Without War

Chapter 1: End's Meat

"John… John!" a heavy set man roared sitting at a counter of a supermarket. "What the hell kinda' place do you think this is?"

Master Chief came out from the back room with a light green apron over his MJOLNIR Mark VI armor, "The Elysium City Shopping Centre… sir" he responded while clenching his hand angrily.

"Listen here, big shot. We don't slack around here, this isn't the USCN anymore!"

"It's UNCS."

"Shut it Chief!" the man shouted, grabbing a mop and jamming it into Master Chief's arms, "I definitely don't have time for your wise-ass crap, and you've got some mopping to do in aisle 6. So get going! Oh yea, and I never want to see you lazing around again, you got it?"

As the man walked away, all Master Chief could do was grind the pole of the mop between his hands, "How did my destiny take me to this place… Oh yea…"

"My how the times change. Eh, Chief?" he heard Cortana echo from his head.

"Yea I know. It's just the world's kind way of thanking me for saving it," he mumbled as he pinched the apron over his armor in a presenting fashion.

"Way to be bitter, Chief."

"You haven't seen me bitter."

"Demon," the Arbiter asked him approaching from behind, "It is your turn to sanitize passageway number six; I had done many of the other already. For the sake of your responsibility, and for the sake of mine, I urge you to comply with our leader's commands to take care of it already."

"Look here" Chief said seeming uncharacteristically irritated, "That man will never be my leader, not in this lifetime. Second, you need to cool it down with all that sophisticated talk." He straightened up and pointed into the Arbiter's emotionless face, "I feel like I'm talking to a cyborg sometimes with you."

"But Demon… are you not you a cyborg yourself?"

"Yea you're one to talk," Cortana interjected to Chief.

He stared back through his visor motionless for a moment before responding to both of them, "That's beside the point. It just gives me more bases for my argument, a cyborg such as myself being less uptight that you are!" He looked up slightly, "and you, Cortana, I definitely don't need your two cents too."

"I do not understand your logic, Demon, what is wrong with my colloquial speech patterns?"

Master Chief grumbled feeling a little drained from trying to find an explanation for his oblivious alien ally. "I don't even know where to start really. You just need to pick smaller words, or maybe take what would be 5 words to you, and compress it into one word people would actually understand."

"So… I am verbose?"

"Yea, you're… that, too many complicated words."

"Ah I see. Understood, Demon."

"And stop calling me 'demon' already. It's been years since we've allied up against the Overmind already. I figured the year it took to find me floating in space would more than enough time for you to forget the nick name you and your ugly buddies had for me."

"Oh, agreed then, and my apologies Jonathan."

Chief sighed, "For some reason, I feel like that's even worse."

"I don't know, I kinda like it Chief, Jonathan has a nice ring to it," Cortana teased.

"Hey, you two better be talking about the difference between detergent products in aisle six, because if you're not, then you better move along and get to work!" the same bossy overweight manager shouted from his open office, not too far from the pair.

The Arbiter glanced over to the boss in acknowledgement and looked back at Master Chief to bluntly grumble, "What a primitive chimpanzee he is."

"Yea, I know what you mean. Just imagine how it feels to know you're in the same species as that guy."

"I grieve for for you, Demon… I mean… Jonathan."

"Do you mind calling me Chief, or John or something?"

"What is wrong with Jonathan? That is your true name is it not?"

"Yea it would be if I was a loser, which I'm not" Chief grunted lunging is finger into the Arbiter's face.

"Once again, your reasoning…"

"…is not making any sense blah-blah-blah, that's nice Arbie," Chief interrupted.

"…Arbie?" he responded, turning his head to the side slightly in a perplexed manner.

"Yea, you big guy," Chief reassured him, patting him on his shoulder, "Now come along and let's get this done, I don't feel like getting chewed out by that ball of fat again."

The Arbiter grunted in frustration, with both his duties and with Master Chief's new ludicrous nick name. "Understood, let us go then."

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Aisle 6 was excessively wider than most of the others, and stank of medical creams and lotions as well as plastic products. All along the floor were open bottles, smears, spills, and piles of dirt, all down the stretch of the shelves. The Chief and Arbiter stood still at the far end, staring blankly down the aisle in frozen disbelief.

"Wow," Master Chief blurted out.

"This is quite the atrocity," the Arbiter stated as he stepped forward looking left and right.

"Well," Chief muttered in disappointment, "I guess we should get to work…"

"Were it so easy, Johnathan," the Arbiter said stepping past him slowly.

Master Chief stood tall and looked over to him sternly, "I need a weapon."

The Arbiter stopped and turned back to him, staring at Chief blankly feeling no need to say anything about what he was thinking.

Chief sighed, "I mean…a mop…"

The Arbiter grabbed two mops leaned against the shelves of the aisle, and passed one to the demoralized Master Chief. "It is most unpleasant for me to notice that you still choose to live in the past. The time of war has moved on," he told him as he mopped near his feel casually.

"I'm aware," Chief scoffed as he began furiously mopping the floor, "What tells me that is I'm not getting that tingle in my hand to want to take a battle rifle and shoot you in the face anymore, it's so disappointing for me it really is."

"I can relate to you Jonathan. As I, now lack the urge to detach your head from your body as I had done before."

Master Chief stopped and looked up in disbelief, "Wow, you actually wanted to detach my head?"

"I wouldn't have minded it, it's one of the many ideas I had for you."

"Sheesh… Sorry to disappoint you there, Arbie," he responded picking up some empty spilled lotion bottles from the floor. "Who the hell buys this stuff anymore, anyways?"

"It's just a precaution, Chief. Some people still feel comfortable using anti-flood creams and ointments," Cortana explained abruptly.

"Yea, a bunch of crazy people, maybe." And upon finishing his statement, he noticed the Arbiter using the remaining lotion on his long neck. Chief dropped his head in disappointment, "Psh… That's a case in point right there."

"What?" the Arbiter questioned, pausing his motions.

"Nothing, big man, just continue pampering yourself before your skin starts to peel."

Looking around at the cream on his hand, he then came to the realization of Chief's cheap shot to his actions and threw his arms to his side and the bottle down to the ground. "Do you mock me, Demon?!" he roared perceptively, throwing his mop off to the side.

"Oh relax, there's nothing wrong with rubbing lotion all over your body to avoid an extinct alien race… Oh… wait."

"Your sarcasm does not amuse me," he growled as he stepped up into Chief's face.

"Hey, hey, ladies, pipe down here," their obese boss shouts as he bumbles his way towards them, "The war is over, alright? I don't want a bunch of war-mongers causing any problems for me in my store."

"See, look what you did now, Arbie."

"Hold your tongue, Demon, before I cut it from your mouth."

"Hey, you're like a pair of children! Christ!" the boss shouted throwing his arms up in frustration. "I don't need my two most gargantuan employees bickering in an aisle full of beauty products, scaring away the customers. I need you both to get cleaning this filthy mess, and do it now!"

The Arbiter bent down and retrieved his mop, grunting to himself as Master Chief turned away silently and continue to plow all the mess along the shelves into a small overflowing pile.

"That's right, you better get to work you two wise-guys. I'm keeping my eyes on you," the boss snarled as he walked away irritably around the corner of the aisle

"Good move, Chief, don't get us into unnecessary trouble."

"Quiet Cortana," Chief whispered in response, "I don't need you lecturing me today. You've been giving me the same heat every day since the UNCS threw me out on the curb."

"Well Chief, if someone didn't always have to sleep when not fighting in an expensively maintained cryogenic chamber…"

"Oh c'mon, I was trained for combat, what else was I going to do in the mean time?"

"…and if you didn't destroy every ship you've been a part of…!"

"The Pillar of Autumn and the Dawn were doomed anyways! Not to mention the new ships are way better…"

"What ever Chief, but maybe if you did without all those times you trashed talked during Gravball games before you got banned from the UNCS league, the commanding officers wouldn't be so offended by your existence."

Chief paused a moment before straightening up in pride, "Well… I can't help it if I dominate all of them in Gravball, you know. Maybe if they were any good, they could talk a little them selves."

"Chief… Listen… without the UNCS, you've got to keep it cool! We need to keep this job to make end's meat! Fighting with the Arbiter over stupid things will just get you fired. This place doesn't need a 6'9, one-ton SPARTAN in his supermarket so you definitely can't mess around."

"Yea, I know, lecture over. I know what you mean," he muttered somberly, slumping down as he mopped as if he was disappointed in some fashion.

As Chief wallowed in his self-pity, the Arbiter nervously stepped up behind him, taking a moment to build the poise to say anything, "Demon, if we split the work to be done down the middle, we both would be finished with these duties far quicker."

Master Chief looked up at the Arbiter standing idly gripping tightly to his mop, and straightened himself, "Yes, that sounds like a plan. I'll manage the left side of the aisle then."

"Excellent, this job will be far more bearable now for us both now, thank you Demon."

"Hey," Chief muttered before the Arbiter turned away, "I never thought I'd be so lucky to have your ugly face around here, Arbie."

The Arbiter looked back apparently surprised by the statement made about him. Looking slightly flattered, the Arbiter took a few steps to situate himself, "Well, I have much to owe you, Demon. During our conquest with the Overmind, the Prophets, and with getting me these duties her in this 'shopping center' as you humans call it. So in a way, I am glad to be allied with you once again as well."

Master Chief stopped mopping to look up and lean against the shelves, "Yea… that's one of those rare times where something you say makes sense there."

"I do not follow, have you not been able understand what I articulate Demon?"

Chief sighed, "No it's not that… Just never mind buddy," he stated shaking his head in frustration. "…and since when am I the 'demon' again?"

"You are a Demon," the Arbiter responded quickly and bluntly, "You always will be a Demon too, because your existence to me serves as one of doubt. Every time I'm encouraged to follow you, I feel like my judgment is being clouded from the righteous and secure path in my life. That keeps you as a demon in my eyes, Jonathan."

Master Chief looked back in shock, "Ouch. Glad to be a light in your life there, Arbie."

"…as I am to be an ally in yours, Demon."

The two nodded to one another in agreement as they continued to mop the floors on their respective sides. "Looks like you two have become surprisingly good friends, Chief," Cortana said happily.

"I guess you could say that, it's not a bad thought."

"Hey biatches!"

The abrupt and high pitched voice drew the two to cease their cleaning and look behind them at the end of the aisle. There straight ahead of them was open space! …and right below that same open space was the small form of a Covenant Grunt, who was standing confidently with his arms on his tiny hips. Both of their heads dropped down to lock onto the short grunt, when began walking up to them quietly and haughtily.

Chief had enough of the suspense and enough of the cocky little alien in front of him. So thusly, he decided that he was the best one to break the silence, "Who the hell are you?"