Just a quick note from me before we get started on this:

the events of HALO 4 while proper cannon WILL NOT be taken into consideration for this story, it was an idea that came to me before 4 came out, and the events im planing on using are largely invalidated by 4.

also: I OWN NOTHING... i believe that honor goes to Blizzard entertainment and 343Industries respectively.

How many years had it been? Since the chaos, the death, the carnage, the Flood?

The glow of a holo-pad coming online bathed the room in an electric blue. Nothing had changed. The debris from the violent escape still hung lifelessly suspended in the airless and gravity-void space, the only objects in the room that were of any importance were the aforementioned holo-pad and the cryo tube currently inhabited by the sole occupant of the wreck formerly known as the UNSC frigate "Forward Unto Dawn"

The glow of the holo-pad continued to grow as the device came online and the outline of a woman could be seen flickering into life on top of the pad, curled up as if she were asleep. Stretching in an imitation of a human awakening from slumber the glowing woman spoke out. "UNSC AI CTN0452-9 'Cortana' online… alla fine del gioco il re e il pedone tornare alla finestra stessa... at the end of the game, the king and the pawn return to the same box... nostalgic." The woman in question, the artifical intelligence know colliqualy as Cortana, was the longtime partner of the man sleeping in the cryogenic pod sharing the room.

As an artifical intelligence Cortana did not need to 'look around' to see: she technically didn't have any sensory capabilities of her own, so it spoke volumes to the humanity of the 'woman' that for no benefit other than her own satisfaction she acted the part of the human. Gently running her 'fingers' over the frosted cover of the cryo tube that her partner rested in, Cortana's face reflected the emotions that any normal person would have: regret, loss, longing, love. He was her friend, her ally, her protector, her savior and so much more than all of that, he was her SPARTAN.

His name was John, but the tilte the world knew him by was much more impressive.

"Master-Cheif petty officer, SPARTAN-117 UNSC, ONI-SpecWar." And to some he was also know by the more sinister and simple epitaph of The Demon.

And he could single handedly be attributed with the continued survival of the human race within the Milky Way.

Originaly created as part of a black ops program to counter the rising threat of insurgent colonies and rebel factions, John and his 'siblings' were to protect humanity and all of her colonies... by any means necessary.

Then came the Covenant, and a grueling 28 years of genocide and war.

Deceived by their religious leaders, the "Prophets," into a campaign of slaughter and hate, the alien conglomerate known as the "Covenant" waged a rightous war against humanity, claiming that the gods they worshipped declared humans a blight on the galaxy that needed to be removed. This deceit would eventually lead to humanity's salvation. That, and a little fancy gunwork by the Master Chief that is.

The lies spread by the Covenant hierarchy had been rather subtle, a mistranslation of intent lead them to originaly believe that the massive world-like constructs know as "Halo" would lead the faithful into a divine ascencion known as "The Great Journey"

Instead the Halo was a weapon, a weapon of last resort built by a desperate race of people in an unwinnable war against a sentient parasite. Halo was designned to scrub the galaxy clean and deprive the parasite of its food, resulting in a mutualy assured destruction. That food, that source that needed to be scoured, was intelligent life.

And while the Covenant had converted every species of creature that they had come across to date, the Prophets demanded that humanity be purged not because of some grand transgression, but because they knew what the humans were.

In the last days of their war, the creators of the Halo arrays, the "Forerunners," had taken samples of every alien species they could find: plant, animal, sapient, it didnt matter, the forerunners shielded these samples from the effect of the Halo so the galaxy could rebuild after their inevitable destruction. And humanity was to inherit the Forerunners' place as the protectors and shepards of the galaxy.

The Covenant Prophets knew this and whipped their followers into a religious froth, damning humanity simply for existing so that the few who had built their power on lies could hold onto it for a little longer.

In the last years of the war, John was responsible for not only the destruction of one of the halo installations, but the assassination of the prophet known by the name of Regret and had a hand in the death of the leader of the prophets, Truth. While the killing blow didn't belong to the SPARTAN, he was there to see it dealt.

Thel Vadam, once a fleet master of his people and former member of the Covenant had received the title of "Arbiter" as a sentance of penance to atone for his disgrace at failing to stop John from destroying one of the Halo rings when they last crossed paths. When the lies of the Prophets had been exposed, Thel and his brothers-in-arms rose up out of the ignorance their religious leaders espoused and took a stand beside the humans they had previously been slaughtering.

After exposing a portal on Earth that lead to a facility outside of the known galaxy, Truth and his followers found the control center for the Halo arrays, called the 'Ark'. The prophet Truth died there. He had been attempting to ignite the system and send all of his faithful on The Great Journey, but the parasite the Forerunners had fought so hard against followed Truth from their hiding places, and in an effort to contain the parasite John activated an unfinished ring that was being assembled on the Ark. This Halo ring was supposed to replace the one John destroyed previously.

While the ring fired behind them, Thel and John attempted to return to Earth through the portal that Truth had opened, but the power unleashed by the incomplete Halo was still enough to close it prematurely, severing the frigate Forward unto Dawn nearly in half. The forward portion of the ship safely made it throught the portal and back to earth. Thel had been on the bridge strapped into a chair at the time and was safely recovered from the wreck. The Master Cheif however was stuck in the rear portion of the ship, stranding him and Cortana in the absolute blackness of dark space beyond the galactic rim to drift lifelessly.

After setting up a distress beacon and prepping emergency supplies, the last thing John had said before going into cryo sleep was a simple message.

"Wake me when you need me."

That, according to Cortana's internal clock, had been nearly two decades ago.

For most of that time, Cortana had been in a deactivated storage unit, an equivalent to the Cheif's cryo-sleep. In the beginning cortana had held out hope. Hope of rescue, being discovered by a passing ship, anything. She had occupied herself by decompiling, processing and storing all of the data she had aquired from the Halo arrays and the Ark. The run-in that she and the cheif had with the Forerunner AI 'Mendicant Bias' was also a lot to process. But she had time, and now was as good as any to do it. Sorting out her systems had taken her nearly a full year, and she had awaited rescue patiently for another three with nothing other to do than think.

It nearly killed her.

Her encounter with the Gravemind, the vast intelligence connecting the Flood parasites as one, had damaged her and shortened her already short lifespan. The overwhelming amount of data that she aquired from the Forerunner ruins only made this worse. It wasnt that she was going to 'burn out' or die of old age as all organics are fated to, though. No, her life expetancy was limited by the fact that she would literally think herself to death.

As a UNSC 'smart' AI, she possessed the ability to learn, grow and adapt to new situations, and as she did she would make more connections within her neural processor, eventually those connections would grow so convoluted from excess data that she wouldn't be able to do anything aside from think herself in circles, rendering her functionally 'dead.'

During the solitude of her and her partner's unintended exile, she began to feel anger and resentment towards those around her. Dr. Hasley, her 'mother,' Cheif Mendez, the CPO in charge of training 'her' SPARTAN and his siblings, Lord Admiral Hood, the Supreme Commander of all human forces, Captian Jacob Keys, the first CO to command both her and John as a pair, his daughter Commander Miranda Keys, the last human to captain the wreck they were destined to die in, even Master Seargent Avery Johnson, one of the only people that the Chief would recognize as an equal aside from his SPARTAN siblings.

She hated them all.

But throughout it all she never once came to hate John. He had saved her. He kept his promise when she knew that it should have been impossible. He had been there for her when everyone else abandoned her.

And she remembered them all, the memories of the clones used to create her neural network were still with her, as well as the resentment for a life cut short. The anger at her own helplessness, her inability to move beyond this holo-pad and select pieces of equipment, all of the limitations brought about by being an AI infuriated her.

Perhaps worst of all, no matter how hard she tried to control it, the memories wouldn't fade. For her they were as fresh and crisp as the day they were made. Nothing dulled the pain: every bullet the chief felt, every injustice she suffered, every lost battle, every dead marine. None of it faded and it all fueled her rage. She spent nearly a year in impotent rage, wrestling with herself over every decision when she finally asked herself a single profound question.

"Why can't I forget?"

She knew what she was suffering from; the scientists in ONI called it 'Rampancy' and while the logic and knowledge of just what was happening helped her keep some control, it wasn't much. But the question of why she couldn't forget seemed to plague her mind, turning over and over. Finally she turned her attention away from her rage to focus on the question. It was a welcome distraction at the very least.

The answer she finally came to was rather simple: it came down to how her memory and a human's memory worked. She stored data as light within the crystal matrix on her processor and much like a human brain she had a nearly unlimited capacity for storage. Her only limitation was her neural connections.

But humanity and organic life in general had a different way of storing data: chemical-electrical reactions within the brain most people referred to as long and short term memory. She didn't have that. As an AI, all of her knowledge was always at her fingertips. One of the solutions that ONI had tried in the past was for the AI to "cut" the neural connections between data, but this ended up leading to the AI cutting too much, rendering them brain-dead in medical terms, so that wasn't an option.

But the idea of short and long term memory seemed like a viable option to explore and it wasn't like she didn't have time. It took her roughly another full year to come up with a viable option for her memory. Instead of 'severing' the connections between data she would merely 'dull' the connection and attach 'reminders' or 'tags' to the connections, essentially hiding the data and the connection without destroying her network or mind.

While the process slowed down data acquisition and storage TREMENDOUSLY, it also allowed her a theoretically limitless lifespan, and a memory that was just as effective as before. to test the theory she had archived all of the knowledge she gained on all of the forerunner installations, and after successfully storing it, she found that she was that much less burdened by it, and with only a moment search, looking for the 'reminder tag' that she placed upon the data she was able to recall and access the information. She had solved a problem that had stumped programmers for years on her own with almost nothing but her own mind. It was… liberating, perhaps even euphoric.

After the initial elation had died down, Cortana realized that despite her lifespan issue being fixed, it didn't remove her hatred of humanity or the impending madness that it implied, merely dulled it. The damage had already been done. In an effort to prevent her condition from further decaying, she set up a system of dummy programs, designed to constantly send out the S.O.S. signal she and the Chief had set up and to pull her from the storage she intended to go into if anything were to respond or if anything came within sensor range of the wrecked half of the Dawn.

14 years, 115 days, and 12 hours after she put herself into 'storage' and shut down all cognitive processes, something pulled her out.

With the Dawn being fairly cleanly bisected and her and the cryo lab being in the rear portion of the ship, she was effectively blind by comparison to her normal capability. Line-of-sight cameras, LADAR, and a few thermal sensors were all that the aft of the Dawn was equipped with, but still her dummy program had registered something out there...

Cortana wasted no time. "Now then, let's see what we have..."

The image of a mostly brown and red planet greeted Cortana. The visual data she was receiving had come from one of the aft-port cameras, originally intended for navigation and maneuvering purposes. While those cameras could move, their range was limited to a rather restrictive 90-degree turn arc, originally intended to be paired with a forward facing camera on the forward portion of the ship to provide total coverage. With the camera currently at its maximum elevation and the planet only partially in view Cortana knew that it would still take some time to figure out the orbital path of the object in question.

If they were in its path it would be a mixed blessing, and if they weren't it would just be a tortuous tease. The odds of being found on a planet as opposed to floating aimlessly in space were significantly higher. But survival on that planet would require a lot, especially if its coloring was an indication of its environment.

After nearly six hours of observation Cortana found the answer she wanted. The Dawn was indeed in the orbital path of the celestial body. In 190 hours the wreckage of the Dawn would enter the atmosphere of the approaching planet. Without course correction it would fall into an uncontrolled descent onto the surface...

In other words, in just under 8 days the Dawn would crash violently into the planet.

And while the main engines of the of the wreck were still operational, the radiation shielding on the ship couldn't be guaranteed, and most of the navigational thrusters used for minor course corrections worked in matched pairs, one forward and one aft. If she were to try and use those to steer clear of the oncoming planet, there was a very good chance that the thrust would send the Dawn into an unrecoverable spin, making any sort of navigation or course prediction nearly impossible.

Time to wake the Chief...

The systems on the cryo-sleep tubes were surprisingly fast to come online, a lack of other processes and the super-cooled computers helped in this regard. But the Chief himself was much slower to come back. Holding her proverbial breath during the process Cortana desperately searched for any sign of movement from the slumbering legend.

The gradually increasing heartbeat was the first sign of life, the first confirmation that nineteen years in the freezer hadn't killed her partner. As his muscles began reflexively twitching from the renewed neural signals, Cortana knew he was alright. The door on the pod opened slowly, straining against the frost and ice that had formed over the hinges. Cortana could 'see' him now, steeling his body against the natural reaction to expel the Cytoprethaline injected before cryo to prevent ice from forming in the body.

Once the tremors and minor seizures had passed the rough bass voice of the chief called out once.

"Status..."

The voice was like music to the lonely AI, every change in pitch and tone rolled through her mind again and again. She found herself taking joy in simply listening to the voice, and for nearly a full second she didn't process what the chief had asked. When she did, Cortana felt lucky that she couldn't actually blush.

"We seem to be in the orbital path of a nearby planet." The hologram on the pod shrugged before continuing. "We need a plan before I do anything."

Shaking his head to clear some of the lingering effects of the cryo drugs Chief asked succinctly. "Anything like what?"

"Well, there are a few things to consider: first of all is our lack of supplies." Seeing the Chief nod his understanding and the fact that she had his attention Cortana continued.

"Next is the fact that the Dawn is currently on trajectory to run smack dab into an approaching planet. So we need to decide whether to let it happen or get out of the way. And then that in and of itself presents us with even more problems."

Reaching for the data chip in the pedestal, the Chief pulled Cortana from the holo-system and inserted her into the data slot in the back of his helmet. After feeling the familiar icy sensation travel down his spine he heard Cortana continue over his helmet speakers.

"Ya know, it's not nice to interrupt a girl when she is talking Chief... just saying." There was something new in the AI's tone the Master Chief hadn't expected to hear over something so routine between them… annoyance?

Quirking an eyebrow beneath his helmet John tried to steer the conversation back on track. "What problems, Cortana?"

"Oh... Well first off, the main engines... With our fusion plants still online we DO have enough power to provide thrust." John could literally FEEL the qualifier coming with that sentence.

"But..."

Sighing in mock-exasperation Cortana continued to lay out the problems the pair faced. "...But, with the Dawn bisected like this, our radiation shielding is compromised. And no, before you get any crazy ideas, MJOLNIR armor is not rated to block the levels of radiation that frigate-class ships put out. So don't even think about it... Our next problem is our maneuvering thrusters. Normally they operate in pairs on the nose and stern of the ship. With the front half of the pairs missing, firing off enough thrust to get us to safety would put us into a spin that would make ANY kind of navigation or maneuvering in the future impossible."

John wasn't stupid, far from it, and with the enhancements he had received as a SPARTAN-II commando his intellect had only been sharpened, so as Cortana listed the options before him he realized that the only REAL option was to land on the approaching planet. "How long till we reach this planet?"

Cortana knew that her partner's mind was already made up when he asked this. It was how he operated, always was. "Just a little under eight days from now, the Forward Unto Dawn will breach the upper atmosphere of the approaching planet... provided it has an atmosphere comparable to Earth..."

That stopped the SPARTAN in his tracks. "You don't know?" Cortana not knowing something as important as that was a glaring indication that something was very, very wrong.

"No, not for sure at any rate. I only have visual images to go off of at the moment: all of our advanced scanning capabilities were on the 'lost' end of our ship, and any probes we do have I need you to manually load into a dispenser. Let's do that now." Nodding his head now that he had a plan, he was already in motion, a small warning light on his right wrist letting him know that his suits re-breather unit had been damaged and was going to malfunction and was likely to break down within a couple of hours.

Once again expressing himself in the most succinct way possible, the Chief asked his longtime partner, "Does the Dawn have any atmosphere left?"

"Minimal, we still have our compressors, reactors, and life support systems, but most of the ship has hull integrity issues, and leaks air. But I can get the Galley, the berthing and the armory pressurized and habitable for you. Our sensor probes are in the armory anyways. Seems like a good chance for you to take a break and recharge."

Nodding his head as a go-ahead signal the Chief asked again in his clipped manner, "How long will it hold?" Moving towards the specified areas of the ship even as Cortana was speaking the Chief found he had to rethink many of his old habits. With the ship split in two as it was, most of the trans-deck ladder-wells or elevators were missing or at the very least blocked off. But there were paths specifically for emergency use in the aft of the ship, and if this didn't count as an emergency situation, nothing did.

"Well, the life support systems normally provide indefinite climate control and oxygen to the crew and recycles carbon dioxide, but with a lack of crew and all the compromises in the bulkheads, I can get you enough atmosphere for all three spaces for the rest of our trip, provided you remember to close the doors behind you..." Sarcasm had been a staple of the relationship between the SPARTAN and the AI assigned to accompany him for years and it was good to see that even after all the time he had spent in the freezer, even after all the time she had spent alone, this hadn't changed between them.

The rest of the trip down to the armory was spent in the pair's customary silence. The lack of atmosphere prevented even the sound of the Chief's footfalls from echoing. The probes that Cortana needed for a brief survey of the planet were tucked into an airtight hardcase. Normally a Gunners-mate or the ships armorer would be responsible for the care and deployment of the sensor suite, but it was easy enough to do. Even if the Chief hadn't been able to do it on his own, Cortana could walk him through the steps easily enough.

Once the probe was away and the Chief had repaired the re-breather on his helmet, he figured it was time to take stock of his available arsenal.

Before the Dawn had left on its mission through the portal that lead to the Ark, he, Master Sergeant Johnson and the arbiter had commandeered just about every piece of firearms tech, explosives, artillery and any other implement of death or destruction they could lay their respective hands on, and the armory reflected that.

Normally firearms were kept stored and locked within steel vault lockers built into the walls accessible only to the armorer through a biometric scanner on each of the vaults. But now there were pallets of ammunition and cases upon cases of guns tied down to any hard point the three could have found before leaving. The result was a mess and now that the Chief had a moment to sort through it all, he came across a box of equipment he wasnt familiar with.

"Cortana, what am I looking at?"

Since Cortana was in the armor with John the question was easily answered. "Ah! You found one of the crates that Johnson brought on board, now his inane muttering makes sense..." There was an unfamiliar undercurrent of resentment in Cortana's voice, something that surprised the Chief to a frightening degree.

"You haven't answered my question."

"What? Oh! Right... umm it looks like the Sergeant brought a bunch of old armor mods for the Mk. V MJOLNIR system."

"Armor mods? Why havent I heard of these yet?"

"ONI decided that they would be issued to the third generation Spartans according to the files I ripped off of the old lady's computer, the three's were responsible for a good number of tactical victories but they were significantly weaker than you or your siblings."

"Alright, so can I use these?"

"Well, right off the bat I'd say no. Your armor might not be compatible with these mods as is."

"But..."

"...But, I can play with the programming a little to fix that. On the up side, once I get them up and running I am fairly certain that you will be able to carry more than the single mod the Mk. V was limited to."

"Why?"

"Well, your Mk. VI system has more magnetic hard points for mounting or storing gear, and you have me..."

"Alright, so what are our options here?"

"From what I can see, Johnson managed to get his dirty little hands on an active camo mod, you will want that one, as well as a drop shield, hologram generator, armor lock-down generator, a sprint override package, and an evade protocol package. I think I also see the edge of a jump pack in there too."

"Explain a few of them to me."

"Alright Chief, which ones?"

"Armor lock-down, the hologram, evade, and sprint."

"Not a problem, the armor lock-down generator works on a similar principle to your own lock-down procedure, the armor essentially becomes a solid piece of titanium A, but unlike your systems, the generator also provides a massive over-shield for a small amount of time."

"Why?"

"Come on Chief, if you had a system like this you can't honestly tell me that even YOU wouldn't have laughed watching Tartarus gravity hammer bounce off of you harmlessly..."

"It's that strong?"

"Specs actually put the over-shield at the same absorption rating that we found on the 'Unyielding Hierophant'"

"The Covenant capitol ship that we hijacked?"

"The same."

"How long would the shield last once activated?"

"About six seconds before needing a twenty second recharge."

"Hmm... and the other mods?"

"Well the hologram projects exactly what it sounds like, a hologram, it will run forward once activated, useful for minor distraction tactics but not much else. As for the Sprint override... remember how fast Kelly was?"

"Of course."

"You could be too for a short burst."

"Hmm... and the evade package?"

"This one is actually really interesting even to me... once active three things happen in REALLY quick succession: first is an armor override, the evade package will actually forcibly activate the force multiplying systems in your armor and move you before even YOU could react to a threat. As that happens, a minor active camo system will activate for about three seconds, and in conjunction with that, a hologram will activate at your last position prior to activating the protocol."

"Not bad."

"So any thoughts on what you want to use?"

"Yeah, Active Camo, Drop Shield, and the Evade Package."

"Right, I'll get to work modifying them; for now go ahead and mount them on a hard point. I'll give you a heads up when the mod is available. So what are you going to do with the rest of them?"

"For now, leave them. When we leave I'll think about packing them along. What equipment packages do we have available?"

"Pretty much all of them, but there is a minor issue."

"Oh?"

"The armor mods we are reprogramming are going to be housed on the same hard points you would have used for equipment packages. If you want to carry both, it's going to affect how many weapons you can carry."

"Understood."

After the armory was thoroughly sorted and organized for quicker access at a later point, the Chief and his ethereal companion made their way down to the galley for a quick meal.

When the Chief finished, he made his was to the berthings for his first taste of R&R that he had in over thirty years. Five days of nothing to do but eat, sleep and work nearly drove the veteran insane. He was reminded more than once that Cortana had gone through YEARS of this boredom before she woke him up.

After settling into a semi-routine, the days passed quickly enough. Supplies were packed into a Pelican drop-ship, the excess was locked down and stored in hard-cases, bulkheads were patched and sealed, and the wreckage of the Dawn was prepared as much as the pair could make it for its eventual uncontrolled decent onto the nameless planet below.

The fifth day since Cortana had awoken the Master Chief brought an unwelcome surprise that neither of the pair was ready for. With her sensor probes still operational and in orbit around the planet, Cortana received a rather detailed scan of a fleet of vessels approaching. The construction was unlike anything she had seen before, Covenant and Forerunner design included. Fifty sleek gold and blue colored, tri-armed vessels were taking up positions around the planet. As they were moving into position one of the vessels was moving towards the wreckage of the Dawn.

As the pair watched the camera footage full of trepidation, the communications system picked up a transmission and crackled to life. "En taro Adun, This is Executor Tassadar, of the flagship Grantrithor. Your message of distress has been received and our vessel is moving to assist. Teams of Zealots will be boarding shortly."

The voice coming over the comms system had a completely otherworldly quality about it, the tone was deep and rich, but there was a resonance to the voice, as if the speaker was in a metal room and the reverberation was distorting the sound. "Cortana, do you recognize the name of that ship? Or it's Design?"

A small window came into focus in the top left hand side of the chief's visor, displaying an image rendering of Cortana, shaking her head in the negative in the display she vocalized her opinions on the chiefs speaker system. "No, none of the ONI data I have has any classification of ship matching that profile, and 'Grantrithor' conforms to none of the naming conventions from prior covenant encounters. But we have been out of the picture for almost two decades; it is entirely possible that there has been an update to Shangheili fleet design, and they did mention sending a team of Zealots over. Still best not to take any chances, there are still covenant loyalists out there the last that we knew of."

"Right" nodding his head as he moved towards the armory the master chief was already going over his preferred load-out in a close in situation.

'Its close quarters so the SRS 99C-S2 AM/B is out…. But the M90-CAWS is a definite must. An M6D is a good backup, and one of Thel's type 1 blades would make a good compliment. Four Type-1AP and four M9-HE grenades and I should be set…'

"Finished planning how to kill our allies yet?" the smug confidence on Cortana's face was plain to see.

"Yes, actually." There was no surprise in the chief's voice, but Cortana had a habit of following quips like this with important intell.

"Well, that's good, now get to it, we have unfamiliar guests." The image displayed in her little picture box on the chiefs HUD, the image of a squad of golden armored pale skinned aliens coming aboard the Dawn greeted him, security cameras had been activated throughout the interior of the wreck for Cortana's benefit. And now it was paying dividends. There were three squads of aliens boarding at different locations on the wrecked end of the dawn. A total of nine different aliens in similar armor came through before Cortana cut the feed.

"Those don't look like any Zealots that I've ever seen before Chief." Cortana's running commentary of the footage only served to reinforce what the Master-Chief already knew. An unknown alien force was boarding the wreckage of the Dawn. UNSC protocol dictated that the Chief attempt to repel all unknown boarders. And for most of his life UNSC protocol and doctrine had guided his every action. But now the Chief was in an unusual situation, the vessel he was aboard was a wreck, no two ways about it. The only REAL salvageable tech was the fusion plants, some of the micro-fabrication equipment,

And the slip-space engine. AND to top it all off if these aliens weren't members of the covenant then he found himself stranded in a possible 'first contact' scenario. The only clear guideline that the Chief had to work with at this point was to keep Cortana OUT of alien hands, and he would have done that regardless.

The resolution he came to was a fairly simple one 'play it by ear' walk in with the gun out, if it goes south, shoot first apologize to ONI latter, If necessary avoid further contact and set the reactors to go critical. It wasn't a new plan by any means, but it was a good one.

With that in mind the chief started making his way down the corridors of the wrecked Dawn, scanning his sectors and carefully maneuvering around corners. And while he did trust that the motion sensors on his armor were still functional, the wreckage of the dawn was still EM, hardened. Meaning his sensors were pretty much line of sight or a little better. And while the multiple vision modes his helmet provided him with gave him a comprehensive check of the area, he only trusted the tech so far, the lessons to rely on himself rather than his gear had been drilled into him DEEP, at a very young age.

Finnaly his tracker picked up a hit, a single red icon at the edge of his limited range.

He saw the icon at about the same time he could make it out visually though. A deeper shadow amongst the black of the hallway, when the shadow burst into light, illuminated by a pair of glowing blades VERY similar to how the Type-1 energy blade looked the Chief decided that this was NOT a friendly contact.

The 8 gauge shotgun he had in his hands had a tube fed magazine containing 8 shells. With one additional in the chamber, for a hot combat load of 9 rounds. With his enhanced reflexes and speed, he could fire the pump action weapon at a nearly semi-automatic rate.

The light of the energy blades illuminating the hallway was accompanied by the quick staccato of three shotgun shells being fired in rapid succession and the sound of the pellets ricocheting off of every bulkhead.

Normally the shotgun would only have an effective range of about 20 – 25 meters. But when your opponent was at the other end of a hallway you didn't really have to be in 'effective' range to cause damage.

Twenty four lead pellets met with unexpected resistance however, and flared the lighting in the hallway even more. Confirming at least two things the Elites, and these mystery aliens had in common. A love of both plasma blades and shields.

"DAMMIT! Chief at this range the shotgun isn't going to penetrate that shield. Gonna have to get closer!" Cortana seemed about as enthusiastic about that prospect as the chief was himself. But he knew she was right. So pumping the action on his weapon and readying another shell the chief stepped forward towards his opponent.

His opponent obviously using melee weapons wasn't going to hold still forever. Vocalizing once "MY LIFE FOR AIUR!" He sprang forward at terrifying speeds, rivaling the fastest of any Sangheili blade master.

While his opponents charge was not unexpected the speed of it was, between the Chief stalking forward for a better shot, and his opponent going into a blitz style charge the distance between the combatants disappeared nearly instantly. The shotgun discharged and the electric blue of his opponents shield lit the corridor once more highlighting his opponent in greater detail.

The pale flesh was tight against a large skull, with a pair of burning blue eyes, like pits of raw energy, devoid of pupil or iris sitting within a mouth-less, nose-less, ear-less face, that had a vaguely human bone structure.

Finishing his charge the enemy brought one of his bladed weapons down to slash at the chief, he saw the strike coming, and was able to get his shotgun in the way of it blocking the strike, but he knew it wouldn't last long.

"Fear not Terran, I will make your death painless, SUBMIT TO PURIFICATION!"

The voice that came from his enemy echoed in the recesses of the Chiefs mind in a way that disturbingly reminded him of the Gravemind it seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere all at once. And it carried the rage of a berserker.

Emphasizing his statement of 'purification' the pale berserker brought his other weapon up and caught the blocking firearm in a scissors move, bisecting the gun in a similar manner to the ship it was on.

The chief saw it coming, and had already abandoned the gun by the time the swing was in motion; dropping his firing hand down to his side he had the M6D in his hand and on target before the gun came above his waist.

*BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG*

Five shots rang out in quick succession, and by the time the fifth had left the barrel the chief had the gun up at eye level and grasped in both hands ready for most anything his opponent could do. But his focus on the fight in front of him, and his lack of motion tracker betrayed him. One of the damaged wall panels exploded out of its shaky mooring on the bulkhead, and slammed into the chief with all the fury of a raging bull behind it. An errant swing from his second opponent deprived him of his pistol as well.

'Shit… good thing I brought grenades to a blade fight.'

Rolling backwards out from the paneling and back down the hallway the way he came, Chief found himself in a wider portion of the passage. Meant for crewmen to have slightly more room the passage would allow the Chief to swing the Type-1 much more freely.

Performing a handspring as he came out of his roll in an effort to get to his feet, the chief drew two things. The handle for his energy sword strapped to his left thigh, and one of the plasma grenades on his right hip. Hitting the activation buttons for both of them the sound of glass breaking that accompanied the activation of an energy sword was noticeable as was the telltale ghostly blue flames from the plasma grenade.

Throwing the grenade with precision that an Olympian could only dream of, both the grenade and the chief landed at the same time.

Sticking to the golden armor of the enemy that broke through the wall, the slight delay on the grenade was enough for the chief to see a look of concern on his face before the explosion flattened him. A combination of his armor and shields kept the warrior from being obliterated, but he was down… and not getting back up, for chief's purposes at the moment that was good enough.

Shifting his stance, Chief readied himself for close in combat, blade to blade. Some of his least favorite. But his original opponent seemed confused by this.

"Terran, you wish to duel me? A templar of the Khala?"

Piping up for the first time since the combat had started Cortana felt the need to throw in her two cents. "Chief, if this guy thinks you want an honor duel, accept it, if my guess is right it should even out our odds, and we are about to be at a significant firepower disadvantage."

"Yes" nodding his head both to Cortana, and his opponent, the chief heard a vaguely familiar voice come from the hole recently opened in the wall.

"Then as the Executor of the exploratory fleet I shall officiate this." The alien that walked through afterwards HAD to be some kind of leader or nobility. The armor he wore was almost ostentatious in the level of detail worked into it, adding to the effect was the cloth shawl wrapped over his shoulders and head hanging down his chest almost to his knees. Runes and symbols were tailored across its entire length, runes that Cortana was intimately familiar with.

"Chief, those hieroglyph's are forerunner." For the pair of earthlings, this was somewhat of a disturbing revelation. Not even the prophet 'Truth' had worn the forerunner language on his robes. From what limited conversation John had with the Arbiter, he and Cortana had come to the conclusion that it was considered a blasphemy to do so. Both minds came to the same conclusion, one barely slower than the other.

'Not Covenant.'

so now that that is done, see potential or anything you need to talk about or gripe about? feel free to review or drop me a line.