Chapter 9

The Wild, Wild West bar, Circe, February 2822

"one, two, three.....go!"

Hoots and hollers surrounded the Master Chief and Elemental Franco as the two faced off in the mortal battle of arm wrestling. Beads of sweat popped out from their faces due to the heat from the swarming crowd, teeth gritted and muscles bulged on both sides of the table, and the onlookers only cheered louder.

In the background the Chief could see credits of some kind being passed between the spectators, but he kept his focus on his opponent. He had already put down Miles and Galen, although he was starting to tire and could feel it, but he hardly could decline a challenge, especially when the winner would be taking home the already sizeable pot and drinks on the loser.

Franco had an arm that John swore was made of steel and budged about as much. On the other side of the table, Franco was absolutely certain that the Master Chief was built of titanium, and began to groan and heave as his arm slowly started to tip in the opposite direction that he was intending.

In the background Meghan Buckler smiled appreciatively at the scene. She really had taken a liking to the SPARTAN and felt it was good to see him get out and have some fun with the Point. She understood all too well that John was a career soldier, born and raised for one purpose, but like the Elementals, he was still fundamentally human. All the training in the world would never change that, and having the opportunity to steal some R&R was something that she felt was only a good thing.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or her respect of his desire to always win, or it was the Chief's damn good looks in the slightly dimmed light of the hole in the wall bar that they were in, or maybe a combination of all three but she had to admit he was looking better and better by the second. Get a grip Meghan, she thought, shaking her head and mentally mocking herself.

Sure, the stranger was attractive...and strong...and fearless...and brave...and honest...and loyal....and dammit Meghan cool your jumpjets! Hearing a renewed source of cheering, she looked back to see that John had indeed put Franco's hand decisively to the table, and was sporting perhaps the most self-pleasing grin she had ever seen on a man. He is getting a cocky edge too, aff. I could get used to...stravag, enough!

The Chief smiled at Franco and the two clasped hands in a symbol of mutual respect, while Yelena came forward and placed down a rather large stein of some kind of dark, frothy brew. It was obvious to the Chief, Meghan, and indeed the rest of the patrons that she already had a good head start from the almost predatorial look and the way she leant down to pass the beer to John.

Meghan felt another pang of emotion, not quite jealousy or envy, but along those lines, and approached the table from the opposite side wearing a smile, but her eyes were like plasma bolts. Yelena looked up at her Star Captain and could tell that she was making a possessive gesture in regards to the Chief, and while Yelena had been politely rejected from making advances, ultimately girls would be girls, and boys would be boys.

An almost telepathic connection was made between the two in regards to the territorial rights of a certain SPARTAN, and the two almost as one pushed Franco and John out of their seats as the two took their places, locking their hands in a grip so tight it could have crushed diamond.

The Chief in fact had been showing off, but not for the intention of attracting any additional company, but along the same reasons why he always pushed himself so hard among these Clan warriors. I am being constantly tested, and I must always be ready to meet any challenge, even one of a friendly nature he thought as he vacated his seat, beer still in hand. The Clan lifestyle based on the warrior society, survival of the fittest and Darwinism at its best left no place for 2nd place except to be the first loser.

The hooting and hollering began anew and with renewed fervor as the testosterone-driven crowd cheered on the two amazon-like women, which the Chief watched with interest, although he did not get into the cheering and whooping of the crowd.

Meghan snarled in effort against Yelena, the alcohol that the latter consumed giving her a bit of an extra wind. Yelena merely smiled confidently back, and even had the audacity to blow a kiss to the crowd, although it was aimed at a certain member of the crowd in particular. John noticed the kiss, and revelation dawned on the SPARTAN just what exactly the hidden wager between the two females was, and found himself strangely feeling flattered, insulted, intrigued, and anxious all at the same time.

Their hands inched back and forth like a metronome on steroids, both leaning in to get extra leverage against their opponent, although the arms began to slowly and precariously tip against the favor of Star Captain Meghan Buckler. Yelena, seeing her opportunity, attacked with fresh resolve, her arm moving slowly but surely towards the opposite end of the table.

Meghan looked up at Yelena, not wanting to show her opponent that she was ready to yield to defeat just yet. Instead her eyes locked on John's, and the two shared a connection for a moment as well. Nothing was said, but the Chief gave a slight smile, and nodded his head towards the opposite end of the table, indicating subtly where he wanted this match to go.

Feeling almost as if her muscles had just doubled in strength instantly, the slow pace towards her side of the table stopped. Yelena's smile ceased and took on a look of agitation, and then perhaps even a bit of panic as she found herself struggling to keep her knuckles from hitting the other side of the table. She failed spectacularly after a redoubled effort by Meghan put her out of her misery, and coincidentally out of any potential claim to the SPARTAN. She looked slightly crestfallen, but after another large swing from her massive stein, another goofy smile had crossed Yelena's face, her recent loss almost completely forgotten.

Meghan massaged her arm and wormed her way through the packed crowd around the table as Miles and Galen sat down to test their mettle against one another. Never a dull moment is there she thought while she worked sought out her target.

Well, I've gone and done it now, thought John as he watched the Star Captain work to a spot next to him at the bar. At first nothing was said even after he passed her a rather large stein of the same, bitter beer he had been drinking. If you didn't want company, you should have interfered one voice told him, but another said it wasn't about companionship, it was about encouraging your comrades....ah hell who am I kidding?! It was totally about making a choice.

The Chief spoke first, "that was quite a show of strength you did just there." Keep it diplomatic, too bad diplomacy's not my style or my forte.

He is nervous, he is holding back. An opportunity, quaff? Perhaps. "I appreciate your encouragement, it was...uplifting to have you in my corner," she responded back, not wanting to be too direct. John did not know what to say to this, he really could not justify picking one member over the other, the fact was he liked the girl. He simply smiled back and nodded.

"Let us take a walk, quiaff?" Meghan downed the last contents of her stein in one large chug and headed towards the door. That was not a question, by the way, that was an order was the look she gave him as she walked past.

Awh, hell, might as well get this over with, thought John as he similarly downed the contents of his mug and headed outside as well. It was dark out, despite Circe having multiple moons during this time of year they did not crest until much, much later and for most of the night the stars were absolutely brilliant. Fortunately, his keen eyesight allowed him to see quite well even in the lowlight conditions, so when Meghan Buckler came around a dark corner and planted a wet one right one John's lips, he at least had the advantage of seeing it coming, although he did not make any move to reciprocate, at least until she broke her face from his.

John took a step back and raised his hands, signaling his desire to slow down. Meghan, on the other half, looked like a mixture of anger and disappointment. She spoke first, "Is there a problem, SPARTAN, have you never been kissed by a woman before, quineg?" She eyed him dubiously, of course he has, someone built like that would have the pick of the litter. By Kerensky if only he had a Bloodname, what he could give our eugenics........her train of though was broken by the sight of him shaking his head in a negative fashion.

"Neg, I have not, no," he deadpanned. Any source of emotion completely gone from his face, and his voice dipping back into the unnaturally deep tones that she found so attractive. "I am tired, by your leave ma'am, I will see you at drill at 0600 Monday." The Chief turned to walk back toward the base, apparently thinking the conversation over. For Meghan, it had hardly begun as she ran around in front of him and blocked his way, complete disbelief on her face.

"You mean that you're telling me that you've never been with anyone before?" Meghan's voice took on an almost critical tone, all the while completely forgetting about the use of contractions. The SPARTAN stopped, opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and kept walking.

"They did something to you, didn't they? Something that changed you? Not just your little chip at the base of your neck, or even your physical enhancements." She continued paced with the Chief who remained impassively silent for a moment longer, before finally resigning himself with a sigh.

They walked back to his quarters on base, and surprisingly, the Chief allowed Meghan entrance. They sat down on the couch, and John for the first time that the Star Captain could remember, appeared nervous, fidgeting with his hands. She waited expectantly, knowing he would tell her when he was ready, and that John did.

He related everything during the augmentation process. The incredible pain, the crippling disabling pain, his suppressed sexual drive, everything. The fact that more than half of his fellow SPARTANS died and almost a quarter being crippled and disabled beyond measure. Images that still haunted him to this day, how he felt he was one of the lucky ones, but would have traded his life in an instant for any one of his fellow SPARTANS.

He went into detail on his feelings about the difference between a life used, and a life wasted, something that CPO Mendez, his drill instructor, had professed to him, and during the augmentation process, part of John died and was crippled with half of his fellow SPARTANS on that fateful day. He never forgot how the CPO failed to meet his look when he had asked him if he thought if the lives were used or wasted.

Meghan, for her part, wisely kept her mouth shut and listened with the compassion that went beyond simple friends. When the Chief had finally finished, she moved to sit next to him. He still fidgeted slightly with his hands, but she rested hers on top of his, warmth moving from one to the others. She still desired him, but her purpose took on a much stronger turn, she realized he needed someone that understood him, and she did. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, gently at first, and turned his chin toward hers.

"Their lives were certainly not wasted, and this guilt you carry is not warranted because it was not your fault. Here, let me help you find a bit of what you lost, and show you that you do have a home in the Wolverine Clan."

The lights went dark in John's room and he discovered much about himself with Meghan that evening, and they discovered long, long into the night.