A light beeping had caused the marine to wake up. Rubbing her head against her forearm, she tiredly lifted it up and turned her wrist to face her. Her green eyes were just focused enough to see a yellow/green rectangle turn a solid yellow. Bringing her knees closer to her, she brushed aside shards of glass and pushed herself up to her knees. All she wanted to do was sleep, her energy seemed drained. Resting against the wall, she stared lazily down upon the glass scattered upon the blue tile beneath her.
The image she saw staring back at her was of someone she did not recognize. The girl had dark brown hair, green eyes, and tan skin. All of this Shana knew was her own features, but the mirror showed her aged and with a scar at the corner of her mouth. The marine couldn't recall having a scar there. Lifting a hand to her own head, Shana traced the scar upon her face. A flash image of the butt of a rifle splashed across her mind and she immediately released her hand to fall back down to the floor. The memory made little sense to her and she only became more confused.
The longer she sat there, the more she began to wonder where she was. Shana was too tired to get up and look around. Everything around her was unfamilar, and though the light above flickered off and on, she could not move. As if frozen in time, all she could feel was wetness upon her face, the increasing cold air around the room and a growing headache. Just as her eyelids began to grow heavy once more, she distinctively felt someone's hand upon her shoulder. It felt gentle and friendly, but it scared the crap out of the woman. Jolting upright, the woman looked around frantically. She saw no one behind her, found no hand upon her shoulder. All she saw was a large monster of a man laying a foot away. Her wore black and red armor, and though the marine recognized him as a Spartan, she hadn't any idea who he was.
Forcing herself up to her feet, Shana slowly crept toward the giant. Inspect all she wanted, but she didn't understand why this man was here, or who he was. The big guy looked dead, blood trickled out from his mouth, his leg obviously busted. Reaching out her arms cautiously, Shana leaned forward toward the Spartan.
"Shana..." she heard her name coming from behind her. Chills running up and down her spine caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. The woman stopped dead in her tracks and could not deny the panic and fear she felt just then. The voice was not threatening in the least and though she recognized the man's voice, that did not help her in calming down. As liquid filled her eyes, Shana forced herself to turn around.
The lights above flickered once more before complete darkness took over. Pitch black was all the marine could see as she stood there in silence. Her heart pounded inside her, her skin crawled. Where the hell was she? What was going on? Patting her sides she desperately tired locating a flashlight, but found none. Not even a firearm was attached to her. To make matters worse, she began hearing noises outside of the ajar doors of the elevator. It was unkown to her wether a plain noise was more alerting or the skuttling. Her gut twisted, her heart threatened to hop right out of her chest, and she had nothing but a damn combat knife...flood..
was all she could think of as the noise came closer to her. Pulling forth the blade with hands that trembled, she fought back her fear. No..not me..
she thought and with an exceptional guess, she lunged forward and shoved the blade deep into the floor. A squeek was all she heard to let her know she had managed to hit her blind mark.
Frantically Shana felt around the elevator for a gun, but she found something round instead. Her fingers traced it and after a moment, the marine realized it was a helmet. Picking it up, Shana placed it upon her head and strapped it on snug. Tinkering with the options her couldn't believe how little the helmet was capable of doing. Surely this was not her helmet...Turning on the flashlight, her green eyes darted to the combat knife. It had impaled a rat. Upon further inspection, the marine could find nothing wrong with the creature. There was no indication of infection, no tentacles sticking out like a sore thumb. The only thing that seemed different about this rat than others was the size. This was a simple NYC sewer rat, naturally large, probably with its natural known diseases, but no flood infection.
Shana let out a slow and deep sigh of relief and freed her blade from its corpse. Lifting herself back up to her feet, the marine looked back to the spartan. She held the knife defensively as she reapproached the giant. Just because the rat was clear, did not make this man safe. Feeling Hunter's chest armor she searched for any signs of infection. There was nothing, but what she did find was a small vial protruding out of his breast plate. Placing a gloved finger over it she recieved another memory of how that tube got there, but she was still confused. Her mind was still stuck unknowingly in the past and Hunter's pressence made little sense to her. Smearing the blood on her forehead she rubbed it tenderly, her headache didn't help her in the least.
Groaning lightly, she placed her combat knife back in its place on her shoulder sheeth. Shana brought a hand cautiously to the spartan's neck and patiently waited for the sign of life. Upon feeling a heart beat, she felt another relieved sigh coming on. She was about to attempt to get the man to wake up when she heard the voice again.
Whirling around, Shana eyed the elevator doors. The same voice calling for her. Was she crazy? This man...he was dead. So how was it possible for him to call out to her? Pulling herself away from Hunter, the marine cautiously walked to the space between the elevator doors. Pulling out her knife once more, she peeked out into the room on the otherside. It was dark, a faint glow from a screen was all that she could see without the use of her helmet's flashlight. There was no body there..but she heard the voice coming from there so surely he was...Slipping her upper body though the space between the elevator doors, Shana nearly made it out completely when she was stopped by her bottom. The short woman cursed her round ass and placed the knife back in its sheeth as she struggled getting past the doors. Stumbling forward, Shana was unable to balance out and fell onto the cold concrete of the floor.
Moaning, the marine shook it off and stood back up. She walked around the room, but could not see anyone there. The place looked deserted. Most of the cabinets were flung open, whatever it once held was now missing. Upon further inspection, Shana realized this place was a med bay. The woman looked up to the vents and studied them carefully. They showed no signs of rupture nor were they boarded up. It was very unusual for her, and the woman slowly began to doubt her surroundings.
"What the hell is going on..?" she whispered to herself and marched her way to the glowing screen coming from a cubicle. The walls of the area were very short only reaching four and a half feet and the woman guessed it was strictly used just to keep each area seperate from the other and not meant for much privacy. Pulling out a chair from the desk Shana looked to the bed beside her, it looked stiff and uncomfortable. She pulled herself forward to the desk in front of her and inspected the screen. Moving the mouse to the computer caused the UNSC screensaver to disappear and show her it's plain desktop setting. The woman eyed the time and date and just couldn't compute what she was seeing. Was this some sort of sick joke the UNSC was playing? The time showed several years into the future of her current mind set.
"No...it can't be.." she said leaning back in the chair. For the first time since she awoke, Shana tested out her Comms and leaned forward once more to rest her elbows onto the desk. "This is First Lieutenant Shana Wasser requesting platoon status' and mission standing."
Whatever was going on, Shana was certain her company would know, but when Jacobs' voice came through, the woman's heart stopped. "Sh..Shana? This is Sergeant Jacobs...are you okay?"
She didn't know a Sergeant Jacobs, she did however know a Private Jacobs...did she hear wrong? "You say Sergeant Jacobs?"
"Yeah...Shana where are you? I just picked up Private 589; O'brian, give me your cordinates and we'll meet up. We'll get that Spartan patched up and-"
The woman didn't hear anything else as she took off her helmet and inspected it. This helmet wasn't someone else's nor was it malfunctioning..this was her helmet...and she wasn't a First Lieutenant anymore. The lack of flood infection, the injured Spartan, the scar upon her face, the date on the computer...it all began to make sense now. Her hands began shaking as the memories flooded into her. The past of failing to keep her company alive, and seeing each of them dying before her eyes. Having to relive such a horrifying memory in such a short span drove Shana over the edge.
Standing up, the chair flung back and hit the floor. Clutching the helmet tightly within her grasp, tears escaped her eyes and anger replaced all other emotions. With a growl of rage, the woman threw the helmet across the room and turned around to pick up her chair. Adrenaline rushing through her, she picked it up and swung it against the wall. Like a person high on Phencyclidine, Shana could not grip reality and time. She couldn't feel the pain in her fist when she punched a metal cabinet and dented it inwards. Her heartbeat could not be controlled with her slow, shallow and irregular breathing. For that mere moment she never felt so alone. She threw several more punches to the misshapen cabinet and backed off. Standing still, she tensed her arms, her knuckles dripped blood past the black cloth of her glove upon the concrete, her eyes clouded with anger.
As something rolled down to her and stopped against her boot, Shana looked down at it. A can with the words 'biofoam' stared up at her and at that sight, the marine began to regain her composure as she remembered Hunter. Her facial features softening, the woman picked up the can and looked back to the elevator. With so little light, she could barely see the ajar doors. Double timing it, Shana picked up her helmet from the ground and placed it back on her head. She strapped it on securely and squeezed her way back into the elevator room.
Lightly kicking his good foot, she inched closer to the spartan and stuck the can in between her thighs. "Hey wake up, We gotta get you out of here." she said kneeling down beside him, she brought her hands up to his face. Her light beamed right on him as she inspected his eyes for any sign of movement. Her right bloodied hand slapped him gently. "Come on big guy, wake up."