obliged to. I left the Spartan to his own devices.

I opened my body's eyes to meet grey, hominoid eyes staring at me. They were set in a white, humanoid face, the nose having no bridge. A grey crown thing swept back from the eleven foot tall alien's head, emblazoned with engraved circles. She- for it was most definitely a she - stood on some sort of small levitating platform that elevated her tall frame another two feet off the ground. She wore a tight grey dress that rippled slightly in a non-existent wind. The tip of her crown almost touched the ceiling.

I covered my mouth before I could scream, scrambling backwards and falling off the side of the bed. The….Librarian? Why here? Why me? Why not John!

The Forerunner simply smiled, showing no teeth. She spoke.

"There is no need to be afraid, Prophesied One."

Her voice wasn't alien- she sounded like an older woman, but the heavy, powerful tone was what gave the fact away. I scrabbled backwards until I reached the wall and I hunched up. It didn't matter that I knew she wouldn't hurt me- I was afraid of what she was. The alien continued.

"You are very important, do you understand, Prophesied One? The Reclaimer needs to keep you safe, and you will keep him safe in turn."

Re…Reclaimer? John? No….No it couldn't..

"The object you call The Light will help you to do so."

I shivered, everything fading away until there was nothing but my terrified, paralysed mind screaming at me to run, run. I felt the warmth of The Light, but I didn't care what it, she-whatever, was doing. I wanted it out, out of my life! I felt myself fly forward into The Light.

But I didn't care. I protected myself in the only way I could; I blocked everything, my mind numb and blank.

UNSC Infinity

Emily

I didn't know how long I was in transit for. I had time to think about her. The Librarian. I shivered with fear as I remembered her. John mightn't have been scared in the events of Halo 4, but he wasn't six feet shorter than the Forerunner, and not thirteen years old.

I jumped with shock as I felt myself thrown out of The Light, landing on something scratchy. I instantly fastened a death grip on it, and I found that I'd landed face down over John's lap; I was gripping his arm.

"Emily?" The Spartan said in disbelief. He roughly lifted me upright and sat me down onto the metal floor. I didn't look up, tears searing my cheeks. Even now, I was still too scared to even say anything. I kept my death grip on John's neatly ironed dress coat cuffs, and I felt the muscles of his wrist working as he tried to free himself gently. I shivered, sniffing.

"Emily?" he repeated, sternly this time. He grabbed my jaw and lifted my head up to meet his concerned blue eyes. I stared dumbly into the piercing orbs, which narrowed at my blank expression.

"Shock," he said. In reply, I shivered and flinched away from his strong hand. I couldn't think of anything besides The Librarian. The worried Spartan took off his dress coat; the polished medals and ribbons removed, and put it over my shoulders. I picked absently at the rank patches on the sleeve, fraying the embroidery and dulling the bright gold of the chevrons. John didn't acknowledge my ruining of his patches. I stared at my jeans and my runners, seeing but not seeing. I straightened my blank pink shirt absentmindedly.

"EMILY?" John said, louder this time. He lifted me up off the floor and I flopped against him numbly.

"You need medical attention. I don't know what put you into this state," he said, lifting me up into his arms effortlessly. I felt the world darken, and even through my hazy brain, I knew what was going to happen.

I fell unconscious.

Sometime later

UNSC Infinity

Emily

I cracked open my sore, swollen eyes and blinked, lubricating the dry spheres. I sat up slowly, the world foggy. Four pairs of eyes watched me intently- one emerald green, one a greyish blue, one a brown and the last, an unbelievable and startling icy blue. I rubbed my eyes to clear them, noticing my brain wasn't numb with fear and shutting down from shock. As I blinked, the faces came into focus and I noticed John was, ever so gently, touching my hand. Fred looked the most worried out of all of them, and Kelly was sympathetic. Linda polished her sniper rifle and didn't look up. I blinked under the combined force of the three Spartan's gazes and I looked down at the hospital's white bed sheets. I couldn't feel the rough material of my jeans and I realised I was dressed in a dark green hospital gown. My hair had been re-done in a neater ponytail.

"Are you okay?" Fred asked.

I rolled my eyes.

"Considering I was recently scared out of my wits by an ancient Forerunner called The Librarian, and captured by her psycho husband the Didact, I'm fine, thanks! Oh, and you might think I'm crazy and stuff, but you gotta believe me, you know?"

John raised an eyebrow curiously.

"The Librarian?" He asked.

"Y…yes," I squeaked under his intense gaze. Kelly couldn't sit still for any longer, and stood, pacing the room. Linda looked up suddenly and I met her eyes- their emerald green depths devouring me. I looked up at the ceiling, also avoiding John's prying eyes. Fred turned to the leader of Blue Team.

"It's time for your meeting with Lasky, John. You'll be late if you stay here any longer."

The Spartan sighed, standing abruptly. He looked at me.

"I'll be back," he said before he turned and exited out of the automatic door.

Kelly stopped pacing and gave me a look.

"What's this about The Librarian?"

I blanched as I remembered her face.

"I…I don't want to talk about it," I said nervously. She still scared the wits out of me.

"We need to know this," Fred said.

"N..No! I don't want to talk about it and I won't."

Kelly's eyebrows lowered in barely contained irritation, and she bent, sticking her nose into my face and rudely spraying droplets of spit as she spoke.

"We have other methods besides asking."

I shrunk back.

Fred didn't comment. I'd had enough of their stares and Kelly's threats. I threw away the bed's crisp white sheets, made sure my hospital gown was tied up, and slammed the button to open the door. Fred whipped around and watched me, but for some strange reason, didn't make a move to stop my angered escape. I heard shouts and quickened my angry paces into a run. My bare feet slapped on the cold white floor of the medical halls, and I looked desperately for somewhere to hide. I needed to get my anger out. I couldn't keep running all over Infinity, eventually someone would catch me; but right now that seemed to be the only viable option- who knows, maybe I might find some secluded place to drown my anger. I raced out of the hallway, straight smack into a busy corridor of the Infinity, instantly almost getting trampled by a Spartan Four decked out in full armour. He gave me an incredulous stare, his dark brown eyes confused. I rushed past, ignoring him. I ran and ran and ran until I was sure my lungs would burst and my legs would collapse. I noticed the hallways got less and less crowded, and the lights grew less bright. The air began to smell different, too- but in ways I couldn't explain. I saw some huge pipes, their ends opening into something I could crawl inside. There was one near the floor, and I bent and pulled myself inside. It smelt odd, like fuel and plants mixed together, but I didn't care. As long as it kept me hidden, that was fine by me. The pipe didn't continue back as far as I'd hoped. It sloped upwards after about three meters, into a vertical tube. I saw the rivets and bolts, the joints and the connectors, and thought maybe I could possibly pull myself up. I reached up to grab a joint, positioning my feet on a huge bolt. I pulled myself up, reaching for another bolt, and shifting my feet onto the joint that my hands were just on. I continued upwards in that fashion, and I knew that one mistake, one fall and it would all be over. Strangely, I didn't feel scared like I knew I should. I felt resigned to the fact, like it wasn't even going to happen. Finally, the pipe returned to horizontal and I collapsed on my stomach. Then I noticed that there was some sort of see through patch; I could see the corridor where I'd entered the pipe. I felt a rush of fear- if someone happened to walk through and look up… I calmed my breathing and let my fluttering heart rest, wouldn't do to hyperventilate and fall unconscious. No-one had come along here since I'd fled to this area. I didn't know where I was. I crawled further along the pipe, over the corridor and searched around the walls of the tube. This could be a maintenance pipe or something, so there'd have to be a route plan or something, wouldn't there? Eventually, the pipe darkened so I couldn't see. Still, I crawled on. I wouldn't let my legs and arms fall asleep.

Suddenly, there was nothing under them. I screamed as I fell through the murk, my hands and knees scraping the sides of the pipe painfully. I felt myself land painfully on something, and I was sure I heard something crack. I felt no sting and fire of a broken bone, though, so I pulled myself up. Something soft crunched under my hands and there was still no light. I stood, straightening out my soft hospital gown. I wandered around, feeling the walls which were the smooth metal of the Infinity's corridors. I felt around until I was sure I touched something like a light switch. I fumbled with it until the lights flashed on with extreme intensity, blinding me. I closed my eyes and waited until they grew used to the light. I opened them to see trash bags, boxes, weird containers and all sorts of things- but they all pointed to one thing: Trash. Where'd trash go on a space ship? Through an airlock, or crushed into recyclable stuff, at least that's what I'd see from the movies and tv shows I'd watched over the years. I wanted to get out, I didn't think sitting in a room full of stinking trash was particularly pleasant.

But, I gulped as I realised what was under the floor, peeking out through slightly bent metal floor plates.

Giant metal teeth.

Perfect for smashing up other bits of metal and boxes.

And probably, unfortunate little girls, too.

Near the hospital

John

"Not here!" Sarah bellowed as she looked around. Thomas Lasky raced around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of me. His brown hair was messed up and his eyes were worried.

"We've looked everywhere," he said, "I don't understand, she should stick out like a sore thumb; yet no one has seen her recently."

"Keep looking," I said sternly. I switched my gaze to Sarah, "Chances are, she'll get hurt, or do something stupid."

They both turned and hurried away. Everyone had checked all over the Infinity, besides the trash level. That's where I'd head. It was the perfect, quiet place for a drugged up, scared, and angry child. At least, that was what I thought. I reached out with my mind to see if I could find Emily that way, but I couldn't detect anything and decided she'd already blocked her thoughts and rendered her mind invisible to my probing. I stalked silently down the Infinity's corridors, towards the place that I hoped a silly child had hidden.

In the trash disposal

Emily

There was nothing in the room to help me, there was a dark patch in one wall- I decided it must be some sort of one sided window. It was too high for me to reach and attempt to smash in, so I ruled that out. The rest of the room was hexagonal, the walls a light green. I reached out with my mind, trying to reach John, but something was blocking me and I couldn't extend my thoughts out. They whiplashed back, and they hurt. I cried out and toppled into a huge box. I jumped in surprise as a chute above my head opened for a split second, and plastic bags and more boxes tumbled down next to me. There was a white line on the wall, and I had a feeling when the trash in the room reached it, the floor would open and release the rubbish that had accumulated, to be crushed by the powerful and sharp metal teeth underneath. My brain still reeled from the force of my thoughts ricocheting back. John was my only hope; but now I couldn't even reach him. I regretted my flight from the hospital- why hadn't I just waited for John, told the Spartans of Blue Team about the Librarian? I didn't know. I gulped nervously as another chute released more rubbish, one box rising perilously close to the line on the wall. I threw out my thoughts, strongly towards the one-sided glass. I didn't meet any resistance there, but I knew instantly there wasn't anyone behind the black glass. There didn't need to be, anyway. The trash system was fully automatic. I hurled my thoughts relentlessly at the barrier stopping me from reaching John, and I thought, maybe, just maybe, one of my thoughts had penetrated because I didn't feel the pain of it being forced back. There were a few faint replies, barely whispers. I recognised the strong timbre of John's voice, worried, and I thought I could detect fear in the faint tone.

Emily…. Hurt….? Emily… Where…. Where are….

They were cut off abruptly as the floor groaned, opening slowly. I yelped as I heard the metal teeth began to gnash a few small boxes that had fallen early to their peril. I scrambled to the edge of the room, far away from the grinding teeth as possible. The floor continued to recede, revealing more teeth, and I now knew that the whole floor was filled with them. Just as the room had been designed so every single piece of trash was chewed up, it offered no chance for escape for me. John would be too late now, even if he knew I was here. I cried out with my mind, for what I thought was the last time.

John! Help me!

But now, I got a strong reply.

Where are you? Emily? Tell me!

I must have screamed in my mind as one of my shoes nearly fell to the great gnashing teeth, for I felt a wave of John's strange fear wash over me. It didn't feel like normal fear, and I could find no words to describe it. The floor continued to recede; now there was barely one meter left.

I'm in some sort of trash compactor! It's going to chew me up! I shrieked.

There are hundreds of those! John cried.

There it was, undoubtedly. The Spartan was scared, and if he was, I should be too. I felt my legs freeze as they imagined the pain the teeth would create as they crushed them. I looked around for something that would set the compactor apart from the others, a number, anything. Then I saw it, my eyes sharpened from the fear racing through my body. Two numbers, tiny, printed on the opposite wall. Zero eight. Zero eight!

John! Zero eight! I'm in zero eight! I screamed through the link as the floor receded to a mere forty centimetres.

Hold on! He replied.

I scrunched my legs up to my chest, my flimsy hospital gown almost getting caught in the teeth.

Twenty.

Fifteen.

The teeth crushed boxes and rubbish mere centimetres away.

Ten.

I closed my eyes, tears burning my face. What a way to die, being crunched and gnashed by a garbage compactor. I waited.

But nothing happened. No pain of my bones being crushed, no blood spurting from my ruptured arteries and veins. My pounding heart made me feel faint. I opened my eyes to see the teeth had stopped, and the floor had stopped, too- a mere eight centimetres away from my hunched body. I reached out a foot on a closed metal jaw; it looked like the jowls of a dragon. I stood on it, jumping in surprise as the one sided window was smashed with a powerful kick. I swayed on my feet, the experience dizzying me. I fell, but not to the floor. I fell into John's arms, which wrapped me into a hug; The Spartan lifted me up, and I felt the roughness of his slight stubble- John was always clean shaven. I let my tears soak into his shirt.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said.

I didn't reply. The Spartan let me down, making sure I didn't collapse. He kneeled, looking me in the eye. His expression was one of the strange fear I'd felt from him earlier, but now it faded. I sniffed, wiping away the tears from my face.

"You saved me," I stated, still shocked.

"Of course," he replied.

I looked at the metal teeth under my feet.

"I couldn't reach you earlier. I don't know why," I murmured.

"I couldn't find you, either and that made it harder. I didn't know if you were dead or hurt or…" he broke off awkwardly. He wasn't used to showing this much emotion.

Fresh tears pushed themselves through my ducts and I looked up at John, and he turned his head away for a moment.

"I was scared I couldn't save you," he said bluntly, "Scared that I would fail in the worst way," he said, finally looking me in the eye. He turned to look at the smashed glass of the window.

"We need to go. Now. I don't know how long the override lasts for."

He beckoned me over to the wall, bending and forming a cup with his hands.

"You go first. Don't touch the glass; you'll cut your hands."

I stepped into the cup, and he pushed me up and over the sharp edges of glass that remained after his entrance. I fell to the floor with an oof, in a control room. A few monitors stood around, a red flashing text saying "Manual Override" covering the technical data and HUDs. I heard a grunt, and John simply jumped high enough to go over the sharp blades of glass.

"Are you hurt?" he asked me.

"No…No. Well, if you hadn't saved me, I wouldn't be hurt; I'd be a pile of blood and bones in a recycled plastic cube. Not to mention, dead."

John's face contorted in a strange expression.

"Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"What would have happened if I hadn't saved you."

He looked at me solemnly.

"I can't stand the thought of you dead because I failed."

I couldn't find anything to reply with, so I just gave the Spartan a hug.

"I need to take you back. Thomas has almost ripped his hair out by its roots looking for you," he said, all serious again.

Hospital Room 108^

Emily

"You almost got crushed by a trash compactor?" Sarah said disbelievingly as a doctor injected something into my arm. I winced at the sharp pain.

"Thank God for the link. If it hadn't been for it, I'd probably be plastic cutlery now. I don't fancy myself as a fork," I said, giving my saviour, who leaned against the wall, a thankful look. He blinked at me.

Of course, Thomas and Sarah knew about my strange and somewhat hampering connection with the Spartan Two, but now it wasn't hampering at all. It'd saved my life. The doctor interrupted my thoughts.

"This is just a drug to help with shock and the aches and pains that occur after such experiences."

"When I fell into the trash compartment, I couldn't see when I fell, but I didn't really feel scared for some reason. Was that another drug?"

"Yes, administered earlier while you were passed out from shock," he replied, and I winced as he removed the needles from my arm.

Sarah shook her head, her armour's servos whirring softly.

"You're the luckiest kid I've ever laid eyes on."

"It wasn't luck. It was John," I replied indignantly.

Sarah looked at the clock on the wall.

"I have to go and join Lasky. He's prepping the War Games for the Spartans, due in a day or so."

And with that, she exited with a flourish. The doctor followed suit. John's blue eyes opened slightly and he watched me intently.

"Please don't sit there and watch me like a hawk," I said sternly to the Spartan.

He continued to watch me passively, and I rolled my eyes.

"I just looove you staring at me. It makes me feel so safe. Like, you know, I'm about to be eaten by a lion." I said sarcastically.

The Spartan only quirked an eyebrow and closed his eyes again.

"You don't have to stay there."

This time, he opened his eyes and gave me a look which said "You've got no choice, so put up with it."

I didn't know John could have such a stubborn and cocky personality; he'd only shown some humour and smugness, and a great deal of seriousness, but never these kinds of emotions. I decided that me almost dying had messed with his brain. He'd probably snap out of it.

"Are you crazy?" I asked him.

Still with his eyes closed,

"I don't believe so," he replied flatly.

"When can I get up and walk around?"

He finally leaned away from the wall, uncrossed his arms and stalked over to the end of my bed. He leaned over me, mock seriously, said,

"When I say so."

"When's that?" I teased him.

It seemed largely ineffective as he stalked back over to the corner and leant against it again.

"When I say."

"When's that?"

"When I decide when."

"How long until you decide when?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know? You just said you decide when," I continued my relentless barrage of annoying, and difficult questions.

"I don't know when I'll decide when, and when I do, I'll let you know," he said, completely crushing any other alternatives to fight back with. In a flash, he'd turned the conversation to his favour. He'd known exactly what he was doing the entire time. I opened and closed my mouth, finally settling for a supremely annoyed glare which had no effect whatsoever on his smug expression.

"Where's Kelly and Fred, Linda too?"

"They have important tasks."

"That's so descriptive!" I said sarcastically.

"Perhaps that is all that I need to describe," he replied.

I felt around in the pocket of my jeans, finding my Ipod. I'd changed back into my normal clothes after John had brought me back to the hospital. I'd forgotten that the little Ipod Nano 7th gen had been in my pocket, and I was lucky that the thin lightweight music player hadn't bent. Out came the earphones, which I sniffed at with slight disgust- there was earwax on them, as they went right into my ears. I reminded myself that I should clean my ears; clean ears, no wax on earphones. John still kept his eyes closed, and before I stuck the tiny speakers into my ear, he spoke.

"Amanda will be coming, soon."

"Why? She doesn't even know me."

"The whole Infinity knows about you, Emily."

"Whoa. Really?"

"Amanda also said she was looking forward to having you help with the repair of the Pelican."

"Why would I want to work on that thing? Your Pelican, your responsibility," I scoffed.

"You're my responsibility, so my responsibilities are your responsibilities," he said.

"Since when was I your responsibility?" I asked incredulously.

"Since you decided to get yourself into a trash compactor."

"That was not my fault."

He finally opened his eyes and raised both his eyebrows at me.

"Whose was it then? Mine?"

"Yeah!" I said haughtily.

"Tell me, what part did I play?"

I just stared at him. Then I stuffed my earphones in and blasted techno music through them. John's eyes immediately narrowed and he gave me a look.

"Don't tell me! You can hear it?" I yelled accidently; I couldn't tell how loud I was. He nodded, and I paused the track.

"How well?" I asked him.

"Well enough," and he would tell me nothing more. I ripped my earphones out and glared at him.

"If you want me to turn it off, say so!"

"Hey ya'll! How's it crackin?" Amanda's cocky voice sounded from in the hallway. She stuck her face in through the door, and peered around. She beamed when she saw me. John didn't move, and the door opened with a flourish, Amanda stepped in, tossing her long blonde hair. The engineer still wore her dirty navy blue overalls.

"So ya the little time travellin kid I've heard so much 'bout?

"Er…Yeah," I replied hesitantly.

John smirked slightly at my awkward behaviour.

Shut up, I told him mentally; but his smirk only grew.

Amanda rushed forward, and pinched my cheeks.

"Ya need some food in ya belly! You're so thin! I heard you almost gotcha self crushed by some trash thing! Must have been scary, little darling!"

"It was pretty scary. I'm lucky John saved me."

The afore- mentioned Spartan's lips twitched in the ghost of a smile.

"I've heard all about ya adventures with the guy! Ya got some telepathic thing, huh?"

I was amazed at how easily information like that was leaked- I hadn't even known Amanda knew, and judging by the look on John's face, he hadn't either.

"Err…Yeah."

"Show me! I wanna see if these rumours a' true!"

I don't like her very much, I sent to John dejectedly.

You'll get used to her, he replied.

"Well? Whatcha say?" Amanda asked.

"Emily said that she really likes you," John replied.

I was going to kill him later.

"Awww, thanks lil' darling! Now, we've gotta get some food for ya! Ya need that lil' belly to be full before we work on the Pelican!"

Now you can get up, John thought to me smugly.

Someday, I'm going to beat the stuffing out of you, I shot back.

Good luck, he replied.

I glared at him and he only offered me a reserved look in return.

On The Way To Emily's Quarters

John

Emily staggered erratically, her belly swollen. Amanda had stuffed her to the brim, with chicken, potatoes, and all sorts of things that the Infinity's canteen could churn out. I'd eaten a good amount myself- but not enough to turn me into a stumbling, groaning idiot. I laughed mentally as Emily almost smashed into the wall.

"I can't believe Amanda is going to make me work on that Pelican in an hour," she groaned.

"Can I go to your room instead?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Because it's closer, that's why!"

I shook my head in dismay.

"Don't throw up on my floor; you'll be cleaning it up."

John's Quarters

Emily

I flopped onto the Spartan's bed, my stomach aching horribly. I remember John's amused expression in the canteen, when Amanda had stuffed spoonful after spoonful of food into my mouth. He'd not made a move to help me at all. I felt the Spartan grab me by the collar and drop me onto the chair by his desk.

"Hey!" I said in dismay. He took the spot on the bed where I'd just been sitting, and gave me one of his "deal with it" looks. I folded my arms, and the Spartan Two gave me adeprecating look.

"I'm happy that you're in my world, Emily," the Spartan announced suddenly.

"Under these circumstances, I think this meeting is different on many levels," I said, attempting to copy John's perfect, measured speech and humour. He merely gave me a weird look.

"Don't try to copy me, for your jokes will fall short and your life will end from embarrassment."

I blew a wisp of my honey blonde hair out of my face and swivelled on the desk chair.

"Well, hello there Mister Smarty Pants. Please don't play your mind games or I may be forced to slap you."

"I am not playing any games. That is, unless you'd like to."

I stopped swivelling on the chair and gave him a withering look.

"You're going to do it anyway, aren't you?"

"I have done nothing."

I attempted to stare the Spartan down, but as always John's unblinking, impenetrable gaze won out. I looked at the floor.

"I don't know why the Librarian came to me, if that's what you want to know. I'm not special, I'm just an ordinary kid," I said, letting my hair out of its ponytail and twirling it, "No matter how you put it, it all comes back to the fact that I'm, well, nothing. I'm not important, rich, particularly talented heck, I can't even handstand! It doesn't make any sense. Why me?"

The super soldier across the room regarded me, listening to my outburst.

"The things that you have done may be the cause," he replied.

"What have I done? I haven't saved anyone. I've mostly been saved myself."

The Spartan became intensely interested in his boots for a moment.

"What you've done to me."

I blinked at his meaning. Of course I'd changed the Spartan; he was more human now, more emotional, and more fun.

"Well, yeah, I guess changing someone as important to the galaxy as you could be a kind of reason."

Some sort of timer chimed seemingly from nowhere, and I jumped involuntarily.

"Do I really have to work on the Pelican?" I whined.

"Yes," John replied firmly.

I dragged my bottom off the chair, deliberately knocking a pile of papers from John's desk to punish him- but the Spartan shot across the room and grabbed them, in exactly the order they were before. He set them back on his desk and turned to raise an eyebrow.

"Don't bother knocking things over. Sudden movements only make me react faster."

I ignored him and pushed past, dragging my feet dejectedly. I wasn't looking forward to working on the damn Pelican!

Launch Pedestal 0591

Emily

"She's gotta 'lil' more work left on 'er, and by that I mean heaps more 'n' I aint cutting yers any slack. Even the primmed princess of perfectville is gonna join in," Amanda smirked, throwing a sly glance at me. I blanched at the thought of getting grease and grime..and ugh…in my precious hair. Amanda roared with laughter at my disgusted expression.

"Don't ya worry! It'll be heapsa fun!"

"More like heapsa torture," I scoffed quietly.

Fred gave me a rueful glance.

Thomas Lasky's Office

Thomas Lasky

"Every time that kid comes here, the Infinity deviates from its course," an engineer explained, "as the engines are Forerunner- it's safe to say the interference is Forerunner, too. The momentary deviation of the engines from their normal operations may seem harmless, but really it's causing damage to internal parts as the disturbance violently reverses and changes electrical fields and magnetic coils."

"Is it life threatening?" I asked.

The engineer shuffled his boots and looked away for a moment.

"Potentially. That is, if the child keeps coming here."

I arranged some notes on my desktop and filed them into the drawer in my classic twenty first century desk; even off duty there was still work to be done.

"Some parts that need to be replaced and the repairs that need to be completed can only be done at a major space port, sir. Our options at this point are still limited; we can hold her together but we can't fix her."

The engineer seemed dead on his feet- he'd obviously been supervising the premature repairs on the engines. I waved a hand distractedly as I read a file.

"You've earned a rest. I'll assign another engineer to your shift."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," the engineer said gratefully as he hurried out of the small, stuffy room. I shook my head ruefully. The mightiest weapon in the UNSC's arsenal was falling apart because of a twelve year old girl and a light- the irony was almost bordering on ridiculous. I looked up as Sarah stalked in.

"Yes?"

"Cut the attitude, you know I always visit," she retorted against my disinterested tone. I looked up and clasped my hands together, giving her a sceptical look.

"So what'd the engineer have to say?"

"It's as we feared, Emily's the cause of the damage, but now we know it's almost definitely the Librarian from John's guess, that she controls the light."

Sarah paced.

"We can't exactly stop the Librarian from taking her or bringing her or whatever. We could kill her, but that's unreasonable and stupid. Not to mention morally wrong, and I don't think it would go down too well with John."

I raised an eyebrow at the copper haired Spartan.

"Too well? He would hunt whoever did it down and kill them. Be it a Spartan commander or a space ship commander, he wouldn't stop."

Sarah snorted, and shifted in her armour.

"I think Halsey went overkill with those twos. I mean- six years old? Come on. That's unethical."

"Sarah, they're a great asset. They aren't machines, no matter how much it may seem like it, and you can tell perfectly from John and Emily," I corrected her.

Launch Pedestal 0591

Emily

I examined the dirt and grease under my nails and ran a hand through my ponytail, feeling the sticky grime and sweat encrusted in the golden strands. I screwed up my nose in disgust. I leant against the Pelican; my arms ached and there was a painful lump on my head where I'd bumped it on a bulkhead. I closed my eyes, but I soon felt four gazes trained on me and I cracked open a dry, irritated eye. Every Spartan on Blue Team regarded me with blank expressions, John far by the most stoic. Amanda leapt out of the troop bay and waltzed in front of them, tossing her blonde hair.

"She's still got some work- but otherwise ya all doin' good," she said, with wink at Fred; I rolled my eyes at the Spartans expression as it changed from blank to miffed and confused.

"Pleaaaaase tell me we're done?" I begged.

"Yeah, go off on ya interstellar adventures wi' this guy," she said, slapping John on the shoulder. He watched her intently with an unreadable expression. Amanda tutted a finger.

"But come back here tomorrow, or ya'll be in fer a world a pain," she smirked at me, toying with her blonde hair. John switched his gaze to me, and I still couldn't read the expression.

"What are you looking at?" I demanded. He didn't reply, but he looked away obediently. I turned my back on the Spartans and Amanda, forced my sore legs to work, and strode across the pedestal. I reached the steps and stumbled down them; none of the Spartans followed and I guessed they were probably discussing the Pelican with Amy. I made my way across the hangar and past other pedestals, heading to the dormitories. The gigantic hangar dwarfed anything I'd ever seen- a Pelican whooshed over my head as it lined up to fly through an exit tunnel. A smaller craft moved itself in position to land on a pedestal, I'd seen it before in Halo 4- it was an F-41 Broadsword. It had medium length wings, which curved slightly forwards and had tips that swept slightly upwards. Small, stubby stabilising fins created the tail, which blended into the body; there was two horizontal on either side, and one small vertical fin which extended underneath the space craft. The nose and cockpit screen was like that of a fighter jet, except the nose was more rounded and larger. The small craft extended small black wheels and touched down on the pedestal with such gentleness, it seemed like it weighed nothing. I wanted to get a closer look- this thing was waaaay cooler that that dumb Pelican, and plus, I wanted to meet the pilot of such an awesome thing. I hurried over to the steps on the base of the Broadsword's pedestal, taking a moment to straighten my shirt, untangle some of my hair and pick out some dirt from under my nails. I probably didn't have permission to do any of this, but it seemed like I could get away with a few things; I'd take the risk. I rushed up the stairs and out onto the platform, almost colliding with the pilot.

I halted suddenly and looked up into a pair of sparkling greenish blue eyes, holding intelligence much like Johns, but kinder, friendlier. I flushed with surprise and didn't say hello, looking at the man's polished black boots.

"Hello? Are you the time travelling girl? You must be, because there have never been any children aboard besides you," he said in a thick accent, something I couldn't recognise. I looked up in surprise, taking in the man's face this time. He looked between twenty and thirty; there weren't many wrinkles on his face. He had short, spiky blonde hair, and his face was smoothly lined, with a sharp jaw and cheekbones. Again, the pilot's eyes startled me with their warm intelligence. The pilot wore some kind of G-suit, but not as bulky as my world's; his helmet was held under his arm, so I could see it had a hard light display for a HUD, and an insignia of two eagles fighting, both clutching lightning bolts and swords in their talons.

"I…er… Yeah, I am."

He smiled kindly.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Emily. I came here to look at your ship. I couldn't help myself, it looks so awesome!" I said, deciding to give him a compliment.

"Please to meet you, my lady," he said formally, kneeling and kissing my hand, "Thank you, my lady."

I giggled stupidly. My lady? I could get used to this.

"What's your name, oh charming pilot?" I said grandly.

"Henryk, at the ladies' service," he announced with a bow, "Would you like to see my fighter?" he asked.

"Of course!" I said, walking over to the spacecraft. It was about twenty meters long and had a wingspan of about nineteen. A step ladder allowed me to look into the cockpit. I gasped as I saw the fancy controls, none of the instruments recognisable to me. The blue lights on the needles and dials glowed. The craft had smoother lines up close, the short wings curving very elegantly. I stepped down and smiled at Henryk, who returned it- but his was simply dazzling.

"Wow! Cool! If you don't mind me asking, what nationality are you? I think I recognise your accent…."

Henryk silenced my shy question with a wink.

"I like to be a man of mystery," and that was all he would say.

The Equivalent of Morning

Emily's Room

Emily

I smiled as I remembered Henryk's fabulous grin and smooth features. I still didn't know much about the guy- not his exact age, nor his last name, his nationality, nothing about his past and almost certainly nothing of his service record. The mysterious pilot's accent reminded me of something, although I couldn't put my finger on it. It wasn't a Russian accent, definitely not, it wasn't German. All I knew is that it sounded suspiciously European, but then again, accents could have changed in this world. American and Australian accents sounded the same, but then again they have been the only ones I've heard so far. I slithered out from under the bed sheets, grabbed my clothes and proceeded to shower. I'd probably have to work on the Pelican again, so I'd better prepare myself before I get the call.

Emily? John asked inside my head.

I squeaked in surprise and quickly closed my eyes so John wouldn't see anything.

Eeeeeeeeeeek! JOHN!?

He totally ignored my squeal of surprise.

Who is Henryk?

Um….He's this pilot I met yesterday when I went to see his Broadsword. That's his space craft. Since when have you cared? I asked irritably.

Since the Librarian has decided that I have to take care of you, he replied flatly.

I still don't understand your crazy mixed up Spartan motives. You're too weird for me to figure out; it's like a maze with octopus tentacles trying to tangle you up, you get somewhere and you just fail.

Thanks for the compliment, John replied sarcastically. Then he was gone.

A Few Minutes Later

Emily's Room

Emily

"Cortana! I don't want to work on the Pelican! D-O-N-T. I hate it."

The thirty centimetre tall, blue figure crossed her arms and flicked a strand of holographic black hair out of her eye; electrical circuit patterns flowed all over her body. Her hovering figure gave me a mock disappointed look.

"But, Henryk…."

I perked up.

"What?"

"He's coming to help out."

"Is he? Hang on! I gotta fix up my hair!" I said, charging back into the bathroom.

"You're not going on a date!" Cortana exclaimed from behind me.

"No, I'm not, but I still gotta look nice."

"Your hard work will just get messed up in five minutes," she commented.

I remembered my wiry greasy hair from before and I winced.

"Whatever. Let's go!" I said, flinging open the door and charging out into the busy corridor of the Infinity.

I arrived puffing and panting at the foot of Blue Team's Pelican launch pedestal. My legs ached from lactic acid, and my lungs felt like they'd burst. I sat down on the bottom step and started to recover. I heard footsteps and boots crossed in front of my line of vison, and I looked up to meet Henryk's kind eyes.

"A problem, my lady?"

I smiled exhaustedly.

"I can't make it up the steps, Henryk."

"Allow me, my lady," he said, and with that, I was hoisted into his arms with next to no effort. I giggled happily, going limp to let my legs recover from running all over the Infinity. Henryk smelt fresh, like soap; I blinked as I inhaled the strange scent. Henryk wore something akin to what John wore- the long sleeved grey shirt and long black pants, and the same coloured boots. However, Henryk's didn't look like they'd been polished for an hour straight, and my thoughts of John being overkill was clearly proved. The pilot started up the steps and in no time we were crossing the top of the pedestal to the waiting Pelican. Amanda wasn't there yet for some reason, and I hoped desperately that I could get out of working on the Pelican. Henryk set me down in front of John.

"Your charge, sir," he said, slightly sarcastically. John just blinked once, very slowly. Henryk again, took my hand and kissed it.

"Were my services suitable, my lady?"

I giggled.

"Yes, Henryk," I said, shooting a look-what-I've-got glance at John. I thought I saw them roll, just slightly. Linda tapped the side of the Pelican suggestively.

"The seats in the troop bay, we have to remove them. Amanda told us yesterday, because she wasn't going to be here. She's got a meeting in Engineering," the Spartan sniper announced.

I turned curiously to Henryk.

"Why are you here anyway?"

He smiled bedazzlingly.

"Amanda saw us yesterday and decided I may like to help you work," he replied in his strange, lilting accent, "For whatever reason, I'm not sure why she asked me."

I smiled up at the pilot. He was tall, but not as tall as John, probably a few inches shorter. I stalked dejectedly over to the back of the Pelican and peered inside, gaping as I noted the amount of seats to take out. Fifteen! Fifteen seats! Suddenly, I felt a looming presence behind me and I whirled around, smacking straight into John. I stepped back, rubbing my nose. The Spartan's muscles were rock hard, as usual. John looked down at me, but didn't apologize.

"Don't sneak up behind people," I said angrily, and the Spartan's icy blue eyes seemed to show his assent. Henryk's voice sounded behind me.

"There are six bolts on each chair, three to fix the base to the ground, and another three to fix the headrest to the wall. Each bolt should take around five to ten minutes to remove," Henryk explained in his weird accent.

"Oh, just great. Kill me now, please."

Henryk turned me around gently and smiled his brilliant white smile.

"I'll be glad to lend my services to the lady again, if she likes," he said formally.

I giggled.

I'm sure I heard some of the Spartans sigh.

A Few Hours Later

War Game Prep Room

John

"You all know how the system works, you know the maps, the weapons, the vehicles, but this time it's different! There will be no armour shields, and no ammo pickups. You will spawn with the gun you choose and the ammo in the clip shall be the only ammo you will get!" Sarah announced, "There will be no motion detectors, no night vision! You'll be equipped with a knife, so if you run out of bullets you can still defend yourself with a weapon. ETA to start, one hour. Get yourself ready, Spartans!"

Kelly rolled her eyes.

"She always acts like she's in charge. Really, it's the people she calls "egg heads" that are in charge," she commented. Fred examined his assault rifle, "I'm looking forward to kicking her butt," he said.

"Not before me, you don't," I replied.

Fred smiled a little, "Looks like I'll have to get rid of you, too."

"Good luck with that," Linda said as she absent-mindedly polished her sniper rifle lens. I gave Fred a superior look, and he raised an eyebrow.

"We shall see," he said.

Thirty Minutes Later

Near the Armoury

Emily

"Wow Henryk! You're amazing!"

The handsome pilot smiled, his greenish blue eyes glittering with the praise.

"Thank you, my lady," he replied.

I giggled and slapped him on the shoulder. No one had ever treated me with the respect that Henryk did, or called me "lady". Usually, and very rarely, it was just "miss". I looked up as Sarah Palmer strode towards us, her coppery red hair tied in a bun which was tucked into the neck of her tight black undersuit. She was in full armour, too and I knew the power that she now had. She slowed her stride.

"There's a War Game about to commence, if either of you would want to watch from the viewing room," she said, pointing in the direction we were heading, "Right down the end. Blue Team will be participating. Just one of those Spartans can take down a whole squad of us, the bastards," she finished, continuing her heavy armoured walk. Henryk turned to me.

"I think we'll find John quite entertaining, don't you think?"

I nodded enthusiastically.

"I should think so, Henryk!"

One Hour and a Half Later

Viewing Room 1BA2

Emily

It was like watching a battlefield, but from above. You could use the screens in front of you to switch camera views on different Spartans, because it was a lot like a computer game- but a whole lot more real. War Games were a virtual world created by computers, and I wasn't exactly sure how it worked. The Spartans could die in the simulation, but they wouldn't actually die. Apparently the Spartans were hooked up to a machine which scanned their armour and body and used the information to create an "avatar". The Spartans were immobile while they were hooked up, the machine reading brain impulses to tell the avatar where to move. Right now, only Fireteam Majestic, comprising of Gabriel Thorne, Paul Demarco, Carlo Hoya, Anthony Madsen and Tedra Grant remained. Of the Spartans of Blue team only John remained, the other members had glitched out for some unknown reason, and I knew that that Kelly, Fred and Linda were probably taking off their armour, fuming. Sarah was still in the game, by herself. I flicked the screen, switching the camera view to John. Up came the familiar orange visor, and the olive green armour. He somehow, moved silently, and almost amazingly, blended into the wet, dense rainforest around him. The environment's namesake proved true, as droplets of water slid slowly down the Master Chief's visor.

It was hard to think of John being in that armour, now, so I made do with calling him that. I gaped in shock as I saw that Chief was barely five meters away from Palmer. I took stock of the fact that he had no ammo- he'd either have to use his fists or the deadly combat knife magnetically locked to his thigh.

"He's very good," Henryk commented in his strange accent.

"He was made to be. He could sneak up on you in a field of flat, dead grass and still scare you."

"He'll have to make his move soon."

The Spartan two had disconnected the knife swiftly and silently, moving slightly towards Sarah. Something must have tipped her off, for she looked up suddenly,

But in totally the wrong direction.

Fast as lightning, the Master Chief smashed into the commander, knocking her over with a shriek of crashing armour. The damp surroundings muffled the noise instantly.

"There you are!" Sarah spat through her helmet's speakers, as she vainly attempted to stop Chief's knife from ending her avatar's life. The tough undersuit of her armour was probably weaker at her neck, and I was pretty sure Chief knew it, too.

"Jesus…So.. strong," Sarah growled angrily. There was nothing she could do that would stop the Spartan two from bringing the knife closer, and closer still. The Master Chief stayed silent, the orange visor impenetrable, and Sarah struggled beneath the weight of him and his armour, but he was simply too heavy and too strong. I noticed Palmer's left hand sneaking down her side, and I finally saw the pistol attached to the magnetic hard point there. She braced her shoulder and elbow against a rock, using her right hand to slow the knife's progress towards her throat. She eased out the pistol, slowly, slowly-

Click.

The small weapon made a noise as it disconnected from the magnetic field. Chief moved, fast as a cheetah, wrenching it out of her hand and tossing it into the trees. With his other, he overwhelmed Sarah's grip on his knife, slashing it with immense power through the undersuit. I winced, waiting for the steady pulse of blood, and Sarah's dying gasps, but there was nothing. Sarah's avatar simply grew still. I glanced over at Thomas Lasky behind another screen- he was smiling and shaking his head.

"He gets her every time," he muttered quietly.

I smiled up at Henryk's spiky hair and friendly eyes, and he returned the smile. Chief withdrew the knife and stalked back into the dense forest, wet leaves trailing droplets of water on his armour. After a few minutes, I saw he'd tracked, and followed Fireteam Majestic. Gabriel Thorne was probably his next target; he was at the rear.

"Where is he? Or she? One of em's gotta be onto us by now," Thorne commented.

"Either that, or they're both onto us. This is why we don't play War Games with veteran Spartans, and especially not the Master Chief," Paul Demarco said sourly.

Chief simply exited the bush he was hiding in, jerked Gabriel's head back, and slashed open his throat. Lightning flashed for a split second, blinding the camera and illuminating the forest.

Then the Master Chief was gone.

He left Thorne's limp body crumpled on the wet, muddy ground. Rain poured over the armour. Anthony cried out as he noticed, "They got Gabriel!"

"Jesus! We didn't even see whoever that was! But now we know one of them is in the area, keep your eyes peeled. We can't let them kill any more of us!" Paul exclaimed. Little did the leader of Fireteam Majestic know that the Master Chief was nearly touching Carlo Hoya. The seven foot tall Spartan Two pulled the smaller Four into the bushes, dispatching him before he could make a sound.

"Only three more," Henryk observed.

Not for long, however. Anthony Madsen and Tedra Grant were also gone, and all in the next five minutes. Paul had no idea where Chief was, now. He wheeled about at the slightest noise, and yelled angrily into the dripping forest.

"Come out and fight! No more sneaky crap!" he exclaimed angrily. He turned away from the bush that the Master Chief was hiding in, and the Spartan Two didn't give the Fireteam leader another chance- he leapt out of the undergrowth, smashing an armoured fist into the back of Demarco's helmet. The Spartan Four stumbled, swivelling around as the Master Chief delivered a vicious uppercut to his chin, which caused the smaller Spartan's head to whip backwards and he flew through the air, landing in a crumpled heap. I automatically grabbed Henryk's arm in a death grip; I didn't like to see anything or anyone get hurt, even avatars. The pilot squeezed back sympathetically. I turned my attention back to the screen, Chief now stalking in circles around the semi-conscious Spartan Four. I was surprised, was this a show of gentleman ship, not kicking Paul while he was down? I didn't know, I didn't know if the man under all that armour could feel that. The Fireteam leader struggled to his feet, and spat venom.

"Just kill me and be done with it!"

The Master Chief, as usual, didn't seem obliged to say anything. Demarco threw himself towards the Spartan Two, but Chief dodged easily and smashed yet another fist into Paul's helmet. I was surprised at how strong the metal was; it wasn't even dented yet, but this time the helmet flew off, and I got a good look at Demarco's angry face. He had a shaved head, and very annoyed brown eyes. His pale face screwed up with rage as his helmet thudded softly onto the wet, leafy ground. Rain dripped down his face as the Spartan Four was drenched.

"Unfair play, now!" he spat.

Chief had other ideas. He swiftly lifted off his helmet with a pneumatic hiss as the air inside was released.

I didn't think I could recognise the avatar's face- I still couldn't think of Chief as John. I'd never seen his eyes this blank, or disinterested, and he didn't seem to notice the rain dripping down his scarred face and drenching his hair. He just stared at Demarco with an intensity, which even in the control room, caused my stomach to squirm uncomfortably. He'd never fix such a deadly, predatory gaze on me knowingly. It would scare me out of my wits. Paul launched a fist towards the Chief's face, but I didn't expect it to get very far, and I was right. With a blur, his arm blocked the Spartan Four's fist and retaliated likewise with a blow that knocked the Fireteam leader off his feet.

I bit my lip, waiting for his skull to crack, to ooze brain and blood, but nothing happened. In real life, Spartan bones were almost unbreakable, but Chief would almost certainly have given Paul horrible brain damage. I guess the War Game processed that, too, for Demarco didn't move.

The Master Chief had won.

A Few Minutes Later

Emily

"Excuse me, where are the Spartans who participated in the War Game?" I asked a passing blonde haired scientist. He halted stiffly with a flourish of his white lab coat, pointing to Henryk and my right, down a busy corridor.

"Right down the end of there. Good day," and he bustled off.

"C'mon Henryk! I wanna see him before he takes his armour off!" I said, tugging the amused pilot behind me as I walked quickly down the corridor. I recognised Demarco and figured we were on the right track as the rest of Fireteam Majestic followed. Every single member had annoyed expressions on their stern faces, and they were still kitted out in armour. Thorne glanced behind him for a moment.

"If that's who you're looking for, there he is," he said, jerking his head to gesture.

I didn't acknowledge him.

I was too busy staring at the Master Chief. I had to crane my neck back to look up into the orange visor of his helmet. Henryk took a step back, but I didn't move. He was at least two or three feet taller than me and I gaped, awed.

"Oh my gosh oh my gosh I never imagined you'd be this big! I mean, I know how big you are but I didn't really know and…" I silenced myself as I realised the Spartan hadn't said anything, or moved. His orange visor just stared down at me. I saw my sheepish expression reflected in it, and I squeaked as even the visor had the intensity of the man's eyes that I knew was under all that armour. I reached out hesitantly to touch the armour, then realised what I was doing and snatched my hand back. My insides squirmed, and I looked shyly at the floor, shuffling my feet.

I felt something cold and rubbery touch my hand and I glanced up in surprise to find the Master Chief had grabbed it. I lifted it, examining the armour. The back of his hand had a small patch of armour, and had separate pieces for every joint in his fingers. On his palm there was nothing, just the textured black undersuit. I eyed the Spartan nervously. How would he react to my examination? A lock of my hair fell in front of my eyes and I dropped Chief's hand to flick it away. It wouldn't sit anywhere; just kept falling back into place. I played with it, not wanting to have that squirming feeling as the impenetrable visor stared at me. Suddenly, it was flicked behind my ear, and I looked up with shock as I realised who'd done it. Had the Master Chief really just done that?

I gaped in shock as the Spartan continued on his way, and I was left remembering the cold touch of metal on my cheek as he'd swept the irritating hair away from my face. I shivered involuntarily.

"Emily….He's not usually like that is he?" Henryk asked.

"No…No, he's not."

Twenty Minutes Later

Henryk's Quarters

Emily

"I honestly don't know what made him do that. It made me feel really weird, and I don't exactly know what I mean by "weird"," I said as I sat on Henryk's desk chair. The strangely accented pilot's room was very much like John's, but slightly messier- the bed wasn't made and I few pieces of paper lay crumpled like dead leaves on the floor.

"I don't know, either. Maybe he just had a moment, that's all"

I shook my head.

"No…I don't think so…" I sighed, "Can we please leave the subject?"

The handsome pilot sitting on the bed smiled.

"Of course."

I peered intently into those bluish green eyes.

"Let's talk about you. Where are you from? On a better thought, I don't know every single planet in this world, so I'll go with what nationality are you. As you can probably tell, I'm Australian."

Henryk winked and tutted a finger.

"I said I was a man of mystery."

"Hmmm…Lets play a game. You ask me a question, and I promise I'll answer it truthfully, and if I DO answer it, I get to ask YOU a question, and you have to answer it," I suggested, "Wanna play?"

The pilot smiled like a shark.

"Sounds fun. Let's play."

"I get to go first," I said, "How old are you?"

"Twenty four. What's your last name?"

"Taylor. Can you speak any different languages?"

He spewed out a stream of unrecognisable stuff in an even weirder accent and I decided that was a different language.

"Do you like flowers?" he asked.

"Yeah. What nationality are you? Not to be rude, but you sound really weird."

"My mother was Polish and my father was Finnish, hence my," he pointed to the spiky blonde hair on his head, "and my accent is strange because it's half so as well," he said, "My turn. Do you love John?"

I blinked in surprise.

"Umm. Weeeeell….In a weird way, yes, he's like my protector, you know so I suppose I love him for it. That is, if that's what you mean," I said sheepishly.

Henryk nodded thoughtfully.

"My turn. What do you think of moi?" I said, pointing to myself.

He gave me a bedazzling smile.

"The cutest thing I've ever seen. So adorable!" he said flatteringly. I blushed a little and looked at the floor.

"What do you think of me?" he asked with a wink.

I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, you're very handsome, you have great hair and a good nature, and you're the living embodiment of Prince Charming," I said, the slightest bit sarcastically, "Well, a Polinish one," I laughed, combining Finnish and Polish. Henryk laughed too, and I giggled because he sounded like a demented hyena.

"I think the esteemed lady should visit the Spartan Two's quarters," he announced suddenly.

"Why?"

"Because what's between you is unfinished, and the worst kind of business is unfinished business. If you don't sort this out now, it'll be awkward and will only hurt you both," he explained gently, "But first, I've got something that might help," and he reached into the left pocket on his pants, and produced a hairclip, I squealed in delight as I saw it was made of glimmering and sparkling metal, in the shape of a pink daisy. Henryk smiled his shark-smile and motioned me closer, reaching into his right pocket and retrieving a sparkly silver hair band. I clapped my hands together; even a tomboy like me loved to get new hair, or fashion things. I turned and let him redo my ponytail with the new hairband. The pilot seemed to have an eye for prettiness, for he pulled a few strands free and let them dangle down my neck, and I put the flower clip into my hair.

"Wow! Where'd you get these? They'll just get wasted on John, anyway. He doesn't really notice these kinds of things."

"They were my mother's," he said, smiling, "and nonsense. The Spartan knows when he's looking at a pretty young lady."

I giggled.

"I'm still scared of him, though."

"He's your "protector". He wouldn't lay a finger on you, and you know it."

A Few Minutes Later

In Front of S-117's Door

Emily

My teeth chattered nervously, and I whispered angrily to Henryk.

"Go away! He can't be allowed see you!"

The pilot obeyed and hurried away with a wolfish grin on his face. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door, and waited. One second, two seconds, three seconds, fou-

The door swung open, and I squeaked as John looked down at me. I chewed a nail nervously, and shifted under the intense blue gaze.

"Errm…Hello?" I began.

John just appeared to be waiting for something.

"Can I er…Come in or something?"

Still, he just stared at me reservedly, and I thought I saw a hint of sarcasm in his eyes.

"Please?"

He stepped away from the door, a gesture that told me to come in. I flopped down on his desk chair and looked at the wall as the Spartan closed the door. He turned to fix me with a slightly curious, and also miffed gaze. I played with my fingernail.

"Look, I'm sorry about-"

He held up a hand.

"But-"

A glare this time and I shut my mouth with an audible snap.

"You don't need to apologize," he said bluntly, "I should be."

I shook my head and squirmed uncomfortably on the chair.

"No, no no. I shouldn't have….Oh I dunno! Neither of us should apologize!" I said in dismay, "Don't worry about it."

He nodded absent-mindedly, but then his eyes narrowed at a point above my head, and I realised he was looking at the flower clip that Henryk had given me.

"Who gave you that?"

"Oh, the clip and all that? That was Henryk. He's the best guy ever!"

John widened his eyes in mock shock, and I was surprised at how different he seemed out of his armour- not as serious, more emotional, and I must say, a lot more fun to be around, although he had annoying sarcastic tendencies and insults that he veiled very well.

"What about me?" he asked, in mock dismay. I laughed.

"Okay, okay, you're pretty awesome too," I admitted.

John seemed to search for something.

"You are very….er…?" he said, somewhat estranged. A weird expression contorted his face.

"Pretty?" I attempted to finish for him.

He shook his head ever so slightly.

"That was not what I was going to say," he said a tad awkwardly. Probably knew it hurt my feelings, but he didn't show recognition of that. Usual behaviour.

I flicked my ponytail and proceeded to spin on the comfy desk chair, making myself feel sick. After about twenty spins, I was stopped suddenly by a hand on the back of the chair. I opened my mouth to protest as John crossed in front of me, bending down to stare very closely at me. His breath didn't smell of anything, oddly. I opened my mouth and breathed air at him; I noticed with a flash of cruel pleasure that his eye twitched and they both narrowed. My breath obviously stunk. He whispered in my face, on the verge of threatening.

"If you like to spin, I can get you into a G-simulator," he said, the breath from his words blowing my hair a little.

I paled as I thought of the spinning pods that astronauts, and jet pilots used in my world to train. I whispered back, nastily- making sure my foul breath reached him as much as possible.

"I think I'll stick to the chair thanks," I spat.

The Spartan closed his eyes for a moment, probably recovering from my renowned stinky breath. He finally stood, withdrawing his face from my personal space, and I stuck out my tongue. He opened his eyes, blinked, and then gave me a look that was close to being sly. Jeez, the guy had the most unpredictable facial expressions I'd ever seen. One moment, he was serious, the next he was amused; next he could be sly, like he was now. He was probably plotting some punishment for my foul breath, and I wouldn't put it past him to do just that.

Then I felt the presence. Heavy, strong. Some animal instinct, long buried by millions of years, ignited; it gave me a desire to run, to hide- to find shelter. I looked around wildly, John catching my eye. I probably had huge eyes, with small irises and huge whites. I could tell that the Spartan knew exactly what I was scared of, and he pulled me off the chair. I tried to fight towards the door, to find the sanctuary that instinct demanded I find- but John's grip held me firm, and I knew there would be no escaping the Spartan. He roughly pushed me behind him as the lights in the room went out, the air cycling machines halting their continuous whirring. John's room grew silent, save from the breathing of the owner, and the frantic rhythm of my own. Goose flesh rose on my arms, and I fastened a death grip on John's arm as the room grew bitterly cold; I could feel the frost forming on my eyelashes. Throughout all this, the Spartan's pulse didn't change, my grip on his arm allowing me to feel it.

Then the Light decided to make its appearance, blinding me, but this time it burnt, hurting me. It was literally a miniature sun, and I felt the skin on my face blister and crack, bubbling. I screamed. John acted, pushing me to the floor and hunching over me. His silhouette was framed against the Light, and I smelt flesh burning-whether it was my own, or his, I couldn't tell. His blue eyes gleamed in the light, then were squeezed shut. The only reason I wasn't a pile of molten gloop was the wall between me and the Light, made of enhanced muscle and virtually unbreakable bones; sheer mental strength. Then I felt the sucking feeling- we were about to get sucked into the Light. We were, again, at the Librarian's whim. I spun into the horrible Light, losing my grip on John's arm.

The last thing I heard before I passed out was John's voice, raised in a yelp of pain and shock.

John

I tumbled endlessly through the vortex, wincing as the skin on my back bubbled and cooled. I fought to stay awake. Where ever I came out, I would probably need to defend myself. I felt something within the Light weaken. Suddenly the light that seemed to form some sort of tunnel broke, spewing me out about five hundred feet into the air, above a dense and snowy pine forest. A frail winter sun glowed; it was probably midday. I flailed my arms- Spartans could only fall a maximum of thirty meters without cracking a bone, and as I fell I prepared for the inability to walk, or to move a part of my body. Twenty meters, ten, five-

Splosh.

I crashed into a patch of ice I hadn't seen, the thin crust breaking as I splashed into a freezing pond. I was thankful the ice hadn't been any thicker, because that could have had the momentum-breaking force of smacking into concrete. Already, my fingers were numb and my boots sodden. I swam to the surface, gasping in a breath. The icy water chilled my back, but it hurt. At least it stopped my burnt flesh from bubbling. I dragged myself up onto the ice, praying my enhanced muscles and bones wouldn't crack the ice- the augmentations had caused my muscles to be denser and denser meant heavier. The coating on my bones didn't help, either, and add on the fact that I probably weighed another three kilos from all the water my boots and clothes had soaked up, and the ice breaking was probably inevitable.

I knew weighing close to one hundred and forty kilograms without being soaked would come to a disadvantage someday, and I crawled slowly across the ice. I shouldn't stand up. That would focus too much of my weight on one spot. So far, so good. No cracks. I'd landed smack in the centre of the small lake, dangerous because that was the weakest spot for the ice. I needed to get to the edges.

I didn't hear the ice crack, and a wash of embarrassment flowed over me as I fell into the icy water. I winced as my back came into contact with a piece of freed ice, the frozen water scraping along the scabs and sores that had already begun to form. I heaved myself out again, fingers numbed by the cold.

Snow begun to fall, the small flakes embedding themselves in my drenched clothes and hair. I reached the boundaries of the lake, standing unsteadily in the snow. I staggered against a pine tree, the strength draining out of my legs as I collapsed into the powdery white ground. My face sunk in a foot, and I flailed to breathe. I couldn't find the strength to pull myself out, and I fell limp, suffocating in the snow.

What a fabulous way to die, I thought wryly.

Then I heard the footsteps, long before I felt the warm breath on my neck.

A growl, then teeth fastened into my collar, tugging at the burnt remains of my shirt. I was rolled over, and I took a deep breath.

A wolf crouched over me, the same colour as the snow around me- pure white. No blood stained its muzzle, and its eyes were the colour of the setting sun.

"Welcome back, John," it said.

Oliver's House

Oliver

Vega pulled. I pulled back. The brown Staffy cross growled. The stick was pulled. The stick was tugged.

I let go of the stick.

Vega trotted away triumphantly. I huffed and sat on the grass, pouting. Daisy, my little six year old sister, jumped happily on the trampoline, the springs fixed to the black mat squeaking. The chickens, down the other end of the yard, clucked happily as they scratched in their enclosure. I turned to make my way back to the house, but that Light flashed into existence in front of me. It was small, and dull. It gently deposited a familiar form onto the mown grass, and then winked out.

"Emily?"

I rushed forward, Daisy following suit. Emily lay on her stomach, her back turned to the sky. I paled as I saw the burnt flesh, blisters and bubbles. Daisy halted suddenly. I knelt by Emily, shaking her as I called for mum.

"Muuuuum! Emily just appeared! She's hurt!"

The thirteen year old didn't respond, and I thought she was probably knocked out. Mum came rushing down the stairs, and looked down at Emily's back.

"We should move her," she said nervously.

"That could hurt her, though, Mummy," said Daisy.

"It's better than leaving her out here!" I exclaimed.

Mum nodded, lifting a side.

"You get the other side, Oliver, Daisy, you make sure you grab her legs."

Together we lifted the limp teenager. As we staggered up the steps to the veranda, Emily groaned and opened her eyes.

"O..Oliver?" she whispered.

"Don't worry; you're safe, at my house. You aren't anywhere dangerous or anything," I replied to the dazed girl.

"My back…." she whimpered, and then I noticed the red dripping on the veranda's brown planks.

"Muuum….." Daisy said, noticing them too.

We got her into the house, setting her gently on the couch. It made no difference however gently we did it, for she screamed as soon as her mutilated back touched the fake leather. We turned her over, the remains of her shirt almost falling off her body. The teenager fell unconscious again, and I felt tears forming. Emily's face was blistered, and burnt, but it looked like nothing more than a serious sunburn, unlike the part of her body that was exposed. Mum wrung her hands.

"I don't know what to do!"

"Shouldn't we clean her sores, or something, Mummy?" I suggested hopefully.

She nodded agreement, rushing to the bathroom to get washers and wet them. Daisy gave me a hug.

"Where's John?" she asked.

"I don't know, he didn't appear…." I replied.

"I bet he'd know what to do," my sister said.

I agreed silently as my mother rushed back into the room, hands full of dripping towels, washers and handtowels. She cleaned the encrusted blood off Emily's back first, her face pale and clammy as she worked. Next, she set the towels on the teenager's back, to cool the irritated and burnt flesh. Last, she put a cold handtowel on the girl's face, to soothe her and calm her down when she woke.

"That's all I can do, I think."

"Can't we take her to the hospital?" Daisy asked.

"No," I replied instantly, "I think she's hurt too badly to explain to the doctors- I mean, only a fire could do this, and usually fires are on the news and stuff…..So we'd have nothing to tell them, because there was no fire. It would be suspicious," I replied, startled at my own conviction. Mum gaped at me.

"Oliver, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mum."

Daisy sniffed, glancing at the unconscious form on the couch.

"Will she be okay?"

Mum looked at the floor.

"I don't know," she admitted.

Emily awoke with a start.

"John? John! JOHN?!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

"He's not here!" I yelled over her.

"W….What?" she said weakly, exhausted by her efforts.

"He didn't appear with you. We don't know where he is," Mum replied.

"I had a dream….That..That…He was in a snowy place and that he was surrounded by wolves, growling. They looked like they were going to attack him and John's back was…." she groaned, cutting off her story. She blinked, and then continued, "His back was worse than mine. My face and body is the worst. He saved me, you know. From the Light. I would have died if he hadn't stopped it burning me," she said sadly.

I looked at the floor.

"Do you know why he would do that?" Daisy asked.

"I suppose it's an instinct for him, to protect people. I don't know why he wants to protect me so much, I mean, I'm just a kid. I'm not special," she said, between pauses for short, rapid breaths. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"We can put you on my bed, if you like," my mother suggested quietly.

"Yes…Thank you. Please?" Emily replied.

We lifted her as we did before, staggering down the hallway to my parents room, taking a right into it. We set the teenager on her back again, but this time she didn't cry out. The towels and the cleaning it had done their job. She collapsed, limp.

"So sleepy," she whispered.

She fell asleep, just as she finished her sentence.

Emily

I dreamed. I didn't want to. I wanted peace, but who was I to challenge my own consciousness?

I was in a field of crisp grass. Henryk lay on his back beside me, making daisy chains. My back wasn't burning as if it was on fire, and my face didn't burn, either. I felt confused, but I giggled strangely at the pilot as he wound the daisy stems into a chain. Huge black berries grew around the edges of the field, the grass whispering in the breeze. Henryk looked at me solemnly, his green eyes serious.

"Hello, Emily," he said.

I smiled.

"Hi."

I felt really happy. I knew I shouldn't be, that I should be in pain, the corners of my vision blackening, my legs like jelly.

"This isn't a normal dream, Emily," he said seriously.

"Why isn't it? You seem perfectly normal to me," I said, smiling again.

"You don't understand. I created this. I contacted you. You are in something I made, my dream, my reality, what I chose to make," he said.

I frowned. My happiness was fading away, and I grew aware of everything.

"My back…John….The Light…"

Henryk looked at me for a moment. The light that the sun gave off had an almost hazy effect, the Finnish pilot's features blurred, his white skin marred.

"The Light did take you then," he stated.

"It did….But it hurt us. My back-"

Henryk interrupted.

"I know. Don't worry."

I squinted.

"Are you connected, too?"

Henryk looked away.

"Only to the people I want to be connected to. You see, I can choose."

The sun grew dark, and Henryk flinched.

"Someone is breaking into my dream," he said.

Clouds rolled in overhead, thunder boomed in the distance. I shivered, shuffling closer to Henryk. He stood, pulling me up with him. Lightning flashed, thunder crashed and I thought the ground might break under my feet. Henryk shook, in fear or exertion, I couldn't tell. But the sunshine seemed to fight the clouds, pushing them back, burning away the water. He turned to me.

"Go! It's not safe anymore!"

Everything grew even hazier.

"When will you talk to me again?" I asked.

"Soon! I promise! Go now!"

Everything faded away, and I woke with a start to my burning face.

Earlier

UNSC Infinity

Amanda

Where were those two little slackers? I tapped my foot impatiently. Kelly, Fred, Linda and the strange pilot Henryk all seemed miffed.

"If they were going to come, they should have been here a while ago," the strangely accented pilot commented. Kelly scoffed a reply.

"Honestly, I'm not surprised."

"Why ever not?" asked Fred.

"Because you put those two together and they think they can do anything they like," she spat.

Henryk shook his head angrily, his spiky blonde hair trembling. Greenish-blue eyes flashed angrily.

"Emily would never do that! She may complain, but she'd still do it!"

"Hey! Hey! Break it up. We've got other possibilities to consider, ya know! Don't be blind bats in the daylight! You know, even that damn Light thingy coulda taken 'em."

"That's very likely," Linda commented.

The team turned as Sarah Palmer appeared on the pedestal with just her black undersuit on. She strode over importantly.

"Where the heck is John?" she asked.

"Gone. We think the Light may have taken him and Emily," Fred replied.

"Well, if they come back, we're screwed to high hell," she said.

"Why's that?" Henryk asked.

The Spartan Commander sighed.

"Spill the beans, Comm, we've got a Pelican ta fix!" I said impatiently.

"Okay, so the Infinity's engines are made from back engineered Forerunner tech. Lately; we were informed by John that the Light is essentially the Librarian's transport tool."

We all nodded.

"Anyway, every time the Light transports someone here, the Forerunner engines are disturbed, as the Light has such a strong Forerunner influence. Essentially, its breaking the engines apart and there's only so much engineers can do for them. The wild energy that the Light exudes causes rogue power inputs from the main engines and thrusters, effectively deviating the Infinity from its course. If John or Emily comes back, the wild deviation will most likely put us into the nearest sun, by Roland's calculations.

She rubbed her temples.

"Gosh, now I sound like an egghead," she groaned.

"So, lemme get this straight," I said, "We're going to die because of our friends?"

Henryk shifted impatiently.

"I have to go," he said.

"What?" I turned to him.

"It's important. I need to go!" he flung over his shoulder as he ran across the pedestal and down it's steps.

"Gosh! Where'd he need to go so quickly?" Sarah commented. I rolled my eyes.

"Strange guy, strange habits."

Henryk's Quarters

Henryk

I needed to contact Emily. I needed to warn her! If she comes back, we're all dead! Luckily, I'd chosen to connect with her through the flower clip. It was my mother's; and she'd had the same ability as me. The clip had been created as a connector, and an anchor for her powers, and she'd eventually used it to communicate with the owner over long distances. I didn't know how the link would work through space and time, but I would try. I carefully allowed the magic to flow into me, telling me of what Emily had been doing, what she was feeling, if she was asleep or not.

I was met by a barrage of pain, mismatched thoughts, John, the Light, the smell of burning flesh. Emily was asleep, unaware of my intrusion. I gasped as I felt the wounds on her back, her burnt face, her tortured heart. You couldn't really call this link magic- the link between John and Emily couldn't be put into any category. I always thought as magic as a different kind of science, but there was never another name for it than "magic".

I made a dream. I made a field, grass, berries, and daisies. Sunny, happy. I lay down on the bed, pulling Emily's consciousness into it as mine faded back into my body. Now I was in the dream, having full awareness as my body lay limp on the bed. Emily appeared next to me. I turned to look at her, the grass swaying in the breeze.

"Hello, Emily."

"Hi," she replied, giggling at the daisy chain I was making.

"This isn't a normal dream, Emily," I said seriously.

"Why isn't it? You seem perfectly normal to me," she replied.

"You don't understand. I created this. I contacted you. You are in something I made, my dream, my reality, what I chose to make," I said impatiently.

She frowned, and I saw the realisation dawn in her blue eyes.

"My back…John….The Light…" she whispered.

"The Light did take you then," I stated.

"It did….But it hurt us. My burns-"

I interrupted.

"I know. Don't worry."

Emily squinted, thinking.

"Are you connected, too?"

I looked away. That was close enough to the truth to make me uncomfortable.

"Only to the people I want to be connected to. You see, I can choose," I replied.

The sun grew dark, and I grew nervous. Sometimes my dreams weren't entirely secure; dangerous sub conscious beings could invade, except when they killed you, they really killed you. You died, and to anyone who was in the physical world, it seemed like you'd died in your sleep.

"Someone is breaking into my dream," I said, looking upwards.

Clouds rolled in overhead, thunder boomed in the distance. Emily trembled, shuffling closer to me. I stood, pulling the teenager up with me, the wind howled, tossing Emily's hair about. Lightning flashed, thunder crashed. I willed the sun to return, focusing my thoughts and energy. The light beat back the dark, slowly. I turned quickly to Emily.

"Go! It's not safe anymore!"

Everything grew even hazy as the battle between light and dark continued.

"When will you talk to me again?" she asked, confused.

"Soon! I promise! Go now!"

She faded away, back into her body. She'd be waking up, now. I destroyed my dream world, waking up in my bed with a cold sheen of sweat on my forehead.

John

The wolves howled into the night, their breath forming clouds in the freezing air. Pups tumbled about me as I sat on a log, squeaking and barking. They were the Alpha's pups. The snowy wolf had run back to camp, alerting the other members. Together, they'd pulled me into their snow cave. My long sleeve shirt had since degraded, becoming mere strips of rags held together by the finest of threads. My pants weren't that worse for wear, luckily. If either of my clothes fell off, or finally broke, I'd freeze to death. I was already cold. I shook the snow forming in my hair loose, as the cubs tripped over one of my booted feet. An Omega slinked about, searching for any sort of scrap left by any of the higher ranked wolves. Since I'd left the wolves to their new home, a new Beta had risen in this pack, the snowy she-wolf who'd found me. In order to strengthen their packs, all the wolves had shared individuals with each other, the snowy wolf being one of them.

I began to wonder if the wolves had names. I looked up as the Alpha padded over to me.

"I hope my pups haven't been a trouble to you?" he asked, amused as a pup scrambled on top of my cold log, barking at me in a high pitched voice. I turned and gave it an icy glare, as cold as the lake I'd fallen in. The pup squealed, slid off the log, and ran off. The Alpha laughed, barking happily.

"We'll need to find you some clothes," the Alpha pondered, "But as far as the wolf packs know, there is no civilization in which to steal you any, or get any made."

I thought for a moment.

"What about animals?"

"What about them?" the Alpha asked.

"Deer, elk, moose. Do you hunt them?" I asked.

"Yes? Why?"

"I could make clothes using their skins," I said.

The wolf frowned- well, I thought he did. An equivalent of a wolf frown was a slight curling of the muzzle and a strange cocking of the tail.

"That would be too hard- the skin needs to be cured, softened. You'll need buckets for that, and you know we don't have those. Plus, you'll need to get the skin off first."

I drew my knife, hidden in my pocket, as a reply.

The Alpha female trotted up, a lovely cross between silver and white.

"I heard your conversation. It would be a good idea, except for those setbacks."

"I could beat the skin to make it softer," I suggested.

The Alpha nodded thoughtfully.

"That could work. With your enhancements, you could do it hard, all day. You'd soften it in no time, plus we can help, chewing the hide also works. First, we'll need to find deer. We brought one down only a little while ago, but there's nothing left, and the pack is not hungry again, yet. But my mate will need lots of food to give enough milk to sustain the pups, so we'll have to hunt soon."

I winced as a flare of pain emanated from my back. I couldn't help exposing the delicate skin to the biting air; I had nothing to cover the large patch that the Light had burnt away. The Alpha blinked sympathetically.

"One of the packs has a healer- she knows the only herbs that can grow in this area, and what they can do for you. We could take you to her- the packs know of you, and Emily. There would be no hostility," he informed me.

"How far?"

"Quite far. It usually takes us around three days to make the journey, if you were a normal human, it would take you around a week, but you can run faster than us, and run for longer, so we'll be the ones taking the breaks, not you," the Alpha female finished for her mate.

I decided to ask for names. I needed to call the wolves something else besides "Alpha" "Omega" "Beta" and "pups"

"Do wolves have names?" I asked tentatively.

The Alpha positively glowed.

"Yes, of course. We do not usually give them to strangers; we tend to wait until we know the strangers will not use our names against us. Even then, we wait for the friend to ask for names, as you have just done," he gestured to his mate with his silvery, flag of a tail, "My mate is Shazkran," he said, purring the words with a deep accent, "I am Ezikal, and our three pups are Rezier, Emiry, and Kazaran," he said, pronouncing each word slowly so I knew how to say each strange name.

Shazkran continued, "The white wolf who rescued you is Stranakia, a female, and our three Omegas are Nisus, Cloua and Kipachu," she said, flicking her tail to each of the wolves as they cleaned and maintained the camp, and exercised their legs for the hunts. I committed every name to memory, and I knew I would never forget them. I retained any information, a part of my training. A pup ran toward me, white with spots of grey, and I questioned Ezikal with a glance.

"That is Rezier, a male," he said, "Children! Come here!" he called, and two other pups flung themselves towards him, licking his muzzle and tumbling between his legs. He pointed one out with his tail, a silvery grey pup with a mask of black on its right eye, "This is Kazaran, a female," he pointed to another pup, a brownish grey, "This is Emiry, another female. You may have already guessed, but we named her after Emily," he said with a happy growl.

Of course, I had already suspected as much. Not a lot ever slipped under my radar. A cold breeze stirred the rags of my shirt, and I gave Shazkran a meaningful glance. The three pups barked at their father, who growled playfully at them.

"Stranakia will take you to the healer. The less wolves in the party, the less it seems like a threat. You will pass through one other pack leaders territory, Risishan's, and he is still prickly after the incident with the didact. Stranakia!" he called. The white she-wolf padded over.

"Yes, Alpha?"

"You need not call me that. John knows our names. You know of the wounds on his back, and you know the healer. You must take him- the wounds could become infected. We cannot all come, for I must run the pack and take care of my mate. Will you take the Spartan to the healer?"

Stranakia nodded.

"It would be a pleasure, Ezikal."

"First, John and you must sleep. It will be a tiring journey."

In The Morning

John

Stranakia insisted on a steady pace.

"You may be able to get there quicker, but you need my guidance."

I breathed out a large cloud into the dawn air. The sky glowed pink as the sun slowly crawled its way up the sky. The air didn't warm, and I didn't expect it to. The cold numbed my burnt back, and that was good for such a long trek. Rigorous movement yesterday had opened some scabs and popped a few blisters.

"When will we cross the other territory?" I asked.

"Soon, maybe about two deer's leaps."

I guessed that was two hours, and Stranakia knew I'd guessed right, for she didn't explain.

"What is the healer's name?" I asked another question. I couldn't help myself; I was curious, a rare occurrence.

"Since you are a friend of the wolf packs, I'll tell you. Her name is Rosamina, and I'd expect you to use it when you approach her. Being a wolf pack friend and not using the name for a formal wolf like her is great disrespect. It signals ignorance, and rudeness," she said, turning her head to look at me with her orangey eyes.

I continued our fast jog.

"You seem to have a very organised order and a lot of customs," I commented.

"In time, you'll learn them, but for now you'll only be taught the basics of wolf society. Enough so that you don't get your arms ripped off for disrespect," she joked.

I gave her a sincere look.

"I'd like to see them try," I said flatly.

Stranakia snorted with amusement.

"I don't think even you could stand against the twenty or so wolves in the pack we're travelling to," she said with a curl of her muzzle, "The other two packs are much bigger than mine. Ezikal knows it."

I didn't reply.

Stranakia eventually slowed to a loping walk.

"I must rest. Don't even think about going on without me, or Risishan will have your hide!"

I rolled my eyes.

"Don't think there's enough undamaged skin on me to make a hide out of," I said dryly, my back sparking again with annoying pain.

"Your flimsy clothes could supplement, I suppose," she replied with an amused twitch of her snowy white ear.

"I'm afraid even they'll be falling off, soon."

"I'm very surprised you haven't dropped dead from hypothermia, yet. Any normal human would have had his toes dropped off by now, yet you're managing it with half the clothes," she said.

"I'm not a normal human, Stranakia."

"That much, I can tell," she panted into the air, the sky rapidly lightening as the sun continued its slow winter trek. The white she wolf stood as she rested.

"How long until we cross the territory?" I asked.

"Honestly, you're no better than those pups! Questions, questions, always questions. We'll cross the territory in half a deer leap, and if you ask again, I'll be forced to chastise you like a pup. After that, it's about another two days at our quickest pace."

"You mean, your quickest pace," I stated.

Stranakia growled at me lowly.

"Be quiet, you."

"How long will you be resting for?" I asked.

"I swear to Lupus…" she growled playfully.

She leapt at my legs, barrelling into me with the force of a Covenant alien. I tumbled to the side, as Stranakia dripped slobber all over my face.

"I hope your spit washes out!" I grimaced as the wolf grabbed onto my leg gently and tugged.

"If hunting these deer works out, it won't matter! You'll be wearing our prey!" she growled through a mouthful of nylon pants. I tugged back, sitting up and cuffing her around the ear.

"I sure hope none of your pack think I'm a deer and try to hunt me!" I snapped.

"Oh no. You're too fat to be a deer," she yapped slyly.

That's it!

I sat up, and launched myself back at the wolf, tumbling her over. Her stinky breath was panted over me, reminding me of Emily. Stranakia squirmed violently, and then she was free, dancing around me and yelping with victory and the spoils of her win. I rested, face first in the power snow. Thankfully, my face didn't sink in and the snow didn't suffocate me. I was lucky my back hadn't given me any pain; it was too numb from the freezing air to send any messages to my brain.

"Now we'll have to rest twice as long," I mumbled into the snow.

"Only because you aggravated me," Stranakia said.

I didn't reply, sitting up in the snow and giving her a reserved glance. Stranakia cocked her head to the side for a moment.

"What happened to your back, anyway?"

"The Light, when it came, it was bright, and hot. Too hot. I had to protect Emily; otherwise the heat would have killed her. I pushed her to the ground, and crouched over her. It was the only way."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know. She didn't come out with me."

Stranakia shook herself.

"Let's go. We need to get you to the healer. I don't think you can amputate an infected back, plus none of us have any hands."

"That might be somewhat of a draw back to being a wolf."

The white she wolf scoffed.

"Please! Wolves can run far faster than any normal human, and their jaws can bite with over one hundred times the force. I think that makes up for not having hands."

I didn't reply, instead continuing the fast, yet steady jog.

Oliver's House

Emily

I slumped uselessly on the couch, spooning in mouthfuls of Rose's delicious chicken stew. My body still burnt like fire where the heat from the Light had come into contact with my pale and delicate skin. It weakened me, and blood still occasionally wept from the sores and blisters. I'd woken up at around six pm, after Henryk had contacted me, crying with the pain and my belly screaming out in hunger. And here I was, stuffing the most delicious stew ever into my mouth. I finished, with a burp. Even that small sudden movement ignited pain that flashed all over my burnt skin; I bit my lip, a small tear sliding pitifully down my face. The remains of my shirt barely covered me, and I was slightly afraid of modesty. I wished desperately for John, for Henryk, for Fred, anyone. Oliver and Daisy were okay- but they were both too young to properly understand. Rose, and her husband Samuel; well, they were older, but too inexperienced to understand, either. John could give me the strength I needed, Henryk could make me feel better, and Fred could give me silent company, not offering any sympathies- so I felt strong. I collapsed in a fit of tears on the couch, wishing, hoping, and waiting.

But no one was coming. Rose was too busy googling burn treatments, when what I really needed was a doctor, but even Oliver knew better than I did, taking me to the doctor was out of the option. I reckoned John's burns would have already half healed by now; he didn't have any augmentations for faster healing like the Spartan Fours, but the guy was strong, and fit. Unlike me, I was just a normal girl, weak, and insignificant. The sun rose, framing the furniture in a golden light, and warming my burnt face.

Emily?

I started at the sound of John's voice in my head.

How stupid was I! Stupid stupid stupid! I hadn't thought to contact John through the link! He'd obviously forgotten, also! We were both so new to it; we'd gotten out of practise using it when I'd arrived at the Infinity.

John! Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU?I replied frantically.

In the wolves world. Where are you?

Oliver's house, my world. Are you okay? How are the wolves? Are they alright?

My back is burnt. A she wolf is taking me to another pack's healer. The wolves are fine. You are in pain, I can tell.

I felt a little dizzy with the pain that the Spartan had detected, and relief.

My face….My face is burnt, bad, and so is my body. My back is, a little, but it's okay. I didn't think to use the link, either! How stupid am I! I said, shamefully.

We were both too absorbed in our problems to think about that. Don't beat yourself up about it, he replied instantly, and I noticed the small note of pain in his mental voice. He was in pain, and I suspected his injuries were worse than he would let on.

You're hurt more than you're telling me, aren't you?

I was okay, until I tripped on a snow covered rock. It tore…It tore open all the sores, and the scabs. It ripped off my new skin, too.

I cringed as I imaged it.

I hope that healer will do a good job, I said.

She'd better or I could die, he replied.

I suddenly felt a compelling desire to sleep. I fought valiantly, hearing John's questions, growing slightly worried as I didn't reply. I relaxed, letting the tide of weariness wash over me. I didn't know what had made me so tired, usually the pain stopped me from falling asleep unless I was completely exhausted.

Near Rhanaluka Territory Boundary

John

I felt Emily's thoughts disappear, and I noticed the subtle quietening of her mind as she fell asleep. I was quite concerned- If the child didn't have the strength and stamina to keep herself awake and talk to me, what hope did she have of staying alive? I tried to forget about it. I couldn't do anything, and chewing my lip off with worry wouldn't help. Stranakia trotted nonstop, I knew she was tired but she knew the longer it took to get to the healer, the better the chance of my freshly torn back getting worse. She pushed herself for my sake, and I was thankful for it.

"We are arriving at Risishan's pack territory now. This boundary has often been argued over, but it finally settled a few months ago," she explained, "So keep an eye out for hunters, or border guards. Ezikal didn't have time to howl to Risishan to warn him of our crossing, since it's such a complicated message and he didn't want to disturb our rest. Things could get hostile, although the packs are bound to a treaty at the current time. No pack shall fight another pack."

"I think I can hear wolves," I said.

I heard the faint crunching of their paws on the snow, their excited breathing and their pounding hearts. Many underestimated my hearing, and many had paid for their ignorance.

"I can smell them," Stranakia said, "Come out! We are only crossing your territory briefly!" she growled. The wolves emerged, finally- there were four of them. Three were the usual silvery grey, but the last was a deep russet. Their tails were positioned vertically, and I suspected it was a show of dominance. Stranakia crouched, and she snapped at me quietly.

"Bow, too. If you are in another pack's territory, you must bow to the owners if you don't have formal permission," she snarled.

I ignored the protest from my injuries and sank to my knees, pressing my forehead into the icy ground. I didn't like this. I didn't like submitting to anyone. I was trained to never give up, and right now, that training wanted to take control and force me to rise, to fight. I shoved it down. The midday sun shone on my now bleeding back, lighting up the snow to a blinding glare.

"Rise, Rhanaluka wolf, Stranakia. Human, you may rise," one of the wolves said grandly. I didn't know which one, for my head was pressed into the snowy earth. I stood, shakily.

"My guess is that you're headed to the healer, John," said the russet wolf as I realised he was the one who'd spoken. He looked at me with grey eyes.

"Yes," I replied. Stranakia whispered a name so quietly that only I could hear,

"Ranaseka."

"Yes, Ranaseka," I continued quickly.

"Then with the grace of Risishan himself, I bless you for a good journey and may your wounds heal. You may continue."

"Thank you, honourable guard patrol," Stranakia finished, padding away quickly. I followed her, ignoring the blood dripping down me.

"You're getting worse," she stated.

"Bowing didn't help."

"That was what was required. You would have caused much shame to my pack if you hadn't."

"Ranaseka, Who is he?" I asked.

"He's the lead border guard wolf of the Planaka pack- very important, that was why I gave you his name."

"He didn't ask why I was injured," I stated.

"That's not his place. We were passing through his territory without express permission, so news and gossip are not proper, and so are questions," she explained, picking up the pace to a fast run this time.

"Don't you feel the pain your back should be giving you?" the white she wolf asked.

"Sometimes. I can ignore it."

"You're amazing."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should, because it was," she replied flatly.

I matched her pace, but didn't reply.

"We'll only push on until it gets dark. We should arrive in Uranila territory by midday the next day at that pace," she planned.

Around Six PM That Night.

John

"So what territory are we in right now?" I asked.

"Shared territory; boundaries between Rhanaluka, Planaka and Uranila merge here, so any wolf is free to pass. Or human, for that matter," Stranakia said, shifting in the makeshift snow cave the wolf and myself had dug out. It was a lot warmer in here, as I'd blocked the entrance with packed snow bricks.

"Tell me more about the packs and their leaders," I asked.

"The Alpha of Rhanaluka is Ezikal, obviously. I'm the leader of the border guard, and the three Omegas are my side-guards. Shazkran is Ezikal's mate, she's second in command. The three pups are potential heirs to Ezikal's dominance, if he dies; the oldest pup becomes the Alpha, guided by Shazkran if she still breathes. We have nine in our pack. The leader of Planaka is Risishan, and the border guard leader is Ranaseka, as you already know. Those other three wolves were out of the six he has as his side-guards. Risishan doesn't have any pups; his whole pack is fifteen strong," she said, "You needn't know all their names. Now, Uranila. The leader of Uranila is a she-wolf named Frazwera, a rare occurrence. She-wolves aren't usually leaders of packs. She has by far the strongest pack, at twenty one. Her border guard leader is Janasirak, and he has seven out of the twenty one as his side-guards," she said.

"I didn't know you were a border guard leader," I commented.

"It wasn't important," she said dismissively, her orangey eyes glinting in the darkness. I could still see her perfectly, thanks to the enhancement of my eyes.

"We need to rest. We'll have to travel nonstop tomorrow if we're going to make it to Frazwera's territory," she announced, flopping on her side. There wasn't enough room for me to be comfortable so I just crunched up into a ball and closed my eyes.

Oliver's House

Emily

I blinked awake.

I jumped in surprise as I noticed Henryk stood in front of me. I was in the same green field as before, the haziness still present. I felt anger as I realised he must have sent me to sleep somehow, and I let the fire break free.

"Henryk, please explain to me why you can do this dream stuff? Are you a freak or something?! I was having quite a nice chat with John, thank you very much!" I snapped.

Henryk's greenish blue eyes flashed angrily in response as I awakened his own fire.

"Freak?! Easy for you to say! You talk to people with your mind! And how should I know you were talking to the biggest freak of them all, you know who I'm talking about! I don't know everything that's going on inside that puny mind of yours!"

I marched closer to the pilot, glaring up at him.

"How dare you! John is not a freak! Don't blame him for what Halsey did to him, he was six years old! Puny mind? PUNY?" I spluttered. I grabbed the front of his grey shirt and shook him. The pilot viciously grabbed my hands and held them. I tried to yank them free but they were held tight.

"I didn't use all my strength to bring you here to argue with me!" he snapped.

I looked shamefully at my feet.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I've just been through a lot. I mean, every moment of the day I hurt in more ways than I can explain, and I'm lonely. It feels horrible. No-one can do anything for me."

"But you have your friends," he said.

"They don't understand!" I exclaimed.

"I understand," he said with sad eyes. I hugged the pilot, and strangely his warmth radiated out somehow.

"Henryk, why'd you even contact me? And how exactly are you doing this?"

"Emily, the Infinity is falling apart. Well, her engines are for the most part," he said.

"What? Why?"

"Look, you know more about the Infinity than I do. You're a Halo expert. What technology do the Infinity's engines use?"

"Well….Forerunner."

"Exactly. Everyone knows now that the Light is the Librarian's doing, and think, just think. What kind of power would it take to transport a living being through space and time?" Henryk prodded.

"A lot of power. Forerunner power, since the Light is a weird Forerunner thing," I suggested. The blonde haired pilot nodded, sitting on the grass and pulling me down with him.

"Whoa," I said as I nearly tumbled down the grassy slope.

"Every time that light transports someone here, it disturbs systems of the Infinity. I'm talking about flight deviations, navigation failures, that sort of thing. If John- or you- comes back, the next disturbance will send the Infinity on a course with the nearest sun, as she's stationary with the repairs we're doing. It'll kill us all."

I blanched.

"What?"

"In short- either you or John will kill us," he shortened. I twisted the grass under my hands.

"No….No that can't be…." I stammered. Henryk slung his arm around me.

"You can't control when the Light decides to take you, or where it decides to take you. It won't be your entire fault."

I threw his arm off and stood, stomping away across the field. I turned and yelled at him.

"ENTIRE FAULT? I'LL KILL SEVENTEEN THOUSAND PEOPLE! DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE ITS OKAY!" Tears burst in streams and I turned and fled into the forest.

I would kill them. Eventually the Light would take me back, and I would kill them. Seventeen thousand people. Fred, Amanda, Kelly, Linda, Sarah, and Lasky. Henryk too. I'd end their lives. I stumbled over tree roots, as the sky overhead began to darken; the fake sun began to set. Henryk obviously hadn't closed his dumb dream world yet- he was probably still looking for me. Well, he wouldn't find me. My tears dried, and sorrow was replaced by anger. I ran faster, faster, faster, until I was sure even John wouldn't be able to catch me, and I burst out of the forest, nearly running straight over a small waterfall. I skidded to a halt as the spray from the waterfall soaked my clothes. I peered over the edge, through the spray of water. The waterfall's pond was dominated with huge, sharp rocks, and was about ten meters high.

Did it really matter if I killed myself? It was only a dream! Maybe I might even be freed from Henryk's freak world if I died.

I sprinted over the waterfall, closing my eyes and waiting for my body to hit the rocks at the bottom.

I hit them; I felt the impact, for sure.

But I didn't feel any pain as I opened my eyes. My legs and arms lay sprawled all over the rocks, but I wasn't injured at all.

I couldn't die. I couldn't get hurt, couldn't feel pain, and couldn't escape from my prison.

I screamed out with anger and misery, pulling myself off the rocks and collapsing into the water. I tried to let myself drown, but it seemed that air didn't matter. My lungs didn't cramp, and I didn't fall unconscious. I swam doggedly to the surface, and dragged myself out onto the muddy bank around the edge of the waterfall's pond. The forest loomed above me, and I closed my eyes. There was nothing and then there were whispers, lots of them.

We're coming.

I'm coming.

You're safe…..

We're always hunting you.

Look in the shadows, and you will see yourself.

Ssssh…..

Fate is not to be trifled with.

Do so, and your fate is in jeopardy.

I shook my head, slapping my ears. Nothing helped. The trees around me were shadowed in the rapidly failing light, and I thought I saw them move. Grow teeth, claws, jaws. I blinked. I took in a deep breath, although I couldn't die from not breathing.

The trees shrunk, into bears. They growled, black fur bristling. Beady eyes glared at me. I scrambled backwards, screaming. My stomach almost rose into my throat. I turned and fled, but I didn't hear the bears after me. I ran anyway. Then I saw John in the trees. I changed direction, running towards him. But I soon halted as I saw his face. His eyes were pits of black, his mouth a yawning gap - like the Scream's. I shrieked- turning and running away. Multiple Johns appeared and tried to grab me, their mouths gaping wider. My heart fluttered wildly as I ran endlessly through the forest, the sunset turned to night, and I soon couldn't see the tree roots I was tripping over. My stomach cramped at the thought of those eyeless Johns following me silently, and I forced myself up. Instantly, I fell over again. I was too weak to continue any further. I screamed for John with my mind, but I didn't sense the tell-tale feeling that meant my thought had been received. I shrieked and cried, falling into the blackness of sleep.

Maybe I might wake up at Oliver's house?

I slipped away into the abyss.

Uranila Territory

John

"Halt!" Janasirak snarled.

Seven wolves surrounded me and Stranakia.

I bowed as Stranakia did.

"Honourable Janasirak, we seek the aid of your healer," the Rhanaluka wolf said quietly.

"What?" the pure white Uranila wolf snapped, "You don't look hurt!"

I turned my mutilated back towards the lead border guard and his side-guards.

"Ah. John is hurt, not you. Rise," Janasirak commanded. I stood slowly. I met the wolf's eyes, which were nearly the same colour as my own.

"Frazwera is busy. We don't need interruptions," he said, not unkindly.

Stranakia curled her muzzle in the beginnings of a snarl.

"Uranila promised any injured wolf could seek help from the only healer!" she snapped.

"John is not a wolf," he said with such perfect conviction that it sounded like he didn't care.

"With all due respect sir, the wolf packs owe Emily and myself," I stated, "Are you so quick to forget we saved you all?"

Janasirak didn't like that, obviously.

"Such things are forgotten, with wolves. Uranila owes no-one!" he snarled.

Stranakia bowed again.

"I apologize, Janasirak. We shall leave now."

I didn't bow, and I didn't turn to leave. The Uranila border guard leader snarled, his blue eyes flashing.

I returned his growl, with a lower, more threatening tone. I met the wolf's eyes. I knew that direct eyes contact signals a challenge. His side-guards flinched slightly.

"LEAVE!" he snarled.

"No."

Stranakia retreated into a bush, and fled.

Coward.

Janasirak advanced, with his other guards spreading out to surround me.

"I don't want to hurt you, human, but you give me no choice!"

I drew my knife, and the wolves snarled in unison.

I was going to fight.

They snarled, and a bead of sweat broke out on my forehead, even in despite of the cold.

A wolf leapt- a beige colour. Yellow eyes flashed as I whirled around, and the wolf couldn't move out of the way fast enough as I drove the combat knife into its flank. It whimpered and fell to the ground. It didn't move as I withdrew the blade from its fur. Then I heard the scampering of paws, and everything moved in slow motion as the other six wolves leapt at me. I whirled around. Janasirak moved slowly. I'd leave him until last. I'd give him a chance to surrender. I picked a brown wolf, leapt forward, stabbed. A grey wolf leapt on me from behind and I rolled to the ground, crushing the howling wolf with over one hundred and thirty kilos of augmented muscle and bone. Four more to go. I dodged the leader as he leapt at me with a snarl. A silvery grey wolf, reminding me distractingly of Ezikal leapt at me. I felt a bit strange as I grabbed the wolf, and broke its neck. They were beautiful creatures I was killing, be they deadly and intelligent.

Then I felt jaws closing on my neck, hot doggy breath dripping slobber all over me. I fell to the ground, trying to roll over the wolf, but the animal leapt clear. It was obviously smarter than that. Blood ran down my back as the bite marks on my neck oozed blood. My back hadn't started bleeding again, luckily. I leapt to my feet, slashing the wolf across the throat with the knife as it jumped at me and snarled.

The last side-guard.

But where was Janasirak?

I was knocked down as the white wolf barrelled into my legs. Jaws closed around my arm, and snapped shut. I felt the teeth puncture the skin and muscle, releasing blood.

Janasirak obviously didn't know much about me, for I realised he expected the bone to snap and splinter under the force exerted by his jaw. His teeth went no further as my coated bones stopped his canines from penetrating. I flung the wolf away, his jaws releasing as I threw him away easily. The white wolf struggled to his feet, even as I staggered to my own. Fighting these wolves was almost harder than doing so with the Covenant. Janasirak growled, mean, low. Some age old animal instinct told me to run, but my mind was ruled too solely by conditioning and training. I simply couldn't retreat. I growled back, matching the tone. The white wolf bared his teeth and snarled, leaping at me faster than any alien. I slipped out of the way as the wolf latched onto my leg. Again, my bones halted any further penetration. Blood splattered the snow around the wolves I'd slaughtered, and fresh blood dripped from my arm. I reached down, grabbed the wolf and prised his jaws apart, flinging him into a tree.

I'd give him one more chance to surrender.

Janasirak dragged himself up, blood dripping from one of his ears and from a wound on his flank. The wolf was nearly completely red with the liquid now.

"Stop this now!" a female wolf howled. A bluish grey wolf ran down from a snowy ridge, standing between me and Janasirak, "What are you doing? You are not to attack John or any human!"

"Frazwera! He wouldn't leave!" Janasirak snarled.

"You stupid wolf! Ezikal just howled to me and told me of their arrival! John needs the healer, not a fight with you and your stupid side-guards!"

"Why didn't he howl earlier?!" Janasirak whined.

"Because Ezikal is not fool enough to bother me with my business! You disgust me!" Uranila is weaker now, no thanks to you and your idiotic actions!" she snarled, snapping at the white wolf. I relaxed, slumping against a tree. Stranakia emerged from a bush, and I realised she hadn't run away after all. Frazwera bit the back of Janasirak's neck and snarled, sending the white wolf limping away over the ridge, whimpering.

My arm continued to bleed and I collapsed as the leg Janasirak had bitten gave way. Stranakia howled and licked my face. I pushed her away roughly, and tried to stand. I collapsed, again straight away. Frazwera padded over.

"You need to come to the pack. I'm afraid our healer is too frail to make it more than five meters out here."

Stranakia snarled, "Do you think he can even make it three meters?"

I struggled to my feet, bracing myself with my uninjured arm against the tree. I staggered a step. Pain lanced through my back, my leg and my neck ached as blood continued to flow out.

I made it five meters with the support of Frazwera and Stranakia. I reached the ridge, collapsing on the slope. The snow numbed the pain and I continued. I wasn't spent, not for a mile. I could have fought a hundred wolves and not gotten tired, but as always injuries halted a Spartan. Sometimes, for good. I staggered over the ridge. But I went over too fast. I tumbled down, like a giant, limp snowball. The white stuff went up my nose, in my mouth. I finally stopped, and dragged myself upright. Thirteen wolves of different colours stared at me with wide eyes. I didn't move. I didn't think I could, anyway. Frazwera stood next to me, dragging me by the collar towards what looked like nests. The pack's home was a three meter deep depression in a snowy field, the so called "nests" created by leaves and sticks woven into tunnels and deep bowls. There were snow caves too- probably for the lesser wolves. Stranakia dragged my other side. Frazwera guided me over to a tunnel nest- bigger than the rest; the entrance at least a meter high. I crawled inside. Instantly, there was no freezing wind, no cold air. It was warm, the floor coated with fur and feathers. I lay there, not moving. Frazwera growled,

"The healer needs to be fetched. She is eating. You'll need to wait."

I still dripped blood on the floor.

The main body of the tunnel widened out into a dome shaped roof much like an igloo's and about the same size. I closed my eyes, and soon I fell into a sleep that I didn't see coming.

Dream World

Emily

I woke up as the sun hit my face. My throat ached from screaming all last night, but I didn't feel hungry, or thirsty. I dragged myself upright and yawned. Sunlight framed the trees as dawn broke, and I saw mountains in the distance.

Henryk must be very powerful to create such a large world. If he could do that, he shouldn't have too much trouble finding me. I yelled out for John with my mind, but I didn't receive an answer. If the Spartan could help it he'd always answer. I stood, my runners crunching leaves loudly. They were ripped and torn, and so were my jeans and T-shirt.

If it was a dream world, maybe I could think up new things? From some fantasy novels I've read, I decided I'd give it a go. It didn't matter if it didn't work. My feet wouldn't blister, anyway. I'd just be naked.

I imagined my favourite shirt, white, with a black owl on it. Cotton. Soft. I thought, hard, hard, harder-

Then I felt the material in my hands. I opened my eyes, hardly believing it. I quickly took off my old shirt and slipped my imagined one on. I kept my jeans, because they were the least damaged. Shoes, next. I thought hard, and I had an identical pair, except they weren't ripped and torn. I put those on, and whooped. Take that Henryk! I continued my endless trek through the forest and towards the mountains. I didn't know what I was doing anymore. I couldn't escape the dream world, couldn't die. I couldn't go back to Henryk, either.

I hated how he said it was okay that I'd kill everyone on the Infinity. It wasn't okay! I stepped over a tree root and came face to face with John. This time, his eyes weren't pits and his mouth wasn't a gaping hole. Except he was still very, very wrong. His eyes were blank- too blank. The only way I could think of them was like they were space. Empty, a void. He stood in a neutral position, towering over me. He didn't move as I ignored him and walked around the guy. Except he was there, again- in front of me as soon as I passed him. Blocking my way. I stumbled into his chest and fell onto my bottom. I clenched my hands into fists and punched the figure. It did nothing. Even punching the real John would have caused a reaction. This did nothing, there was no change in posture, expression and his clothes didn't even depress like the real John's would have. But it felt like I'd punched an electric fence. I yelped, leapt backwards and rubbed my fist. The fake-John still stood there. I ran past him, but there he was again, in front of me. I dodged, and again he appeared, still, expressionless. I ran, dodging, passing until I broke free from the forest.

I stood on the bank of a huge lake, the water flat like glass. Steep cliffs bordered the whole body of water, unclimbable. The only way in or out was the terrifying forest I'd just went through.

And I was most definitely not going through that forest again.

What could I use to get out?

I could image a rope to throw up onto the cliffs, but I didn't have a belayer or anyone to tie the rope securely and I didn't know how to make lasso.

A submarine wouldn't get me anywhere. Then it hit me.

What about a seaplane? I could sort of fly a plane. I thought of a Cessna floatplane from flight sim, but the memory was too hazy to use. I ran through a list of planes, until I stumbled upon the Consolidated PBY-5 Catalina. Big, slow, and probably easier to fly than a smaller aircraft. I ran over to the edge of the lake and imagined the big warplane's hull, like a boat's. Then the small glass cockpit, the gunner turrets on either side of the classic tail, and the big wingspan. The two small engines placed on the middle, and the folded up landing gear. Then I opened my eyes.

And it was there, the engines off, everything just as I'd imagined it. It bobbed in the water peacefully. The mid-day sun glinted off the gunner turret's glass and the cockpit shone. I'd have to swim to it, however. It was about ten meters offshore. I took off my runners and waded in. I reached the right side of the fuselage and felt along it for the step ladder, which I'd imagined extended. I kicked it, and it was underneath the water. I felt along the side of the cockpit for the door, which I found and opened. It opened downwards, and I stepped on it and then inside, settling on the furthest seat away from me; the pilot in command's seat, on the far left.

I gaped as I saw the amount of levers, buttons and instruments- I recognised the familiar altimeter, airspeed indicator and rotations per minute, which there were two of, for each engine. There was also manifold pressure, although I had no real inkling of what that meant. The red lever above my head was obviously the mixture lever, to control the amount of fuel and air mixed. It was closed, which meant there was no fuel allowed in. I opened it. The throttles were probably the two levers next to the mixture lever, I stuck both open slightly. I didn't know how to start the thing, though. There was a big red button so I pushed it.

I jumped as the two engines roared into life, the plane charging forward. I frantically pulled my seat all the way to the rudder pedals and pushed on them, guiding the big warplane out onto the lake. The control yolk was essentially a car steering wheel. I pushed the throttles forward and the engines roared louder, the water rushing past. I used the plane's rudder, as the Catalina didn't have a water rudder like a boat's, only the vertical control surface on the tail.

I decided I'd pull up at one hundred knots.

Fifty five.

Seventy.

Eighty.

Ninety.

One hundred.

I pulled back gently on the steering wheel, keeping the plane from lurching sideways with little rudder inputs. I put the nose on the horizon and let it climb, speed increasing to about one hundred and twenty knots. The plane felt big and heavy, cumbersome compared to the small training aircraft I flew. I was really nervous- essentially it was my first solo flight, I observed wryly. I levelled off at three thousand feet, which took about ten minutes. The remains of the water slid past the windscreen and flew off somewhere. I lowered the throttle a little and levelled out, finding the trim wheel and turning it. The small tab on the elevator would be popping out, I knew, and helping to hold the big floatplane's attitude. I found a rudder trim, too- but I decided I'd leave that. I checked the oil temperatures, just to make sure that the Catalina wasn't overheating at all. It wasn't, so I was content to leave the warplane be. I closed my eyes, the big plane bouncing gently over a puff of turbulence. I looked behind me and saw some sort of passage way leading to the gunner turrets- I decided they were worth a look. I double checked the Catalina, increasing the pitch upwards trim so the plane would climb slightly. I also increased the throttle, so it wouldn't stall. I walked down the length of the plane and reached the two glass pods on either side of the tail. Wind rushed past and into the slots for the guns. I smiled as it ruffled my pony tail. The twin engines roared overhead. Clouds drifted serenely, and the Catalina's wing skimmed one gently.

Then I started in surprise as I saw the other two planes. I saw the white colours, the red spots on the wings and the black engines as they emerged, screaming from cloud cover with deadly intent.

Zeroes.

What kind of sick joke was Henryk playing? They were the feared Japanese fighters from the Pacific War. I didn't create them, and he was the only other one in this freakish dream world. I didn't know how to work the guns, didn't know if they were loaded, if I'd imagined them working. Instead, I thought hard of two gunners, American. I didn't specify hair colours, eye colours, or anything only an age and a size.

Twenty five, medium sized, fit. And there they were, firing bravely at the Zeroes; red browning bullets arcing towards the mean-looking fighters. I ran back to the cockpit, and unwheeled the trim. Full throttle, full mixture. I rolled the Catalina viciously to the side, weaving and dodging. I wouldn't let Henryk's planes get a clear shot on my two brave gunners. Orange Zero tracers flew over the cockpit and the airframe shook as the warplane absorbed the bullets.

"Reloading!" A gunner called.

I redoubled my efforts to avoid the Zeroes, rolling, ruddering, twisting. The warplane was slow to respond, as heavy and large as it was, but it followed my commands as well as it could. A bullet broke through the cockpit, whizzing just past my head and skimming the instruments. It ricocheted and bounced off the thick metal floor, landing near my foot. I screamed with anger, my cries drowned out by the Catalina's roaring engines.

"Reloaded!" the gunner cried again. Tears sprang forward, and I turned my head to look down the length of the plane to the gunner pods, just in time as a gunner claimed one Zero out of the two.

"Bogey down!" he crowed. The fireball disintegrated. Both gunners now focused their fire on the last Zero, but the pilot was obviously smarter. He guided his nimble fighter exactly down the middle of the tail, a blind spot; as each gunner was on either side. The guns couldn't rotate to shoot on that arc. I realised, and kicked the rudder pedals, yawing the whole plane viciously, the nose slewing right, and the tail kicking out to the left. The gunner of the right turret crowed happily and fired on the surprised Zero. Orange tracers arced forward, before he could aim, piercing the gunner's chest. Blood sprayed on the gun pod's glass and I nearly hurled on the floor. I yelled angrily.

"Gunner down!" the other gunner yelled. I rolled and weaved the Catalina again, allowing the left gunner a shot. I heard the guns over the roar of the engines, and I decided to try a risky tactic. I closed the throttles, slowing the big warplane so quickly so the Zero drew close. His guns wouldn't converge properly and he missed all his shots. However, my remaining gunner had the best shot and my eyesight was good enough to see the blood splatter across the Zero's cockpit.

The gunner had killed the pilot. I shivered, and levelled out the Catalina and trimmed it. I lowered the throttle as I noticed the engine temperatures creeping into the red. I'd climbed, during the engagement, now I was at five thousand feet and the air rushing in from the gun turrets was a little colder.

What was I going to do with the other gunner? How damaged was my plane? How much fuel did I have? Where would I land?

All of these things rushed through my mind frantically. The sun began to slowly creep across the sky, edging towards the sunset stage. The blue sky and clouds seemed peaceful, but how long was it until Henryk sent more planes? I called out to the gunner.

"You okay back there?"

"Roger, skipper! Keeping an eye out for other bogeys, ma'am," he responded.

He didn't seem to realise that I was the only other person, the other gunner was dead, or he was in some sort of dream world.

"Can you see the damage from there?" I yelled over the engines.

"Minor damage to the tail from what I can see, and the other gun is totally ruined. The wings are a little beat up, but I think she'll fly fine. The engines are okay, they aren't leaking anything," he replied.

I looked outside, seeing the mountains go past. Their peaks were topped with clouds, and they were barely one thousand meters away from the tip of the Catalina's wing. The air grew chilly, and I reasoned that the gun pods should have slides to close the slots for the barrel.

"You mind closing those holes back there?" I called, "It's getting a bit chilly!"

"Yes ma'am!"

The air blowing through was cut off abruptly.

I checked the fuel gauges; I'd only used about a quarter and I'd only been flying for about an hour. That fuel wouldn't last forever, and I wasn't sure how I'd imagine up some fuel to put in. I called out to the gunner- I needed some company.

"Come up here!" I yelled over the engines.

"Yes ma'am!"

The gunner removed himself from his turret and stalked stiffly down the passageway leading to the cockpit. He sat next to me, looking out the cockpit to the right. I didn't get to see his face because he did this.

"Look at me," I asked.

As he turned his head, his face changed into John's. I stared in disbelief, and John's icy blue eyes stared back evenly.

"John? Is that really you?" I stammered.

The weird John's eyebrow rose in that infuriating way, like I was stupid or dumb.

"I'm just your subconscious thoughts. I'm not the real John, not in the way you want," he said matter-of-factly, "I'm only your tortured mind trying to comfort itself. I can be cruel, if I want, I can be kind if I choose," he said ominously. I could already tell by the way he was speaking that it wasn't John. I looked into the fake-John's eyes. He seemed a bit disinterested, like I was a cockroach in a zoo.

"You won't find any comfort in me. After all, that's not what you want right now, is it?" he said.

Of course that's what I wanted right now. I wanted someone to protect me and comfort me and help me. But then, I didn't really know if that was what my subconscious wanted, as the not-John had said. I blinked at him, and then pinched his arm to make sure he was really there. He continued to watch me evenly with an intense gaze.

"Go away," I said angrily. I didn't want John if it wasn't actually John himself.

"I can't just disappear. I'm your gunner. You imagined me."

"I didn't imagine you! The gunner turned into you! If you're not really John, I don't want to talk to you or have you here to play mind games with me!""

"I'm not playing any games. You're the one yelling," he said calmly.

"Get back down to the gun! I don't want to talk to you!"

"Don't despise me. Your own mind created me, don't forget," he said, standing and stalking back down the passageway. I watched his form shrink, and I guessed that he'd returned to the gun. I shivered. Everything in Henryk's world was so wrong. Even my friends; what was the pilot trying to do to me? Any more of this and I was pretty sure I'd have a heart attack. I noticed the Catalina trying to climb, and levelled out the nose again. I didn't want to get too high, because I didn't know if this thing had oxygen and I didn't see any thick flying suits to shield me from the cold. The gunner already had one of his own.

Then I noticed the fuel indicator ticking down rapidly, and I stared in alarm as it dropped down to half suddenly. I called to the gunner,

"Are we leaking anything?"

I watched as he craned his head around to look up at the wing and engines.

"No ma'am, we're all good!"

Now the gauge had only one quarter of the fuel left. Henryk must be doing this, somehow. I began a slight descent, trying to get a little bit of airspeed before the engines spluttered and died from lack of fuel. I peered out of the cockpit, straining my eyes against the now setting dreamland sun. The clouds were dyed orange and the sky darkened, turning pink. I saw my landing site- the lake had continued on for some time, not narrowing at all. It wound like a snake on the left of the Catalina. I was at three thousand feet now, and the fuel was nearly empty.

The right engine coughed, revving wildly, and then cutting out. The rest of the fuel went to the left engine, which kept purring resolutely for another five minutes, and then cut out also.

"Ma'am? What's going on?"

"I don't know! The fuel is being drained and I've run out!"

"We must've had a sneaky leak!" he cried.

He didn't even know it wasn't anything remotely like a leak.

One thousand feet, now and I made sure the airspeed didn't get too high, at a slow one hundred and fifty knots. I saw the edge of the lake, and guided the big warplane over it. I closed the throttle and waited for the Catalina to slow down. I didn't really know how to land on water, so I decided I'd take it slow. The big plane teetered on the verge of stalling, just above the water. I lowered the nose, and the Catalina stalled gently onto the crystal surface of the lake. Water splashed everywhere as the plane slowed down. There wasn't any brake to make the stopping any easier, only the resistance of the water would help slow the warplane. Eventually, the plane stopped about two kilometres offshore.

I opened the door and peered out. The lake was so clear, I could see the bottom about fifty feet under, and I felt a bit sick seeing how deep it was. The gunner peered over my shoulder, and I got a good look at his face as he wasn't wearing John's. He looked about the age I'd imagined, around twenty one. He had short brown hair and green eyes, and a crooked, lazy smile that looked a bit cute. He patted me on the shoulder good naturedly.

"Good landing, I must say!" he said in his American accent.

"But now we have to swim to shore, and I'm not sure I can swim that far without help. I can't exactly die but not breathing is kind of disturbing."

"Maybe I could assist with that," said the gunner, but this time in John's deep, brassy tones. I knew what I expected as I turned around. There was the fake-John, watching me with those reserved eyes.

"I was sure Ididn't want you to appear then," I snapped.

"Maybe you didn't. But your consciousness did," he replied.

"Why would you help me anyway? You said you could be cruel. You're just my imagination, how can you help me?" I spat.

"Maybe I want to be kind, this time. Didn't you know your imagination created this plane? You can fly it, can't you? There is no reason why I can't help you, then," he said flatly.

I glared.

Should I even let him help me? He could let me get exhausted- let me sit on the bottom of the lake, I couldn't die, but I certainly didn't think it would be enjoyable. Even five hundred meters would be a marathon for me, let alone two kilometres. I decided I didn't really have a choice. I ran my hand absentmindedly over the Catalina's wet fuselage. I didn't really want to leave the big warplane; I'd grown attached to it. John obviously knew.

"It'll still be here. You can't de-imagine things," he said.

"Yeah, but will I remember where it is?" I muttered to myself.

"It's part of your imagination. You'll know where it is," the fake-John replied.

"Fine. I'll let you help me. I don't know how I can imagine up fuel, so I suppose we'll just have to leg it."

"So you're including me, then?"

I realised I'd said "we'll".

"Yeah, but I don't know how that'll develop so don't push it!" I snapped. The fake-John opened his mouth to speak, but he obviously thought better of it- closing it again. He jumped off the side of the Catalina, and splashed into the water. He sunk, of course; he was obviously the same weight as the real John. He watched me. Waiting. I sighed and threw myself in, squealing at the cold water.

It shocked me so much I forgot to swim or breathe and I sank like a stone. I felt strong hands under my arms and I was pulled forcefully to the surface, spluttering in a breath even though I knew I didn't need one.

"Gosh, that's cold," I said, cracking open an eye. I met the fake-John's instantly and he seemed somewhat amused.

"You'll have to deal with it if I'm going to swim you to shore."

"Be quiet," I replied.

I struck out, swimming by myself. The Spartan kept pace with a reserved gaze and occasionally offered insults about my swimming style.

I splashed water at him whenever he did so. After about one hundred meters, I couldn't go any further and I floated limply on my back, resting. I wouldn't ruin my pride with John helping me swim. I wanted to do it myself.

But of course, just like the real John, if he wanted to do something, he would do it. I felt his hands on my arms, pulling me after him as he swam. I struggled; water was getting up my nose.

"Hey! What are you-?"

He pulled me down slightly and water went over my head. I couldn't see because water was getting into my mouth, up my nose and everywhere else. I spluttered back up to the surface, opening an eye warily.

"What did you do that for?!" I cried angrily.

"It's the only way to get you to be quiet!" he replied, just as annoyed.

I shut my mouth and let him swim for me. Eventually, I felt hard pebbles under my feet and I stood up, retching water everywhere weakly.

"I am never going swimming with any John, real or not!" I spat. The fake-John didn't even seem to be tired, just breathing a little faster than usual. He watched me with a deprecating expression.

"I think there's something you should say," he said suggestively.

"I'm not in the mood to do anything," I said, flopping onto the sand.

"Th….Tha..n?" he began.

"What? Oh. Thank you, I guess."

I squinted, looking at the Catalina out on the lake. The water glinted off its fuselage, and the sunlight shone on the water through the holes on its wings. I heard a shuffling noise next to me and I turned my head to see John settle down beside me. Water still dripped from his wet flying suit and from his hair, and he looked a little annoyed at the droplets getting into his eyes.

I shook my own hair, flinging water everywhere. I stopped to find him watching me.

"I really would prefer it if you didn't wet me again," he said flatly.

"You're the one who dragged me two kilometres through the water," I retorted.

"That was completely necessary."

"You didn't have to all of a sudden grab me. You could have been trying to drown me for all I knew, and you're very lucky I can't die," I replied venomously.

He even looked a bit hurt at this.

"I would never kill you," he said disbelievingly.

"As far as I can tell, you're not really John and I don't know your motives."

"I might not be the John you remember, but I still wouldn't kill you. I don't have any motives. I'm your gunner- it's kind of my job to not have any. I follow orders from you."

I blinked. So the fake-John could be hurt, just like the real one.

"You're right. I'm judging you too much. I'm sad, and lonely and….And, I'm trapped in this world, and I don't know what to do," I sniffed.

John looked at me for a moment.

"You've got a body, out of this world, and a life. You believe that, and you can break free," he said.

This John really was different to the real one.

"I can't die, I can't get hurt, I've tried everything but I still can't wake up!" I said, distraught.

The fake-John looked at the sky blankly.

"Only Henryk will be able to set you free," he said, looking at me reservedly, "If you're going to get out of here, you'll have to convince him."

"But…You're my conscience so you should know this….But if I or John goes back to the Infinity, we'll destroy her and kill everyone on board. And Henryk thinks it's okay, like there's nothing I can do, but I can do something I just don't know what yet. It's ripping me apart," I said sadly.

"I can help you, although the things I can do are limited," he replied, "After all, I'm just your imagination. My limits are limited by your capacity."

I looked at the Spartan. Then I hugged him.

"You'd really help me like that? I mean, you kind of have no choice…But…"

The fake-John offered me a half smile, which looked kind of awkward on his serious features. I'd never seen the actual John smile before, so this was new. I smiled back. He obviously didn't like smiling either, for his facial muscles twitched slightly. It was probably for my own benefit.

He let the smile fade.

"Dry us off. If we're going to find a way to get out of here, we'll have to move quicker. Being wet will only slow us down," he said.

I closed my eyes. Maybe if I thought of warm weather, which might work.

I imagined the fake-John, and me, dry, clothes ruffling in the wind. Hot sun, hot wind. I thought hard, harder, harder-

"That's enough!" he said.

I snapped open my eyes to see the Spartan sweating profusely.

"You made it too hot!" he exclaimed. He quickly stripped off the thick flying suit, which I noticed looked a bit burnt. I grinned sheepishly.

I decided I'd imagine this John in the real one's casual UNSC clothing. I wanted this John to be as comforting as possible; to help stabilise me. After all, he was really the only thing I had right now that was close to a friend.

"Wha-?"

And there he was, wearing the long sleeved grey shirt and black nylon pants.

But this John looked supremely miffed.

"I'm not a model for you to dress up!"

I glared.

"If you're going to help me, I'm going to need some sort of emotional support. Being dressed up in the stuff that the person I trust most wears, I'm going to feel a whole lot safer," I snapped.

"I feel like some sort of stress toy," he sighed, "I'm not chiefly here to comfort you, I'm also here to be mean to you, to sharpen you. I'm warning you now; nothing can control your subconsciousness, so don't be surprised if I'm nasty!" he said, exasperated.

"It's hard being an image for my consciousness isn't it?" I laughed.

"You have no idea," he sighed.

I stood, brushed the sand off my clothes and began walking towards the forest around the edge of the lake. Huge pine trees towered over my head and small ferns struggled through the needles that the trees dropped, the air smelt sweet and clean and for once I felt calm and happy. The fake-John walked quietly beside me, offering no comment. I didn't expect any. This John was vastly different than the real one; different personality, different mannerisms, and it seemed, different way of thinking. I was a little nervous for when he was mean, as he'd warned- the real John had never been mean like he was suggesting. Sure, the Spartan had his moments but I was still worried.

The fake-John pulled me suddenly towards him and I realised I'd nearly walked into a bristly pine tree.

"Ugh! Thanks!"

"Don't get used to it," he said ominously.

"Do you know what I'm thinking?" I asked.

"Yes….The stuff deep inside, the stuff you don't think you're thinking."

"That's kind of creepy," I shivered.

"Don't be scared. I don't know what you're thinking, not like the real John does anyway," he said. I gave him a look and continued. I didn't feel hungry, because I didn't need food, just like I didn't need air or I couldn't die. I heard the not-John emit a strange sound, and I turned to look.

He'd stopped suddenly, and was standing three meters behind me. His expression looked faintly tortured, and his eyes were shadowed.

"Hey! Whatcha doin?" I called.

"I..I…Your…," he stammered.

"Are you going mean on me?"

He nodded.

"I can't….Fight it. I'm sorry," he said in a different, lower voice. Now, the blue in his irises had faded. It was nearly impossible to tell where the pupil started and the iris began; his eyes were that dark. I shivered- his eyes were just pits of black now and I fought the urge to scream and run. There wasn't even that coldness in his eyes that the blue gave, there was just nothing. I backed away.

"You can run, but you can never hide from him. He'll find you, wherever you flee," he said meanly.

I gulped.

"Gosh, I'm going to be so relieved when this is over," I muttered.

"It'll never be over. Even when I'm good again, I can change at any time and torment you until your last breath," he taunted.

"Shut up!" I yelled.

He advanced, barely one meter away now. His eyes bored into my own, alien and black. My defiance melted away like a snowman in summer. I turned, and I ran. Branches whipped in my face, stinging my eyes and tripping me. Roots tangled my feet.

"So the weakling decides to run," mocked the fake-John's voice all around me, echoing through the dense forest.

"Shut up, shut up, and shut up!" I whispered.

I emerged into a clearing, sunlight breaking through a gap in the gigantic pine trees. The grass was muddy, and one of my feet instantly sunk at least three foot into the ground. I screamed. It was like quicksand, except- quickgrass. I tried to pull my foot free, but it wouldn't budge. It sunk in even further as I tried again and again to free it. My other foot met the surface of the quickgrass and sunk also.

"Eeeek! Help me?! Anyone?"

If I got trapped in the quickgrass I wouldn't die but I wouldn't be able to get free, either. I turned my head to see the fake-John watching me.

"Help me!" I yelled at him.

He smirked and made no move to assist me.

Meanwhile, I'd sunk up to my stomach. The quickgrass was warm, and squishy just like quicksand. I turned to look at the John again.

"Remember, you said you wouldn't kill me? Well this is just as good as killing me, even if I can't die!" I said desperately.

I thought I saw the very edge of his eyes lighten slightly, allowing a tiny hint of blue.

"You promised you'd help me, didn't you? I trust you!" I said, encouraged.

He shook his head like there was a bothersome bug annoying him.

"No…No you can't do this…I'm your consciousness, talking to me won't work!"

He didn't sound confident, he sounded like he was trying to reassure himself. He looked at me, and I saw the sliver of blue grow a little. I was, or he was, beating back the evil that my subconsciousness was thinking about.

"You've got to help me, or I won't trust you, ever again. Never ever," I threatened.

Now my chest went under. He still wouldn't move. Now my neck….I tilted my head back so I could breathe. Even though I knew I couldn't die the instinct to breathe was still strong and I couldn't ignore it. I closed my eyes as the quickgrass went over my head.

Strong hands grabbed me under the arms, lifting me from the wet, sticky death-trap. I gasped in a not needed breath and sighed. My saviour laid me out on a patch of grass that wasn't quickgrass, and I looked up at the fake-John, his eyes somewhat friendly and blue again. I laughed.

"Thought I was a goner, then!" I smiled, "Thanks."

He looked a bit ashamed of himself.

"I'm truly sorry about that."

"It wasn't your fault. I mean, I'm not sitting on the bottom of a pit of wet muddy stuff so that's okay in my book," I replied, "Plus I know you didn't want to. I knew you fought it."

He didn't look convinced.

"If you say so."

He helped me to my feet.

"We've still got to find Henryk," I said urgently.

He nodded.

Uranila Camp

John

I started awake as something wet and slimy was deposited on my wolf bites, scratches and the burns I'd sustained from the Light. I struggled to sit up but I quickly heard a wolf growl.

"Stay still! I can't help you if you're thrashing all over the place!"

It was an old wolf with a croaky voice and a frail timbre. I could hear its wheezing breath and decided it was probably the healer.

"Rosamina?" I asked.

"That's me. Now be quiet so I can put more dressing on your injuries," she said firmly.

I recognised an important being even when I heard it, so I did as she asked.

She spat another load of wet slimy stuff on a particularly sore burn, and I hissed in pain.

"Can't you be more gentle?" I snapped.

Usually, I wouldn't feel much pain but my tolerance had been worn down with all the fighting. My temper had frayed slightly, too.

"If you want your wounds treated, be silent and deal with it or I won't even bother!" she croaked back fiercely, spitting another wad of wet stuff onto me.

I hissed again.

"You're done! Now stay in that position until I say you can get up! I don't want the dressings to come off," she said cantankerously.

I growled slightly, and she returned it. I heard her pad outside, and I sighed. I couldn't fall asleep again; the healer's dressings had aggravated my wounds and now they stung or burnt like fire.

I heard another set of footsteps and another wolf pushed through the tunnel, the branches rustling. I couldn't see, because I was on my stomach and facing inwards- but I could hear as well as anything.

"Hello, John," Stranakia yipped happily.

I didn't reply as I held back yet another hiss of pain.

"Hello?" she repeated.

"Hello, Stranakia," I replied through gritted teeth.

She obviously realised my anger.

"Don't worry. She'll come back in about half a deer leap and let you get up," she said encouragingly.

"She'd better, or I'll put one of her disgusting dressings on her face," I growled.

Stranakia barked with laughter,

"You'd better not. That might have some undesirable consequences."

"I've dealt with them before. I think I could do it again," I said flatly.

Stranakia snorted, and I heard the leaves on the floor crunch as she settled down near the entrance.

"Any news from Ezikal?" I asked.

"He howled while you were asleep, to Frazwera. He was asking if you'd arrived yet. Of course, Frazwera said yes, you were here and getting treated."

"I'm surprised I didn't wake up," I said.

"Probably after fighting all those Uranila wolves," she grunted.

"Tell Frazwera I'm sorry for killing her warriors."

"She doesn't mind. It was Janasirak's own fault they died. He was headstrong and reckless and trashed the rule that we don't attack humans, especially you," she growled.

I was a little startled as a loud crashing emitted from the tunnel, accompanied by loudly uttered strange words. I guessed they were wolf obscenities.

"Rosamina!" Stranakia gasped.

"Why is everyone so surprised to see me? I'm just an old she-wolf!" she said crankily.

"Can I get up yet?" I asked, somewhat irritated.

"Yes, yes of course. The dressings should have dried on by now," she said disinterestedly.

I sat up swiftly, slightly annoyed at the dry stuff attached to me. I resisted the urge to scrape it off. I still sat facing the wrong way, trying to get a grip on the annoying sticky wet stuff that hampered my every move.

"What exactly did you put on me?" I asked warily.

Rosmina snorted.

"Just a few plants and tree bark. Don't worry its nothing poisonous or particularly disgusting. Besides the few wolf droppings, to keep it together," she said.

Wolf-?

Forget it. I don't even want to think about it, I growled to myself.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

Stranakia barked with laughter, and Rosamina snorted.

"That's often the usual reaction, when my patients find out they've been plastered with wolf poo," she huffed.

I turned around finally, wanting to glare at the old healer. There was Stranakia, the white she wolf's muzzle curled in sympathy, orange eyes amused. And then I saw Rosmina. She was small, and had black fur streaked with silver. Scars lined her pelt and marred her snout, twisting her muzzle and lips- I couldn't look her in the eye for they were clouded over, blank expressionless pools of silvery-white. I cocked my head slightly at that, and then decided she was probably so old she should be blind. I stayed silent.

"That's also often the usual reaction when my patients see my face," she said, not at all bitter as I expected.

I didn't feel any sympathy. I couldn't anyway, and if I could, I still wouldn't have. It seemed like the old wolf didn't need it. Stranakia twisted her muzzle in what looked like a wolfish smile.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Not anymore. It did, though," I replied.

It was true. After the pain had gone, I'd been able to build up the barriers I had against pain. Even now, if it did hurt; it wouldn't trouble me. Rosamina snorted once again, and then stomped out of the tunnel.

"You'd better come outside. Patients tend to get sicker if they stay cooped up for too long. And I don't mean flu, or injury sick. I mean crazy."

"I highly doubt that'll happen to me," I replied flatly. Stranakia howled with laughter and followed Rosamina out. I crawled carefully through the narrow tunnel. I didn't think the old healer would appreciate it if I trampled her work space.

The bitingly cold air hit me like a Covenant alien. I staggered for a moment- my thin rags were a poor excuse for clothes, now. Even my tough nylon pants had been ripped and torn. Janasirak's teeth hadn't helped with that, either.

"Weakling. Not used to the cold yet," Rosamina said amusedly, obviously hearing my stumbling. I glared at her menacingly, even though I knew she couldn't see my expression. I shook my head, exasperated.

"Maybe if I was clothed a little more it would make some sort of difference," I hissed back.

"And I can help with that," said another wolf behind me. I turned to see Frazwera watching me, "Our hunts brought back two deer in the past hour. We haven't eaten yet, so you can salvage the skin. I'd hurry- My wolves are slavering all over the place get to them. Ezikal told me about your plight," she said, flicking her tail behind her.

Just as she'd promised, two fat deer lay sprawled on the ground; and also as she'd said wolves surrounded the bodies. Drool also dripped from their muzzles. I made my way over, sinking irritatingly into the snow. The wolves whimpered at me, clearly urging me to hurry up. I drew my knife, the blade glittering harshly in the mid-day sun, and several of the wolves growled. I examined the deer carefully. Its slender legs lay sprawling awkwardly and its eyes stared dumbly at the sky, and I decided its neck would be the easiest place to start skinning it.

It was messy work, but the two deer were quickly skinned. I held the pelts up, and the wolves whimpered again. I wondered why they weren't tucking in, and I looked curiously at Frazwera.

"You were the first animal that wasn't a hunter to touch the prey. Therefore, you are the owner. You'll have to give them permission," she growled.

I gestured to the deer distractedly.

The wolves rushed forward in a howling, yelping, barking mass, and the deer soon disappeared under the multi-coloured swarm. Frazwera joined in, too, and so did Stranakia and Rosamina. Even though the wolf was blind, she snapped at anything that wouldn't allow her to reach the carcass. I moved away. They were obviously in a frenzy, and who knows, maybe I could get mistaken for food and pounced on. I sat awkwardly in the cold snow and examined the deer pelts. I'd managed to not get too much blood on the skin on the underside- but it still needed to be cleaned. I got up and headed towards the ridge, climbing up the steep snowy slope to get out of the wolves' home. As I climbed the ridge, I looked back at the feeding wolves. Their makeshift stick and leaf homes stood out starkly against the snow, and I found myself wondering how many soldiers it would take to destroy the wolves' home. I shook myself. No UNSC soldiers would be coming here anytime soon. I made it over the ridge and descended into the forest, utterly silent.

I listened for the sound of running water, straining my ears and cursing at the loud sound of my own breathing. I held my breath.

There it was- far away and faint, but still there and it sounded at least five hundred meters away. I turned towards the trickling sound and trudged through the snow.

I nearly fell into the small creek. It had half frozen over, the edges crisp with ice and frost. The water glittered, and I dipped in the deer skins. They stiffened immediately with the cold, and I scrubbed the blood off quickly, careful not to let my hands touch the freezing water. Eventually, the gore was gone and I set the skins out to dry. I shivered a little. Then I sneezed. Now that was unusual .I hadn't sneezed for years, I rarely got sick. I shook my head ruefully. After the stuff to do with the light, I shouldn't be shocked anymore by anything. I picked up the deer skins and headed back to the ridge. I stumbled up the slope, hampered by the huge surface area of the half frozen deer skins, slapping wetly against me. I nearly fell down the steep slope as I'd done when I'd arrived. Instead, I slipped and slid down it on my back, then tumbling head over heels as I encountered a deep drift of snow near the entrance of the Uranila pack's home. I face planted into the snow as I slid into the camp. I scrambled upright, sniffing wildly as I tried to get snow out of my nose and mouth, and I heard a chorus of amused barks.

I turned to find every single wolf in Uranila howling with laughter. Stranakia staggered out from a group of wolves and stumbled over to me, in fits of yips and high pitched barks.

"Is that your signature entrance? By that, I mean failing! Horribly!" she howled.

"Easy for you to say. You've got four legs," I stated flatly.

Frazwera followed the white wolf, her growls of amusement much more under control.

"He does have a point; don't be too hard on him. I mean, he is a human after all," she barked.

"Barely," I hissed, a little hurt at the reminder of how different I was. How inhuman I was.

Stranakia's reply was to leap on me and lick my face, yipping excitedly.

"Hey!"

"Shut up and deal with it!" she said, punctuating her sentence by giving me a huge lick, starting at my chin and ending at my forehead. I pushed her off, scrambling away and holding the deer pelts in front of me like a shield. The Uranila wolves howled with laughter. I ignored them; instead looking at the snow beneath my feet, giving me an idea- I secretly gathered a clump within my hands, rolling it into a ball and throwing it at Stranakia. The white she-wolf didn't see what was coming quickly enough, the snowball landing right between her eyes. She yelped in surprise and skipped away.

"What was that for?!" she barked indignantly.

"For the slobber you dripped all over me," I replied flatly.

Frazwera howled her amusement, and then called for a halt.

"Enough funny business! John, you'll need to soften those pelts before you cut them into anything resembling clothes. Otherwise, you'll spoil the hide," she growled.

Rosamina pushed towards me from a group of wolves.

"Outta my way you scallywags!" she snarled. She stalked up to me, sniffing. She completed a full round inspection of sniffing then came to stand in front of me, her sightless eyes bulging.

"You'll heal fine. Nothings infected and the wounds are closing nicely," she grunted.

She could tell all that by smelling?

Well, I suppose I could judge an enemy's whole approach by just hearing their footsteps, so why shouldn't her nose be her tool?

I felt a little tired. The long trek, the fight with Janasirak and his wolves, and the freezing cold had all worn down my reserves of strength. I rose to my feet, picking up the deer hides.

"Can one of your wolves chew this for me?" I asked.

"Of course," Frazwera barked, "Lupuan!"

A young wolf emerged from a group.

"Frazwera?" he asked shyly.

"The honourable John needs someone to soften his deer hides. Would you be willing to chew on them for him?"

The silvery grey wolf's yellow eyes lit up.

"Such an honour! Of course, Frazwera! I shall chew all day and all night," he said, rushing forward to stand in front of me.

"Sir?" he asked.

I dropped the hides in front of him and he hurriedly scooped them off the ground with his jaws. He bolted away towards a small stick igloo, and I guessed that was his home.

"Thank you, Frazwera. You've done far more than I expected," I said.

"I'll do everything it takes to keep you comfortable and safe until the Light decides it's time to take you back," she said happily.

Weird Dream World

Emily

I halted just in front of the clearing. The clearing, where I'd first appeared in this crazy messed up dream or whatever world. I called it a dream world 'cause I could manifest objects, I couldn't die or feel pain or anything.

The consciousness-John turned to give me a look.

"I'm not sure Henryk will be able to see me," he said.

"Why not?"

"I'm just an image of your thoughts. Kind of. I think I only exist in your eyes, and that to Henryk I won't have any form, and I won't be there, if you catch my drift," he said sheepishly.

"Yeah. Yeah I get it. But I think we'll have to just try that out, won't we?"

He glanced at me with his icy blue eyes. They seemed more emotional than the real John's, more alive, and more human. He blinked twice in quick succession, and I stepped out into the grassy field. The wind whipped my hair, and I thought I could sense great power, somehow, around me. John stepped out beside me, and he looked slightly nervous, glancing around him every so often in anxiety.

"Henryk!" I cried out. My yell echoed around the field, and the wind halted suddenly. All was quiet, and I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. I stomped to the middle of the field.

There was a flash of light behind me and I turned to see Henryk looking at me. His greenish-blue eyes were sad, tortured….And angry. He stood in an arrogant posture.

"Why did you run? You forced me to keep being in here, because you ran away so far I couldn't send you back, so I could go too. It's probably been about two days on the Infinity now, and they would have put me in hospital, said I was comatose. I don't know," he said in his strange accent.

"I ran because you thought it was okay. Me, what I would do to everyone on board the Infinity. I'd burn them in a million degree sun!" I screamed angrily.

"I wasn't going to pretend it was okay! I was going to work something out!" Henryk hissed, exasperated.

The fake-John touched my arm.

"Don't fight him," he whispered, "You need to work together."

I looked up at him, and he touched a finger to his lips and winked slyly. He obviously knew Henryk couldn't see him, so he circled around the pilot and stuck rabbit fingers up behind his head. I giggled slightly.

"I can sense your friend, Emily, although I cannot see him," he said quietly.

The fake-John's expression changed and he slinked away. The huge Spartan looked kind of awkward stalking embarrassedly away.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Send me back to my world, and my body," I suggested.

"I can't just do that. We need to figure out how to stop this! Eventually one of you is going to have to go back to the Infinity- that much we've worked out so far from your previous adventures."

"The only thing we can really do is beg the Librarian, cause I sure as hell can't control that Light," I said.

"That's it- we'll ask the Librarian. I don't think she'll hear us in my world. I'll send you back to your body; and you can ask her. I think she's always watching you, always listening. She'll hear," he said excitedly, "Ready?"

"Wait! I need to say bye to my other Jo- err, friend," I said, turning towards the fake-John.

He smiled sadly.

"I guess this was bound to happen," he said ruefully, "After all, I'm only a display for your consciousness, your thoughts, your imagination. I'm not really worth much," he sighed.

"You're wrong. You are worth something. Maybe- just maybe- Henryk can bring me back here, and I'll meet you again. I promise," I said, hugging him.

"I'll be waiting," he said wistfully, "Please, I hope you keep your promises."

I laughed,

"You should know that better than most people. After all, you know my darkest secrets," I smiled.

"Ready?" Henryk asked once more, smiling.

"Beam me up Scotty!" I cried.

"Aye aye, captain!" the pilot winked.

There was a flash of light and I couldn't see.

Then I woke up.

Wolf Planet

John

The young wolf who'd chewed the deer hides appeared in Rosamina's house the next day. I pulled the pelts out of his jaws, now supple and as flexible as the day they were still attached to the animal it came from.

"Thanks," I said to the wolf.

"Anytime, sir," he barked, scurrying away.

Now how was I going to make clothes? I didn't have a needle. Or thread. Plus the fact I didn't even know how to sow.

I was going to have to learn.

Even though there was nothing or no-one to learn from?

This was going to be hard.

Oliver's House

Emily

I woke with a start, stretching my limbs to make sure I still had them. I cracked open my eyes to find Oliver, Rose, Daisy and Samuel all standing over me. They were hugging and crying, laughing. Golden light shone onto me as I lay on the couch, warming my cold arms and legs; the sun was setting.

"You're okay!" Oliver cried happily.

Daisy simply crushed her brother in a bear hug.

"Wha..What happened?" I asked groggily. My throat felt thick, like congealed blood, probably because I hadn't used it for some time.

"You were asleep for three days. Non-stop, never waking, barely breathing. Barely alive, it seemed like you were going to die," Samuel said.

I'd guessed as much.

"Where'd you go? What was going on?" Rose asked.

"Well…Its…I was in a world. Another world," and so I explained all about Henryk, what happened on the Infinity, and the dream world. By the end of it every single one of the faces staring at me were awed and amazed.

"So you're saying that Henryk has some sort of magic? Or power?"

"Well, yeah. I suppose you can put it that way, hey?" I replied sheepishly.

With a start I realised my face and arms were no longer burnt; they didn't feel like they were on fire.

"I'm not hurt anymore!" I exclaimed.

"It was amazing. One day ago, they simply…Well, crusted over and healed up in half an hour. It was scary for the kids," Rose commented.

A dog barked outside, and I guessed it was Vega, the family's Staffy cross.

My stomach cried out in torture.

"We'll get you some food. We got a little water into you, but no food, not at all," Samuel said.

I raised my arms and they shook. They were weak and thin, the bones on my wrist sticking out more than ever. I slowly pulled myself up, my muscles cramped and aching. My head hurt slightly as I stood, staggering slightly. Oliver propped me up and led me over to the table, and I plopped myself down onto a chair. Rose set a plate of food in front of me; two golden brown buns smeared with yellow butter, and a glass of cool, refreshing water. I scoffed the food and sculled the water. I wouldn't eat anymore too quickly, as it could be kind of hurtful to my stomach.

Instead, I demanded to see the sunset. I pushed back my chair with weak, thin arms and went outside onto the porch of the house. The sky glowed pink and red, the dying sun dipping below the horizon, the last rays of sunlight glinting off the roofs of houses. I rested my elbows on the handrail and closed my eyes happily as the cool air wafted my hair about.

I started in surprise as I saw what I thought was a comet streaking across the sky. But it grew closer, and closer. Its huge fiery tail was very visible now, at least…..

Five kilometres long.

No.

It couldn't be.

The Infinity grew closer, and now I could see the blunt prow of the huge spaceship, hear the roar of the engines- a deep rumbling which rattled my teeth and shook the window panes of Oliver's house. The family rushed outside, gaping at the Infinity. It was now close enough for me to see escape pods, Broadswords and Pelicans and other little ships ejecting from random hangar doors and tunnels, and hatches. I hoped Fred, Kelly, Linda, Amanda and Henryk were on one of those escaping spacecraft.

The sound began to hurt my ears now, and the Infinity roared across the sky only about one kilometre away from the house and ploughed into the ground with a mighty crash.

I saw buildings crushed, roads crumpled and parks and trees and God knows what else destroyed by the huge hull of the Infinity. The ground shook so hard, the porch swayed underneath my feet and I was thrown to the ground.

Then the shockwave hit and Oliver's house disintegrated.

I knocked my head on a piece of flying wood and I was out cold.

Pelican 087-105-711

Henryk

"Keep her straight!" Amanda hollered.

"I can't!"

The Pelican was damaged from smashing into the Infinity's side after being ejected.

"I didn't fix this piece a junk ta let ya smash it again!"

The Spartans in the troop bay stayed silent, Amanda sitting in front and below me in a separate cockpit. I picked a park to land in, big and grassy and I began to guide the stricken Pelican down.

"Gently, ya foreign oaf!

I gritted my teeth angrily, firing the thrusters underneath to slow the Pelican's descent. There was a loud bump, I turned off the engine and opened the troop bay ramp, also opening the cockpits. I jumped out into the crisp night air, Amanda following. The Spartans began to establish a perimeter, sneaking around like cats in the gloom of the fading sun.

"What are ya doin? We're in Emily's world; ya don't need ta to that!" Amanda hollered angrily at Blue Team. I shrugged at her.

"That's their nature. Let them do what they were trained to do," I replied.

"I still can't believe that bloody Light sucked the whole Infinity into it and dumped us into the atmosphere of Emily's Earth!" she exclaimed.

I shook my head ruefully.

"At least we aren't headed for a sun," I pointed out.

The Spartans of Blue Team returned.

"There's nothing here besides trees and grass. We can hear cars, but we decided we wouldn't go that far," Linda reported.

"Then we should stay here," I said.

"Shouldn't we go to the Infinity or something?" Amanda said, waving her hand to the bulk of the majestic spaceship about two kilometres away, looming ominously in the dim light. Her face was hard to read.

"Too far," Fred said.

"We should hide, then. The authorities in Emily's world should be here soon, I dare say," I mused.

Kelly agreed.

"Get to the trees."

UNSC Infinity

Commander Thomas Lasky

I heaved myself off the floor using a smoking, sparking monitor.

"Roland!"

The AI appeared nearby on an undamaged holographic table. His yellow avatar seemed a little upset, his WWII fighter pilot goggles glinting.

"Status report."

"Major damage to the hull, but no breaches. She's still space worthy. Engines are critical but they're not melting down."

The rest of the bridge's crew recovered slowly.

Suddenly the door was ripped open and Sarah rushed in, her coppery ponytail swinging wildly. Her armoured feet thumped loudly on the floor.

"We're on Emily's Earth. A lot of escape pods and Pelicans and what nots ejected, and they're scattered all over this city. Should we send teams to retrieve the people inside?" she asked.

"No. We can't risk an engagement with this world's forces," I replied.

"We've already done that by crash landing our huge ass ship here!"

I paused.

"Point taken."

"I reckon a few people here would know what the Infinity is. The Halo fans of the game Emily told us about," she said.

"I don't think that'll help us too much," I replied ruefully.

Fifteen Hours Later

Unknown Wrecked Street

Emily

Sunlight filtered in through my closed eyelids, and I coughed. Dust clogged my throat and my nostrils and I cracked open my eyes.

I sat on a pile of rubble, bright sunshine beating down on me. The huge grey hulk of the Infinity loomed in the distance, dominating the landscape completely.

I'd always thought Halo had come to me, as John. But it would only be now that I realised how wrong I was.

Now, it had really come.

87