Chapter Text
Pain. All-encompassing pain.
'Well, if I hurt this much, then I'm obviously dead…’John groaned as the blinding white light faded from his vision, replaced by an intimately familiar purple/blue hue “Cortana? Are you there?” He activated his SOS Recovery beacon; there appeared to be cold hard vacuum outside of the barrier.
“That looked like it hurt…”
John whirled around to see Cortana walking towards him, resplendent in her Faerun glory “I thought being dead would hurt less,” he melted into her hug, her titanic body nestling into his like it was meant to be, her head resting just under his chin, “You took a H.A.V.O.K to the face, and you're complaining about a few aches and pains? I did a good job then.”
John took a moment to simply revel in the hug from his wife, “Gods above, I have missed this Meshla,” before his aching leg rudely reminded him of reality, "So how do we get out of here?"
Cortana's smile slipped “About that… I'm not coming with you this time."
John sighed, before sitting down, dragging his wife with him, “What are you doing?” Cortana asked, curling up on his armor, “I,” John sighed, “am going to spend as much time as possible with my wife, who I have missed holding dearly.”
Cortana giggled, sinking into him, “I need you to promise me something.”
"I just know I'm going to love this ...what?"
"Most of me is down there. I only held enough back to get you off the ship. I have been blessed with a life longer than I could have dreamed and gotten to spend it with the man I love. I know you still have one of the star card wishes. Promise me that you will save it for something or someone else."
John twitched violently at the thought, "No. That's not-! We go together. In sickness and in health, till death do us part."
"It's already done."
Monstrously strong arms curled around her and pulled her tight, as if he could change what was going to happen through sheer stubbornness (both parties shared a silent laugh at the numerous precedents that had been set), “This is happening no matter what, isn't it.” John said, resigned to her answer, “It is. We were trapped on the ship as it was blown into slipspace. I'm just projecting through the miniscule rift left behind.” John felt his heart crack. Decades of emotional control torn through in three sentences, “I’m…” he choked out, voice thick with painfully familiar emotion, “I’m not ready to say goodbye…”
“Neither am I, but we were supposed to take care of each other. And we did." Cortana brought their heads together in an armored kiss, their foreheads resting against each other, “It’s time,” she began to pull away, her hand lingering on his helmet, “Please don't forget that there is a man under this.”
John stood, carrying her to her feet, even as the barrier around them began to fade, “I love you.”
She leaned into him, savoring their last moment, “I know. Welcome home John…”
The barrier shattered and the world ended.
======================================================================
Debris field
Earth Orbit
“Infinity actual? This is Pelican six niner. We found him”
John forced himself not to react as he was brought on board the pelican, the urge to throw himself back into the void to join his wife was nearly overwhelming.
“-right, Sir! Are you alright?” He blinked up at the pelican’s loadmaster and realized he hadn't moved from where he had been dragged inside, ‘that’s definitely a concussion… and several broken bones…’ he thought, outwardly, he slowly hauled himself to the passenger bench before remembering to respond to the concerned soldier, “I will be fine.”
The loadmaster sagged in relief, “Great to hear sir, we’re twenty from the Infinity, I can tell the pelican to fly slower if you need a few minutes of shut eye.”
John considered his words, “If you can get me half an hour, I would consider it a personal favor.” He barely registered the affirmative response before blackness took him.
======================================================================
“-Ief, Chief? SIR!”
John blinked awake, the thirty minutes of rest doing absolutely nothing to solve the deep ache in his bones, he turned his head to stare at the loadmaster, who gave a soft breath of comfort as he realized the Spartan hadn't died on his watch, “we're on final approach sir. Is there anything I can do?”
John grunted softly as he stood, “nothing right now, thank you.” He purposely ignored the Loadmaster’s excited reaction from being thanked by a Spartan-II and grabbed the ceiling rail as the pelican passed through the Infinity’s atmospheric shield, before maneuvering around and finally touching down with a soft thunk.
The ramp hydraulics hissed as the ramp lowered. John paused at the top of the ramp as he looked out across the hanger, a cacophony of noise greeted him as an honor guard of Spartan-IV’s and Marines all saluted.
Moving carefully, treading the fine line between not showing pain while still supporting his aching body, John returned the salute, muscle memory from his childhood crawling to the surface after decades of disuse.
With forced nonchalance, he descended the ramp, intent on finding a painkiller somewhere before he allowed himself to feel anything.
======================================================================
UNSC Infinity
+1:44:34 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
Lasky stared at the giant standing in the observation bay, before deliberately clicking his heels as he walked forward, an Officer's trick to let Enlisted know they were approaching without spooking them.
“Thought I might find you here,” He said, taking position next to the Spartan, coking his head up to the seven-foot-tall demi-god, he continued, “ The Medics are looking for you by the way, something about ‘Running some tests on you to find out how you lived through taking a H.A.V.O.K to the face’”
John sighed, “Exactly why I'm here sir. If I get poked and prodded before I get 8 hours and a hot, then I will not be held responsible for my actions.”
Lasky laughed, before catching himself, “I’ll have someone find you a room,” he said, sobering, “Look, Chief-,” “John.” Lasky froze at the Spartans interruption, “Excuse me?” “My name. John, 117.” Lasky cleared his throat to play for time as he processed the magnitude of honor he had been bestowed, Spartan-II names weren’t listed Anywhere he had found (Nor had Sully… though perhaps that was simply gossip he wasn't allowed to share). Taking a breath to steady himself, he continued, “John, I'm not going to say I understand what you are going through at the moment, but… whatever you need, it's yours. Unless there is something of critical importance that needs to be shared, Lord Good has informed me that your debrief will be postponed until after search and rescue has finished in New Phoenix.”
John paused as a fresh wave of grief closed his throat before he could choke out a short, “Understood. Thank you, sir.”
Lasky nodded before turning to walk away, “I’ll leave you to it Chief- John.”
======================================================================
UNSC Infinity
S-Deck, Armor Bay
+2:51:44 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
Spartan Commander Sarah Palmer shouted encouragement to Smith, running on the treadmill, laughing as he stumbled, before an inhuman ‘Thunk’ reverberated through the deck, followed by another. She slowly turned to the threat, itching for a gun that wasn't there, before a demi-god strode past her. She knew something had changed with him after coming out of that Forerunner structure on Requiem, but stepping to the side of the walking weapon, she finally compared herself to the Spartan-II without her ego speaking. She didn't like what she saw.
It wasn't the fact that he was bigger than she was (and seemed to have gained an extra half foot in height at some stage), but it was how he moved. A killing machine pretending to be human. A thing that defended humanity against an unstoppable horde of aliens with as much fire and determination to save his species as they had to destroy them. And… she felt small.
‘No,’ she realized, ‘Not small. Green. Like the first time I saw an ODST while at boot camp…’
The walking mountain made his way towards the armor station, outdated Gen-1 Mk-VI armor booming on the plating with every step. Some of the taller S-IV’s stepped forwards to help, taking tools from the scientists that seemed like children next to the Spartan-II.
Piece by piece, the armor began to fall as bolts that (If records were accurate) hadn't moved in nearly five years screamed as they finally came loose, blood and mud from unknowable origins flaking off as armor plates weighing hundreds of kilos crashed to the floor.
Finally, the helmet was the final piece of armor remaining, at last the actual armor bay was able to be used for its intended purpose as a mechanical claw descend and clamped onto the back of the giant’s helmet and released its seal before, for the first time since his return from Alpha Halo, The Master Chief had his helmet removed.
He was pale. Unnaturally so, as if whatever had made him into the demi-god savior of humanity had stolen all colour from him, save for his piercing blue eyes.
His hair was a Tar-black, cut in the same practical (boot camp) short hair that she had seen on every other Spartan-II, and even a good number of S-IIIs. His skin, however, was where any resemblance to a mortal man failed, Grey. Not ‘white,’ not ‘pale,’ grey. Unpainted ship armor grey. Again, a part of her hindbrain, the part that kept humanity safe long before they were the dominant species on earth, cried out for a weapon, anything to protect her from the monster before her.
“-lmer…” she blinked, jerking her head up to the Spartan now standing before her, “Yes petty officer?” She forced out, reminding the both of them about the difference in rank, “I was asking if I was dismissed. You have been staring at me for the last two minutes, seventeen seconds. If possible, I would like to head to wherever I have been assigned a rack.”
Palmer mentally shook herself, “Dismissed, Master Chief.”
Returning the overly formal salute she had seen on every NCO that thought the superior officer was an idiot, she stepped out of the waking nightmares way.
Staring at the Spartan-IIs back, she realized that her trainers had skimped out on her. A fact that she intended to fix.
======================================================================
UNSC Infinity
Officers Quarters
+03:18:23 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
John hissed as he finally found his room, Captain Lasky had apparently found an empty officer’s room and had a team clean it out on the double. His under-armor body suit, while acting as a makeshift splint for his legs, now also clung uncomfortably tight to his, much larger, body.
A brief examination of the room suggested that, while not built for a Spartan-II’s height, the bed was much larger than the standard enlisted’s rack, while a further look highlighted the officer’s bathroom, which should include an Officer's water shower, his skin tingled at the thought.
Finally finding a way out of his under-armor in such a manner that didn’t result in him tearing his way out, he limped towards the shower, pausing as he took in his unfamiliar reflection. Skin, once pale human flesh, had been remade into the familiar and sturdier grey/blue tones of a Goliath, his augmentation scars crisscrossing across his body highlighted in navy blue scar tissue, while his hair, once a faded Chestnut brown, had darkened to a midnight black. Groaning at the inevitable medical tests he would be subjected to, he forced himself into the shower, ignoring the sounds of the shards of bone grinding against each other as he ducked under the hot spray.
Feeling clean for the first time since he stood on Cairo station, he hobbled over to the bed and was unconscious before he could finish pulling the covers over himself.
======================================================================
Earth Orbit
ODP Cairo Station
+3:11:36 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
“He was limping?”
Lord Admiral Terrance Hood couldn't quite believe his ears at Acting Captain Lasky’s report, “Yes sir.” The aforementioned Captain reaffirmed, “He was also under the correct assumption that the medical personnel would want to keep him for examination. And promptly threatened bodily harm if he was subjected to their tender mercies before he had slept. Given the situation, I did not feel the need to test his restraint.”
Admiral Hood sighed, loyal and obedient as the Spartan-IIs were, their dislike of non-essential medical examinations was legendary, “Did he have anything of immediate significance to report?” He assumed that Lasky would have opened with that if there was anything, but it still needed to be said for the record. “No sir. He did express interest in the debrief, but stated he didn't have anything immediately relevant to report, or at least, nothing that took priority over the New Phoenix response.”
Hood nodded, thinking for a moment, the search and rescue efforts in the Mega-city were progressing rather quickly, unfortunately. Piles of ash and faint levels of an unknown radiation were all that had been found so far, and for a city of over seven million people, the lack of even a single confirmable corpse, let alone a survivor was concerning. Realizing that there was not much left to do but wait, he finally came to the inevitable conclusion; “Very well. Inform the Master Chief that I want to speak with him. After he is cleared by medical.”
Lasky nodded, noting something down, before stiffening at the Lord Admiral's next words, “Now. I would like to discuss your actions regarding the Forerunner ship…”
======================================================================
Earth Orbit
ODO Cairo Station
+3:46:52 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
Lasky fought to keep his breathing regular as he began to answer the Admiral’s questions, “I ordered the fighter bombers back due to the sheer amount of chaff that the ship’s Point Defense systems were throwing out. We couldn't even hit it with Archers, let alone the slower and larger manned vehicles. I don't know what kind of Devilry the Master Chief participated in to be able to navigate that, but maybe the Covenant were on to something when they called him ‘Demon’. I was not about to waste lives needlessly for a futile attempt when MAC rounds were consistently making contact.”
“Interesting,” Lord Hood commented, continuing to make notes. Even knowing it was a distraction tactic designed to throw people off their train of thought did nothing to stop it from working, “Please. Continue. I’m curious about your decision to use the Infinity’s MACs at full charge.”
Lasky stubbornly refused to twitch at the bead of sweat making its way down the back of his spine. Decisions made in the heat of battle always looked like the right ones… right up until you had to justify them to the chain of command, “The Infinity had the biggest guns able to be brought to bear at the time, the only ones close enough were the ODP SuperMACs and the Epoch and Punic’s Breakwater turrets. It was repairing itself from everything we were throwing at it, but unless Forerunner tech breaks the laws of physics more than I am aware of, it still has to convert Something in order to repair itself, and unless Fire control was completely wrong, even with the rounds that missed or over penetrated, they won’t hit anything until the Ort Cloud.” He paused, weighing his words before choosing to gamble with his next statement, “And with respect sir, I would rather stand here and report that we wasted several rounds of depleted uranium in an attempt to halt an attack by a technologically superior foe, then stand here and state that we returned with a full magazine because there was nothing we could do. Sir.” he appended quickly, having lost a touch of composure at the thought of running from a fight in orbit of earth. The Admiral continued writing. A small smile ghosting its way across his lips, “Well said, Acting Captain.” He stood, causing Lasky to stiffen into attention, “At ease,” he gestured to his notepad, “I am very happy with what I have heard. Therefore, until such time as the Admiralty can be convened to confirm, I am promoting you to the rank of Brevet-Captain. You shall continue as you have as Captain of the UNSC Infinity with full rank and privilege. Congratulations.”
Shaking the Offered hand firmly, Lasky snapped a perfect salute, not quite trusting his throat not to crack.
Finally finding his voice, he replied with a simple, “Thank you sir.”
Admiral Hood smiled, fully this time, “well, Captain, I believe you have a ship waiting for you. Dismissed.”
Striding lighter than he had been in years, Captain Lasky left Cairo Station to formally take command of his ship.
======================================================================
UNSC Infinity
S-Deck Maintenance Bay
+6:03:33 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
“Man, the Chief really did a number on this thing…” Maintenance Sergeant Petra muttered to herself as she went over the suit of Gen-1 Mjolnir before her. The usually matte-smooth finish was pitted with carbon scoring from Covenant Plasma, dents from what she had to assume were from human weapons that had (Somehow) been turned against the Spartan, along with strange pits of metal that were just straight missing.
“Yeah, but Sargent, check this part out,” one of her Corporals highlighted, a near perfect circle of armor covering the back was Pristine. Not undamaged, not well maintained, Factory new. “Check it out boss, there's a matching circle on the chest plate, right on the abdomen.”
Petra turned away from the mysterious armor circle on the back to be met with a similar circle on the chest plate that again, was Pristine, as though it had been conjured out of nothing.
Thoroughly confused, she finally began to examine the armor’s files and firmware, what she found horrified her, “Someone get me the Captain, or the local ONI spook. I am 95% certain none of us have clearance to look at this.” The entire maintenance bay froze. Sgt Petra was notorious for her disdain of the Office of Naval Intelligence, and curiosity to look over a Spartan’s mission logs before sending them off for storage. For her to voluntarily ask for ONI’s presence meant there was something no-one should see.
“Uh, Boss?” Private Xu actually raised his hand, a habit she thought she broke him out of months ago, “Speak Private, and put your damn hand down.”
“What's on there?”
Sargent Petra sighed, “So. Does someone want to remind the newbie on what either ‘Classified’ or ‘Leave the bullshit to the ONI Spooks’ means?” Someone behind the Private cuffed him around the head, bringing out a sharp gasp, “Thank you Lance Corporal. Now. As for what I've seen to get the spooks involved, The Chief has gone up against the Flood,” she waited for the expected gasps and jumps away from the various work stations to die down before continuing, “The other part is that the most recent mission logs are encrypted in a language I don't even recognize,” she paused, steeling herself, “The only part that I can access is the servo logs, and they were knocked out of alignment half way through.”
Shocked silence reigned throughout the room before the same Corporal spoke up, “Sir, surely they have to be wrong… or mistaken… if the servos were misaligned, then…”
“Then for the last…” Petra trailed off, examining the logs, “18 hours, this armor has done nothing to support itself or increase the strength of its wielder. Meaning The Master Chief did everything he just did in a metric ton of armor, and it didn't stop him.”
======================================================================
UNSC Infinity
Captain’s quarters
+10:42:47 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
If anyone were to be walking outside the unlamented previous captain’s quarters, they would have been horrified at the sickening ‘Scrunch’ that echoed from within.
John grunted in discomfort as he was violently awoken by his bones simultaneously realigning and reforming into whole, fully healed melding’s of titanium-ceramic and bone, 'On the bright side,’ he thought, testing his repaired limbs, ‘Medical won’t be able to keep me for that at least’
He forced himself into his under-armor, the only garment available to him in the empty apartment that, upon further inspection by eyes not half blind with pain and fatigue, appeared to be a high-level officers’ quarters, if not the captains. He managed to get the form-fitting garment up above his hips before further progress was halted by his new physique preventing him from pulling the jumpsuit over his shoulders. Mentally sighing as he eyed the top sheet speculatively, he carefully knotted the sleeves around his waist before pulling the top sheet off the bed. On the bright side, it wasn't the first time he had been left to wander the town with naught but a pair of trousers and his cape, but the stares he knew would be coming never got any less uncomfortable.
He felt the thread count of the sheet as he knotted it around his neck, high quality. A king's weave, “Well, that certainly narrows down what happened to Del Rio…” he murmured to himself, sitting to meditate for a moment. There was an itching at the edge of his consciousness that he intended to divine before he braved the corridors of a naval ship, almost completely out of uniform.
==========
A weight settling into his shoulder brought him out of meditation. Haast sat there, clicking its beak like nothing had changed, its green lighting shining faint reflections on his skin and cape.
Sighing softly to himself, he willed Haast back into its bracer and slung his Forerunner blade into the back of the cloak, the blade having materialized with the bird.
Painfully aware of his attire and the fact that he was dressed like every barbarian he had ever met, he braved the corridors, intent in finding directions to the nearest quarter master, before reporting to the mess hall.
He was starving.
======================================================================
Crewman Jenkins staggered back as he nearly came face to face with a mountain of muscle from not properly paying attention to where he was going. Dragging his eyes up (but not too quickly), he was met with a face that belonged better on a sculpture than a man.
“-ewman…” the Adonis snapped his finger right next to the crewman's head, snapping him out of his daydream. Jenkins snapped to attention, face flushed at being caught staring, “Sir!” He stammered out, “I apologize sir, I did not catch what you said”
The statue sighed softly; A resigned noise, rather than an annoyed one that said he was used to this reaction, “I asked you which direction to the quartermaster's office.”
“Yessir. Down the corridor, elevator down to 7th deck, straight through to the 5th junction, right turn, 3rd door on the right.”
“Good. Now. Start doing laps from stem to stern until another officer tells you to stop. If you are going to stare, then make sure you still pay enough attention to what they’re saying. Go.”
Face burning with embarrassment, Jenkins began to run.
======================================================================
UNSC Infinity
Medical bay 3
+17:22:05 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
“And other than your increased height and… discoloration… there have been no other side effects?”
John fought the urge to sigh as he answered the same questions for the sixth time in as many doctors, “No doctor. Nothing unexpected or out of the ordinary. In fact, I felt better after the event.”
The doctor paused, their stylus stopping moving for the first time, “Please. Explain?”
John sighed, finally relenting to the urge, “All Spartan-IIs, as far as I know, deal with low levels of pain at almost all parts of the day. ‘Left over trauma from augmentations’ they said. We were told that they should fade as we finished growing and adapting to our new forms. It never did. Not for me at least. I was, at the time of the event, completely pain free.”
“And 36 hours later?”
“Mild discomfort and annoyance from having a H.A.V.O.K explode in my face.”
“I see…” the stylus was moving again.
Finally reaching the end of his legendary patience, The Master Chief finally snapped out, “Doctor. I have been here for the last five hours. What could you possibly still be looking for that you could not have already found?”
The doctor looked extremely uncomfortable before he finally set his pad and stylus down, interlacing his fingers; “It’s your DNA. At some stage since your last full medical examination, it has changed… Considerably, and yet, it still reads in the computer files as ‘Sierra-117, Master Chief of the Navy' suffice to say sir, you are not human anymore. Not completely, and we are trying to figure out just what you are now.”
John blinked, ‘Master Chief of the Navy?’ he paused, processing that new piece of information, before responding, “The last time I had a comprehensive physical check was before Reach fell. Between then and now, I have been exposed to any number of things that could have had long lasting side effects, including but not limited to: The flood, three times. Exotic radiation from Forerunner weapons. Repeatedly. Traveling through Slipspace in an unshielded craft, being pulled through Slipspace via a Forerunner crystal that distorted space/time around it, being on a ship that got torn in half, while in Slipspace, because of a Halo firing, collapsing the corridor. Being in cryosleep for at least 4 years while the wreck of the ship I was on went unshielded from cosmic radiation, having my ‘evolutionary track’ accelerated, going through Slipspace attached to the outside of a phantom, and then having a H.A.V.O.K explode in my face. With respect doctor, by this point I think I would be concerned if my DNA hadn't changed.”
The doctor looked at his notes one last time and sighed, clearly not wanting to say what he was about to, “Well then Master Chief, I don't think there's any reason to keep you in here any further, But-” He leaned forwards, elbows on knees and fingers interlacing together, “- if you experience ANY side effects or symptoms. Anything out of the ordinary, no matter how small, you will report for further examinations. Is that clear?”
John nodded, not giving a verbal confirmation that could be held against him in the future, as he tugged on his brand new ‘UNSC’ shirt the quartermaster had been able to print for him, The PT shirt and pants being the only clothing option that was able to be manufactured within such a short amount of notice,
“Have a good day doctor”
He checked Haast’s data screen as he left, the construct having shifted itself into a remarkably handy wrist mounted tac-pad, and sighed. His new set of Dress Blues wouldn't be ready until tomorrow, and Lord Hood had informed him that he was to report to his office on Cairo Station now, regardless of his current uniform status.
With a sigh at the thought of being so under dressed, John made his way towards the Pelican hangers to try and find a ride.
======================================================================
Earth Orbit
ODP Cairo Station
+19:30:25 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
It had been 5 years since he had last seen the Master Chief, but he had never seen the Spartan look so uncomfortable, standing in front of his desk in nothing but a set of PT shirt and running pants, ‘Emergency clothing from the quartermaster’ his memory supplied, flashing back to when such technology was first implemented during his own basic training.
“At ease Master Chief,” he fought to keep the smile off his face as the Spartan fell into parade rest, somehow looking more at attention than before, “...If I ordered you to relax son, would that actually do anything?”
The Master Chief paused for a moment before replying “Probably not sir.”
Hood felt the smile break through his defenses as he chucked softly, “Very well. To business then. Captain Lasky informs me that you have quite the debrief to share.”
It was here that the Spartan finally shifted in posture, a slight relaxation in his shoulders as he realized there wasn't going to be a conversation about his attire, “Yes sir. To begin with, there is a non-zero chance that The Didact, the Forerunner that was responsible for the attack on earth, is not dead. His armor, even compromised, was still leagues above any suit of Mjolnir, and he fell into a slipspace portal. I do not know if he could survive that, but I do not have a body to confirm death.” Hood nodded, his eye drawn to the interesting design of the Master Chief’s wrist mounted tac-pad, a timer steadily counting up, “Furthermore, in that same vein, there is a chance that UNSC AI CTN-049-1 also known as Cortana may still be alive and functional.” Terrance felt his eyebrows raise, “Please, explain. I was under the impression that she was destroyed with the rest of the Forerunners vessel.”
Sierra-117 shifted slightly, discomfort radiating from the Spartan, “She was, However, after I detonated the H.A.V.O.K at the core of the composer, the designation of the Forerunner weapon used by the Didact, she managed to use the vessel’s Hard-Light systems to put a shield around me to ensure I survived the blast. From what I know and saw, the entire ship was pulled into its own unstable Slipspace portal, not destroyed outright.”
Hood nodded, “I assume that you would like to be the one assigned to her recovery?”
The Spartan nodded, jaw sharp, “She has survived long odds like this before. I may not know where she is, but I wouldn’t bet against her sir.”
Terrance nodded, meeting the giant’s eyes, “Very well then. Consider yourself assigned to Cortana’s retrieval, oh hold pending actionable information on her location and status. Now. For the record,” he relaxed, pulling up his pad and stylus, preparing to take notes, “Please provide your mission report from last UNSC contact to now, I do believe that should be from leaving Earth to travel to the Arc,” he gestured once more to the chair in front of him, the Master Chief finally taking a seat.
“Well sir,” he began, taking a sip from a bottle of water, “As you are aware, the UNSC Forward Unto Dawn departed Earth's atmosphere through the portal to the Arc in pursuit of the Prophet of Mercy…”
=================================
“... And then I woke up floating in space.”
Terrance felt his eyebrows finally lower. His hand had begun to cramp from note taking almost an hour ago, and yet… “Why do I get the feeling you have been very selective with what you’ve reported about Requiem?”
“Because I have sir,” The Master Chief replied, “Because several events occurred, on that planet and while I was still on board the Forward Unto Dawn that I would either like to keep to myself or report to you somewhere else, preferably where ONI doesn't have as many listening devices. They were latchkey events and discoveries, one of which is what leads me to believe that Cortana isn’t dead.”
Lord Hood felt himself sigh and reached up to massage a headache away, “If I may sir, a touch of proof for what I don't want ONI to know about?” He looked up at the Spartan sitting across from him, now leaning forwards, hand outstretched. Curiosity won out and he met the Chief halfway, placing his hand into the giants.
Nothing happened, there was no flash of light, no mystical sound, but the moment his flesh met the super soldiers, he felt his headache draining and the stiffness in his hand vanish like a distant memory. He sat back, staring at the Spartan sitting across from him, and rubbed his wrist speculatively, “I can see why you would want that to be kept quiet.” He reached under his desk and hit a button to activate a localized jamming system, essentially rendering his office invisible to any form of monitoring systems.
“There are other applications that can be done with this, what you experienced was one of the more basic skills. If they aren’t already otherwise occupied, I would like to return to Blue Team and see if it would be possible to teach this.”
Hood nodded, his throat suddenly dry at the thought of Spartans being able to heal each other mid field, “what’s the limit on this?”
“If they are alive? I have seen organs regrown and limbs reattached.”
“Granted. It will take a few days for your paperwork to be processed and Identifications to be restored, but once done and Blue team returns from their current mission, you will all be sent on six weeks minimum mandatory leave, barring extenuating circumstances. I suggest the Waioru base in New Zealand. A rather small base that has been in need of updates for some time. Shame that the budget never got around to clearing it…”
John smiled at the disguised hint, “I have been meaning to take a look around the Southern Alps…”
John stood to meet the Lord Admirals extended and needed shook it, “Very well then, report back to the Infinity until further notice. I'll also put a rush order on a new set of Mjolnir for you.”
Saluting the Lord Admiral once again, John began to make his way back to the Super-Carrier.
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UNSC Infinity
Firing range, S-Deck
+117:30:15 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
The newly minted and Admiralty board confirmed Captain Lasky Strode into the Spartan’s firing range. It wasn't like Gunnery Sargent Stevens to call for an officer, much less for him to sound Nervous when doing so, “What is it, Gunny?” there was a rhythmic staccato echoing from within the firing lines, a 3-round burst, thirty seconds between bursts, almost mechanical in its timing.
“It’s the Master Chief sir. Came in 7 hours ago, ordered the SAW that he came in with. Rattled the serial number off by heart. He then took it without signing out any ammo, and he’s been at line 5 ever since. I haven't heard him reload the thing either. I walked by an hour ago, and he didn't have any brass nearby. He just stopped and stared at me until I left, and honestly sir? I've kinda been afraid to go back.”
Lasky blinked, processing the deluge of words from a soldier who had just looked into the abyss where he didn't expect to see it, before he nodded, “I'll go talk to him, see if I can get to the bottom of this. Hey, pass me a Battle Rifle, a couple of mags and some ear pro, will you? May as well get some practice in”
=============================
Br-Rr-rap!
“Mind if I join you?”
John paused in his firing as he noticed Captain Lasky's approach, “Not at all sir, it's an open range.”
He waited until the Captain started his round of fire before continuing. Haast continued to display the timer: +118:35:43. A morbid countdown to the confirmation of Cortana’s status as either “Killed in Action” or “In Need of a Spartan Shaped Rescue”. An artificer of Cortana’s skill could have an infusion (Like his SAW with Magical Ammunition) last almost a week after death. One hundred and twenty hours. Twenty-five minutes until confirmation. Br-Rr-rap!
…
Br-Rr-rap!
“Mind if I ask what brings you here?”
Br-Rr-rap!
“... Testing, sir.”
Lasky glanced to his side. True to the Gunnery Sargent's word, not one box of ammunition and not one spare magazine.
Br-Rr-rap! The gun fired, the action cycled, and the target at the end of the range shook with impacts, and yet… not one casing or singular piece of brass ejected.
Br-Rr-rap!
He continued to focus on his own target, content that the Spartan next to him would talk when he was ready
Br-Rr-rap!
The silence that followed was somehow more deafening than the gunfire. Lasky paused, thumb flicking the safety out of habit as he glanced out the corner of his eye at The Master Chie- John. The Spartan was staring at the display pad angled towards him, his whole-body tense as he stared at the display. A soft beep crept from the device as if, it too, was somehow afraid to break the silence. He straightened up, spine stiff enough to give a Drill Sargent envy, before he raised the Squad Automatic Weapon that Lasky could now see ‘117’ carved into the side of, up to his shoulder, took aim through the reflex sight that was still attached, and squeezed….
======================================================================
UNSC Infinity
Firing range, S-Deck
+120:01:17 post H.A.V.O.K detonation
Br-Rr-rap!
John felt his legs turn to slime as he fought to keep the gun from slipping from his suddenly numb fingers. He lowered a hand to the table, arm stiff as he could manage to find support, before he lowered the weapon to rest on the table. Suddenly painfully aware of Captain Lasky’s gaze, John forced himself to stand straight before addressing his current superior officer, “Sir. I wish to report that UNSC AI CTN-049, AKA Cortana, is Missing In Action. My weapon has received modifications from her that require some form of connection from her in order to function. In the event of her destruction, the weapon will revert to normal functionality within one hundred and twenty hours,” he glanced at Haast’s screen to confirm the time, “It has been over one hundred and twenty hours and then minutes.” Perhaps the formality of his speech was unnecessary for the current location, but formality was a great way to force words from a throat choked with grief and now strangled with hope.
Lasky stared at John, eyes tracking the minute shaking in his hand, before returning to the Spartan's face, “I will update her status. I assume that you will be leading a rescue mission?” He had seen that look in soldiers' eyes before. They may not have been legally married, but in the quiet of their foxhole, they had made oaths to each other. An oath that would drive one to either return with the other, dead, or alive. John nodded. Sharply, “Lord Hood has given me permission to pursue any actionable intelligence regarding Cortana. Until such a time as that Intel is discovered, I am to stand by for further orders.”
Lasky nodded, glancing down at his comdevice, “Understood. Talking of orders, you are to rendezvous with Blue Team on Cairo Station to collect your new ID and effects before departing to Waioru base for some R&R. Enjoy the break.”
John nodded, before glancing at the enchanted weapon in his hands, “Sir… would it be possible to…” he trailed off, unsure of how to ask an officer to remove military equipment from a base for personal use. Lasky laughed, waving him off, “Relax Chief. You may have missed the Memory but Spartans who have served for longer than ten years may requisition equipment for their own personal load out. It was how they appeased Spartan-058 and stopped her from threatening disembowelment upon anyone who touched her Sniper Rifle after she modified it,”
John laughed, a deep throaty chuckle that Lasky couldn't help but find reassuring, “Oh Five Right won't even let Me touch Nornfang unless it's to hand it to her, I would believe she's threatened people who wanted to double check she cleaned it properly”
The pair cleaned their booths before Lasky returned his equipment and watched the Spartan-IIs depart. The whole ship was on after-action stand-down as maintenance crews checked over the experimental technology that powered the Infinity. Maybe he should take Sully up on his offer to catch up over a beer on Earth…
======================================================================
Earth Orbit
Cairo Station
John felt his heart seize as he saw his family waiting for him. They were out of armor, looking mildly uncomfortable in their BDUs. He stepped forward, his new boots deliberately clicking on the polished floor. He saw the moment Linda noticed him, her green eyes flashing over him, tensing in confusion before recognition finally struck and her jaw fell open slightly, the small movement alerting the others to the newcomer's arrival. As one, Fred and Kelly stared across the hangar at the dark-haired, grey-skinned man striding towards them, Master Chief of the Navy insignia displayed proudly on the collar of his Dress Blues. Much like Linda, it didn’t take them long to see past the Librarian's meddling to see their brother beneath the grey skin.
“John…” Kelly whispered as they met him in the middle of the hangar, family reunited after nearly a decade apart, “It's good to see you all. We have so much to catch up on.”
For the first time since entering Earth's orbit, the ache of Cortana’s loss quieted; now he was no longer alone. He threw his much larger arms around them and pulled them into a hug, the impact sounding closer to a number of rocks colliding with each other, “Lord Hood has asked me to try and teach you a few things I learned while I was away, other than that, we have a minimum of six weeks leave, based out of Waioru. I'll explain when we get planeside. First round is on me.”
Fred paused as he boarded the Pelican, looking at his, now much taller, brother and commanding officer in confusion, “Wait. We get Paid?”
John laughed as the rear hatch finally closed.
It was good to be home
End of A Spartan's Oath, book one.
OMAKE:
Lasky sat across from Sully, the ONI agent sipping on his water, looking to the world like he wished it would magically replace itself with Vodka, “You remember Blue Team?” Sully nodded, the final night of Corbulo burned into his memory as much as Lasky’s, “How could I forget. You found the Master Chief while on that exploratory mission, didn't you?”
“Yup,” Lasky sipped his beer. Unlike the poor ONI agent across from him, he wasn’t on duty. “Did you know that they have names?”
Sully paused, suddenly thoughtful, “I feel like I should know that, but I’m assuming it’s not first name ‘Master’, last name ‘Chief’ is it?”
Lasky snorted, “No, but he did tell me his.”
ONI agent leaned in, “Can you tell me?”
Lasky sipped his beer, savouring both the taste of the alcohol and his friend’s anticipation, “Can you keep a secret?” Sully nodded, looking mildly offended, “Dude, I work in Communications at ONI. of course, I can keep a secret”
Lasky stared at the eager agent across from him and deliberately took a long and slow drink, purposefully keeping the man in suspense as long as possible. Finally, he set his glass down and leaned in close. Sully was nearly vibrating out of his clothes. Lasky smirked, “Good. because so can I.”
Commander Michael "Sully" Sullivan’s squawk of outrage may have drawn the attention of everyone in the officer’s bar, but damn, it was worth it.