Halo

AN: What's this? The plot picks up? (More or less, in reality, things just become more convoluted) Politics and intrigue and secrets, oh my! Amazing.More characters join the fray, but keep in mind: not everything is as it seems.

Once again, thanks for the feedback. Muchly appreciated, it be. As always, criticism is the highest praise.

-

Naidina proved a gracious host in that she escorted them personally to the door of her less-than-humble abode. It seemed much larger when one was standing outside, admiring it for all its structural glory.

"This will be your guide," Naidina announced, interrupting Nel's reverie. "His name is Lucien--he knows this city very well." It had been not-so-subtly hinted that they would receive a tag-along no matter their opinion on the matter. At least they, unlike Cliff and Mirage, were being allowed to leave. If the price of that leaving was a chaperone--so be it.

The boy, for surely he was no older than eighteen, could be perhaps called beautiful--if aesthetics were taken into consideration. He had black hair and his eyes were a pale violet--a vivid sort of shade that didn't seem wholly natural. He smiled slightly at both Nel and Albel and shook their hands with equanimity. "Nice to meetcha."

Nel hesitated as his grip on her hand tightened somewhat. "Have I met you before?" she asked without thinking. The boy blinked.

"Maybe? I don't know...don't think so, at any rate." He regarded her quizzically and released her hand. It ached where he'd held it, and Nel had never been what anyone would class as delicate. "You're Nel Zelpher, right?"

She shifted from foot to foot and cast Albel a warning glance. He merely twitched an irritated frown at her and settled his hand on the hilt of his sword. "What good will he be?" he asked Naidina blandly. "If you're worried about us getting lost, rest assured, it won't happen." Although it might. Albel had proved on many occasion that his horrible sense of direction was rivaled only by his bad manners. Maybe he was just showing faith in her abilities? Heh, there was a thought.

Naidina forced a smile and set a hand on Albel's right arm. "He is a good boy," she began, withdrawing her hand at Albel's exasperated sigh. Nel could decipher the meaning easily--'Why do these idiots insist on touching me?' "And he will be useful, and can get you across any checkpoints that you might encounter. We are a suspicious society, Master Nox, and you are strangers amongst us. Please, do not be offended."

Albel 'Hnned' and stepped away from the woman, body language indicating that this conversation was Over and Done With and that he didn't want to be bothered. As though getting accustomed to the fit of his new clawed gauntlet, he flexed and un-flexed the joints. Naidina frowned ever-so-slightly, but at a strangely calibrated look from Lucien, she smoothed her features and turned to Nel with a smile.

"Good luck in finding...whatever it is that you are looking for, Mistress Zelpher. I wish you all the best." With those words, she bowed, gave one final covert glance to Lucien and left them standing near the ornamental portcullis of her mansion. Nel, looking back and forth between Albel and their new companion, gave a mental sigh and cleared her throat.

"Shall we?"

Lucien smiled and nodded, striking out towards the city veins that deigned label themselves roads. They were far too narrow for anything approaching practicality, but he didn't seem bothered.

Albel merely grunted and caught Nel's arm as she made as if to follow the black-haired boy. He lowered his voice to a rough whisper and she had to stand on her tip-toes to hear him. "I don't trust him," he growled.

Nel shrugged acquiescence. "Nor do I."

Albel's sharp gaze followed Lucien as he strode away as though he hadn't noticed their failure to follow him. "Stay alert," he told her darkly before releasing her arm and starting off after their guide. After a beat, she did as well.

This entire trip was shaping up to be far more than they had bargained for.

-

Sophia smiled gratefully at the man that had handed her a cup of warm broth, and as he stepped back, she cleared her throat to speak. "Thank you, Heitan," she murmured quietly. The man gave her an answering smile and resumed his seat. She'd met him a little over two months ago--shortly after Fayt had disappeared and she'd found herself alone, stranded on a planet with no credit to her name and knowing no one that could possibly come to her aid. Heitan had befriended her with his quiet ways and calm nature. He was a mute--and more than once she'd caught sight of the stump of his tongue, but he communicated with small chirruping noises that she was learning to decipher. And he was literate--anything important was passed to her on paper.

From what she could gather--Heitan was a member of an underground association that opposed the ruling government. He'd found her as she was being chased by the authorities and had sheltered her, but she had little information about him or his group. She'd almost thought, for a while, that she was their prisoner. It was not until they provided her with a communicator and had allowed her to contact Cliff while they hung in orbit that she realized the truth--they were trying to protect her. And now her friends were coming to rescue her.

Well...she smiled wryly. Maybe 'rescue' wasn't the right word. She was safe, for the time being--Heitan had already proved himself proficient at defending her. And she...she was learning how to look after herself. It scared her sometimes--but she wasn't a child any more. If there had ever been a moment in her life where she simply had to take charge--that time was now.

She sipped at the broth he'd given her. "Heitan?"

He tilted his head at her.

"How will I find my friends?"

He seemed to contemplate her question a moment before reaching for an ever-present pen and paper. He scribbled an answer and held it out for her observation. They'll find you.

She frowned. "But...how?"

He smiled and shook his head. Obviously, that implied that she should just watch and wait. She'd gotten into contact with Mirage, but that had been inconclusive. Mirage hadn't been able to say much beyond the fact that they were being politely detained.

Sophia felt helpless. "All right," she said firmly, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt. "Thank you, Heitan."

She swilled the contents of her cup around and stared into the murky amber liquid as though it could contain all the answers of their known universe. And then she smiled at herself. If anyone had those kind of answers, it would be Luther, and Luther was...

She didn't want to say dead, not really. She hadn't really liked him--after all, he was trying to destroy their universe, but neither did that mean that she had wanted him to die.The powers of her Connection gene had been expanding, before they'd defeated him, and when she touched him, she'd known more than she could have wanted to about the Owner of the Sphere Company.

She'd learned to control it better since then, and bare skin-on-skin contact rarely established such a connection now. But the memory of that touch had burned itself in her mind, refusing to release her focus.

Despite the warm humidity of her surroundings, she shivered. And inevitably, her thoughts turned to Fayt.

She missed him more than words could possibly say. Guiltily, she'd spent the days since his disappearance trying to make herself forget, but it was hard. She didn't want to admit to herself how worried she was about him--even the knowledge that he could take care of himself didn't help her sleep at night. Not to mention she had the sneaking suspicion that it was her fault he was gone in the first place.

Her grip on the mug tightened. She didn't want to think like that! Together, they'd identified the anomaly that Blair had discovered, but beyond that...

Oh, someone. Please, help me.

She paused and her lips turned downwards in a small frown. That wasn't how she should be thinking--not now, when there was so much at stake. I can take care of myself, she tried telling herself firmly. She almost believed it.

-

Nel almost didn't want to believe it. Lucien had led them to...a strip club.

It was not the sort of place she wanted to be--but he'd been rather insistent. "It's a bit of an information network," he'd explained after dropping the bomb on them. "We won't stay too long." He'd winked, smiled in a manner so familiar it was almost sinister and had dragged (metaphorically, of course. Nel doubted that he was strong enough to drag anyone anywhere against their will) them inside.

Albel looked murderous. Even so, that hadn't stopped him from attracting the attention of several of the establishment's girls. Every so often, one would send a covertly flirting glance in his direction, which would alternately cause him to redden and to take another exaggerated drink of whatever it was he was imbuing. They'd been relieved of their weapons at the door--unsurprising, but this time Albel had managed to get away with keeping his gauntlet. Nel didn't doubt that if it came to it, he'd use it.

Nel herself was blissfully free of any wandering glances. She may have been somewhat scantily clad, but Lucien had, prior to their entry of the club, given her his trench-coat, which was large enough to carry her well within the realm of decency. Hunkered down as she was in a booth seat, with Albel Nox sitting across from her, she considered herself safe. But if Albel drank much more, he might just up and pass out--which was not what she needed.

As though he sensed her distaste, he glared at her. It was one of those holier than thou, 'you're-only-alive-because-you-provide-me-with-some-amusement sort of looks. And then he surprised her by speaking.

"Calm down, maggot. It's apple juice."

She paused. And blinked. "Did I say anything?"

"No. But...just in case."

Nel sighed. "You know, Albel, just because you hate us doesn't mean--"

"I don't." He took a benign sip of his 'apple juice.'

"What?"

"Don't you listen to a word I say, fool? I don't hate you."

"...Really?"

"Yes. I merely find your company exasperating and distasteful. At the best of times."

"Albel--!"

"That," he said with an almost-not-quite smirk, "Was a joke."

She stared.

"Don't look so surprised," he muttered darkly. "I do know how to joke, fool."

"Could have fooled me," she retorted dryly. He resumed the glaring, and so she decided to change the subject. With a cough, she cleared her throat.

"What do you think is taking our guide?" she asked as she leaned back against the seat and tilted her head back. The atmosphere was blissfully smoke free--thankfully, as Nel had never had outstanding tolerance for carcinogenics.

"That maggot is likely taking his sweet time with whatever it is that was important enough to deviate from our mission."

Nel rolled her eyes. "You hold him, I hit him?"

Albel smiled at her--mockingly, but it was a step above the usual glare. "You hold him," he corrected her. "And I disembowel him."

"Ah," she said in a tone of enlightenment. As it were, Lucien chose that moment to return to them. His cheeks were flushed somewhat, but other than that there seemed to be little wrong with him. Albel stood immediately and grabbed him by the shirt-front with his good hand.

"You owe us an explanation."

"Um...now?" Lucien asked with innocence. "'Cause...it's probably not a good idea..."

"Albel--" Nel tried. Yes, she wasn't happy with the boy, but that was hardly reason enough to execute him publicly.

That, however, did little to appease the Glyphian. He pulled the shorter man closer. "Well?"

"Look, this isn't a safe place," Lucien said stalwartly. "I'll tell you everything later, just let me go, all right? You're gonna ruin my uniform." He squirmed as though to exemplify his point.

An impasse.

Albel dropped him, despite the fact that Nel hadn't quite realized that he'd held the black-haired man in the air. Together, they left the club. One of the girls made a pass at Albel and succeeded in capturing him for a few seconds. Nel did not envy her the look he gave her, although it was absolutely priceless when the girl removed something from the confines of her less-than-functional top (that seemed to be comprised of a series of strings more than anything) and pressed it into the palm of the hand that the swordsman had lifted to fend her off.

Albel's expression was unreadable, though his face was red. The girl smiled and darted away. Although he was trying to remain aloof, a mild tick at the corner of one eye gave him away. With an annoyed sigh, he turned to Nel. "Having fun, maggot?"

She ventured a grin. "Was it that obvious? You're quite the lady's man, Albel Nox."

"Bah." And with that, he shoved past her and Lucien both, collected his weaponry and left the club without so much as a backwards glance. With some disdain, she skinned out of the borrowed trench-coat and offered it to its rightful owner, who smiled slightly in response.

"We'll stop somewhere else after this--just a hotel," he added hastily at her darkening expression. "From there, we'll figure something out, eh?"

-

Albel knew that Nel had yet to tell their indolent companion their true purpose. What he didn't know, he couldn't turn against them, after all. Their plans, when they'd given them brief discussion, consisted of waiting until he was either out of earshot or unconscious (which Albel would be most happy to accomplish) to try and contact Sophia. As much as the vapid child irritated him, he grudgingly admitted that going to find her was the best route they could take in their present circumstances. And at least it got him away from the oaf.

Still. Albel did not--make that Did Not, capital letters, trust Lucien one iota. The man was both more and less than he seemed, and he knew too much while revealing too little. But he'd been the one to get them past the first checkpoint, and he'd been very meticulous about not allowing them to see the procedure.

Their 'discussion' had consisted of exactly three things. No concrete information, a lowering of any esteem that Albel might have bothered having for the man, and an urge to kick him repeatedly in the head until he was rendered unconscious.

Nel had escaped into their room's bathroom in what Albel assumed to be an attempt to contact Sophia. The running water was a sure sign--she was trying to smother any noise the communicator might make. When she emerged a time later, she looked more annoyed than not--her lips were pursed and her brows were drawn down in disconcertion. He take that to mean she'd had no luck.

He hadn't thought she would. But he supposed there was no true harm in trying.

"Nel," he said abruptly, startling the Aquarian woman into glancing upwards.

"Yes?"

"I've been considering preforming the Ascension of the Flame ceremony with Crosell."

She blinked in confusion. "But that'd be dangerous! We had a hard enough time defeating him, and there were more of us then, if you did it alone--"

He gave a slight jerk of his head, in Lucien's direction. The young man was looking back and forth between them as though he was trying to discern the true topic of what they were discussing. "That's why I'm going to do it, fool. If I know the danger I'm about to face, I'll be more alert. Don't you think?"

Something in her expression told him she'd gotten his message. Hmph. At least she was proving more astute than he could have hoped for. He was quite sure that had he been talking to Cliff, he would have had to get up and forcibly shove his point down the man's throat. She gave a slight nod, barely perceptible, and turned to Lucien.

"What time will we leave tomorrow?"

The boy shrugged absently. "Whenever. I'm not too strict, so it's pretty much up to you guys." He picked his bag up, dragged it onto his bed an rifled through it. "But the next checkpoint only allows a quota of about..." he came up with a small vial, which he popped open and drained in one well-practiced gesture. "--Three hundred people a day through them." His hands were shaking as he tossed the now-empty vial back in his bag, and when he smiled, it accentuated the ghastly pallor of his skin. "Exceptions can be made for military personnel, depending on their purposes."

Nel, watching him, frowned. "What was that?"

Lucien blinked and brushed his hair back from his eyes. "That what? Oh... The potion? I'm diabetic. Anyways. I want to avoid any hassle, so..." he paused. "Guys. You don't have to trust me, but why the hell are you here, anyways? Are you in league with Klaus?"

"No," Albel answered before Nel could speak. "And if you continue insinuating such things, I'll--"

"Have to set you straight." Nel interrupted with a disproving look to him. She was quite sure of what he'd been about to say, and if it didn't involve death, pain, or blood, she was willing to live out the rest of her life pretending she was a Lousyd.

"It's not that," the boy amended hastily. "It's just...there's a lot going on here now. Why would any outsiders not part of the Federation show up? I don't get it. Nobody does." He sighed. "I just don't want another war, is all. We've got enough problems on our home turf, y'know? Without any outside interference. There's terrorist groups running around everywhere, opposing the government--just last week they made an example of three guys about my age. Executed them and then aired it on an open broadcast frequency." He shuddered. "But. I'm babbling, huh? I do that when I'm tired."

Albel had just stopped listening. There was no point--he'd never understood ceaseless prattle. Woltar had always said that the value of speech was increased the less one spoke. He was wont to agree, which was most certainly a first for him. "Shut up, maggot." He said abruptly. Lucien fell silent, eyeing him warily.

"Sorry," he said after a moment.

Albel merely sneered at him in lieu of a response, reached over and flicked off the lights to their room. There were only two beds, and he'd already resigned himself to the couch closest to the doors. Nel had offered to take it, citing that she was shorter and less likely to be uncomfortable, but he'd brushed her off. Foolish woman.

"Good night?" Lucien asked questioningly into the darkness. Apparently the lights-out hadn't been an entirely efficient segue.

"Yes," Nel agreed readily. Her maternal side was showing, apparently.

"Bah."

"Good night to you too, Albel," Nel said dryly.

-

The next morning was uneventful up to one point. And then, the shit hit the proverbial fan. They were standing just outside the checkpoint into the Manedian Sector in the humid heat of midday, and the situation was not improving anyone's temperment in the slightest.

"But, sir, I'm Lucien Dakaren--I was sent by Lady Naidina to accompany these peo--" Lucien waved his passport around half-heartedly, as though it were the key to solving all the world's problems.

It did nothing to sway the tall, grizzled guard that blocked their path. "Your access has been revoked. How many times do you insist on making me repeat myself?"

"But..." Lucien couldn't seem to think up a reasonable comeback that didn't consist of that word. "Sir!"

"If you don't leave the checkpoint premises, you will be forcibly removed."

"What is this all about, worm?" Albel pushed past Lucien to glare at the guard, who seemed annoyingly unperturbed.

"You're his companion, yes?" The unflappable man gestured at Lucien, who still had that lost-and-kicked-puppy sort of look.

"Not by choice," Albel growled offhandedly. "We have business in this--" What had Lucien called them? "Sector. Let us through. Now."

"I'm sorry, sir. But once your access is revoked, it's impossible to--"

He was cut off. It was as though someone had just pressed pause on their world--everything, everywhere stopped. Nel and Albel aside, nothing was moving.

"What in the world?" Nel reached instinctively to her weapons and dropped into a fighter's crouch. "Albel?"

"Get down!" The words prompted an immediate response, despite the fact that neither of them had spoken it. It was a universal term--when one says 'get down', people react in kind.

"Who was that?" Nel hissed to him as they lay flat on the ground. Around them, no one stirred.

In the next instant, Albel knew why exactly the warning had been issued. A blast of heat swept over them, so intense that he actually felt it blister his exposed skin. He gritted his teeth against the pain and ignored Nel's sharp intake of breath.

"Hey, are you all right? Here-- Cure." The cooling effect that the spell always had washed over him, and Albel pushed himself into a crouching position, sword drawn and ready to alternately attack or defend.

"Fayt?" Nel asked incredulously.

"Huh? Not really. Luck, maybe. I was just passing by--I'm Catham." The somber boy tipped a hand in a bit of a salute. "You were almost killed in that explosion. You're just civilians, why are you in this sector?"

Now was hardly the time to look around, but he couldn't help himself. Just prior to this strange happenstance, they'd been in a relatively bland building of white-washed stone. It had come complete with weapons detectors and DNA gene-scanners, and it looked nothing like this. But Albel could identify better with what he saw now than what he had previously. This looked like a battlefield. There were scars in the very soil beneath their feet, and for a moment, he caught the smell of burnt flesh upon the wind. The sky itself was scorched, dark and ominous.

Their 'savior', however, was another story entirely. Because not only did he sound like their former companion, but he looked like him in every possible respect. Same height, same build, same damned hair--though the eyes were different. Fayt's had never expressed the depths of agony and sorrow that he saw when he looked at this boy.

"Who the hell are you?"

"...Catham. I told you. Did the concussion addle your brains? I asked what you were doing here."

"We aren't civilians," Nel said cautiously. "We're --Fayt, what's wrong with you?"

"Ma'am, I apologize, but you've both been fairly badly injured. Come with me, all right? I'll get you to safety."

There were many things in this world that Albel didn't like. Annoying people. Stupid people. Hell, people in general. But neither did he appreciate being patronized. "Shut up, you insipid maggot," he snarled. "Tell us what's going on!"

The boy hesitated. He could almost see the internal battle. "We're in the middle of a war," he said evenly. "I don't know how you got into this sector, but you'll both be killed if you don't come with me. It's my responsibility to look after civilians--you're making my life exceedingly difficult."

Nel, who had been looking around warily, shifted her grip on her short-swords. "Someone's coming."

Both Albel and the boy looked in the direction she indicated, and it elicited a beleaguered sigh from the latter. "They've found us. We're dead. Do either of you have any combat experience?"

If ever Albel had had a reason to scoff, this was it.

"Wait. Albel. Albel!" At Nel's urgent entreaty, he cast her an irritated glower. It didn't phase her in the slightest. "The runological force in this area is absolutely astounding. I couldn't see it before, but it's everywhere. This isn't right."

"Get ready!" the boy called unnecessarily. Albel was always ready to get in a fight--and this looked promising. Their opponents were of the intimidating sort, big and bulky. But Albel wasn't worried--speed had always been his advantage. The fight began in a clash of blades and a string of curses. 'Catham' was a clumsy fighter, the guns that he was using were obviously not his preferred weapon. Nel, sensing this, threw him one of her swords--the longer of the two, leaving her with only the small dagger.

"Use this!"

Catham stared at the small sword as if he'd never seen anything like it before in his life. And then something shifted. His stance changed and he grinned--the first sign of any positive emotion that he'd shown. "Hey, thanks," he chimed, almost cheerfully.

The fight was intense, but brief. They were, of course, paramount. Albel had taken a hit to his thigh, and it made walking a whole new hell, but the moment Nel noticed, she set about trying to fix him.

Afterwards, awkwardly, Catham held her sword out for her to take. She didn't. "How'd you know I use swords?" he asked in something approaching awe.

She glared at him. "Fayt, stop fooling around! This is serious! What's going on?"

The boy winced. "I'm sorry if I've upset you, ma'am, but I'm not who you think I am. Now, we have to get back before more enemies come. You two are pretty handy in a fight, but your style isn't like anything I've seen. You're not academy trained, are you?" His inflection made it less a question.

"Fayt--!"

"As I was saying, once your access is revoked, it's hell getting through the checkpoints. But everything's all clear now. Have a nice day, sir." The guard stopped and blinked at her. "Beg pardon?"

Nel was still crouched down beside Albel, who, upon examination, found his injury to be completely healed, as though it had never been. Nel's cure spell couldn't have closed the wound so seamlessly, and in such short time. However, at the guard's words, Nel looked up. "What?"

Lucien put a hand on her shoulder. "Nel? Hey, if we don't hurry through the checkpoint, they'll close it."

"But--" She looked to Albel, who shared her immediate confusion. He pushed her away and got to his feet.

"What the hell is going on?"

Lucien smiled cheerfully. "There was a problem with their computers, just a glitch. I've got my access back. ...Weren't you paying attention?"

"No," Nel said in quiet disbelief. "Apparently not."

-

Catham stared at the two strangers as they dissipated into thin air. And then he shook his head. Had he imagined it...? But no. One quick look at the double-bladed weapon in his hand confirmed that. It wasn't just his imagination, nor a hallucination, nor...anything that he could possibly put a name to.

"What in the hell?" he muttered, mostly to himself. As he was busy contemplating the level of potential insanity that this indicated, his radio crackled.

"Falcon here," he said automatically, hand moving to depress the button that would activate the radio properly.

"Hey," the voice was the quiet intonation of Darius, and he frowned slightly.

"Where are you?"

"About two clicks away from you. Hurry--we're surrounded and running out of ammunition. If you're not careful..."

"Roger. I'm on my way."

-