Chapter One: What's Old is New Again
"For the hundredth time, Six that just sounds stupid," Emile said, folding his arms as he glared down at the terminal. Noble Six was shown on the screen, and he looked tired. All three of the Spartans did. "And it just doesn't make any sense, either."
On screen, Six shook his head and rubbed his tired eyes. He was on a transport on its way to Earth since he had somehow managed to get some time off. "No, my idea was much better. Yours...yours is just old-fashioned. You need to think outside the box." He was trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn't disturb the rest of the Marines on the Pelican, most of which were asleep. "Hell, you need to think in general."
Emile scoffed. "You're an asshole, you know that?" He looked over his shoulder at the Master Chief, who was relaxing on his cot, about to fall asleep. Chief and Cortana had been in debriefings all day over the whole Halo incident, and Chief was wiped out. Funny how several days of non-stop combat won't tire a Spartan, but a single day of meetings with high-ranking officers will wipe one out.
"Hey, Chief, who's right?" Emile asked, "Me or Six?"
Chief groaned. "I'm not getting into this argument again. I thought my idea was pretty decent, but you guys shot that down fast." He rolled over so he faced toward the stale gray wall. "But if I have to answer the question...neither of you."
The pedestal next to the terminals illuminated in a blue light, and Cortana appeared, looking slightly annoyed. Emile looked at her for a moment, noticing that in spite of the scowl on her face, she looked different. "You've changed," he commented. "You're more...pink, than I remember."
She nodded. "Yes, I altered my avatar slightly; that purple wasn't that appealing anymore. And I "grew" my hair out longer." Cortana spread her arms wide. "But don't I look better than before?"
"Yeah, I never cared much before, and I don't care much now," Emile replied. "But we need an unbiased opinion on a debate right now. Hopefully, you'll be able to oblige."
Cortana shrugged. "I doubt it. If this is still that whole stupid debate about what Six is going to be bringing back from Earth, for lunch, next week, then I want no part of it. Honestly, I thought you guys would act more serious."
Emile huffed at her remarks. "Serious? This is serious." He nodded to Chief. "Chief says he wants hamburgers. I want pizza. Six is for fried chicken, even though it's probably some cloned, genetically altered shit that tastes fake."
Cortana glared at John. "I assume that you're wanting me to take your side in this right?"
"Well, you are my AI. So, it wouldn't hurt," Chief replied, without looking up.
"Just because we were paired together doesn't mean we have to agree with each other."
"I thought you'd say that," Chief muttered.
"First question," Cortana said, turning back to Emile. "Why are you sticking to the old American cuisine? Where's the culture? Why not grab something more...edible? There's tons of places all over Earth that Six could get food from."
Emile nodded. "Yes, there are. But he's not going all over the world. He's just going to help Ashley set up in her new place, and then spend some time with her. Which isn't fair, because Chief and I did most of the work on Halo. All Six did was get hurt."
"If you want to argue with someone about it, take it up with ONI," Cortana said. "They're the ones that requested leave for him and Ashley." She smiled to herself for almost no apparent reason. "And we all know that ONI likes to pamper Six. He's their little experiment."
"Yeah," Emile replied, voice rising slightly in defense. "And I'm getting sick and tired of all that."
Cortana wasn't sure, but she thought she detected some jealousy in Emile's eyes. "Don't worry about it," Cortana reassured him, "when you think about it literally, that mean Six is simply a lab rat."
Emile thought it over, and eventually just agreed with her. "Yeah, we'll go with that. Anyway, you had further questions? About our lunch debate?"
"Right." Cortana motioned to the door. "Why not just eat in the mess hall, like usual? The food there's probably better than anything Six'll bring back, and I hear that there's going to be non-cloned meat in there today. That should taste good."
"You're seeing it all wrong," Emile told her. "You're an AI, so you're simply thinking about taste. There's a lot more to food than taste."
"Oh, here were go," groaned Chief, covering his head with the pillow to drown out Emile's voice.
"First there's quality," Emile said, counting off on his hand. "Then there's style, then taste, and last but not least, quantity."
Cortana stared blankly at him. "Okay...I'm just going to leave before you go any farther." She turned to the comm screen, where Six was watching the whole scene quietly. "Are you going to tell me yet?" Cortana asked, referring to the golden band, possibly a wedding ring, she saw on Six's ring finger after they narrowly escaped Halo.
Six sighed. "That's the third time you asked today," he complained, casting a quick glance to the side as a Marine mumbled something about flowers while in a drunken sleep. "My answer remains the same. No. Quit asking me. And leave it the hell alone." With that, he cut the comm, leaving them staring at a blank screen.
Cortana was caught off guard by Six's reaction. She did constantly pester him about it, even though she was smart enough to figure it all out. She just wanted to hear it from his own mouth.
"And my question remains the same," Emile said, flopping down on his cot. "What the hell was that all about? You two've been going at it for days, and no one's filling me in. Seriously, what's up?"
The AI hesitated for a second. Should she tell him, and hopefully then Six would spill the beans when they ganged up on him? Or should she just keep it a secret and let it slide for a while. She went with the second option.
"...it's none of your concern," Cortana answered, and then left with a simple flicker.
Emile stared at the roof as the room went silent again. He sighed in boredom. Nothing ever happened around here. The most exciting thing that had happened was getting here.
"Hey, Chief?"
Chief groaned. He was so close to being asleep, and Emile just had to ruin it. "What is it?"
"When are we getting our new armor?"
"They're being prepared right now, so...probably any time now."
Emile nodded. That was good. At least he had something to look forward to. None of them had any idea as to what they were going to do next. His best guess was that things would go back to normal. Running around on human planets, shooting at the Covenant, and then pulling out as the planet was lost. Ah, the good old days.
"Listen up ladies," boomed the Pelican pilot's voice over the intercom. "We're touching down in ten minutes at Nassau Station. Once we're there, everyone needs to get their asses off since this is the last run of my shift. Is that clear?"
Apparently, the Spartans weren't the only ones who were exhausted today. After a few mumbled yes sirs, the Pelican was silent again.
Six looked down at the red-haired woman resting her head on his shoulder. It had been a long ride, and she needed somewhere to take a nap. So, Six offered his shoulder. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, knowing that it would drive her crazy. "You didn't really think about it that much."
"There wasn't much to think about," Ashley replied. "I got out of all of this, and now I can live a nice normal life of a civilian. No more running around on our planets, shooting at the Covenant, and then pulling out when we lost. Those days are over. I'm moving on to soap operas and gossiping with friends."
Six rolled his eyes. He doubted that Ashley would make any friends. Not that she wasn't social, but considering that she was easily taller than most people. That was an intimidating factor, and people would probably avoid her.
"Well, what about him?" Six asked, knowing that he was hitting a weak spot on Ashley. "What about your son?"
Ashley lifted her head off of his shoulder, and glared at him with a look that would've sent even the hardest of ODSTs running for cover. "What about him?"
Six shrugged. "I don't know. Shouldn't you do something for him, or something like that? You're his mother, for crying out loud. Don't you feel the need to help?"
"I might have, if the the first time I saw him wasn't a few days ago," she answered. "But no. I never saw him until you dragged him along behind you that one time. The minute I gave birth to him, ONI swoops in, takes him away, and then I'm slapped back into combat the following day. It was back to business as usual."
By now, most of the Marines on the Pelican that were sober were watching the conversation, and slowly sliding away from the two Spartans in case a full on fight broke out.
"Nineteen years pass by," Ashley went on, folding her arms and refusing to look at Six, "I forgot all about him, which was perfectly fine since I never cared for him anyway. Life went on, and he was just a faint memory that I wish never happened."
"But, Ash," Six protested, "he's still your child. Nothing's going to change that. All you have to do is just accept that and get on with your life. I'm not asking you to take care of him or anything. All I'm asking is that you at least show some care to your offspring."
Ashley turned her head and glared at him with an icy stare. "No. We're Spartans. We're not some dumb civilian with all of those lovey-dovey emotions. Those just make us weak." She paused. "Those bastards took everything from us when they made us what we are."
"They gave you a choice," Six reminded her, putting his hand on her shoulder. She wriggled free of it instantly. "You could've just turned away, and lived a normal life like everyone else. You didn't have to become a Spartan."
"You don't understand, Six," Ashley told him, with a shake of her head. "My parents, my brother, my grandparents, my entire family had just been killed. I had no idea what to think or do; I was only ten. I lost all I had and gave up my humanity that day."
Six shook his head. "Not all of it. We may be made to kill, but we're still people too."
The Pelican shuddered as it touched down, and the pilot came back on the intercom. "We've landed. Now get your asses out of my ship, right now." The back hatch creaked open, lowering down and provided the passengers with a ramp out. Marines bolted from their seats, retreating to a safe distance from the fight.
"Normal people look at us and see heroes, saviors," Six went on, rising from his seat. "They look up to us, they respect us."
Ashley scoffed. "We're just freaks to the them." She grabbed her bags, all of them, and stormed off the Pelican. "And you yourself called them normal people," she said, turning back to Six. "That just means that you don't believe anything you just said."
Six watched as she left, tossing her bags into the trunk of her rental luxury car, and driving off. "There goes my week," he muttered, walking back up to the pilot. Without her, he had no reason to even be on the planet. "Hey, when are you heading back up?" he asked the agitated Pelican pilot.
The pilot only groaned and dropped his face on the controls. "Look, I've been running people up and down all day. This flight made my seventh today. I'm tired and angry, and I'm going home. You'll just have to find someone else." He climbed out of his seat, and left.
Six sighed. "Great. Fortunately, I happen to know someone who's good at flying Pelicans," he said to himself, as he climbed up into the pilot's seat. But before he fired up the engines, he squinted in the direction that Ashley's car had gone, and he swore he could still make it out in the far distance. His heart was filled with pain, well-knowing that his relationship with her just took a steep dive, and probably never would go back to the way it used to be.
He looked down at his hand, and the small golden ring on it. "Things won't ever go back to being the same," he told himself, pulling it off and tossing it to the ground.
Tallert looked over the mess hall, noticing the new recruits gathering around in groups, wide-eyed and scared, while the veteran Marines calmly ate as they sized up the recruits. His eyes scanned over the room, hoping to find his two friends.
He smiled as he saw them sitting at their usual table in the corner. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized, sitting down with them. "I hope I didn't miss anything."
Private Jesse Gomez shook his head. "Nah, nothing's really happened. These new guys are getting the feel of Marine life," he said, nodding toward the recruits. "Man, Sergeant Miller's going to eat them alive."
Corporal Gary Burgoff nodded. "Yeah, but at least they didn't get Johnson or Stacker. They'd put them through hell about six times a day."
"Wait, Miller got the promotion?" Tallert asked, distress on his face. "That's not fair. I had to drag his sorry ass around when he got wounded that one time. And the worst part was when he stole my girl away from me."
Gary and Jesse shot each other a quick glance. "Dude, Karrie doesn't like you, and she probably never will," Jesse told him. "We've told you that a thousand times, and you've never gotten through that your head yet.
"I still can't believe he got promoted," Tallert muttered, ignoring what his friend had said. "That just adds to my bad day. Already, I've had to clean the squads guns, clean the squads quarters, and I just got back from Earth. I had to..." he trailed off, pulling the metal dogtags from his pocket. "I had to tell Anna and Sarah what happened."
"Who?"
"Wiersbe's wife and daughter," Tallert explained with a heavy sigh. He had lost his best friend early on during the fight on the ring. He and his old pal Wiersbe had been through training together, and fought together during the last days of Reach. "She said that they already knew that he wasn't coming home, but they still took it hard."
Gary snickered. "I bet they like taking it hard."
"That's not even funny," Jesse scolded, shooting a sharp glance. "They just lost the man of the house. You shouldn't be making any jokes."
"Oh come on, you had to think it was funny."
"I didn't."
Tallert shook his head, stashing the dogtags back into his pocket. "That wasn't funny, that was just downright inappropriate."
Jesse seemed to remember something just then, because he suddenly perked up. "Oh, hey Tallert, there's been some rumors going around about you. People have claimed that your real mother was a Spartan. Is that true?"
"Well, yes and no," Tallert replied. "She is my biological mother, but I don't really care for her. She didn't raise me. I was raised by some nice people who took real good care of me." His mind was filled with memories of his childhood, everything from his first crush in second grade from the time he broke his arm in high school. His parents were always there for him, even if it inconvenienced them. What had that Spartan done for him? Nothing. "I don't even give a damn about that Spartan."
