ATTENTION: The events and/or characters mentioned may differ from any/all actualities from the Halo franchise. This story is entirely separate from and unaffiliated with any other Halo book, game, or miscellaneous product. 117 is not endorsed/supported by Bungie Studios, Microsoft, XBOX or any other trademarks in cooperation with anything Halo related. Halo: Combat Evolved, Halo 2 and Halo 3 are a copyright of Bungie Studios and Microsoft Corporation (1985-2008)

117

"They let me pick…did I ever tell you that? Choose whichever SPARTAN I wanted. You know me. I did my research. Watched as you became the soldier we needed you to be. Like the others, you were strong, swift, and brave – a natural leader. But you had something they didn't. Something no one saw but me. Can you guess? Luck."

That couldn't have been farther from the truth. Sure, he narrowly escaped being killed frequently, almost on an hourly basis, but SPARTAN-117 might as well have been the unluckiest human ever to have lived. Johnson once told him, he was just another Jonah1. He was right on target, too. John's life was a living hell on steroids. When he was fighting, he was in pain. Even when he wasn't fighting, he was in pain. But not the normal pain sustained in battle. No. It was worse. I was the kind of deep, emotional scar that renders an average person broken, with an empty, glazed look that shakes everyone to the soul. But the Master Chief was no average person. He may have been the most advanced human alive. Even though his mind was nowhere near a match.

Chief could, in fact, still remember that day. Not in full detail, thanks to the last 35 years of experiences, but well enough to the point where it would indirectly cause him grief, for the life he never got the chance to lead. He could recall how he was only six years old. He was just spending another day at school, having fun the same way any normal six-year-old would. Every day, he'd play in the courtyard and on the field with all of his friends and classmates. Of course, being a surprisingly aggressive child, the other children only played with him for fear of what might happen if they were to avoid him. But, he liked it that way, to an extent. It proved that he was tough, which was what he wanted people to see more than anything else. But that was usually all that anyone ever saw. He was not the type of person to mess with. He hated to lose, just like any other kid his age. Only, he wouldn't accept loss, not for anyone or anything. For John, failure was not an option, ever. There was no justification, no excuse, for why he should fail. There was no room for error, not for John. He'd fight with every last ounce of strength, right until passing out; if it meant that he could win.

But on that day, the 1st grade teachers held a game of King of the Hill during recess. John had shown a talent for this - and many other games - and had proven that he was nearly impossible to defeat. Everyone took their place, and a teacher blew a whistle to signal the starting of the game. John raced off faster than anyone else, and stood atop the hill on the field for the entire duration of the game, and not once did anyone take his place.

The game was over in a matter of minutes, as the teachers scored based on how long the king controlled the hill. Only John had scored at all. And someone who viewed the game was greatly impressed.

Dr. Catherine Halsey [or as some people called her, Cath] had been watching John for several months now. Not in an inappropriate way, but the scientific way. Along with hundreds other six and seven-year-olds, John had been watched from afar. He was considered to be farther along in both physical and mental development. He was almost an entire head taller than most of the other kids, and had an estimated intelligence quota of 120 points. Additionally, he was muscular, intimidating, had stamina, and seemed to think before taking action. He fit the bill perfectly. But most importantly, he didn't accept failure. He was perfect.

Soon thereafter, Halsey approached him, just when no one was looking. She tapped him on the shoulder when he walked by, also greeting him casually. She sweetly asked him his name, although she already knew a lot about him, but she needed an excuse to make conversation. The boy replied with a small grin, desperately trying to mask it with little success.

"Well, John," Halsey said, "you like fighting?" She asked, thinking back on how she had watched him play against [and beat] one of his friends at paintball just a few days earlier. He hesitated, then shamefully confessed, "I guess so." John quietly spoke as he stared at the ground, scuffing the dust with his shoes.

As if by luck, the bell rang, telling everyone to head back to class. The kids all stampeded toward the door, pushing and shoving on their way in. As the mob traveled along, it left a trail of dust behind from the field, and John, almost by custom, looked around outside before turning toward the door and hastily strolled in. With that, Halsey left. She had finally made her decision, although it was one she wished she didn't have to make (even though she did at some level of thought).

It was that night that an agent from the Office of Naval Intelligence was given the green-light to finish his rounds. The only stops he had yet to make were in Elysium City – John's hometown. After four hours of collection, he went to the last house in the Athens subdivision of the Proletariat neighborhood. Just before two in the morning, he reached his target, and broke into John's home by means of a window that was carelessly left open in the kitchen. After sneaking past the master bedroom, the agent silently pushed a door open leading to John's bedroom. With a sedated flash clone on his back, he carefully placed a cortical inhibitor on John's right temple, and gently switched him with the flash clone. Now that was done with, he headed back to the kitchen, put the window in its original position, and calmly exited through the back door, making his way to the car that he had driven to the suburban home.

After belting John in to the back seat, the agent put his watch back on, started the car, and drove off to the extraction point near the airport, where an enlarged, old-style pelican was awaiting the arrival of the last few children. Only twenty minutes later, he entered a gate adjacent an aircraft hangar, and drove the car right up alongside the pelican. A marine took the three kids that the agent had brought with him out of the car, and put them next to the five others in the pelican. The agent and marine boarded, closed the door behind them, and then removed the cortical inhibitors to avoid sending the children into shock when they left the atmosphere. They gave the signal to the pilot that they were ready, and took their seats.

Suddenly, the engines roared to life, and the pelican took to the skies. After just a few seconds, the craft lurched in an upward direction, and the artificial gravity was enabled. The sudden change in trajectory woke one of the kids unexpectedly. He was still very dazed and was stunned, but after a moment, he was fully conscious. He looked around, unsure as to wear he was, then cautiously asked, "what's happening?"

"Christ!" the marine yelled, waking everyone else. Desperately, he tried to sedate them with a sedative. Chaos broke out when one kid yelled, "The city's getting smaller!" All of the children crowded around the window. All but John. The marine and agent went around the group of kids with a sedative, rendering them unconscious. The marine came then to John with the shot, but stopped just before administering the drug. He immediately noticed that the boy was as calm as he would be after watching a boring movie.

"What do you think?" he asked the agent. "Should we let him be?" He nodded, and the marine put the others back into the seats, and then took his own, just as the pelican began to leave the stratosphere. John, sitting next to the door, peered forward, looking behind the pelican as it flew along. Eridanus was getting smaller for every second that he looked through the window that was inset into the door. Then, the reality of the situation dawned on him. The men were taking him away from his home. His eyes widened as he realized this, then he slammed back into his seat, wiping a stream of tears away, and smacking his fist against the wall. He didn't know why, but he was being taken against his will, and, somehow, he also knew that he would never see his home in Elysium again.

Was he being punished for something? He wasn't sure. But whatever was happening was a shock, and it scared him. He curled up into a ball and rocked himself back and forth in his seat as he sobbed, pleading in his mind for this all to be just a horrible nightmare that would end soon. But the end never came. It dragged on for nearly an hour. The whole time he cried until he'd cried so much that it hurt to touch the area around his eyes. Then, his tear shed was reduced to the frequent sob, accompanied by the view he had of the ever-shrinking Eridanus II. As the pelican continued on, his home planet grew smaller and smaller, until the point that it was completely hidden behind the moon of which he did not know the name. Then, as the moon too was overshadowed by the sun in the distance, and his loving home, became only a memory from his past.

The SPARTAN let out a choked sigh as he stared through his helmet's visor, remembering that horrid event from his past. He hadn't thought about it until now, as he slowly flew away from Earth, headed toward the Ark. He took a look out the window of the pelican he was in, and got one last sight of Earth. It seemed like such a remarkable place to him. He didn't consider it home, especially since he'd only been there a few times before. But he examined the ocean covering the surface, with its luminescent, bright bluish-green splendor. He saw the brown and green mountains and valleys of the world as it slowly turned on its axis. Eridanus II was nothing like that. Its seas were no longer, and the mountains had eroded into small hills. Furthermore, the planet was much larger than earth, so its gravity was great enough to cause discomfort to the young and elderly. The climate was much less favorable due to its being an extra million miles from the sun. And the planet's atmosphere was light brown, dusty, and mostly carbon dioxide. In fact, only the parts of the planet that were terra formed were livable. But, Earth…it seemed like such an amazing place. So full of life. Much like Reach, the planet on which John was trained. He remembered seeing the oceans, the mountains, the forests, all from the comfort…discomfort, of his quarters.

John sank back into his chair, stacking his long legs on the floor in front of him. He simply let his head nod back as he once again was lost in thought.

John could recall in detail much of what life was like of Reach. It quickly became the only life he knew; the military. Officer Mendez would wake everyone up in the morning by banging on a trash can lid. He always alternated wake-up times though, to keep the trainees ready for anything and to be ready at a moment's notice. But John was always up before then. He'd always wake around four o'clock anyway, which worked out well as Mendez never got up before five.

In addition to always having to get up at ridiculous hours, the food at the training facility was repulsing. Every day, for every meal, it was always the same, bland, dried-out protein mix. It was horrible. It was gooey, mushy, and usually had chunks in it, that, when examined, turned out to be week-old celery and green beans. The side was only two calcium pills and a sugar cube. And all there was to drink other than water, was UNSC surplus immunity-boosting energy drinks, which were utterly disgusting and often made the kids lose their stomachs. But John was tough, and as such he willingly adapted and lived with it (even though he too found it completely inedible).

However, there were some upsides to being on Reach. He had more friends than ever. Even from the first day, he had an "inner circle" of about eight or nine friends. Two of whom, Kelly, and Sam, he had already known before he was taken away from Eridanus. But over the course of just a few hours, they went from being acquaintances to being almost like a family, and the vowed to watch each other's backs, and included a few others in that deal as well. Though, it was all the same no less. Life was hard on Reach in the SPARTAN Training facility. They were never allowed outside the walls of the landing zone. Anyone who violated this rule would be severely punished. Also, they were not permitted any contact whatsoever outside of the facility. They would train for 14 hours a day as well, usually starting with 300 push-ups, then running 40 or 50 miles around in a circle. The rest of the day was weaponry training, obstacle courses, or tactical history and analysis. The SPARTANs had very little to no resting periods; their only resting time was a three hour period on Sunday mornings. And the clothes they had to wear; two pair. The first pair was a set of underwear, green cotton pants, and a green or black cotton t-shirt. Then, they had their training clothes; underwear, cotton shorts, and a black a-shirt. That was about it. The entertainment was non-existent. The only thing to do when the SPARTANs weren't training was play cards, or play games that involved running around. John never did play around though. All he did was what they were expected to do; train.

John made an effort to be physically and mentally ahead of everyone else. It seemed like training and exercising was all he did. Even when they were done for the day, John would keep going, often until ten or eleven at night. Then, the first thing he would do in the morning, was go for a five mile run in the dark to get warmed up for the day. Even on his seventh and eighth birthdays, he would be up and out the door by four-thirty in the morning, out exercising alone. People noticed this after a while, how he would disappear for an hour or two in the morning, come to breakfast, train with them, then disappear for the rest of the night.

Kelly once asked him why he always trained, even when he wasn't supposed to. All he said was, "It's my duty." It seemed to be all he ever said anymore. Aside from when he was spoken to by a marine, he never said anything. Whenever one of his fellow SPARTANs would ask him a question, he would simply ignore them. He wouldn't even talk to Kelly and Sam anymore. It was like, after the first month or so, John had kept completely to himself. Sam, Kelly, and everyone else with whom they were friends with were worried. There was definitely something wrong. Soon he disappeared altogether, only being seen during training hours. Then, one day, John wasn't seen at all. No one knew where he was, and not even Officer Mendez had seen him. Something was definitely wrong. Everyone knew that John wouldn't just disappear unless it was for a reason, and a damned good one at that. But it was decided that he would be found when he wanted to be found, after much searching with no success. Unfortunately, they were wrong. John wanted to be found, although he knew very well where he was. But no one had thought to look there, so he decided it had to be done. He had been away from home now for two years. Two years. He had had two birthdays on Reach, in which time he had gone to hell and back. He couldn't take it anymore. It was time…he ended this torture. He picked up a key, and stabbed it into himself. John felt agonizing pain with a foreign object sticking out of his chest, and screamed as if he were about to be run over by a truck. As the last person sat down with their lunch in the cafeteria, everyone went silent as they heard the cry of immense pain. Every SPARTAN dropped their meals and forks and sprinted for wherever the hair-raising screech was coming from. Within a matter of seconds, they broke through the door to the lockup, and found blood on the floor that had just been spurted out through John's chest. Everyone was paralyzed. They couldn't believe the shear horror of what they were looking at. The instant that Kelly saw him, she made a mad dash through the horde of children, picked up John off the cold, cement floor, and hurried off to the infirmary.

As she arrived she urgently yelled for the doctor. Why John would have tried to kill himself, Kelly didn't know, but that wasn't important right now. She had taken John's pulse three times on the way to the medical bay. Each time it grew more and more irregular and got slower and slower. There was one thing that was clear, John was dying. The doctor quickly came out with stitches, a needle, and a scalpel. He quickly removed the key, and plugged the hole with a towel.

"Hold pressure on his chest." The doctor calmly instructed Kelly as he readied a blood bag and biofoam. With an injection in hand, the doctor spread a glob of biofoam across the wound then shot penicillin into John's chest. The foam expanded, and sealed the hole. Kelly reluctantly let off the pressure. John was going to live. Kelly silently thanked God as she stumbled back into a chair next to the door. She still couldn't believe what had just happened. As the physician put the finishing touches on the stitches and wrapped a bandage around John, Kelly started thinking about why John might have tried to commit suicide. It was so confusing. She knew that he was the type that was vulnerable to emotional distress, but she didn't think he would ever go this far. Even after an hour of trying to figure it out, the eight-year-old girl was even more perplexed than she was when she brought John in. She would just have to ask him about it, but her question would have to wait for another day.

The next morning, Kelly was informed that John was conscious again, and that he wanted to speak with her. Kelly threw the sheets off her bed and made a beeline for the medical bay. The entire way there, she ran, ran as fast as she could for only being half awake. She came to the infirmary door, but stopped for a moment to think of how she had carried a dying child through this door just a day before. She felt almost afraid to walk through it again, fearing that fate might decide to take John after all, just like it had almost done the day before. But it was just irrational of Kelly to think that might even be possible. She didn't believe in fate. And she sure as hell didn't believe that her just walking through a door would kill John. She closed her eyes, and strolled in. John sat up from his trance at the ceiling at the sound of footsteps. Kelly could see that he was fine, and was relieved, despite the fact that there was dried blood on his chest. She took a moment to look John over, just to make sure he didn't have any more injuries. She walked around the table, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She didn't notice any wounds, but she did happen to notice how abnormally muscular her friend had become.

"What are you doing?" John asked curiously, somewhat alarmed by the almost motherly way that his friend examined him. She snapped back to reality, simply shrugging off his question. Just as he spoke, she noticed that he was staring at her with a "weirded-out" expression. She simply looked away, toward the status console on the wall near John's bed.

"I wanted to thank you," John said, almost as if against his will. Kelly looked at the SPARTAN, telling him, "It's my duty." There was a moment of silence before she worked up the nerve to ask him she had been wondering ever since the day before. She casually walked up to John and sat next to him on the bed. For a moment she just stared at the floor, slightly swinging her legs back and forth. It was then she realized that she was just stalling, and forced herself to talk. She told him how she considered him the brother she never had, and that she cared about him greatly. She was telling John exactly what she thought of him. He was, the only family she really even had anymore. Ever since she was kidnapped by ONI, she considered John to be part of her family, and she grew very close to him very quickly. John felt very much the same way toward her.

John had never had any siblings. Not one. As far he knew, Kelly was as close a friend as he'd ever had. He'd do just about anything for her; maybe even sacrifice himself if it meant survival. And he never thought about reconsidering. He cared for her too. And somehow, knew that she deserved to know why he had done what he had done. He painfully pushed himself off the bed, and landed hard on his feet. Kelly tried to stop him, but he persisted. He limped over to the door, his chest feeling as though it was on fire.

John stopped at the doorway, and leaned against its frame, the bandage around his torso flexing as he put his arm against the wall. He said to Kelly, "I've been away from home for two years – two years. I was taken from my home in the middle of the night and was replaced with a vegetable. I was forced to lead a life that I never wanted. My parents haven't seen me for two years, and think I'm dead," John started to sob as he turned around to face Kelly. "And the worst part is…I'm never going to see them again." He said between tears. John collapsed onto the floor and bawled. Kelly rushed over to him and embraced her friend as she herself started to cry in realization at the fact that she was in the same situation.

My parents…John thought to himself as a marine opened the cockpit door. It's been so long…John stared into space through his helmet.

"Hey, Phil, where did you say that forest extraction point was?" Chief overheard one marine say to another. Forest extraction point. Suddenly, another memory dawned on him.

When John was only eight years old, the SPARTANs got their first off-base training mission. One morning, instead of reporting to the courtyard to start the daily training, Officer Mendez called all of the subjects to the hangar. After they had all assembled, he told them what they were going to be doing that day. As he spoke, he spoke like a general, saying clearly, "You will all be dropped off on Mt. Harlan by a troop transport pelican. You must travel to an extraction point approximately twenty miles away, where there will be a small freighter waiting for you. However, the last person to arrive must be left behind, or the punishment will be severe. We leave in a half-hour." Mendez finished, then dismissed the student militiamen.

John was ready to finally get out of the training facility. He hadn't been out in nature for two years now, and he was eager to take in the fresh scent of the Earth-like pine trees, and feel the cold nip of the freshly fallen snow. He'd always loved being in nature, even as a toddler. He could recollect how his father would take him camping every summer on Eridanus I. He loved that almost as much as just getting out of the house. But he loved coming back home as much as he loved roughing it in the woods in the middle of nowhere. John could also remember the time, though, that he and his dad got lost in the forest after going fishing for the day. It took them four days to wander back to their campsite, at which time they decided to cut their trip short. They had almost starved, froze, and dehydrated to death, which kept them from going camping for a year. The memory of which caused something to register in his mind. Had Officer Mendez said to leave the last person behind?

Just before the SPARTANs departed, John told five people to tell everyone on their pelican to meet up just before they reached the extraction point. He wouldn't let anyone be left behind, not on a training mission. Then, just a few minutes later, everyone boarded their pelicans and were taken to the drop-zone. All five groups were left in different places.

As the five groups set off, snow started to lightly dust the crisp, white snow in the fresh morning air. John was glad to be out here, but wished that it wasn't for training. Though, the twelve other people in his group didn't seem to mind. Since they were all alone and didn't have anyone watching over them, a few of the children had snowball fight as they traveled along. John, having had no entertainment for the past two years, decided to make the most of his time out in the mountains and joined the others in throwing snowballs. Very quickly, it escalated from a small snowball fight to an all out war. Everyone started making bigger and bigger clumps until they needed another person to help them lift the snow. Others were running as they threw snow and pinecones at each other, laughing like they hadn't since they were civilians. After a while though, they started to calm down to conserve their energy for the few up-hill miles that they had left. Unfortunately, it was almost not enough, as the snowfall started to pick up and the wind started to blow as they reached the timberline. The snow started to harden as ice formed. John decided that they needed to pick up the pace.

"Let's get a move on!" he commanded his fellow SPARTANs as the weather further deteriorated. By the time his team had reached the rendezvous point, thick, grey snow-clouds were rolling in from the north. His team was the last to arrive due to their slacking off along the trail. Many people stared at them with disappointment, while Sam and Kelly were happy to see that he had made it in one piece. Then they were overcome by a wave of seriousness. They explained to John and everyone else that they had spotted two men with guns guarding the door of the freighter. They had seen marines before, but only in uniform, and never with guns. The men looked rather intimidating, and the children decided that they were a hostile threat.

"Here, take this," John said, picking up a few rocks, and taking one in each hand. "Hope you have a good aim." John drew his arm back, and gave the signal for the others to stone the guards. One of the guards looked over a wall of boulders to see a hundred rocks being flung at him. He jumped out of the way just before they hit him, and tried to warn the other of the danger. But before he got the chance to react, he was struck on the head by a baseball-sized stone and fell to the ground with blood spilling out. The other marine tried to help him, but was knocked unconscious by another stone.

John peeked over a large boulder, and saw that the guards were down, then gave the signal to advance, but stay out of the view of the pilot in the cockpit. All 75 kids ran up behind the freighter, being as silent as they could be with the snow crackling beneath their feet. John motioned for Sam to come with him into the spacecraft, and the two lightly stepped in. The kids could hear a squeak. Then they heard a person saying "What the…?" followed by a plop on the deck plate. Suddenly, the pilot was flung out the side door of the craft, and John peeked his head out and said, "Gone!"

All 73 other kids hopped onto the door in the back of the freighter, then took a seat, while John sat in the cockpit, and was joined by Kelly and Sam. Both of whom asked if he knew how to fly. He simply replied saying, "How hard can it be? Press a few buttons, flip a few switches, and pull back on a lever, right?" Kelly and Sam looked at each other with the "he's crazy" look. Sam turned back to the co-pilot seat and buckled himself in after sitting down, while Kelly went back into the hold and shut the door, giving a "thumbs-up" when they were ready.

John flipped a switch that "fuel flow – on". He proceeded to look for a button or a switch that would power up the engines, only saying, "How do you start this thing?" Sam leaned over and hit a random switch, which, by chance, started the engines on idle. He then placed his hand on a lever, assuming it was a throttle, and pulled back on it, causing the freighter to lurch back and smash into a tree. "Oops!" Sam exclaimed. "What do you say we try that again?"

"Without the 'oops'." John added, just prior to slowly advancing the throttle forward. Instantly, the freighter picked up forward speed, headed straight for a large rock. At the last possible second, John pulled back on the control stick in front of him, and the aircraft pitched up, skimming the rock as it flew, leaving behind a trail of sparks and a rod with a black circular tube attached. As it seemed that everyone was out of danger for the moment, Kelly got up from her seat, and headed for the cockpit, stumbling a bit when they hit turbulence.

"Nice job guys," she said breathing heavily from the excitement as she reached the door. John and Sam slowly turned to face her, the faces red from all the adrenaline and their eyes wide, and jaws hanging.

"Thanks," Sam said, stunned from what they had just been through. Kelly then turned to head back into the cabin, but stopped and said, "Oh, by the way, you broke off the landing gear when you took off." John and Sam's eyes got even wider, knowing that they would have no way of safely landing without the gear. What was worse was that they had less time to deal with that than they thought. The landing zone was only a few miles away, and they were already descending into the valley where the training facility was located. As they aligned the craft to the runway in front of them, John and Sam knew they would only have one shot at landing without getting everyone killed. John gently reduced the freighter's speed until the engines were near an idle, then deployed the speed breaks, while Sam extended what was left of the landing gear. The freighter got closer and closer until at the last second, John lowered the nose, then pulled all the way back on the stick to make it fly straight up, putting the aircraft just thirty feet above the runway. In a last effort to make the craft land without completely destroying it, he put the engines on full throttle, and dipped the nose, causing the freighter to stall. As if by a miracle, the giant hunk of metal slammed into the runway, skidding twenty or so feet along the pavement, before coming to a stop. John had done it. He had gotten everyone out of the mountains, miraculously flying the freighter to safety, and against all odds, managed to touchdown without anyone getting killed. Everyone was going to be fine, and so was John…or, so he thought.

"You killed a UNSC marine and critically injured two more, then…crashed, a UNSC freighter." Officer Mendez said with anguish. The veteran could hardly believe that John-117, a kid, hijacked a UNSC ship and flew it all the way back to the facility. He had never been so enraged at anyone in his life. And he sure as hell had never been more pissed by the fact that John killed a hardcore marine with rocks! He, at that moment, wanted nothing more than to kill John himself. But he knew that he couldn't. For one, he would be thrown in a military stockade, and, two, (God forbid) Dr. Halsey recommended that John be promoted to squad leader. This is insanity! Mendez thought to himself. In his opinion, they should have put John in another Pelican, and stranded him in the middle of the Mountains…again. But what angered Mendez the most, was the fact that no one had been left behind. His idea of the "survival of the fittest" test was eliminated, and his hopes of teaching the SPARTANs how valuable staying unattached could be were dashed. But, Dr. Halsey was overseeing the SPARTAN-II program, so he had no other choice, he explained, but to "promote you to squad leader of the other SPARTANs." John nearly jumped out of his seat at this news. He knew that he would make a good leader, but he didn't expect to be put in charge of the other SPARTANs.

The news of John's commendation spread like wildfire around the facility. Within a matter of minutes, everyone knew of what had just happened, and they adjusted their respect for John accordingly (especially since he now had the authority to issue orders to them). But it seemed…that no one treated him the same after that, with the exception of Kelly and Sam. Everyone started to act differently around him, all of the sudden. Whenever he'd walk into a room filled with the SPARTANs, they'd all stand at attention, and stop talking for the rest of the time he was there. Additionally, they never challenged John or argued with him, and always gratefully accepted any advice that he'd give them. But John knew what was up. He saw right through their little act. They were jealous that he'd been promoted ahead of them. Or were they mad? Did it even matter what they were anymore though? Did it matter to John, specifically? Not anymore. He didn't care what they felt anymore, because he knew, some way or another, that they hated him for his being a higher rank. At meals, he sat with just Sam and Kelly, or no one at all. Hardly anyone would ever talk to him anymore, and they all stared at him when he was doing something, anything. And this, itself, made John angry as well. Again, John soon began to keep more and more to himself. He'd wake up earlier than everyone else, and exercise in the early hours of the morning, then come back only for training, meals, and lights out. His life rebounded back to being a living hell, and stayed much the same way for the next four years.

By his 12th birthday, everyone despised John, aside from Dr. Halsey, Kelly, Sam, and Officer Mendez. John was utterly miserable, and wanted nothing more than for training to end so that he could move on with his life. To make him feel better and more appreciated, the people who did still care about him threw a private party for him, and had the cook make a cake with ingredients imported from Earth. But, despite their attempts, John refused to take any part in his own celebration, stating, "If I can have a party, why can't everyone else?" It seemed that he refused to allow himself to be happy, or, as happy as a kidnapped child could possibly be in a military institution. Even when the psychiatrist tried to analyze John, he refused to open up. In the end, he was just stumped, even though he knew that John was taking the hatred that others felt for him and turning it inwards. He refused to work through his pain. But then, one morning during the resting period, John finally explained why he had been acting the way that he was to Sam and Kelly; he never had many friends on Eridanus-II. All the friends whom he could actually recall having were Sam and Kelly. Everyone else was either an acquaintance or someone who didn't like him in particular. He felt incredibly depressed by the fact that he had never had many friends, which was one of the reasons why he had tried committing suicide those years earlier. But it might have been a good thing in the end, the fact that he was unattached to most people. For just two years later, their training had come to an end.

At fourteen years old, John-117 was as fit and muscular as an Olympic swimmer. He could run a mile in just under five minutes and seventeen seconds, and lift up to 243 lbs. of weight. He stood at five feet, seven inches (about three or four inches taller than most of the others) and would risk everything for one person. He was the ideal candidate for what was to come next…

A week or so later, the SPARTANs were all notified that they would be genetically enhanced for combat. John was given a roster of who would have what day and what drugs would be dispensed. But he was shocked by the sheer number of "enhancements" that were listed. He counted 5 drugs and bio-modifications. The first of which was something called "Carbide ceramic ossification" which was listed to be used for strengthening bones to near indestructibility, involving the use of metal and ceramic particles that could adhere only to bone.

Even though he didn't know what it meant at the time, John thought it sounded painful, and, in his opinion, the other drugs didn't seem to be any different. Quite frankly, he didn't like what the claims were in this case. But he did acknowledge the fact that these biological modifications were his future, and had to accept them, for tomorrow, he was slated to receive the first of the augmentations.

-----END OF PART ONE-----

Author's note: Please go easy on any scrutinisation of this story. It is the first one that I've written for Halo, and I only know about as much as what's in here. I'm aware that many, if not all of the events in this story are inaccurate, but I'm not very well versed in Halo history, nor do I know much of Master Chief's life, or the SPARTAN-II program.

Oh, by the way, feel free to review! :[|)

PART ONE ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Data gathered from:

( FFN was being stupid with the sites, so add halo dot (.) wikia to the beginning of the names)

1.) Master Chief's life: .com/wiki/John-177 by: Arbitor116, The_Bones_Chief, ONI_recon_111, Spartant_laser, Apocalypter, Mutantclannfear, Badd32, & Kre_%27Nunumee

2.) Augmentation: .com/wiki/SPARTAN-II_Augmentation_Procedures by: Spirit-Of-Halo, Ghostbaren117, Simon_rjh, Heroic_Wolf, Haze_M14, Spartan_921, Subtank, & Major Lucrecio

Special thanks to all those who contributed recently to Halopedia!

-DP-Back2fyooture