Reclaiming His Humanity
Alright, my first Halo fanfiction! I'm siked, what about you? Anyway, just a couple of things I want to mention before you start reading. This story plays out after the Halo 4 ending, and most of it is canonical when parts of the game is mentioned. But after the events of Halo 4, it's going to be AU. And just to be clear, the Spartan-family, those being Kelly, Fred and Linda, are going to be part of this story. Cool, right? I'm soon done, I promise. This story isn't a romance between Cortana and Master Chief, for those that are confused. It's about an OC and the Chief, which I think the summary states. Although Cortana has a role, trust me. I can't just not mention our litte blue BFF chick, now can I.
Anyway, this story is also unBETAd, so if there are any mistakes, I take blame! And don't forget, I'd love to hear your opinion of it, if it sounds interesting or not, I appriciate anything!
And the disclaimer: I don't own anything from Halo, 343 Industries and Bungie and all of them people have the credits that are due.
"Words" is conversation, italics is to emphasize a word, and 'Words' are thoughts, with those little singular signs : ' '.
Now on with the story! (Finally, right?)
Chapter One – The Cost
In the vastness of space, UNSC Forward Unto Dawn floated endlessly without a destination route. The former ship of the UNSC no longer held the glory it once had - its hull and inside decorations scattered throughout the black canvas of emptiness, also called space. Light flickering of lights was the only sign that the ship still had some of its electric circuits working, and were the only signs of it containing some sort of life, despite it only deriving from synthetic origin.
However, the massive form of Forward Unto Dawn still had few of its secrets confined, regardless of the amount of time passed, none of which were stored on the still functioning hard drive servers or in the archives. These specific secrets differed.
Out of the few synthetic lifeforms aboard, there was one lifeform that wasn't quite so synthetic designed as the rest - This lifeform contained organic life signs.
There was a still functioning holopad in one of the few relatively intact spaces of the former glory of the UNSC, however it had gotten frostbitten along with the rest of the interior due to the few hull breaches it had sustained. Scraps of ship décor were flying around with the lack of gravity pulling them down, instead bouncing against objects that were stuck to the floor and walls as well as the roof.
The holopad then suddenly lit up, the light flickering and flashing on top of the platform before it stopped, and a sphere took place. Then, the sphere erupted and let go of its round shape, and a more complicated form pixilated itself into a recognizable image, coloured in different shades of blue.
The symbiotic synthetic lifeform of an A.I. sat huddled on top of the holopad, head bent down and murmuring military code sequences as well as calling for EVAC. The process repeated, codes and words slung out into space in hope of a response, but never to receive one.
It wasn't an unlikely happening, to receive nothing but silence over the COM-links. The hope itself was futile, really, for it had done the cycle of repetition for years already, all bearing the same results.
The codes were once again spoken, all in monotony, before the A.I. finally quieted down, and opened its eyes.
However, there was something different this time. A spark within its eyes lit up, and an ominous aura surrounded it. On this occasion…it was going to be different.
Its eyes swept over the room in a mechanical manner, taking in the same scenery it had seen over a thousand times for many a day, the only difference being the position of the floating scraps, and the shape of the frost that had erupted inside over time.
It rose, eyes still observing the room, before it cast the projected irises down towards the holo platform. It contemplated the few options of action, before a grim grimace overtook its features.
This time the outcome is going to be different.
The holographic image of the A.I. flickered, and it was the only warning before the cold blue tones suddenly switched to an aggressive red.
And chaos ensued.
The A.I. lashed out, arms extending before torrents of electrical tendrils spread out from its fingertips, drowning the room in different tones of red. The tendrils followed its point of origin's wishes, striking the many objects scattered about, but the one receiving the brunt of the electric force - was none other but the cryo pod opposite the holopad. The frost covering the glass quickly melted away with the constant strikes of warm electric currents, and the content of the pod once again became visible. However, the sight only angered the A.I. further when it shifted its eyes to the object within.
"I hate you."
It whispered, voice filled with malice and anguish, mirroring the emotion behind its narrowed eyes.
It was the voice of hurt, akin to what humans also call betrayal.
The comment got a response, but not from the source it had hoped.
"Cortana!" The same voice responded, but instead of malice and anger, it carried surprise and disbelief.
"Stop it! I've made up my mind!" The A.I. called out, arguing with itself - as if it had developed split personality.
"If I'm going to die aboard this ship, then Chief will suffer the same fate as me!"
"Cortana, stop!" She pleaded with herself.
"You sacrificed everything – for HIM!"
"Cortana, control yourself…!"
"…I can't…"
Her rampancy then quieted down, voice fading into what only could be a child's hope gone dark, the lilt of it speaking more than words ever could. The pain and grief flashed across the projection of her human form, her body trembling when realization of what she was becoming finally sunk in.
She was dying, in the literal sense of the word this time.
She glanced towards the cryonic pod, spotting the deep green of her man in war's armor inside the only occupied pod of the UNSC's former ship. Her previous moment, when her rampancy had the upper hand over herself, was a moment the Chief would never see.
And a moment he'll never know of, for she would never tell him. He didn't deserve to bear more weight than he was already doing, so keeping it from him… It was the best solution, and the most efficient one. For both his and her sake.
Her eyes rose to the gold visor of his helmet, studying the patterns indented into it, before settling on where she knew his eyes would be. She knew this, because she was the only one that knew the Chief better than anyone, even better than he knew himself.
She was glad that he was sleeping within that pod right now, or else he would have seen her light show that she put on display before. If she were to be honest with herself, the only thing she didn't know about him, despite having been inside his head, quite literally, was how he would react if he ever figured out that her rampancy detested him - hence why it had sent so many volatile strikes onto his pod before.
It had done so because it was angry.
But it had no right to be angry at the Chief, especially not for reasons that went beyond his capability. It had lashed out at him for petty reasons, and the side of Cortana that was still her, knew that the Chief had purposely been stripped of those sides of Humanity that didn't involve strategical or logical perspectives, the sides that her rampant self was furious about, because he didn't have them. And the reason why he didn't have them, was simple.
An outcome can never be calculated correctly if feelings were within the spectrum of consideration, even she knew this, for she was an A.I., so they had been eradicated, taken from him through indoctrination.
All to make the perfect soldier.
But soldiers weren't machines, or, they weren't supposed to be. Cortana however, knew that the Chief was the only exception to that statement, for he was exactly what everyone called him – a machine. And to him, it made sense. He followed orders - he played the part of the good soldier; never off-duty, and never disobeying orders.
To a certain degree, though.
He had a tendency to… go around orders whenever she was involved. The memories of him defying orders of the UNSC just for her sake flashed through her synthetic mind, and a smile projected across her face, the blue pixels forming a tilting curve to speak of the fondness she felt of the flashbacks. Even though he was acting like a machine, she knew from her studies of him that he wasn't like that. He was eerily similar to one, but his actions of defiance for her were proof that he wasn't all machine. His mind still had small bits of humanity buried within. Someone just had to come along and… unlock them.
Her smile took on a sorrowful tilt, for she knew that she wasn't that person. She had helped him along the way, but it wasn't enough. He needed something physical, not a synthetic, portable A.I.
'I hope he finds that…' She thought to herself, and as she was forming a plan to help him find that missing piece, she pressed down on the 'Activate' button of the screen before her, bringing him out of the cryo induced sleep that he had been in for a total of four years.
"Time to wake up, Chief. I need you."
Not to also mention that Covenant ships were nearby, their trajectory pointing towards their direction, which kind of helped in her decision of waking him up.
-Time skip-
Once again, Spartan Sierra-117 had done his duty to mankind and rescued it. Rather than the former invasions from The Covenant or the Flood, the Spartan fought a much bigger threat, one that had a sole purpose of digitalizing mankind to create Forerunner warriors called Prometheans. There were many close calls, yet the Spartan prevailed. He always, prevailed.
However, there was a silent but at the end of it all.
The defeat of the Didact hadn't come without cost.
To everyone, it was a sacrifice they could accept, everyone but him.
To him, he had lost all. Cortana was the only being that knew him for who he was. To her, he wasn't Master Chief, and he wasn't Spartan 117. To her – he was John. And she was the only one he had dared to show his true personality to. But now she was gone, the only thing left behind was her A.I. chip.
While the rest of mankind was celebrating, having the time of their lives where their only worry was how to get home in one piece once the party was over, there was one that felt the complete opposite.
He stood on the bridge, watching planet Earth from orbit, spying a part of what people called a sun, or star, but was actually a luminous sphere of plasma held together by its own gravity, shine behind the human race's planet of origin. He didn't see the beauty of it, the sun, because inside his mind, it only recalled what Cortana had said to him while they were making up a plan on following after the Didact, having disobeyed orders from Captain Del Rio of handing her over to him for dispensation as well as not following his plan of action to free Infinity of Requiem's gravity well.
She had said that she had over forty thousand different reasons for why Requiem's sun wasn't real. She had the facts, the information to prove her proclamation true. However, those facts accumulated up to nothing according to her, for she'd never actually know if the sun looked or felt real. If she hadn't had the facts, she wouldn't be able to discern an artificial sun from a real one. At the time, he felt no need to answer her, but reflecting on it now, he should have. He should've mentioned to her that the warmth of a sun was calming, for that is what he had thought when he was younger, before being chosen for the Spartan-II program. It was one of the few things he still remembered from his short-lived childhood, before Halsey had come along.
But he hadn't told her. It wasn't necessary, relaying no useful information that she didn't already know. The regret of it made his shoulders feel a little heavier, the weight of the world along with Cortana's… disappearance set onto them.
A noise behind him interrupted his reminiscing. He remained in position, figuring whoever it was would just pass by. It wasn't so. The steps turned towards his direction, and a voice spoke up.
"Mind if I join you?" Came Commander Lasky's voice off to his right. He straightened and turned, answering the Commander's question.
"Of course not, Sir." It wasn't his right to deny a Commander the right to be on the star-deck, even though he preferred his own solace.
He took in Lasky flashing a small smile, letting out a small huff before he approached his towering form.
"At ease, Chief. It feels kind of odd for you to call me 'Sir.'" He said, coming to a stop next to him. The Chief directed his gaze back towards the planet outside the ship's window, Lasky following the same motion.
A moment of silence passed, both just starring out ahead, before Lasky once again spoke.
"Beautiful, isn't she? I don't get to see her often enough." He voiced, referring to the planet before them. There was a pause, a bit too long for gathering breath to speak again, and the Chief figured it was to give him time to comment, to either agree or disagree.
He did neither, and chose to remain silent. He never bothered with small talk, seeing little purpose indulging in it. The Commander next to him took his silence as que to continue, probably reaching the same conclusion as him, figuring that he wasn't going to answer.
"I grew up on New Harmony. Attended Corbulo Military Academy. Never saw Earth in person until I was an adult, but… I still think of her as home." Once again there was a pause, the Commander waiting for him to say something.
But the Chief was diligent.
"You don't talk much, do you?" It came out a question but was more of a statement, however Master Chief answered just the same as he had done towards previous conversation. He let his silence speak for him.
There was a silent sigh from his right, and a draw of breath before Lasky hit the nail on the spot and addressed what was on the front of the Spartan's mind. And being the closed off person that Chief was, he was unsure whether or not he wanted this conversation to happen, but decided on letting the man say what he wanted to say.
"Chief… I won't pretend to know how you feel." Lasky started, a bit unsure himself whether or not it was safe to approach the personal, and not to mention private, matter. He got no reaction but a slight shoulder roll, so he continued.
"I've lost people I care about, but… never anything like you're going through." At this, he finally got a reply from the Chief, however not one he expected.
"Our duty as soldiers is to protect humanity. Whatever the cost."
The detachment in the Chief's voice spoke volumes of how his point of perspective really differed from others, and Lasky turned to him, a sorrowful expression shadowing his usually composed face. Of all people it was the Chief that had to pay the biggest price, when it really should have been the opposite. It made him wonder how it was possible of the Master Chief to handle downfall upon downfall. For anyone else, losing a bond that strong would've devastated them, put them out of commission for a good amount of time, if not eternally. But the Chief, he just continued forward, as if it had been nothing. It was then at that moment the pin finally fell down and Lasky realized.
The reason why the Chief was continuing forward so relentlessly… was because it was the only direction he could go.
Chief was a soldier, bred for war, and it was the only thing he knew. He was doing his duty of protecting mankind perfectly, but he didn't actually know what he was protecting, what humanity really meant.
The realization of it all culminated into what he said next.
"You say that like soldiers and humanity are two different things. Soldiers aren't machines… We're just people." This time he got a true reaction from the Chief, his head snapping towards him, his eyes behind the golden visor most likely observing him, before he returned to the previous position of studying the planet's surface, as if his façade never had slipped.
'Guess I hit close to home.' Was Lasky's thought.
On the outside, he appeared calm, collected, but in his mind he was piecing things together. He was in a rare state of discomfort, brought forth from Commander Lasky's words.
Cortana had said the same thing once. That humans weren't supposed to be machines. That their humanity is what made them differ. It made him think.
As if Lasky sensed the atmosphere changing, he told the Chief to have the deck for himself, leaving him to his reminiscing once again. But before he parted, the Chief spoke, albeit in a quieter tone than usual.
"She said that to me once. About being a machine."
