Chapter 2

John-117 sat alone in his quarters, his mind still trying to get used to the fact that he wasn't even in the same galaxy he just left, that there was no UNSC, no marines, no earth. But most importantly for him, a machine bred for war, there was no fight. The covenant may as well not have existed, for this Galaxy had never heard of it. That was Chiefs sole and only purpose in life, he fought and killed and without that drive he felt at a loss, that he was just akin to a spare part that floated around, a cog that was no longer needed because the machine had changed and he didn't fit.

For the first time in his life Master Chief felt useless.

So here he was, a former shell of the force he used to be in a derelict ship with a glowing two foot woman and an equally anti-social tin can of a person. He sat alone in the near dark, Cortana's light illuminating very little of the room, his armour had been taken to storage where computerised maintenance was now taking place upon it. Sat in his black skin tight t-shirt and trousers, he leaned forward and steeped his fingers in front of his face. It wasn't long before John groaned and put his now un-helmeted head in his hands, leaning on his knees as thoughts stopped tolling round in his mind. What am I to do? He asked himself, not surprised when no answer came back. He peeked up over the edge of his fingers and sighted Johnson's army cap on the bed side table. "Things were so much simpler back then" he muttered "I had something to do, something to be. Now?" he removed his hands from his face and stared at them, noticing the deep calluses that adorned them from their over use, and sighed once again. "Now I have no idea what I am". He slowly stood up and for the second time that day picked up Johnson's cap, turning it round. Memories spiked up, and he instantly put it down lest he began to get lost in them, turning away sharply and heading to the bathroom.

"You will always have a purpose John" came Cortana's voice from the podium in the middle of the room. John looked back over his shoulder as his hand rested on the bathrooms doorway, and ignored how shrivelled Cortana had begun looking.

"Maybe Cortana, maybe."

He turned away and entered the bathroom, taking off his black top and throwing it into the corner of the room. He reached into the shower and turned it to boiling hot, before turning away and looking into the bathroom mirror, leaning his hands on the sides of the sink. He looked upon his hardened features. He looked at his short thick brown hair and ran a hand through it, wondering when the last time he looked upon his un-helmeted face actually was. He noticed the hard jaw that ran in deep to his neck, the stern cheekbones and permanent smouldering look that always seemed to be there, even if he relaxed completely. Scars scattered his face from the argumentations he had taken in the stages of his training, the one that ran from under his right eyelid down to mid cheek, the one on the left side of his forehead that seemed to follow his hair line in a curve, the one that ran from the middle of his nose left to once again finish mid cheek. Through all this one feature always seemed out of place to him, and while he had never cared for looks, there hadn't been a time or need, he always wandered why he got the eyes he had. Because staring back at him through the war hardened face, through the scars and strong jaw and permanent scowl, were the brightest and deepest blue eyes he had seen on anyone. He never understood it, in the years he had served he thought everything had become emotionless, but there they were, remaining full of life as the first day he could remember seeing them. Taking one last look he turned away and pulled off his trousers and in one movement jumped into the shower while throwing them into the pile with his shirt. He didn't recoil from the boiling hot water, but embraced it, another thing he couldn't remember doing last, taking a long warm shower and just falling into the feel of it. He leaned against the wall with both hands and just let the water run down his back as he felt the knots of constant fighting beginning to unravel in his spine, a pleased groan escaping his lips before he could stop it. He stood up, turned, and leaned with his back against the wall, the showers spray now hitting the top of his head and running down his body. He looked at his arms and chest, running his hands over the scars he had there, the bullet holes and plasma burns, the puncture wounds of a knife and the gashes of flying shrapnel.

His body, well worked and well looked after, was not a specimen of supreme beauty or model worthy, and while it was still a body that pulled envy out of people it wasn't for how it looked, it was for how it moved. Every time he turned, even for the slightest movements herculean muscles had to move to allow smaller muscles passage, and even the smaller muscles made most fitness fanatics turn green with jealousy. Instead of being something beautiful it was something dangerous, it didn't radiate attractiveness, instead it oozed power. A destructive force that could not be stopped or tamed, just something you can run from and hope you stay in front of. He cleaned himself and turned the shower off, stepping heavily out and wrapping a towel around his waist before heading out into the main room.

Chief's mind wandered to Samus, the mysterious armoured figure that had fount him on this ship. After excusing itself to check upon its ship, Chief had done nothing but try and figure out what to do now, now that everything he had known had vanished, and one thought kept prevailing in his head. She's a bounty hunter, which means there will be fights, maybe even wars; you'll have a purpose, a reason to be. He sat down heavily on the grey couch and leaned back into it, grabbing a faded brown ledger off the round table in front of him. He opened up at a marked page and pulled out a pen and then began to write.

Samus finished checking over her ship, just basic checks that would mean that they could take off and land without the uncomfortable hindrance of dying. She double checked and sometimes triple checked the operating specifications making sure the ship matched them, all to be safe she told herself. She knew she was just making excuses as to why she wasn't going back in the derelict ship, it was because of him. Over the past years she had had little contact with other life that didn't involve money being exchanged or plasma bolts flashing past her head, so when the awkward silence popped up between them she had no idea how to act. So she left and did something she knew she could, and that was repairing her ship.

She didn't even know why she was still here, regulation dictates that she should take him to the nearest galactic federation station and have him recorded and tested. But she wasn't exactly under obligation as a free lancer to do that and had little or any intention of doing so. So she waited, unsure of what to do with him or what to even say.

He's well trained, that's obvious form being able to get the drop on me so effortlessly (her pride still stung a little when she thought about it), he has a cool head and seems to be able to handle himself. I could take him along on this mission, it saves me back tracking and making unnecessary trips when my mission needs to be completed.

She kept on mulling it over while servicing the ship, the motions already second nature to her. Her hands slowly stopped moving as she came to a decision. She stepped out from under her ship and re-activated her suit, the thick orange hide coming back into view. She walked back into the derelict ship quickly, as if before reason could take over her mind. She winded round the ship, trying to remember where Chief's quarters were located. She passed by an open door, stopped, then slowly started walking backwards and eventually peered round and looked in. She saw chief standing up facing away from the door, his armour on except for his helmet, and writing in what appeared to be a brown old journal with bits of paper sticking out at odd angles here and there. She watched for a bit longer before knocking lightly on the door. The chief's head snapped to look over his shoulder, quickly snapping the book closed and going to hide it in his armour somewhere before stopping. He slowly placed the journal down on the table, refitted his helmet, and then picked up the journal again before turning to Samus. "I used to hide this" he said, opening the journal and looking through it "I didn't want people knowing that I kept it. Stupid now I look back on it."

"What do you keep in there?" Asked Samus, her suits voice mechanics covering up the sound of her voice and any emotion involved.

Chief seemed to have not heard her, still flicking through the pages of the journal, lingering on one page before moving on to another.

"Memories" he finally answered, before closing it with a snap and placing it inside his chest piece. "I just finished his section" he said, nodding to Johnson's cap next to the bed. He walked over to his assault rifle and began stripping it, placing each part strategically down on the table. "So, what do you need?" asked chief speaking over his shoulder.

Samus stared a little, forgetting why she had, before it came back to her quickly, and instantly wished it hadn't.

"Where do you plan on going?" She asked, stepping into the room. The man in front of her stopped for a fraction of a second before returning to his rifle. "No idea" he replied rather quickly, his voice showing the distaste he felt. Samus nodded, her voice suddenly not operating anymore.

"We-well, if you fancied it, you could, you know, come with me for a bit and help me out or something".

Chief stopped and looked over at Samus, who turned her head away and folded her arms, not wanting meet the Chief's face.

Chief smirked under his helmet, his sense of humour making him unable to keep his mouth shut "Oh, and why would I want to do that?" he asked, turning to face the thing in front of him.

"Well, you can fight from what I know and I'm a bounty hunter" Samus replied, gaining apparent confidence after every word. "And it saves me heading back the millions of miles it took to get here, may as well take you along and then drop you off wherever on the way back" she shrugged, still not looking at master chief "just be easier" it said, finally looking back at him. He was again glad that his helmet hid his face as another grin was edging its way across. He kept his voice perfectly calm though "yeah, sounds like a plan" he said, happy that he didn't bring up the subject and that the person in front of him wasn't much of a people person either. He turned and picked up his assault rifle and side arm from the table, placing them in the magnetic slots on his armour. He turned to face the podium where Cortana was standing "come on Cortana, we have a ride out of here". Cortana's face instantly shadowed over, her head dropping down and away from Johns, not being able to meet his gaze.

"Not for me there isn't" she said, softly, almost as a whisper. Silence rung out between the three, the small grey room suddenly seeming too small. Master Chief stood, still, in the middle of the room, as he slowly turned to the decaying Cortana, a sad smile playing on her dropping lips.

"Don't give me that look, I have a couple of days at most, you know it, I know, and even the big silent yellow tin over there knows it" Said Cortana, a weak smile attempting to cross her face, which fell short.

"Samus" said chief's cold, dead voice.

"I'll be by the ship" said Samus, turning and leaving, knowing she had no right there, as the gray door closed behind her taking all the sadness with it.

"Chief, look at me." Said Cortana "I know you can so look at me." John's eyes slowly came to meet Cortana's, and he instantly looked way again, shoulders tense and hands clenched, teeth gritting against each other in anger.

"You can't just go like this" snarled out Master Chief's voice "everything you've been through and pulled through, the grave mind, the purging of Halo. And now some stupid pre-determined design is going to take you down?" he threw out his arms in anger, pacing back and forth.

"I know, I know Chief, it sucks for me more than you know" Cortana chuckled "but its how it is, we now need to deal with it" she whispered, growing to Chief's height and walking towards him, standing not an inch in-front of him. She looked into his mask, knowing where his eyes are, and didn't break contact or blink.

"Now hold still, I don't know if this will work, but, if it does it will make everything a little better to bear, I hope" Said Cortana, cupping his mask as if to touch him, she closed her eyes and walked slowly forward, into his suit. John gasped, as he felt Cortana's hands around his back, her arms pressed into his side and what he knew was her head buried into his shoulder.

"H-how are you doing that?" he stammered

"I can control your suit remember? So I can actually make it seem like I'm here, just by manipulating the gel layer. Now you gonna stop asking questions and let me concentrate?" she held tighter, burying her head deeper into his shoulder. Chief instantly relaxed, not sure of what to do, but enjoying the feeling none the less. "There's only one downside to this, because it takes up so much of my run time it effectively cuts my life span down tremendously." She pulled her head away and looked into the chief's eyes. "I will only be here for a minute, maybe less" she smiled sadly, tears falling down her eyes. "Why did they have to make me with emotions?" she laughed lightly, her eyes closed as she rested her head against his. They stayed like this for some time, just holding each other, silence being reined between them because no words needed to be said. "Twenty seconds john" said Cortana as she pulled her forehead away from his and locked eyes with him. "No reason for me to regret this then" she said, and kissed him. She pulled away almost instantly, smiling as tears cascaded down her face, and to John's surprise tears were rolling down his too. "I never thought I would be happy to see you cry" she said, as she started to fade gradually away, flowing away like leaves in the wind. "I'll miss you Chief." She said, as she nearly faded away completely. "And I love you, john-117". She had gone. John fell to his knees. No words needed to be said, but when they are, they stay with you forever.

Chief walked out to Samus's land site, his walk strong and steady. Samus was leaning against the ship, arms crossed and head tilted to the side as chief got closer and closer. "Got everything you need?" Samus asked.

Chief looked at the empty data disk in his hands and began twirling it around. "Everything that needed to be said was said." Replied Chief, placing the empty data disk in the back of his helmet, to which Samus nodded, Chief not needing to say anymore. Samus seemed to press a command into her gun, and the lift from the bottom of her ship came down.

"Where we headed?" asked Chief, stopping before entering the ship. Samus pointed behind him, and when he turned he saw an orange planet, massive in size, at least three times the size of earth, with a soft blue hue surrounding the atmosphere. It seemed his ship had been orbiting around it.

"The planet?"

"Tallon five? If need be, but on the other side, just off its orbit is a space colony that has given off a distress signal, human origin. That's where I was headed when I spotted you." Samus turned and walked onto the platform, Chief following shortly after.

"The reason behind the signal?" asked chief, squeezing onto to lift next to her.

"No idea, but shouldn't be anything we can't handle"

The lift shot up into the spacecraft, soon after the spacecraft itself lifted off the platform, leaving the last remnant of the UNSC stranded in space, just to be forgotten in time and space.