I'm actually wondering what people are going to think of this chapter. Got a few new OCs in here, two mentioned and one you actually see. I should warn you...he's not what you'd really expect, but he has a reason for it. Read the not at the bottom for more info.

Enjoy

MIRANDA

I'm not jealous.

I refuse to even consider it.

I cannot be jealous…of a computer program.

And yet, as I hover over this snow covered land, on this alien installation, being careful to avoid scarabs as they fall from the sky, I'm ashamed to find my mind focusing on a far less important question then the matter at hand:

What does that AI Have that I don't?

I'm not jealous. I am furious with myself that my irritated mind was even thinking about it, especially when the gunner in the back is counting on me not to get us killed by that annoyingly powerful beam weapon mounted on the front.

I realise I can't help it though. I'm worried about him.

Somewhere, down below, a man I promised to help after the war is fighting amidst a entire army while trying not to get stepped on. I don't want him to die, but I don't want to lose him to a series of electrical impulses either.

It sounds so stupid when I think about it.

I will admit, Cortana is attractive. Not attractive to me, but certainty attractive enough to get more then one fresh-out-of-the-academy ensign to walk into a bulkhead while staring if Johnson's stories are anything to go by. I guess it doesn't help that she looks likes she's naked either. I've seen male AI's with a similar virtual avatar before, like Malcolm of the Door To The Stars. Never heard any stories about him turning any heads though. Maybe it's because he was never programmed with a…

I think I'm straying a bit here.

My point is, Cortana is a Smart AI, and like all other AIs, she's just a computer program. One, I am sad to say, may very well die soon.

Even if we do get to her in time.

Peering over the edge of the cockpit canopy, I strain my eyes as I think I see a glint of MJOLNIR green against the snow, running at full pace towards an on coming ghost, a small smile gracing my lips as I see the crumpled grey form of some poor grunt go flying across the frosted land as his stolen vehicle takes off towards one of the scarabs.

I often wonder what John would do if he found Cortana too late.

I'll never the sound of his voice when he realised all he'd recovered from that Flood infested cruiser near Voi was a message. He sounded so sad, so despondent. Emotion is something he tends to keep out of his voice, and even now, a full day after we set out here, that tone echoes through my mind.

I wanted to change it. I had too.

So I stood up for him.

I felt completely torn.

On the one hand, Earth, now partially glassed, may still have Flood that escaped the glassing of Voi. I won't even think about the remaining Covenant forces that got left behind.

But on the other is this Spartan, a man who puts so much faith in a program that everyone knows was beginning to show signs of Rampancy, even before all this business with halos and forerunners began.

My military side screamed at me to be silent. To follow Lord Hood's orders to the letter. Our homeworld was in danger, and I was sworn to protect it.

But my human side told me to stand by John, this man, who promised me that my bloodline would continue, a man I cared about deeply, even though I had never seen his face.

So I made a choice.

The right one, even if he feels nothing for me.

Which is always most likely, given what we've made him to be.

The perfect soldier.

"Daydreaming again are we?"

I scowl darkly as I steady the pelican as a amused voice causes me to jump, my dark eyes glowering up into the gold faceplate of a much older MJOLNIR helmet as my supposed gunner seems to stare into my very heart from his position at the door.

Spartan Petty Officer Third Class Daniel-068 is something of a black sheep amongst his fellow brethren, and something of an enigma to me.

Unlike his brothers and sisters, he's been known to disobey direct orders from anyone he doesn't like, and isn't very good at hiding his feelings either, ready to voice his dislike of a mission objective or a superior officer to his or her (usually his) face without even batting an eye.

As such, from what I've heard, while many Spartans spent the last twenty seven years protecting Earth and her colonies from the Covenant and other nasty things the galaxy likes to throw at us, Daniel has spent most of his time inside a cryo-tube, which might explain why at forty two he has the complexion of twenty-five year old.

His area of expertise is short range weaponry like the shotgun, not really useful unless you plan to go into heavy Flood infested areas these days, which may be another reason for his extended time on ice.

He seems to hold a resentment for the UNSC for some reason, something to do with his drafting into the Spartan-II project, but I'm not certain, and I don't really want to ask about such an obviously touchy area

What I do know is that prior to my father's contact with the first Halo, he had been listed as MIA after the battle of Reach, only to appear several days before John in a forerunner ship, with a monitor of all things as his companion.

Sixteen-eight-zero-seven Charlatan Forge is the female voiced Monitor of Installation 06, and far more of a ditz then the nutcase her brother Spark appears to be. The only time that green eyed orb is seen without 068 is when she's hacking computers with Spark, something they've been doing a lot since we reach The Ark.

Due to his long absence however, this Spartan wears Mark V armour rather then John's Mark VI.

I guess I should be grateful, seeing as when they're both silent, I probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

"I thought I told you to man the rear gun," I give him a angry glare over my shoulder as he eases himself into the chair behind me

"You did," his voice cracks slightly as the hiss of air signals the breaking of his helmet's pressure seal, "But it's kinda hard to shoot stuff when that last hit took out your weapon,"

"Oh," a pang of guilt runs through my blood as I look up into his unmasked face, my eyes taking in his dark blond hair, just that little bit over regulation length, pale features, and dark oceanic blue eyes as he gazes nonchalantly over the tactical interface in front of him, hooking a small tactical display headset over his ear, "Sorry,"

"I don't want to tell you your job Ma'am, but you really should focus on the job at hand,"

The guilt quickly fades and is replaced once more with anger as I return my gaze stonily ahead as he primes the Pelican's missile salvos.

"You didn't have to come you know. You'd probably been of a lot more help to John or the Arbiter,"

"I wasn't aware you were on first name terms with John,"

My blood turns cold at the lazy tone of voice, my wide eyes turning back slowly to lock with his as he gazes down at me with a cold smile.

"What are you suggesting Spartan?" My eyes narrow at him darkly, "Can't a superior officer refer to a man under her command by his first name? Maybe I don't like calling him Chief all the time,"

"But undermining is it?" Daniel chuckled to himself as his own orbs dart across the targeting system a few inches in front of his iris, "I suppose I can see the logic behind that. Calling him The Chief all the time…sounds kind of superior to Commander doesn't it?"

The pelican rocked as her salvo of Anvil missiles spewed forth from their launchers towards the rear, the giant purple machine screaming out as though in pain as it's legs begin to buckle under the weight as it's power core was hit.

"What I call him and what other people decide to call him isn't your concern," There are times when I really hate this man. His lax attitude gave good honest Spartans like John a bad name, and the risks he like to take, like that stunt he just pulled that could of hurt the dozen odd marines that currently circled the now dying scarab, disgusted me. How he ever even got into the program was beyond me.

For a moment, silence reigned in the cockpit, the only sounds coming from the hum of machinery and the sudden detonation of the scarab below.

It was only when I turned back to the battle at hand though, that his noticeably softer voice dropped a bombshell larger then anything a Halo could produce.

"I can see why he likes you,"

The Pelican almost crashed.

"You know, I often hear people ask what Spartans really fight for," I didn't need to turn around to know is eyes were trying to burn a hole through the back of my skull, "I mean, when you ask someone, anyone, most will say we fight for the defence of humanity. The protection of our blue world and her colonies and the like. The more bloody-minded say we fight for revenge for every planet the Covenant have glassed. Some even say we fight because we're simply cold blooded killing machines. No one ever thinks to ask a Spartan why he or she fights,"

The was a shift of armour as 068 shifted from his seat, coming behind my chair, his head so close to my ear I could feel his breath tickle against my neck as I felt his heavy hand on my shoulder. I could see him staring at me now, his eyes serious and set, his features ever calm as I continued to stare at the on going battle below.

When he spoke, his voice was completely calm, a image of an early foggy morning, with dew still covering the grass coming to mind, "So, the question remains, what does a Spartan fight for? Is it humanity? No. Earth perhaps? No. Surely the UNSC? Try again. Say what you will about us, but vengeance is not something we tally in, and if we had been given the chance, I very much doubt that any of us would kill just for the fun of it. So why do we fight then? Do you want to know the secret?"

I felt a breath catch in my throat as he leaned in close to my ear, a chill going down my spine as his voice is lowered to barely a whisper.

"We fight for each other,"

My eyes widened as he stood up straight in the cockpit, our eyes locking as the sounds of battle seem strangely quiet in my ears.

"When the Spartan-II first began, their were a hundred and fifty of us. By the end of training, there were only thirty three, and now, from what I know, me and John could very well be the last two. If there was one thing we learned, it's that in the long run, the only people we can rely on is each other. Oh we make friends with Marines, and occasionally our superiors, but there were just friends and acquaintances. Only a Spartan can truly understand a Spartan. When others look at us, they only see that," he indicated to his helmet, lying discarded by the Co-pilot console, "They see a faceless, emotionless hero. They see a person that could very well lay down his or her life for the sake of humanity, whose only cause for life is that others can live out their lives like normal people. Now, I'm not saying that we wouldn't, because we would, but believe it or not, A Spartan does feel pain. We can even care for someone, just not in the same way you do. We care for each other, I think some of us may even love each other," he smiled at my raised eyebrow, "We keep it well hidden. We have too. But as our numbers dwindled, we had to find others to fight for. Me, I fight for Kelly-087, be it for her memory or for her spirit, but John…" The Spartan smile grew, "He fights for you. I can safely say he would give his life if it insured yours. To him, your as much a Spartan as he is…although granted you're a whole lot shorter," he chuckled as I scowled darkly at him, "My point is, John cares for you. More then a Spartan should for his superior. You are now his driving force in this war. Cortana is cute, I'll grant you that, but John knows the difference between man and machine. He may be willing to go into the depths of some Flood infested ship to retrieve her, but trust me when I say he would gladly go into the pits of Hell to retrieve you if he had too. You're the reason he fights. To see you again is his reason for carrying on no matter the cost. You're his aide to help him take down brutes like that,"

As if on cue, the second Scarab exploded in a fiery show of bright blue light and purple shrapnel, the remaining Covenant forces scattering across the snowy plains as Daniel's words slowly sunk in.

This was why 068 was such a mystery to me. One minute he was a complete bastard, the next he speaks with such sincerity that I find it hard to believe he'd just make it up.

Spartans can't love though. I know that. But Daniel says they can.

Who should I believe? The cloned brain of the Doctor that created Spartans, or a Spartan who I completely despise most of the time?

"Commander Keyes?"

The sound of my Spartan's voice over the radio snaps me out of my thoughts, mild irritation arising once more as an amused 068 returns to his seat, "Yes Chief I hear you,"

"Both Scarabs are down Ma'am. Minimal casualties. We're picking off the last of the stragglers,"

"Very good," I nod to myself as I watch a military green Phantom fly down low to the entrance to the Ark's Control Room, "Head up to the Ramp Chief, The Arbiter will be waiting for you there. The fate of the War rests with you now,"

"The Flood scales the citadel's far wall," The Arbiter's voice was laced with venom as he joined the conversation, "Activate this bridge Oracle. The Prophet will die by my hands Commander, Not theirs,"

"Understood Arbiter. Chief, you know what to do,"

"Roger that Ma'am,"

I sighed as I clicked off the radio, settling back in my chair as I gazed out over the quiet battlefield.

"What is it?"

I glanced back at 068, just long enough to see the concern that filled his eyes, before turning my attention back to the Ark control room as a bright line of blue bridged the canyon.

"I just have a funny feeling," my features creased into a frown as I watched two blotches run top speed across the bridge and into the installation, "Like I'm never going to see him again,"

"My faithful. Stand firm,"

My eyes widened as the radio suddenly came to life once more, Truth's tired drawling voice sending Goosebumps across my skin at him ominous tone.

"Though our enemies crowd around us, we tread the blessed path. In a moment I will light the rings, and all who believe, shall be saved,"

I gave the Spartan another look, this time of worry as he reached down for his helmet, the hiss of the pressure seal filling my ears as I opened the channel to John.

"Chief, how close are you?"

There was a strangled cry of a Brute on the other end, followed by the sound of a shotgun and plasma fire.

After a brief moment of silence, John's words filled my heart with dread.

"Not close enough,"

Okay, explanation time.

One of the reason it's taken me so long to update this is that I'm in the middle of a new Halo story, currently under the title of The Lost Spartan (I'm probably going to change it)
Daniel-068 is the protagonist for this story, but his part is completely different to his role in this fic. His personality and history up to Halo 3 however, is the same. Like the story says, he's a black sheep of the Spartans, due to the fact he's...from a different background then the others (Let's just say he wasn't abducted and leave it at that). I guess I put Dan in because I wanted to see how people would react to a Spartan that isn't really considered normal by Spartan standards. Anyway, I felt I should explain his being there. Next chapter you'll see Charlatan Forge (A friend came up with it because he sees the moniters in Forge mode as cheaters) and what her personality is like.

Anyway, please R&R, as reviews are always appreciated.

Thanks for reading

Dearing