Halo: The Search

Chapter 1

August 7th, 2550

"What are your marines doing?"  Amidst the outer colonies in a small house, Mom appeared at our kitchen's door frame.

My attention remained on various toy figures and I mumbled, "They're spartans. They're about to beat the aliens."

Though outnumbered and outsized, the three super soldiers knew how to outplay their foes.  The blue one rushed from imaginary cover, drawing fire and tanking shots with his shields. Aliens peaked to shoot and were quickly pegged by precise counter-fire.

Victory seemed evident, but the team didn't account for their maneuvers to be foreseen. Elites had taken advantage, now approaching the rear.

Suddenly, a beep unrelated to the battle snapped me from the climax. I looked up, seeing Mom's amused smile from my spaced out expression. With her standing there, I lost the ability to reign back in my thoughts.

"Supper is ready. The war can wait for later." She leaned down and ruffled my hair, walking back into the kitchen. I followed suit and sat at a round table. A kingly plate of nuggets and fries awaited.

"Eat slow, the toys are not going anywhere." I stared blankly at her. She disregarded my behavior, indulging in the meal while served piping hot.

I gnawed the edge of my lip and glanced backwards at my toys, grabbing a fry. When she didn't react to my oddity, I peaked up to see a tired look.

She knew what I wanted to ask.

"Your father is very busy, he won't be home tonight," she bit her lip as I had bit mine, probably where I picked up the habit, and carefully added, "He has war business."  The boundary of this conversation snuck up fast, meaning it was time to eat my food without further questioning.  The schematics of his job interested me, but Mom cared little to tell me what went on.

"Victor..." However, she exhaustively started back up, a surprising follow up that had never occurred at previous attempts of discussing this.  Her salad was stabbed and shoveled in as if dinner had suddenly become a tiresome chore. "Denver's job is important. Those battles you make up are even crazier and real where he works. They also don't end with aliens all over the carpet and your mari- spartans standing."

She chewed and blinked, pursing her lips. "Well, they don't ALWAYS end that way. You've seen his ODST's before, remember? They run many successful and dangerous missions."  It was hard to tell what the point of her telling me this was.  At the mention of ODSTs, I could only think about how they were my favorite and coolest looking toys.  One stern look instructed me to respond accordingly.

"I understand that he can't be here, I'm not upset." She stopped eating again and stared at me, looking for lies. I grabbed a nugget, biting it and drawing in a deep breath. My attempt at responding correctly despite not actually understanding her words had not slipped by those familiar eyes.  That very gaze demanded that I reveal my childishness.

"I just don't get why I can't visit again." This woman was impossible.  As if to prove my point, my flustered response had earned me a sympathetic smile. Did I humor her with that response?

"You know that that's difficult." Now it was my turn to stop eating, dropping a nugget mid bite and staring incredulously.

"They loved seeing me there!" She folded her hands on the table and raised her eyebrows. I bit my tongue frustratedly.  Obviously my subjectiveness needed justification.

"I mean, they laughed and stuff." My thoughts tumbled about, unable to formulate a rebuttal as my composure grew frustrated upon seeing her smile widen.  Inhaling sharply, I tried to stall her response, hoping to get in one good point.  "I wasn't bothering them-"