Forgotten World - Halo Fanfic

I'll just split up the pieces now:

Know this. Because of the fact that Halo is complex and very unique, I’m going to try to follow all the Halo facts there are and try to make sure the evidence and timing and what not is dead spot on. This way, you guys won’t bitch at me for being inaccurate. All information is taken either from knowledge of the Halo Universe itself, or Halopedia, although I’m not sure if it’s that accurate. Tell me. =P

And no, when you read the part about white op, don’t take it as racism. I know everyone will, but I’m just saying.

So, in the end, this is what I came up of:

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo. It belongs to Bungie, but not Microsoft.



In reality, no protocol had been made by the name of the Outcast Protocol before the year 2525. In fact, Vice Admiral Preston Cole didn’t establish it until two years after the event of the devastation and recapture of the Harvest colony. At the time, the Office of Naval Intelligence, or ONI for short, was divided only into a dichotomy instead of the four sections that it was split up into. The reason for four was simply because ONI needed each task to be special and focused. With a war that was being won faster than the UNSC could mobilize their troops from their toilet seats, it was quite obvious ONI needed to be able to operate as fast as possible.

There were indeed four sections of ONI, each particularly operating with different forms of intelligence. The first, hence the name, was Section One, which was the main body of ONI. They gathered everything from Covenant and Human force deployment to evaluation of certain colonies across the galaxy. This section handled data with extra care, and is the main reason why much data over the course of the war was inevitably lost. Information even in the heavily encrypted databases could easily cracked and seen.

Section Two dealt with propaganda, and made sure that the common public did not overreact to the destruction of certain planets, strongholds, ships, and high military figures during the war. Because of Section Two, Reach, a devastated world, remained an impenetrable fortress in the eyes of common public. And it is because of Section Two, that Spartans were never allowed to officially die, due to the fact that the death of any Spartan would cause uproar and loss of morale would spread through the ranks faster than the Covenant could fire their plasma turrets. Thus came the reason why every dead Spartan was not marked with the marker KIA, but with the marker of MIA.

Section Three handled the most dangerous operations during the Human-Covenant War. Spartan Two’s, Nova Bombs, MJOLNIR armor testing, all were guided and overseen by Section Three. Although they didn’t handle the most secretive of projects, Section Three was the section that was supposedly the division that would guarantee the prolonged war. And in fact, it did. The arrival of Spartan II’s greatly influenced the war, and ironically, instead of prolonging the war, the Spartan II project won the war with the existence of a single man.

Finally, however, was Section 0, and in the eyes of many, Section 0, didn’t exist, and would never exist. After the war, Section 0 unleashed files of its project, and the subsequent events that followed lead to Section 0’s abolishment and termination. They handled heavy data encryption projects, and the infamous Spartan III project, which inevitably failed in the end, due to the heavy loss of life. ONI’s biggest prize was indeed Section 0, who until 2553, only was known by a few people. Out of those people, there were very few even in ONI, who knew about Section 0’s existence.

Section 0 also dealt with the highest priority jobs. These jobs were probably the opposite of what Section Three was designed to do. Instead of the “illegal” use of human beings and deadly study of a nuclear cataclysm, Section 0 prioritized with jobs such as terminating illegal programs that were not authorized by anything other than the Office of Naval Intelligence. Not only that, they wrote the fundamental laws that made up the UNSC’s guidelines. Laws such as the Cole Protocol, was verified by Section 0, and the Outcast Protocol was specifically outlined and written by Section 0 itself.

If Section Three was considered the “black op” of the Office of Naval Intelligence, then Section 0 could be considered ONI’s “white op.”

It was due to Section Two and Section 0, that the Outcast Protocol was passed. It was obvious, that a single battle could cripple the UNSC Navy and influence the outcome of an already devastating war. It was already seen when Vice Admiral Cole retook Harvest and lost most of his ships, even when he outnumbered the Covenant three to one. Retaking Harvest was indeed suicide, and in the end, nothing was learned about the Covenant, except that their technologies inevitably were light years ahead of the UNSC’s.

No shit.

And so, Section 0 wrote the Protocol, and outlined it specifically, and Section Two was given the task to publish it. As it came out, people were outraged, and people became frightened. Those on the fringes of UNSC held space became frightened of the Protocol’s reality, and dozen’s of planets were abandoned due to the UNSC’s utter and final decision. The knowledge that UNSC conventional weapons almost had no effect on a new technologically advanced species frightened the media, and Section Two, for the first time, had failed in what it had designed to do.

The Harvest conflict proved one inexorable thing. Once a planet was taken, the Covenant was absolutely vicious in defending their prize. Religious fanatics already, the Covenant mobilized better, reacted faster, and fought harder when it came to defending their own grounds or grounds that they had already taken from the UNSC. And another win like the Harvest Conflict might spur morale boosts, but victory would again come at a huge price for the UNSC while the Covenant continued to feast off seemingly infinite resources and hundreds of ships and millions of disposable soldiers from only God knows where.

The Outcast Protocol stopped another Harvest Conflict from happening every again. It stated that no colony that was taken from the Covenant could be retaken, and was punishable by marshal law to do. It also stated that colonies that were either surrounded by Covenant controlled planets or were avoided by the Covenant but now outside UNSC controlled space could also not be rescued, in case that the Covenant was nearby. The second area was designed specifically to make sure that avoided planets stayed avoided, and that no more loss of human life was going to occur.

Cruel, but necessary. The UNSC fought a losing war, and with the Outcast Protocol in effect, at the year’s end, the loss of ships had been cut down by half. This lessened each year, as less rescue missions were carried out each year, and the Covenant found themselves fighting an adapting enemy, and with more ships at their disposal. More battles were won, and more of Covenant technology was discovered because the Outcast Protocol also limited the use of Prowlers and other reconnaissance vehicles from venturing into unknown space. The reconnaissance vehicles were then used for other important tasks, which led to the development of the MJOLNIR armor and its regenerating shield technology.

Punishment for breaking the protocol was rather severe. First offenses would be stripped of their rank and would have their ships decommissioned and given into more “capable” hands. The crew of the captain or commander would also be demoted for not having the sense to stop their captain from breaking the law. A second offense would mean being shipped to the most outer regions of UNSC controlled space, where they’d cause no more harm to International Security.

Although this kept the UNSC from closer defeat and might’ve been a prime reason for a prolonged war, there were still millions of lives lost because no one was allowed to go to the aid of an already doomed world. Millions were killed, and a billion more were glassed under Covenant plasma fire. It was ruthless, and the onslaught continued in the Outer Colonies as governments over each world began to wonder why the UNSC had abandoned them.

Citizens of colony worlds that were avoided by the Covenant or were under siege became outcasts, hence the name of the protocol. They became outcasts, undesirables, and the forgotten deaths of the war. The kill ratio of citizen deaths and the deaths of outcasts were near an even keel. Just like that, because of a single protocol, a fourth of human population was swiped clean off the face of the galaxy. Was it really necessary? Perhaps, but the loss of citizen life was something that no human being other than Section 0 would ever understand.

But in terms of efficiency, the number of times the Outcast Protocol was broken was almost none. The effects and consequences, as well as the risk, of breaking the protocol made people realize how lucky some of them were to be able to survive the battles of Jericho, or the Atlas Moons, or Sigma Octanus. It was because of this protocol that people not only questioned sacrificing millions for billions, but if their lives might be the ones to save the world from a catastrophic apocalyptic doom. In their minds, a single shot from an archer missile pod could decide the balance of a battle or fate of the conflict.

Of course, all laws were made to be broken, and it was broken only once by a single ship who attempted to rescue a colony world that hosted up to ten million souls. The ship never returned, and ONI shook its head, making an example of how it was futile to try to conflict with a law that was obviously made to ensure the continuation of mankind. It was not to save a million souls. If ONI sacrificed ten billion souls to keep the human race alive and allow it to reproduce, then that was what they would do.

The only problem was that it still spurred the moral debate, and the prime example, would be the horrifying experience that no one would ever truly remember. It only exists now as a monumental document, transcribed by a weak file, that tells the truth. After hearing it, the Outcast Protocol was abolished, although it was no longer necessary to start with.

That morality was questioned, with the fate of Zion II.

Zion II was a large trading colony for the fringe worlds of the Outer Colonies. In reality, it was only a few minutes away from Harvest when using the Shaw-Fujikawa Slipspace Drives, which made it very close to the very edge of UNSC controlled space. It was rather a merchant’s wet dream, and was dubbed the largest trading outpost in human history. But as a large recession of the economy came into motion, traders began to pull away from Zion II, simply because the flight was too costly and time wasting. Because of the lack of traders, the UNSC took Zion II into its own hands and made it a military shipyard of both naval and ground purposes.

Because rebel raiders or pirates usually attacked the Outer Colonies, Zion II was outfitted by the UNSC a large amount of ground troops, weapons, vehicles, and personnel. By Section Two’s propaganda, it was to keep the rebel’s away from an important trading outpost, but it was obvious that they were protecting Zion II from the Covenant. Zion II delivered food, money, weapons, and other assortments across the Outer Colonies. The reason why the first conflict during a conflict with an opposing rebel faction was won by the UNSC was because Zion II was able to ship a rather large amount of weapons and assorted equipment which tipped the conflict in the UNSC’s favor.

But in the year 2525, just a few months after the loss of Harvest, and the Battle of Harvest was still only in the beginning stages of the to-be “greatest” naval battle in the history of mankind, a strange phenomenon occurred. In mist of the chaos, Zion II disappeared, and a complete radio black out emerged in between the UNSC and it’s Outer Colony weapons provider. The Outcast Protocol was still not in motion, but the idea had begun to simmer in the minds of everyone at the Office of Naval Intelligence. Too much attention was now focused on Harvest, and ONI simply believed Zion II had probably been hit with the same fate. With Vice Admiral Cole and his gargantuan fleet still not sure about what took Harvest, no one gave a second thought about Zion II, and the large military force stationed there.

In reality, no one knew about Zion II except perhaps Harvest and a few other colonies. But Zion II, despite its small popularity level, bloomed with economic growth. But with Zion II gone, and Vice Admiral Cole first making contact with the Covenant, ONI conveniently forgot about Zion II, knowing that the public would not want to hear that two colony worlds had been completely obliterated in just a few days time. Large amounts of fear would spread, and the worlds would stumble into chaos.

ONI wouldn’t let that happen.

Section Two and Section 0 both destroyed the files ever linking to Zion II’s existence. Every trade, every ounce of money ever transacted there was forgotten and lost. The soldiers stationed there became KIA, and were said to have participated in the battle of Harvest, where their sacrifice allowed a large contingent of soldiers to break through enemy lines, and lead the UNSC to victory against a higher foe. Every scrap of metal that made up the machines of war that were crafted by the UNSC were listed as damaged or destroyed.

Zion II no longer existed.

But it did exist. And the men weren’t just sacrifices for a brave cause during a large conflict. They were the targets of a slaughter, a helpless and reckless onslaught, where the foe was neither pitiful nor merciful. It was the story of a struggle, and the story of a forgotten world, where no one bothered to look. They were the first outcasts, and they were the first to cry for help, and get nothing in return.

The Outcast Protocol did not exist then. But the men and women who fought against an impossible enemy were the first of the millions and billions of Outcast, who were lost to the aliens and harbingers of death that strode through the UNSC as if it was a park that was to be trampled upon.

It was the story of an epic struggle to survive, and the story told through the eyes of a single strand of data that survived the bitter conflict that occurred on Zion II. The truth, embedded and fired in a ray of light and energy, was finally given to Section 0, just days before its termination. The signal was weak, but the truth was there, and the first to read the horrifying glimpses of the deadly struggle between man and beast became visible to the naked eye once more.

But it was not a message of just truth. It was a distress signal, made in 2525, during the radio blackout that occurred, blocking ONI’s communication with Zion II. It was a cry for help. A cry that was never answered, and the ones who cried out for salvation from the obliteration were lost. Every single one, fighting or hiding, was inevitably lost. Either by the cruel fate of time or ONI’s deadly and cruel destruction of information, every man or woman who fought on Zion II was destined for ultimate extinction. None survived those few weeks on Zion II.

The distress signal came into Section 0’s hands in 2556.

By then it was too late, and Zion II was never recovered. It was never remembered by anyone at that time, and the only one old enough to remember what happened had retired, not willing to do another job for Section 0, terrified at the deeds he had committed, and regretting the sins he had to take to save humanity. So instead, the document was given to ONI’s top brass, where it was published and a monument was built in its place for the brave heroes of Zion II, for everyone to read.

But no one can visualize the devastating terror of the conflict. They can only read. They can only imagine, what it was like, for the battalions of troops, stationed on Zion II, doomed to die, but fighting for a cause that they knew that their fellow military men would fight for until the war was won.

It was because the human race was designed to survive. Their competitiveness drove them to claw for the top dog in the circle of life. They wanted to live, whereas others were content with dwelling low in the societal hierarchy of nature. Because of this, Zion II continued to fight, until every last man and woman had died. Until every last weapon was spent, and every last bullet fallen to the floor and every last vehicle smoldering in plasma burns, with no more oil in the tank.

They continued fighting until the last breath had escaped their bodies, and the last light faded from their eyes, and every last resource slowly drove itself into extinction, and every last glimpse of hope and salvation were gone, and every last option had run out.

As a result, their compelling battle and the slaughter of everyone on Zion II outraged the common public. Because of Zion II, Section 0 was terminated, and everyone in the sector decommissioned, never to tell what had happened during those years, locked down in a military secure building, deleting away at files that no one would ever see.

But the story got out.

Here is their story.

Here is Chapter 1.

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo or Bungie or any of its existing franchises. However, the characters created from here on out are all original and are to be treated as such. Therefore they are mine. Yes, I’m selfish. Now get the hell away from my characters.




The ASS, as the jokers of space command would’ve called it, the Archimedes Space Station slowly pulled itself around Zion II, sinking in geosynchronous orbit around the planet. Tens of billions miles away lay a radiating class blue star, powering the solar panels of the ASS. The space station powered to life, lights flaring around it, as it continued to rotate, watching as UNSC ships in the vicinity slowly docked with the space station.

The Archimedes Space Station was primarily a large disk, made cleanly out of Titanium A armor. The rotary disk was cut in the middle, a large circular hole with docking ports for UNSC ships from every class. In measurement, the space station measured up to up to four miles in every direction. The complete circumference was approximately 12 miles, with the middle having the circumference of 6 miles, so that it would be able to host larger UNSC class ships.

The large station was also thick, and had at least a few hundred meters thick of Titanium A armor to hold the entire thing together. Ships docked in the middle, as this was a genius of science. The disk would rotate for centrifugal force, and as the ships in the middle were locked tight in place, the station would be able to generate an artificial gravity, similar to the gravity of Zion II. The ships in the middle reaped the benefits of gravity as well, moving with the station, so that it generates gravity.

The centrifugal force was powered by the planet’s gravity, and the station’s secondary generators, which were either powered by solar panels, UNSC ships, or powered by a storage room of energy capacitors, which were placed through a transformer to generate enough energy to power the station. The prime generators powered everything else, and gave power to the main room of the space station, the control room. The prime purpose of the control room? Calculate any data given to it, including imports and exports from Zion II, visitors, and identify any unidentified craft, and identify them.

Lieutenant Mark Bradley marveled at his station, pleased to see it at work. Beside him, the window portrayed at least four UNSC ships parked and docked in the Archimedes Space Station, each offering some of their power to the secondary generator. To his right was his personnel holoscreen, where Lieutenant Jamie Park would send her own information and reports to him, where he’d verify them, make sure they were polished and sent through the space station’s mail system, which was the station’s prime jewel.

There were two ways to fire off information. The first was obvious. Streaming data through the web across world after world until it made it’s way to the designated user. This was the conventional, and easy way, and required almost no work whatsoever. However, when the first failed, there was always a backup. It was quite risky, since aiming it required precise aim, but it was efficient enough, nonetheless. To scientists, it made the ultimate way of transferring data.

The Space Station hosted an orbital cannon, which fired off radiation. The cannon was first found on Zion II when it first was discovered. When discovered, it was believed, an alien species had once populated the planet, and the cannon was salvaged, and was discovered to have enormous abilities to fire off immense forms of radiation. This radiation could go for light years and light years and not even dim. The power in this gave scientists hope that they now had a more sufficient way to transfer data.

Thus, the orbital cannon was implemented into the Archimedes Space Station, and was made the fail-safe mode if all other systems had failed. The only reason it wasn’t used more, was that the cannon took extreme power, and was why most of the time the cannon was turned off. For some reason, just being rooted to the ground had made the cannon somehow self-regenerating, as it powered itself up, continuously firing, which was how Zion II was found in the first place. Astronomers noticed a large dispatch of radiation, and decided to look for it. Their discovery was Zion II.

Lieutenant Bradley looked at his subordinate, a feisty young woman by the name of Jamie Park. Although they were designated the same rank, Mark Bradley liked his masculine honor to be preserved, and Jamie didn’t offer any resistance, promptly accepting the change of command. They both were the only personnel who ran the Archimedes, and as such, it was obvious that Mark got lonely after a while, his hunger and raw human needs sometimes overcoming his duties. Jamie, on the other hand, stuck to a strict code of celibacy, not daring to take another venture with another man.

But Mark, being in the higher spot of command, usually had less to do, and usually spent his time watching Jamie’s eyes and fingers as they wandered around the keyboard, wandering aimlessly in grace. It had become quite a pastime, since there was almost nothing to do around Zion II. Being on the outer rim didn’t offer many jobs.

“Get done with that report already Park!” Mark growled, pulling a cigar out of his pocket and placed it in his mouth, slowly chewing on the soft substance. “When I said to catalogue that request for that symbologist, I never thought you’d write an essay!”

“No smoking on deck sir. You know that. “ Jamie muttered, ignoring the derogatory comment. “I’m still a lieutenant you know. I could have you court marshaled for not following law.”

“Ah, who the hell follows the damn protocol these days except those ONI bastards? And then again, ONI usually has a veil of secrecy. Who knows what the heck’s going on behind those doors back on Earth.” Mark laughed, and lighted the cigar on fire, took in a puff of smoke, and blew a breath out. “Besides, it just makes the air a little dirtier. What’s the risk?”

“I follow the rules Mark.” Jamie turned, her hazels eyes looked straight back at Mark. “You now air supply is an issue here. It’s all recycled remember?”

“Yeah well, you’ll be breathing my air right honey?” Mark laughed. “Besides, we have a rather large air supply, fueled by plants and other organisms that photosynthesize. And we filter CO2 through those areas. We’re fine.”

“First of all, stop calling me honey. I’m not your wife.” Jamie glared again. “And second, could you please just shut up for a moment so I could just finish the astro-report?”

“Sure dear.” Mark snickered to himself. “And I thought you were doing the form for that symbologist that wants to look at the runes on Zion II. Apparently you were working on that for a while.”

“I just sent it in.” Jamie shrugged, taking a look at her view screen. “I’m cataloguing another asteroid sighting. That’s all. But I do have to file out the report.”

“Another?” Mark smiled, shaking his head. “I hope you haven’t noticed honey, but there haven’t been any asteroid sightings anywhere near Zion II for the last few decades. So, I’ve just got to say this is the first one you got dear.”

Jamie murmured something incoherent before returning to work. “Leave me alone. I have to finish this.”

“Ah…so the machine does get annoyed.” Mark turned his back to the young lady and took a look at his holoscreen. Sure enough, there was a high velocity asteroid, with a particular anomaly to it. “Me thinks she likes it. What do you think?”

“I think you should shut up and let me finish my report.” Jamie murmured. “For Christ’s sake, you want me to finish don’t you?”

“Oh sure, oh sure.” Mark held up his hands. “Of course, I could always help you on your report you know. I mean, I’ve written many reports in my day.”

“Oh sure, oh sure.” Jamie mocked, waving her hands in the air. “As if you’d be any help at all.”

“Of course I could be!” This time, Mark stepped out from his chair and took a look at Jamie’s computer. “I mean, I’m an expert. You just have to compare reports to something you can understand. For example, maybe you could compare it to how bitchy you are.”

“And how should I compare it then, oh wise sage?” Jamie growled, before continuing to type up the report. “It’s not that hard to do one you know?”

“Yeah well, here’s a little help.” Mark giggled to himself, causing Jamie to roll her eyes. “Reports. They’re…just like sex.”

Jamie turned, her eyebrows raised. She folded her arms and waited for an answer.

“Well,” Mark stuttered. “The process at least. You start at the head. Then you move down to your body, and it’s obvious the more bodies the better your reports going to be.”

The young lieutenant hinted a smile at her cheek, her legs crossed as she already knew what was coming up next.

“Then, you hit your climax.” Mark put a finger to his chin, smiling to himself. “And then you hit the conclusion, and you’re finished for the day. But then, you’re always wanting to get better. So the next day, you come back to edit what you’ve started.”

“Apparently you know a lot about the subject.” Jamie laughed and turned around. No matter how perverted, Mark had somehow always made her laugh. “That’s…that’s something. I’ll have to file that in the report. Congrats Mark. You did something right for once.”

“Yeah.” Mark put his hands at his waist. “I think I did didn’t I?”

But just as Mark finished, his holoscreen blared, and the signal PROXIMITY WARNING blared at the heading. Mark turned suddenly, and his face turned from the comical look to the outlook of a real soldier. His eyebrows creased as his stern look pierced the holoscreen, as a small video feed came into view. The video screen showed blackness, and the green fields and brown industrialized areas of Zion II. The red lights in the control began to flash, and Jamie noticed it as well.

“Park!” Mark roared. “Get me the Optics Probe and launch it now! I want all UNSC ships out of this station, and I want them out our of here.”

“Doing it.” Jamie quickly tapped buttons before, hitting the loudspeaker button to her right side. “All UNSC personnel, return to your ships. Strap in and leave the station. This is a direct order. I repeat, all UNSC personnel, return to your ships and leave the Archimedes. If not, we’ll release you automatically. This is not a drill.”

Mark’s holoscreen was then cut into two, and the video feed from the Fiber Optics Probe was placed in the first screen. In both feeds however, every which way they turned, there was no sign of any immediate hit whatsoever. The only prominent guess would have been the rock that had somehow entered Slipspace that was large enough to be seen by the Probe. At first, Mark had guessed it had been the asteroid that Jamie had just catalogued. He had thought there had been a strange anomaly to it. Mark almost turned to it aside, before consulting Jamie about it.

“Lieutenant!” Mark barked. “Get me that asteroid report!”

“Yes sir.”

As the report came up in a third holoscreen, Mark finally noticed what was wrong about it. It had somehow entered Slipspace, which meant it had to have been hit with enormous force to propel it that fast. And the problem was that it was twice as large as normal asteroid sightings. There was also one other problem. The rock had followed every bit of Newton’s Law except one.

Newton’s Law demands that no object decrease velocity unless acted on by a certain force. In contrast, the rock’s velocity over the last few minutes had dropped significantly, with no sign it was being acted on by any force. Space had no air, no gravity, and only held a small amount of particles in it, too little to actually consider them as force. And yet, the rock continued to slow, and at considerable lengths. So, there was only one clear logical explanation to explain this.

This thing was definitely not a rock.

“Jamie,” Mark yelled. “Keep our Fiber Optics Probe on that asteroid. Initiative the emergency lifeboats, and I want all UNSC ships in the area to get away from that thing. We have no idea what it is. I also want a diagnostic. Run infrared signals across the object using the Probe.”

“Wasn’t it an asteroid?” Jamie cocked an eyebrow. “Sir?”

“You should’ve paid more attention in AP Physics Park.” Mark muttered. “Keep the probe on it. Boost the Archimedes’s engines to two hundred percent and siphon power away from the radiation cannon. I want full speed on the Archimedes. I want to be as far away as that thing as possible.”

“What if it’s harmless?” Jamie asked. “If this isn’t an asteroid, then what if it’s UNSC? It can’t just be an alien species. That’s unrealistic.

“I learned my basics Jamie.” Mark replied calmly. “UNSC ships aren’t distorted by Slipspace because it’s not big enough to show. Also, if this were some sort of UNSC class vessel that somehow was big enough to be distorted by the confounds of Slipspace, then we would identify it, because we could scan for the energy output of a UNSC class vessel of the size using infrared.”

The young lieutenant still didn’t get the picture. “What’s the use of infrared if it’s in Slipspace?”

“Because Slipspace isn’t hyperspace. It’s just an entanglement of our own space, with eleven dimensions instead of four. Usually Slipspace opens up micro-black holes and evaporates them in a nanosecond. But when mass is big enough, you get what we see here, due to compression of the object. Because it’s so big, Slipspace can’t compress it enough to make it invisible.” Mark explained. “The only problem is that we don’t know enough quantum gravitational effects to actually understand this distortion. That’s why we can figure out what this thing is with our Probe’s infrared radar.”

“Infrared tracks heat.” Mark continued. “The Titanium A armor on the hull of all UNSC class ships have a high heat tolerance, because our reactors are usually hot most of the time due to long term use. Because we don’t want meltdown of armor when our reactor goes hot, we implement Titanium A armor. If it’s UNSC, then we’ll know. There’s a specific ratio of heat spread over regular UNSC ships because Titanium Armor neatly spreads heat over a distance.”

Here is Chapter 1: Part 2

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“Scanning with the probe.” Jamie muttered, as the whine of the Fiber Optics Probe rose in volume. Mark’s holoscreen split again, and in just a few seconds, the holoscreen showed the infrared signs, and it took Mark only a half second before knowing the thermology was almost nothing like any other object he had ever seen in the past. “Apparently, you’re right. This doesn’t like any design I’ve seen in the past few years.”

Mark gaped at the image. The sleek solid had a thermal level higher than even the biggest UNSC ships didn’t have. It’s nose had thermal levels over the roof, and the middle of the object held a large heated source that the young man could only guess was the reactor. There was something oddly familiar about it, and Mark couldn’t place it clearly in his mind. But he definitely knew that this was something that he had definitely seen before.

There was also another problem. Blue zones, where the heat was almost nonexistent, was almost everywhere across the surface. There was no wide spread of heat over the surface of the ship. Because of the fact that Titanium A inducted heat easily, there was usually a well spread sheet of heat over the surface of UNSC ships. So this was either a flaming meteor losing mass and losing velocity, or this was an alien spacecraft. There was absolutely no other way to explain it.

“What is it sir?” Jamie asked.

“Track the velocity on that thing.” Mark roared. “I want UNSC ships on standby. Power up the auxiliary cannon on this and give me some spin on this piece of junk.”

Jamie stopped on the order. This was definitely not Mark. However, it was possibly because Jamie almost had no former knowledge of who Mark Bradley was, except him acting like the comical character that he was all the time. This was a side that Jamie had never could have possibly imagined.

“Tracking.” Jamie replied nervously, as she tapped the fingers. She looked and saw Mark crossing his hands behind his back and looking out the window, as if watching the stars. “Unknown object losing velocity. We track its speed at around 15,759,360 miles per second. Distance is…five hundred million miles from this distance. The target will reach this destination in 31.7 seconds at current speed. We have less than a thirty seconds sir. That speed is definitely alien. We calculate that it gets around 912 Light-years per day with that speed.”

Mark froze. Traveling in Slipspace with that speed was unprecedented. No one could operate that fast and use Slipspace generators like that. UNSC ships were able to barely squeeze themselves through the micro black holes just in time before Hawking radiation evaporated them. Nothing could drive something that huge and at such high speeds with Human Technology.

“Wait a second.” Jamie froze in her seat, and Mark raised an eyebrow. “Craft is decelerating. Optics Probe is sensing unknown infrared source from the aft section of the craft, preferably the engines. Heat dropping substantially. It’s either losing power, or it’s getting ready to get out of Slipspace.”

She was right. The area the reactor had been was in the dark red areas. In the next three seconds, the reactor had turned blue, as well the flashing dark red lights in the back of the craft.

“It’s blueshifting.” Jamie hollered. “Wavelength is decreasing. Gravitational spectrum is off the charts Mark! We have Slipspace ruptures just outside our fire radius. What the hell is going on?”

Mark didn’t talk. Instead, he hung onto the railing and watched as blue light assimilated itself out of nowhere. A flash of light and a spiraling vortex, encompassed in a flashing aura of blue hue sprung from the blackness of space and unveiled what was behind it. The micro black hole opened, and as it did, Mark was the first to see it already slowly evaporating. But it wasn’t the quickly evaporating singularity that astounded him. It was what exited the singularity.

A large alien spacecraft came into view, as the Fiber Optics Probe continued to read the infrared scans. The engines had now returned to a dim orange state, and the reactors was already reheating. The front aft of the ship was still in the red zone, indicating it was rather high in temperature. The ship was definitely alien design. It was colored with a grayish hue, with two bulbous sections protruding from the middle bulbous region of the ship. The sleek aircraft seemed to glide around normal space easily. In the front were two tubes, indicating a firing mechanism that was behind the design.

“What is that?” Jamie’s eyes were wide as she stood from her seat. “That thing is bigger than anything we’ve got right now. What’ve we got Mark?”

Mark remained silent as he watched the middle section of the bulbous aircraft. It was outlined with a purple hue, and with a rather large upside dome, which caved into the ship. The grayish material that encompassed the ship outlined the middle circular region. In a second, Mark saw the infrared meter read that the section had overcame the reactor section of the ship. The next second, a sphere of pure energy began to assimilate in the same section where the reactor had been feeding energy. A weapon.

“That thing’s hostile,” Mark assumed. “Give me the Com Link, I want a communications line with all UNSC ships in the vicinity.”

“What?” Jamie asked, surprised. “We don’t even know what it is! It could be trying to negotiate something.”

“Look at it Lieutenant!” Mark growled. “That thing has turrets in the front, and from the thermology meter, it’s pulsating out of control. That middle section darker than the others? That’s heated up as well. I’m also detecting a large sum of beta radiation near here those turrets, meaning that they’re getting ready to do something.”

“The reactor is feeding power to the middle section of the ship,” Mark continued, pointing it out on the Probe’s sensors. “Right now, it already reads 100 Watts. 10 Watts is enough to solder with young lady, and that thing is still charging. If I would bet anything, I’d say that’s some sort of laser, since it’s already gathering up a source of energy. See the sphere of energy there?”

Jamie was silent for a moment, but the nodded, tapping a few keys. “You’re live. We have three UNSC ships in the area. Two UNSC Halcyon class Frigates and a colony ship that just exited Slipspace.”

“Get that colony ship down to the planet.” Mark ordered. “If anything, begin to set up a ground link with our marines on the ground. They need to know about this.”

“Alright.” Jamie nodded. “Com Link with the Fleet is established. You may begin speaking whenever you’re ready.”

Mark tapped the button immediately. “Attention all UNSC ships, respond. There is an alien space craft of hostile origin at Rally Point Gamma.”

The Holoscreen turned blank now, and then split into two parts once more. The one on the left portrayed the Fiber Optics Probe. The one on the right showed the two Captains of each UNSC vessel. “Archimedes we hear you loud and clear. I’m Captain Sullivan. And now that we’ve got that out of the way, what the hell is that thing?”

“Unknown, and unidentified.” Mark replied. “But all we know it is hostile.”

“And what are you going to do?” the same man known as Sullivan continued. “Order us? I’ll have you know that I’m a Captain. You apparently, have the rank of Lieutenant. I don’t think any of us here are in the mood for fighting a complex highly advanced species here.”

“Well, last time I recalled.” Mark grinned, pulling up a database file. “You weren’t a fleet officer at all. You’re superior officer on your ship was sick, and you’re taking his place. And apparently, you have the rank of Captain.”

“Yeah so?” Sullivan almost laughed. “It’s the exact same thing. I’m still a higher rank than you.”

“I wasn’t finished.” Mark growled, and the man stopped laughing to listen to what Mark had to say. “You’re a Captain alright. But you’re a Captain for the Air Force, and I’m a lieutenant of the Navy. And according to military ranks, that makes us even.”

“That’s political bullshit son!” the captain frowned and crossed his arms. “You can’t expect to think to pull rank on me. Besides, Air Force and Navy are combined aren’t they?”

“First. Yes, I’m pulling rank on you. Second, the Air Force consists of forces that use “air”. And because you obviously don’t use Air in space, I’m afraid it’s different. Plus,” Mark frowned and then continued. “I have authentication as well. Maybe this’ll convince you.” Mark fished around his coat pocket, and revealed a small tag that read two simple to read words.

The man read the two simple Latin words and frowned. “Of course. It figures. No wonder you’re so cocky. Know all the rules eh? I guess it’s your job.” Sullivan muttered. “What do you want then sir?”

“Concentrate fire on the…” Mark began, before turning towards the alien craft and screamed. “Watch out!”

The ship had tilted itself on the side and the belly was now aligned with the UNSC ship Omniscience. The sphere of energy that Mark had seen had grown, and in a nanosecond, the sphere was thrust forward in a beam of light. It was instantaneous as the purple hued energy hit the hull of the Omniscience, and ripped the ship from head to stern. Meters of Titanium A was incinerated, and Mark saw that the reactor complex inside the ship exploded, and sent a catastrophic chain reaction as the Omniscience was lost in a flash of brilliant light.

Captain Sullivan’s view screens went blank.

Mark gaped at the ferocity of the attack. No Human weapon had ever operated in that matter. This high advanced species no longer used projectile weaponry, but instead aligned themselves and used energy to project a precise weapon and fire it at abnormal speeds with extreme accuracy. The small beam that had obliterated the Omniscience was probably just a small display of their power and ferocity. Who knows what might be underneath the mass amounts of armor that guarded the alien spacecraft.

The last remnants of the Omniscience were now bits and pieces of metal, floating around as rubble as the alien space craft continued to accelerate. The sleek look chilled Lieutenant Bradley to the core as the other UNSC ship turned to meet the new enemy.

“We need firepower and we need it now.” Mark muttered. “Jamie, I authenticate use of the Radiation Cannon. Give us rotary spin and use our docking engines to tilt us forty-five degrees. Give me minimal thrust only.”

“Aye!” Jamie nodded, and proceeded to tap her fingers over the controls. “Done sir. And what about the other UNSC ship?”

“Captain!” Mark nodded to the screen that had not been covered with static. “We’re going to take a shot of our Orbital Cannon. It maximizes a large sum of both Gamma Radiation and Electromagnetic Energy. Give us some time, and concentrate your fire on that ship.”

The man nodded, his eyes obviously showing fear, and began to shout. “Ok, roll in Bravo Squad, attempting close fire mission on unknown targets with nuclear arsenal. Tactical nukes are loaded and ready. Release the safeties off the Archer Missile Pods and charge up the MAC gun. We’ll see if this sucker’s really got anything to show us.”

The Ship, identified as The Samaritan, fired, three hundred Archer Missile racing towards their target. Next, the hanger bay opened, and a small squadron of Longsword fighters exited the bay, propelling themselves toward the target.

“Radiation Cannon is at 43% full capacity sir!” Jamie hollered. “Reactor complex is not enough to stabilize at 100%.”

“Turn on the auxiliary generators and have them power the cannon.” Mark ordered, before turning his head back to the alien ship.

All three hundred pods raced toward the ship, and the Fiber Optics Probe continued to watch, as the missiles came closer, and closer. Just a few more miles to go, and this ship got what it deserved. Three hundred missiles smacked straight into the nose, and then have a MAC round tear through the gut of the ship.

Mark waited an eternity, before the missiles exploded, all three hundred of them, as they collided. But they didn’t hit the ship. A blue aura of energy appeared, just hundreds of meters away from the unknown ship, making a protective shielding over the craft. As each missile exploded on the shield, Mark hoped that maybe one might get through, so that there might be some damage. No luck. Each missile streaked into the blue protective shield, and was no effect.

“Plasma shields?” the captain of The Samaritan shook his head in terror. “No ships could’ve manipulated that!”

Here is the last part to Chapter 1. God I hate splitting things into parts.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Not any ships that we know of.” Mark’s face turned grim as he turned to Jamie, his eyes full of doubt. Jamie then understood. They weren’t supposed to win this fight. “What’s the status of the cannon?”

“79%” Jamie hollered, and watched the bar rise. “Auxiliary reactors are hot! Coolant pumps are failing. Sir?”

“Power down any unnecessary facilities, and use it to power the cannon!” Mark barked. “Captain, you gotta do something, and you gotta do it now!”

“Fire the MAC round boys.” The man ordered, his body visibly shaking and quivering in fear. “Let’s give these alien bastards something they won’t forget.”

A Tungsten round ejected from The Samaritan, and at peak velocities, slammed into the shields again. “Arm the nuke, and fire it Bravo Squad!”

The MAC round hit the shielding, and the blue aura faded enough so that it was visible to Mark’s naked eye. The force of the blow however, sent the alien ship flying backwards with the power of force that the MAC round had used. It was impossible. There was no way any ship could’ve survived the pure velocity and force that a MAC round could muster. If anything, the pure force should’ve shattered the shield and cracked the ship into two clean pieces.

“100%! All reactors are failing. The lack of power to the cannon is killing the generators!” Jamie screamed. “Sir!?”

“Fire!” Mark roared. “Reroute power and turn the cannon off!”

Anything in the distance would’ve seen the Radiation Cannon spew a teal flare into the air. Longswords in the distance began to close in on the alien craft, and fired their weaponry as well. Missiles collided with the now weak shielding, but still did relatively no damage. Then, one of the Longswords fired a tactical nuclear weapon, and sent the missile streaking towards its target. Bravo Squad veered away as they returned to The Samaritan’s hanger, and waited for their nuclear weapon to take hold.

The teal flare in the distance held pure radiation energy as the weapon and the tactical nuke collided over the alien craft at the same time. Teal energy washed over the ship, as the nuke enveloped the alien ship in white light as the explosion mushroomed and sent an electromagnetic pulse that coupled with the radiation cannon’s teal flare and sent the pulse washing over the blue shields.

“We got him!” The captain nodded, putting on a small grim smile.

“No.” Mark shook his head and watched the display. “Wait.”

The white light faded, as well the teal energy, only to show the blue shields as they flickered and died. The warship in the distance remained intact however, and now turned its attention to The Samaritan. The Fiber Optic Probe squealed, and as Mark rechecked his infrared scale, he understood why. The ship turned away from the disk known as the Archimedes as the infrared scale went over the bar as it continued to soar.

“Those turrets have generated a lot of heat!” Mark barked. “Captain, get you and The Samaritan out of here!”

But as the order just reached the crew of The Samaritan, the alien ship fired once more. This time, not with the pulse laser, but with a duo of flares, which burned in the dark sky. The Samaritan changed course as well, but with the engines powered down, the ship had no chance of escaping the unknown weapon. Mark already shook his head, knowing the fate of The Samaritan, and watching the ship that was condemned to die.

This time however, instead of shredding through metal, the dark blue flares knocked itself into The Samaritan, and burned the edged layers of the ship away. The centimeters of Titanium A armor, known to withstand large amounts of heat, boiled away in the presence of this weapon. The second blue flare hit, and The Samaritan, burned, ventilating as it tried to regain itself. Just as it did, the alien ship fired again, and unleashed another laser that split The Samaritan into two pieces.

The UNSC ship burned, and Mark watched as it sailed off, the Holoscreen now washed away in static as contact with The Samaritan was lost. Mark put his hands at his side, his eyes closed for the last few hundred men and women that had just died in just under three minutes.

“Sir,” Jamie muttered. “Those blasts were pure plasma. These aliens somehow generated plasma weaponry with some sort of EMP side effect. Temperature is definitely over the infrared scale that we got on the Fiber Optics Probe.”

“What other conventional weapons does the station own besides the cannon?” Mark growled. “See if we can still put a fight. If their shields are down, then we might still have a small chance.”

“None, sir.” Jamie shook her head slowly, before turning to the view screen and stopped short. “Besides, the ship has moved away from us.”

“What?” Mark raised an eyebrow as he quickly watched the glass window and saw that Lieutenant Park was correct. The alienated craft now descended itself toward the surface of Zion II, the immense heat doing absolutely no damage to the alien craft. “You’re right…”

“Get me a Link with our marines on the ground.” Mark barked. “Tell them get ready for an invasion.”

“Wait a minute.” Jamie’s eyes widened. “Fiber Optics Probe is picking up something else.”

“What now?” Mark almost shouted before calming himself down.

“Sir, we have strange teardrop ships that just exited the ship’s hanger bay.” Jamie tapped the keys, and rotated the Probe. “They’re on an intercept course for us right now. If my instincts are right, then I’ll have to say that they’re getting ready to assault the station. They know our weapons have hurt them. I think they want to shut down communications.”

“Damn!” Mark bellowed, as he watched the teardrop fighters followed by a strange U-shaped craft.

This was too much to take in. In just under the last ten minutes, Jamie had catalogued an unknown asteroid traveling through Slipspace. Mark then identified an anomaly that it was slowing down at high levels. Then, out of nowhere, infrared and blueshifting charts went off the charts and an alien craft appeared. In the three minutes that followed, the Alien Craft, although bombarded by the best weapons the UNSC could offer, had destroyed two Frigates, who had well known records of success.

And the only damage that the Human Race could have done to the aliens was knock out their shields. But maybe that was all they needed. If an EMP wiped out their shields, it was possible they had fried the shield for good until further repair.

But that didn’t matter now. Unless Mark and Jamie could get out of this situation alive, then everything that they learned here would be useless. There was no way to contact any higher commands in the UNSC. There would be no way to warn the men and women of Zion II of the alien species that was now on their doorsteps. And most importantly, there was no way to let humanity know that there was a huge threat to the existence of the human race.

“Jamie.” Mark closed his eyes. “Power down the station. Give me full access to the armory. Heavy work.”

Jesus christ, hats off, i need to continue mine, mine started ok, but needs to go further

yours seems, right, i can never sit at a computer long enough to read this, i MUST print it

wow this is pretty long... well i believe like we did earlier... that u should make a thread for this story in the fan fic discussion... cause i hate having ff all over the place

True, so after u read this PoR, tell me, ill read it, PM u, then u can delete your posst so i can delete this 1, so u can delete the other one, so i can get my 1st 1

Prophet of Reality wrote:

wow this is pretty long... well i believe like we did earlier... that u should make a thread for this story in the fan fic discussion... cause i hate having ff all over the place

Dude, the fan fic discussion section is completely unnecessary.

Here is Chapter 2:

Chapter 2: Lighted Path


The Lighted Path broke free of the clouds hovering above it, and wiped away the fresh moistures that had come with it. Its engines dimmed as the docking thrusters came into view as they released themselves from their stationary positions. Two angular engines split from the sides of the small Colony vessel as they flashed on and off, as the craft slowly saw its final target. Harzai Airfield, where the Lighted Path was intended to land, was just a large strip of landing space just miles away from Cortez City, one of the many civilian cities across Zion II.

Walter A. Roswell oriented himself as the tight descent of gravity reached him once more. He looked out the window and blew a sigh of relief. He put away the novel in his lap and proceeded to grab the laptop inside his leather bag. He flipped it open, and heard the hum of the machine as it activated, the blue aura of the screen flashed before dimming into a tolerable color. He wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead and stuck a wad of gum into his mouth, a miniscule pain in his ears beginning to mount.

He took a look at his laptop screen and watched his recent document come to life, as he skimmed through a small section of his essay, naming it: Aztecs and The Scientific Forerunners.

The origination and the anomalies that the Aztecs have left behind remains to be unexplained even to this day. What we do know, we derive from pictographic images and the Aztec pre-Columbian writing that is marked over their symbols. Over time, Aztec algorithms have been founded, and the writing the Aztecs have left behind can finally be read. Although this abnormality does give us a substantial amount of information, it doesn’t explain many correlations that have been linked between the Aztecs, and surprisingly, other planets across the galaxy.

A good example would be the planet Zion II, which is famous for the ruins that resemble Aztec calligraphy found there. Scientists analyzing the Aztec ruins and placing the writings into algorithmic procedures found that there was indeed a correlation between the Aztec ruins on earth, and Aztec ruins on Zion II, meaning the calligraphy looked exactly alike. Thus, although the language has not been read yet, scientists now postulate that the Aztecs might have been in contact with extraterrestrial beings.

Although this conflicts with the Theory of Microevolution, this explanation is highly more plausible than the conventional ideal that Evolutionists have cooked up. These “scientists” have proposed that an asteroid hit the Aztec civilization and brushed particles into space, where they soon came into conflict with Zion II. However, this theory is inevitably false. The probability of such an event is highly unlikely, and I believe it is just another way to stop Creationists from believing in God, and keeping doubt from heading into the mind of evolutionists.

In short, it has only exacerbated the scientific community with lies and deceit.

In reality, I believe we need to start beginning to believe that there are forces out of our reach that we ourselves cannot explain. And through this simple fact, we must ameliorate the differences between Creationism and Evolution. The complications and faults within Evolution are only explained by Creationism, and the utter dominating theory that extraterrestrials visited the planet Earth many years ago explains how Evolution might have occurred.

In fact, could the very being of our existence NOT have been Evolution? Perhaps these extraterrestrials brought our species to this planet, and brought the animals and plants to our very dear Earth, to serve a purpose. Perhaps, the purpose to survive? We have seen our movies. A single woman brings a child to the river, or to a keeper, and pleas the Gods that her child will survive. Is that not what a dying race might try to act upon? Conceive the last few of their race before they themselves were blown from extinction?

Does that mean these extraterrestrials were the highly evolved humans that achieved a higher power?

Of course, this is a frightening theory. If these “humans” actually were alive, then what other sophisticated culture or destructive force killed them? And if they did give their race to Mother Earth to keep their race safe, then why did they pass down lower levels of Evolution? This contradicts possibly every single piece of data that suggests Microevolution, but it does give us a glimpse of the wonders that could encompass this mystery.

Walter wasn’t a scientist. He was a philosopher and a symbologist, a man who believed in the unexpected, and the thrillers of nature. He loved the adventure of it, and it was what made his job more interesting. He had ventured into the most unknown places to track down the history of the ancients, and now he stood at the brink of Human controlled space.

Space travel these days were rather expensive, and the recession that had gripped Earth made it even harder, as many countries had imported more than they exported, resulting in a trade deficit. Because other problems were surfacing, the dollar values of each individual country had begun to drop, leading to a devastated consumer confidence percentage, therefore plummeting each country into a state of recession. Each country had to now sell for more than they had to before.

But that didn’t bother Walter A. Roswell. The man wasn’t rich, but was rather frugal. Having saved up the money for years since a little child, Roswell had made sure that he’d be able to book the first flight to Zion II in the outer colonies. Ever since studying algorithms and symbology as a child, Michael had always found the mysterious Aztec ruins on Zion II intriguing and vowed to one day venture to Zion II and study them. It had taken a long time, but he’d done it.

He had left the glories of Earth behind, and came with nothing, abandoning a settled life with which he could have continued his line. But it didn’t happen, and Walter A. Roswell was introduced to the green aura of Zion II. He felt no shame in leaving Earth. Sure there were a few opportunities that he could’ve alternated to, but this was the best opportunity that he could’ve decided for himself. His life’s dream was now just a few miles away. From here, it was just a matter of decoding and reading.

“Hey Walter!” the pilot in the front yelled. “We’re almost there, so fasten your seatbelts and let me get this show on the road!”

“Sure thing.” Walter nodded and looked at his essay one more time.

It had been published in the Terraformer magazine. Although it wasn’t supposed to have been published in that field, Walter enjoyed the fact that he had somehow made it into the magazine. Terraformer was a high profit organization and only accepted essays from the elite scientists around the galaxy. Apparently, someone who had the right mind to stand up to evolutionists had somehow convinced the men of the magazine that Walter A. Roswell had a talent for standing up.

“So,” the pilot chuckled in his seat. “I was reading your latest article. The one about the Aztecs you know?”

Walter rolled his eyes. Of course he had read it. Almost everyone across the Orion Arm read Terraformer. It was perhaps the most popular magazine yet, covering every single inch of information that anyone would need to survive. It gave instant updates on new worlds, new discoveries, and new developments in science and military technology. But most of all, it continued to analyze the universe, searching for any signs of intelligent life.

“And you want to talk to me about it why?” Walter waved his hands. “It’s not the most popular essay you know? I got in the magazine by chance.”

“Well it made the front cover!” The pilot waved a magazine over his head as he tossed it over to the symbologist. On it, was his article, and the ancient symbols of the Aztecs. “You don’t get on Terraformer’s front page for nothing you know?”

“Ok, fine you got me.” Walter shrugged as he placed the magazine in his bag. “But why would you want to talk to me about it? This was three weeks ago. Personally I ironically enjoyed the discovery of oil producing microbes on Sigma Octanus. Oil isn’t a problem anymore with those microbes around.”

“Yeah, but since you’re here, I guess I might as well say this.” The pilot shrugged. “Why in all places, would you like to go to Zion II? It’s not the greatest place to go, and it’s practically the biggest military outpost in the Outer Colonies. Besides Reach that is.”

“Well,” Walter shook his head. “Don’t you know about the Aztec ruins on the planet?”

“Sure I do.” The pilot smiled. “I know everything about Zion II. And I read your article too, so that proves that I should know. But just because there’s a few ruins? Let me tell you. There’s nothing much to learn. They just have this dumb prophetic vision of doom or something!”

“That doom might actually help us!” Walter pointed out. “Besides, it’s best to try to know as much as you possibly can. That’s the best way to learn. I still have a few more years in my day.” Walter smiled. He was still only twenty-seven, and a brilliant man in his days.

“Yeah right!” the pilot waved Walter off. “What do we need to know from the ancient guys, if they’re dead? They don’t see the future right?”

“They don’t correct.” Walter agreed. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t know anything. Didn’t we invent based on what was in the past? The British invented muskets, using Chinese gunpowder. We invented cars from the design of the steamboat, and the wheel, and finally, oil. We invented phones and other electronics through electricity. And all these things that were invented were based off common knowledge that were discovered in the past.”

“Yeah so?” The pilot still didn’t understand.

“What I’m saying, is that humans find a way to make obsolete things, useful.” Walter shrugged. “How valuable do you think diamonds are?”

“Pretty damn expensive if you ask me.” The pilot shrugged. “So?”

“Back centuries ago, the diamond was cheap. Very cheap, not even considered expensive, and was sold for very little.” Walter explained. “Then, a small British company came and bought a large sum of diamonds, and marketed diamonds as something as glamorous and beautiful.”

“And?” the pilot replied sarcastically.

“The buyers bought.” Walter finished. “The diamond, once a cheap item, is what it is today. An expensive jewel, all because of a British marketing scheme.”

“I meant your point.” The pilot replied.

“My point is that I’m here, because the Aztecs might have something to say with those ruins. Other people might have read them already, but there’s still one more that’s going to read.” Walter grumbled.

“Yeah well, I’m going to land.” The pilot looked at his watch. “Thanks for wasting five minutes of my life though.”

Walter rolled his eyes in amusement. This pilot really was something.

“This is flight engine Lighted Path on incoming vector with Harzai Air Field, requesting vectors.” The pilot up front began to call. “I repeat, this is the flight engine Lighted Path requesting permission to land on Harzai Air Field.”

“Lighted Path we got it the first time,” A calm voice called over the other side of the radio. “Permission granted. Proceed to Airway 4. Field strip is marked by lights.”

“Roger that.” The pilot finished. “Lighted Path is now on descending route. All ships be advised, Lighted Path is on descending route. Clear all intersecting vectors, as Lighted Path is carrying civilian with precious cargo. All passengers buckle up the seatbelts and hold on.”

Walter fastened his belt, and grabbed the laptop from his lap and slipped it back into the leather bag and tightened that the seat in front of him. The pilot in front was rather more of a jokester. Passengers? Walter A. Roswell wasn’t told that there would be anyone else onboard. And precious cargo? If that was referring to Walter, then he didn’t know what the pilot had been drinking the night before.

“Passenger with precious cargo?” Walter chuckled. “What’s the precious cargo?”

The pilot turned around and took a look at the man. “Your head.”

Walter stayed silent for a moment.

“That was meant to offend you.” The pilot turned his back, and put his headsets back on. “Be advised, Lighted Path does not have landing gear. Expect rough landing with scratch marks over your ass. Lighted Path is coming in. Over and out.”

Harzai Airfield imminently became visible. The field was settled onto an enormous plateau and had runaways streaking up and down. In dock were seven of the regular class civilian transport ships, which were currently settling themselves near the runways. Next to the dozen runways, were hangers, lined up against each other, each of them able to fit a ship as large as Lighted Path.

The colony ship eased itself over runway number 4. The stabilizing gear kicked in, and the bottom side of the Lighted Path slowly dropped onto the metal plates. There was a minor screech as the Lighted Path continued to have a forward momentum. But not for long as the colony ship finally eased to a halt, and the pilot in front took off his headsets and watched his view screen.

The pilot turned towards the management screen and clicked the diagnostic, and surveyed any damage that might’ve been caused by his landing. The ship had taken no damage, which was good. The only reason why the pilot didn’t deploy the landing gear was because the landing gear had been damaged during a Slipspace transition, which was a reason for his scratchy entrance.

Damn Shaw Fuji-Kawa tech. The pilot thought. It’s going to kill me someday.

“Ship’s docked Walter.” The pilot scratched his head. “I’ll deploy the gear so you can get off. I’ll be here until 1200-tomorrow morning. If you need a trip home, I’ll be glad to do it. But I do need some time to refuel, and get some rest. This pilot thing is making me crazy. I gotta go get myself some beer and get laid. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling on now. You can get off Walter. I’ll deploy the Warthog when you’re off.”

Chapter 2: Part 2


“Alright.” Walter grabbed his leather bag and untied it from the seat in front of him, uncomfortable with the pilot’s attitude. He waved and nodded towards the pilot. “Thanks for everything.”

A hiss resonated from the craft, and a small layer of the colony ship was flung open, and Walter stepped into the blinding light, his pupil struggling to shrink in order to compensate for the bright atmosphere. Besides him, a sheet of metal slowly retracted itself, and the Lighted Path’s hanger revealed a the usual civilian class Warthog, the usual machine gun stationed on the back, replaced with two back seats. Walter reached the end of the stairs, and nodded at the pilot behind him.

Harzai Airfield was just another civilian airfield that had been constructed near Cortez City, which was the third most populated city in the region. Harzai was built on a small plateau that spiraled downwards as the road continued to Cortez City, and supported anything from small transports to huge Colony ships. Although it wasn’t meant for it, Harzai Airfield could also temporarily serve as a Military Airfield, although the advantages would be quite bleak.

A plateau served as a much better target for enemy aircraft, and AA guns would have a hard time tracking an enemy at a short range, as they’d need to aim almost precisely to lead the target. An enemy, with enough surprise could efficiently wipe out the base in just under two minutes, if attacked in numbers.

Walter took a few moments to orient himself with gravity again and hopped once or twice to make sure that he could walk properly. He took a few steps and stopped, and took a few more again before finally confidently walking towards the Warthog in front of him.

“Hey!” The pilot hollered. Walter turned to see the pilot running towards him, tossing a pair of keys towards the symbologist. “Don’t you need a key?”

“I can hotwire cars well enough.” Walter grinned as he snatched the keys in his hands. “But sure, I wouldn’t mind. What’s the second key for?”

“It gets you into the Jasmine Hotel.” The pilot almost laughed. “Lot of…desires you might say.”

Walter frowned. Celibacy was one thing on his list. “I’m sure I won’t need it.”

“Ah, it’s a gift. Usually they say that the man’s first time on Zion II is his last.” The pilot chuckled. “Might as well get used to the environment here.”

“I will, thanks.” Walter nodded, taking the advise.

“Also, stay clear of the Mafia around here.” The pilot then turned serious and frowned. “If you don’t know, Cortez City is run mostly by a government that doesn’t do shit. If I were you, I’d watch out for the big boss around here.”

“Who?” Walter asked, suddenly interested. “Big boss?”

“Yeah.” The pilot nodded. “I’m just giving you some clear advise. I’ve seen dead men all over that place. Sure it’s heavily populated. But it’s got no law enforcement force. I can’t really give you all the details, because frankly, I don’t know them. Just make sure you remember the name Victoria Hitman.”

“Profession?” Walter cocked his head, the name swirling in his mind. That name seemed a little familiar.

“Rhetorical.” Pilot finished. “I’ve got to go. Apparently I have to file some papers for Harzai. They’re getting paranoid over a few things. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“If I’m not dead.” Walter shrugged, and gave a grin.

The pilot gave none. “Seriously. Once you get in that city, you’ll want to be.”

Walter gave the pilot a sudden glare. Negative attitudes were ones that Walter couldn’t stand. “Who are you?”

The pilot bowed. “Vladimir Thorne. At your service.”

--

wait, how many chapters u got!? oh and an idea, name your chapters =D

I have only 3 at the moment. Prologue, Chapter 1, and 2. They're just split up into groups because they're long. And I DID name them...

he's right he did name them. i wish i had the time to read this.

lies <_< im always right! he named them now ord, u just didnt see

<_<

>_>

V_V

^_^

L_L

O_O