Prologue
"Chief. . ." A word; a phrase. A rank.
A name.
John-117, hero of the entire human race, awoke to total darkness.
"Chief. Please, wake up." The female voice, so desperately familiar, pleaded with him to return to waking consciousness. John obliged and finally put a name to the voice. It's melodic, friendly, feminine tone that could easily become fierce and iron-hard to the point where it outdid his rasping one became instantly recognizable.
"Cortana." A flat statement to the regular human ear, but to the Artificial Intelligence, a burst of emotional relief of being alive.
"Finally. About time you woke up, you dunderhead. Had me worried that you might have finally cracked open that genetically enhanced skull of yours." Her voice belied the immense worry that had been eating away at her circuits. The Master Chief felt some guilt at having caused his A.I. companion great distress, but having been trained as a Spartan all his life, quickly dealt aside the feeling. It would cloud his judgment and distract him from what was important.
Surviving. Winning the fight.
But, the Chief still was human. "No thanks to your driving, I might add", he said dryly, and gave a reassuring pat on his head (meant for Cortana).
He felt her smile at the friendly gesture.
John activated his helmet's lights and surveyed his surroundings. There was no light except for his helmet's, and that didn't even do much but to provide some murky visibility. His lights illuminated the hull of a ship, gray and lifeless.
And then it hit him. Halo.
"Cortana – what happened?"
"Halo fired", she simply replied.
A memory of a searing flash of light, and the sound of screaming metal crashed into his thoughts like a tsunami; the Spartan shook his head to be rid of the terrible event. As usual, John's amazingly good luck had pulled them through once more. They had survived the ancient weapon's destructive power.
The Chief recalled their ally, the Arbiter. He asked Cortana of the Elite's whereabouts.
"I'm sorry Chief, but I'm not really sure. My scans indicate that he's not here with us. I think he was able to make the jump, but. . ."
"But without leaving something behind. Let me guess. The ship broke in half."
"Yes", was Cortana's level reply.
"And we were unlucky enough to be on the half left behind."
"Right again." Cortana's voice had become flat and lifeless. Robotic.
The Chief sighed. It was an uncommon outburst of emotion from him – and showed just how tired he really was.
"I'm sorry, John. I really am." Cortana had never used his name before, and it revealed how deep she had become attached to him. The Spartan and the A.I. shared a bond deeper than most married couples would never be able to forge in a lifetime, thanks to the harrowing experiences they had shared together. They had seemed an unlikely pair at first, but inseparable once they had begun trusting each other.
"It's okay. We'll find a way out. We always do." An Assault Rifle floated by in the weightless space, and the Chief grabbed it. Checking the clip to make sure it was full, he pushed off the hull with his MJOLNIR armored legs and began to float his way forward, making his way through the silent bowels of the wrecked ship.
Back on Earth. . .
Petty Officer First Class Sam Thompson was on graveyard duty. Again.
He hated graveyard duty. Sitting at a station, staring at a holographic screen which would track any incoming ships or objects heading toward Earth's atmosphere and register them as colored blips. Blue for friendly, yellow for unknown, and red for enemy. It was an extremely important job, and there was usually only one person available at a time to do it. The UNSC forces had been devastated by the Human-Covenant war and the numbers remaining were tiny. Humanity was stretched thin; but alive nonetheless. Hanging on to the edge.
Admiral Lord Hood hadn't tried to make the position sound interesting. While being briefed, Admiral Hood stated to Thompson quite bluntly, "Son, I'm not going to bull-crap you. It's boring as hell. But someone has to do it." He eyed Thompson with the seasoned look of a war veteran. "You're a brave man. You seen action, son?"
Thompson replied nervously, "Only some, sir. I served with the Chief before he went MIA."
"Ah. I see." Admiral Hood seemed to consider something. "So you believe the Master Chief is still out there somewhere? Alive?" he asked skeptically.
Thompson's reply was firm and unhesitant. "Of course I do, sir. Everyone I know believes that he's out there, still hanging on like the rest of us."
Admiral Hood nodded, still unsure. "What makes you think that?"
"He once told me during his last mission, that he would never give up while humanity still needed him to fight. We still need him, sir. Quite badly, I think, with the peace between us and the Covenant being so fragile."
Lord Hood turned around and placed his hands behind his back, staring off into nothing. "Couldn't have stated it better myself, Thompson."
The Admiral clapped a hand on Thompson's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Smiling widely he said, "Thank you, Sam. You just got yourself a well-earned promotion."
Thompson was puzzled. "For what, sir?"
"For convincing me to put my faith back into the lucky bastard. He survived two Halos'; what's one more? What you just said has added a second objective to your mission, making it all the more crucial in our effort for galactic peace."
"Second objective? Sir?" Thompson was still bewildered.
"Yes. I want you to keep an eye out for the Master Chief, for when he comes back."
Thompson swallowed as he faced the sudden magnitude of his assignment. "How – how will I know it's him, sir?"
Admiral Hood chuckled dryly. "Oh, trust me; you'll know. The Chief always likes to make an entrance, wherever he goes."
At last, the Chief found what he was searching for. A cryogenic tube where he could take shelter and rest up for whatever lied ahead. He placed the Assault Rifle into a weapon rack right next to the tube, and began to slide inside.
Cortana had been reluctant about the whole plan. But in the end, it was all they had. The Chief couldn't stay in space forever – his suit had a limited supply of oxygen. Better asleep, than dead in the void of space.
But still, Cortana did not like it.
"Chief, there's got to be something else I can do. Just floating around, helpless, sending a distress signal in the middle of unknown space isn't the best plan we've come up with yet." Her eyes glowed red for a moment, temporarily exposing her fury at the feeling of being helpless. The concept of being helpless was foreign to her, and she could not accept that fact that they truly were powerless to change their fate.
"Do you have another idea?" The Chief was fatigued, and was in no mood to bicker with Cortana about other escape plans.
"Yes. Perhaps I could route some excess power to the engines and fashion some sort of crude steering device and get us the hell out of here." She sounded confident, almost arrogantly so.
"Where are you going to get the extra power? The generators were ripped apart in the explosion, and even if we could find a way to repair them, there wouldn't be enough to power the Dawn's engines." The Chief didn't like being the bearer of bad news, but reality was reality, no matter how hard you tried to defy it. Sometimes you just had to go with the flow of things and hope for the best.
Cortana was silent.
Then, after what seemed to be an eternity, she spoke. Quietly, barely a whisper, she said, "I'm going to miss you, John. I mean that as a friend."
A friend. Cortana was the closest thing he had to a friend; Sergeant Johnson had died on Halo after the traitorous monitor Guilty Spark zapped him in the back with a sentinel beam. Cortana was all he had left now.
He replied, "Wake me – if you need me."
The door slid shut over his armored body, and John-117 finally got the rest he deserved. Cortana wiped away holographic tears. Her body had taken on a weak shade of pale blue, implying the pent-up volatile mix of emotions that was surging through her emotional circuitry. The female A.I. hastily shut the overworked circuits down. She would need total concentration for the task ahead.
Regaining her composure, she began to utter a single line over and over as per UNSC protocol:
"Mayday, Mayday, this is UNSC A.I. Cortana onboard the ship Forward Unto Dawn; I have Spartan-117 with me. Our ship was severely damaged after the firing of the Halo ring while attempting to escape and we need immediate rescue. I repeat, this is UNSC A.I. Cortana onboard the ship Forward Unto Dawn; I have Spartan 117 with me. Our ship was severely damaged after the firing of the Halo ring while attempting to escape and we need immediate rescue. . ."
Cortana's voice echoed into the dark recesses of space bouncing off meteorites and planets, reaching far beyond the stars and finally being heard by a strange object floating in a region far from normal space. Shaped like a sphere, it was old – older than the humans, or the Covenant, or even the Forerunners themselves.
It was called the Precursor Sphere; and after having slept for millennia it had finally began to stir once more, its ancient gears whirring to life.
The Forerunners weren't the only ones who left toys behind.
The Precursor Sphere let out an unearthly groan as though it was alive. Cortana's message came through once more, thick with static but audible: "Mayday, Mayday, this is UNSC A.I. Cortana onboard the ship Forward Unto Dawn: I have Spartan-117 with me. Our ship was severely damaged after the firing of the Halo ring while attempting to escape and we need immediate rescue. . ."
The Sphere groaned once more and unseen engines began to power up. The Sphere moved slowly, gradually toward its ultimate objective.
The destruction of all Forerunners.
2 Years Later. . .
Chief Petty Officer Sam Thompson sat once more at his post, and wearily watched the holographic monitor once more. No blips. No nothing. Just infinite space and an aching need to get a new job. But Admiral Lord Hood's talk with him from two years ago still persisted viciously in his mind, and he endured the boredom chewing away at his thinning patience.
Besides he had volunteered for the assignment anyway; and he still believed that the Master Chief was still out there somewhere. Hanging on, despite the fact that it had been two long years since any contact with the lost Spartan.
Chief Thompson rubbed his scraggly beard that he had been neglecting to shave for a couple days. Why bother? It was just him down there.
"Are your rubbing that goddamn beard again? It's not a magic lamp, you know; no genie will come out if you rub it three times", said an annoyingly sweet voice.
Well, just him and the A.I. companion – Penelope.
A short, blond haired, blue-eyed woman traipsed into the room.
Thompson scowled. "Penelope, aren't you supposed to be recharging?"
"Nah. This body doesn't need a recharge for another couple days, remember? New issue." The woman patted herself on the chest, smiling widely all the while. Thompson found the smile almost obscene.
His feelings must have been conveyed onto his face, because Penelope stopped suddenly and began to frown. "You never want to have any fun, Sam", she pouted. "That's what I'm here for; to keep you entertained and give you some company so that you don't go nuts in this little cave of yours."
Penelope batted her eyes seductively, and winked at Thompson. "You know my offer from last night still stands. I'm always here if you need me – I can provide for your physical needs as well."
"I'm married, Penelope."
"She'll never know."
Shaking his head, Thompson returned his gaze to the holographic monitor, holding a steaming mug of hot coffee (recently synthesized) in his hand.
His jaw dropped.
Yelping, he jumped up and grabbed Penelope.
She seemed confused at first, and then began to smile coyly. "My, you changed your mind fast."
Ignoring the quip, he gave Penelope the order that had been burned into his memory whenever something entered his monitor. "Penelope, this is a Code Alpha – we have an unidentified object hurtling towards Earth's atmosphere. Contact Admiral Hood right now!"
"Unidentified?" Penelope strolled toward the monitor, suddenly business-like. Code and data streamed down her eyes, giving them an eerie glowing quality. Her lips were a blur as she transmitted all the data into her neural circuits and stored it somewhere safe.
A second later she finished. Turning toward Thompson she asked, in a whisper, "You think it could be him?"
Thompson grinned for the first time in two years. "Of course it's him. Who else could make an entrance like that?"
Still uncertain, but obeying the order nonetheless, Penelope disappeared into another room and began the process of contacting Admiral Hood. Thompson stayed at his post, his heart beating madly. It was the Chief, he knew it was. That gut feeling had kept him alive before, and he trusted it with his life, just like he trusted it now. It hadn't failed him before.
Fiddling with the monitor he tried to pick up something, anything from the rapidly descending ship – and abruptly, a voice broke through the static. Feminine – and desperate.
"Mayday, Mayday, this is UNSC A.I. Cortana onboard the ship Forward Unto Dawn; I have Spartan-117 with me. Our ship was severely damaged after the firing of Halo, and we are rapidly approaching Earth with no way to control our descent! We need instant rescue! Can anyone here me?!"
Thompson barely managed to secure a line to the A.I. "Cortana, this Chief Petty Officer Sam Thompson here. Help is on the way, I repeat, help is on the way." He could barely contain the excitement in his voice. The Master Chief was alive!
"Thompson is it? Thank God, it's been ages since I've heard a proper human voice. It's good to be home, soldier!"
Another voice cut in, and for one heart-stopping moment, Thompson felt time freeze. The voice was instantly familiar; definitely male, iron-hard, and rasping. The Master Chief. Spartan-117, the savior of the human race.
"Cut the chatter, Cortana. We're not out of this yet."
Almost yelling into the communication channel, Thompson near shouted, "Chief?! Is that you?!"
If they heard him, he couldn't tell. The conversation resumed, uninterrupted, and Cortana replied, "Ah, I see Sleeping Beauty's awake. What the hell took you so long? I was banging on your door for at least an hour and a half!"
"I noticed the ship was burning."
"Oh, gee, you think?" Cortana's voice was dripping with unveiled sarcasm. "It's about damn time you woke up and got that shiny metal ass out of that tube."
The Chief replied in kind. "No thanks to your driving, I might add." Thompson drilled a finger into each of his ears to check his hearing. Seeing that nothing was obstructing his eardrum, he couldn't believe it. Did the Master Chief just use humor? He didn't know Spartans had a sense of humor, let alone crack a sarcastic quip like that. It was actually somewhat funny.
Cortana made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. "Good to have you back, Chief. I've missed you."
The Master Chief didn't verbally acknowledge her affection, but Thompson could imagine him nodding all the same.
"Any idea how we're going to get out of this one, Spartan?" Cortana asked rather cheerfully.
"Yeah. We jump."
Silence.
"Run that by me again; you want to jump." Her voice had a heavy sardonic ring to it. "Does that MJOLNIR suit have any wings installed on it recently? Yeah, I didn't think so. Tell me Spartan, did you ever hear the tale of Icarus and his magical flying wings? 'Cause you're about to pull the same stunt here. With the same results."
"We time the jump. Once the ship burns through most of the atmosphere –"
"In one piece that is. Assuming."
"-we jump and allow the suit to take most of the impact. I've done this before. Without your help, I might add."
"Your suit is still heavily damaged from all the fighting from the previous two Halo installations. If the atmosphere doesn't cook you up from traveling at such an absurd speed, then the rock solid ground you're going to collide with is going to definitely finish off what's left of you; the shock to your body would scramble your guts for as far as the eye could see. Chief, it's crazy."
Thompson would have agreed, but he had lost connection momentarily. Penelope was still in the other room, hurriedly briefing a recently awakened Admiral Hood on the situation.
"You have any other suggestions?"
"Unfortunately for both us, I like crazy. I chose you after all."
"I thought it was for luck."
"Craziness and luck are two things closely intertwined, Chief. You should know that better than anyone."
Thompson returned to the conversation, having regained the signal and was distracted by the banter between the Chief and Cortana as they laid out their rather impetuous plan, while Thompson tried to provide any assistance needed. If he hadn't been preoccupied though, he would have noticed on the holographic monitor that something else was heading toward Earth. It was another unknown foreign object. It wasn't of any Forerunner, Human, or Covenant design, though. It looked old – terribly old and ancient.
And another weird thing.
It was shaped like a sphere.
Illuminated Pen here. This isn't my first time writing for I assure you, dear reader, I've contributed works here before. But I had a kind of falling out with my writing skills (my stories were becoming bizarre and strange to the point where I sometimes wonder if I was taking any drugs at the time I was typing them) and gave up. Bad idea. So I started anew with a different pen name and a new story; Halo! I hope you like it (and yes, I do own Halo 3; excellent game). Read and review!