Right, so as of this update my story is now officially AU. Just consider it following after Halo 3 but with a few key differences.

Thank's to doctor anthony for the idea for this chapter.

Disclaimer I do not own anything relating to theHalo universe.

Date

"No offence Arbiter, but we generally do that the other way around."

The Arbiter looked up, a smirk of amusement flitting over his mandibles. "I'm sorry, I had no idea certain rules governed my behavior in this way. I'll be more careful in future." He gave a wry smile and lay back on the bench. With only a minor grunt of effort, he raised his legs one hundred and thirty-five degrees from the floor.

This wouldn't be a particularly impressive feet but for the barbell spread across his ankles.

Miranda Keyes shook her head, grinning. "You Elites really never cease to impress me."

"Strong legs Miss Keyes, it's a staple part of our being. With these, I could kick your ribcage straight out of your chest."

"No doubt." Miranda shifted slightly and went back to her own exercises.

In the crowded Gym, numerous marines and one or two Elites made use of their current well of spare time. There was even one Unggoy, showing what chimp-like arms could do on a metal bar.

The Arbiter paused and stared at Miranda for a few moments.

The Commander was making use of the dumbbells, showing quite clearly that her slim arms held more strength then one would guess at first glance.

He cocked his head on one side. This was the first time he'd seen the woman in casual clothes, for all that she'd berated the Master Chief about it.

Just a simple singlet and short ensemble seemed to be sufficient, as it was the trend matched by many others in the room, even the Elites were casually dressed. Only he and the Unggoy stood out, though in the Grunt's case it was because his methane filter took an afternoon's work to separate from the armor.

"Taking in the sights Arbiter?" Miranda chortled.

"Just intrigued Miss Keyes." Said the Arbiter carefully. "You were in here since before I arrived and you still seem to be going strong."

"Forgive me for trying to stay in shape." Said Miranda, "but I'd rather not class myself as one of those who think half and hour on the treadmill is a hefty workout."

"Quite."

The two shared a joint smile of equals enjoying one another's company.

Several meters away, the giggly girl from maintenance glowered.

She was on the treadmill, and did deem that half an hour was ample time to build up a sweat. At times she felt that Miranda was personally having a go at her.

"Honestly though Arbiter," Miranda set down her weights and smiled. "Really, with the amount of politics lately I haven't had a lot of time to… well…"

The Arbiter stared at her politely. "Yes?"

"Learn anything about you. Er…" Miranda waved her arms expansively, "you know, your culture, your attitudes, your traditions. Your race… I suppose."

"Ah, a worthwhile endeavor." The Arbiter hefted the barbell, one-handed with apparent ease, and set it down on its stand. "We could discuss it over a lunch break perhaps? Shortly I will have to return to my duties, but for the moment I am free."

"Ah…" Miranda shifted uneasily. "I was aiming for a bit of greater depth. Sort of."

"Indeed? A days work maybe?"

"Were it that easy…" Miranda murmured. She shook her head and continued brightly, "yes I think something like that would work. If you don't mind, that is."

"Oh, certainly not," the Arbiter stretched, "I would be overjoyed to inform you of all you wanted to know. Shall we say… three days time? Eight hundred hours? Your military time?" He held out his hand.

Miranda laid her palm in his, and the Arbiter's claws closed gently over her fingers. "Sounds perfect."

"See you in such time, Miss Keyes."

Both suddenly gave a start at the sound of pounding footsteps, and only whipped their heads around in time to see the sole of the maintenance girl's sneaker disappearing out the door.

"What's gotten into her?"

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Sergeant Major Avery Johnson fumed at the elevator door.

"Alright you bastard," he growled around his cigar, "you don't like me and I sure-as-hell don't like you. But don't you even begin to think about makin me wait for ten blasted minutes you hear me?"

The elevator was silent.

"I said," Johnson snarled around the smoke, "do you hear me?"

A shrill metallic whine echoed from a panel near the doors, followed by a monotonous drone. "Affirmative. I Hear By Standard Aural Receptors Connected To My Being That Serve A Far Superior Role To Your Ea…"

"Alright, alright," Johnson snapped. "I don't need your life's story. Just don't keep me waiting next time. You got it?"

"Affirmative."

"Bloody machines."

"I Hold You In Contempt For The Desecration Of My Feelings."

"I'm not apologizing! I shouldn't have to, this is my ship."

"Irrelevant."

"Alright you tin can I'm gonna…" Johnson paused as footsteps skittered down the hall towards him.

"Johnson!" The perky voice that followed the feet almost made Johnson wince.

"Aw come on! As if my day was bad enough already!" He whirled around and glared down at the giggly little maintenance girl. "You'd better have a good reason for interrupting me. I'm in a highly sophisticated argument on a level you'll never ascertain."

"Really?" The girl looked past him at the stubbornly closed elevator doors. "Hey Jell0, how're you doing?"

The panel beeped. "Very Well, Thank You."

"Johnson giving you a hard time?"

"Affirmative."

The girl tutted under her breath. "Naughty, naughty Johnson. I spent ages programming that AI."

"And you called him Jello?" Johnson gaped incredulously. "Girl you are a nut job and a half."

"Sure, whatever you want." She winked. "Truth be told Johnson, I'm not here to pay Jell0 a visit."

"Oh, really?" Johnson cocked an eyebrow. "That's a shame, you don't know whatcha missin."

Jell0's doors hissed open with an unnecessarily loud 'ding!' A couple of marines walked out. "Thirty Fifth Floor." Snapped Jell0. "Gymnasium And A Huge Jerk!"

The maintenance girl shook her head sadly. "If he had eyes he'd be cryin." She brightened. "Anyhoo, Johnson, got a little proposition for ya."

"'For you sir.'" Johnson corrected. "And I'm not listenin. You girl, are a disaster waiting to happen. Sorry, correction, a disaster what has happened and is strangely curving back around for another shot at it, possibly with a rain of frogs in tow."

"That's the spirit." The girl rapped him on the arm with her knuckle. "Okay smoky, just hear me out."

"Do I have a choice?" Johnson groaned as the elevator doors slammed closed behind him.

"Tough Luck Bitch."

He jabbed the 'up' button several times, then turned back to the girl. "So, what's this new torture."

"A little wager." She flexed her shoulders. "If you would."

"I wouldn't."

"Indeed. A facilitation of production values in a manner of one certain circumvention…"

"Whoa, easy there college girl." Johnson scowled. "We're not all overachievers."
"Oh don't worry, I was just spouting shit," she grinned, "I'm placing a little bet on Miranda."

"On what, exactly? That she actually gets five hours sleep for once?" Johnson snorted. "After all these diplomatic things I can't remember when I last saw her without bags under her eyes."

"I think she's taking some time off. With the Arbiter."

Johnson's expression didn't change. "I'm listening."

"If I'm any judge they'll be heading to the Amazon."

"Yes?" Johnson prompted.

"The station, not the jungle." The maintenance girl grinned again. "I imagine to talk about culture and things. My wager is this; by the end of the day I bet they'll express one gesture of affection to each other. Human or otherwise."

Johnson eyed her warily, "intentional?"

"Duh."

"I'll take that bet. Fifty bucks?"

"Make it a round hundred, plus extra's." The girl's grin widened further.

"Like what? Cos you're not getting my laptop. I need that."

"No, nothing like that." The girl spread her arms innocently. "I'd just like you to throw out your collection of… aha, magazines."

Johnson narrowed his eyes. "What?"

She coughed meaningfully.

"Aw hell girl," Johnson snarled, "how dare you even think that! Those are weapons and ammunition magazines. You know my policy on pornography! The Navy's a family place."

"Yah, I know." The girl nodded. "I've seen what you do to marines you catch with the, uh, magazines."

"Too right."

"But," she raised her eyebrows, "if we're going to regard your magazines, I'd like to draw your attention to, ahem; 'Miss 'big-guns' February.'"

"I can't control all subject matter," Johnson muttered. "There's some very good articles."

"Wearing little more then a thong and a shotgun…" Maintenance girl continued.

"They put one of my speeches in the editorial." Johnson sighed. "Got it hung up on my wall somewhere."

"…Pretty sure she takes up two whole pages." Supplemented the girl.

"I wouldn't have subscribed, but O'Riley wrote up the form…" Johnson groaned. "Okay, fine. But only if you understand that that kinda thing doesn't interest me in the least."

"Absolutely."

"Now it's your turn." Johnson stubbed out his cigar on Jell0's panel.

"Jerk."

Johnson peered at her thoughtfully. "Tell you what. If you lose, then for the next month you must shut up."

"What?"

"Yep." Johnson beamed. "You only get to speak when spoken to, and no sass-back!"

The girl grunted. "Fine."

"Great." Johnson gave a snort as the elevator door hissed open. "Call it a date."

He stepped through, but as the door closed, shot his hand out and caught it, leaning towards the girl. "Oh, and one more thing. Lookin good there Miss July."

The doors closed over his smirk, as the maintenance girl turned a solid shade of red.

"Oh I'll get you for that Johnson…"

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John 117 sighed and slumped back against the wall in one of the Cairo's danker hallways.

This was generally the Spartan's equivalent of slobbing out in an easy chair.

He'd been feeling a bit strained lately, yet unable to detect the reason.

True, he had been… alone more then usual. Johnson was often on business, Miranda seemed more politically inclined then ever, the Arbiter always seemed busy with training exercises for young Sangheili recruits and Cortana… Wasn't around so often.

The Chief didn't know why this bothered him, but it did.

And the fact that Guilty Spark kept hovering around him lately like a lost puppy wasn't helping either.

Alone in the world, but not left alone bythe world.

Except now, of course.

Some were saying that they should put him back in a cryotube, 'you know, until the next war.'

They smiled when they said it, but…

The Chief groaned and shook his head.

Suddenly he stiffened.

His motion detector indicated the approach of a figure. The Chief pushed off from the wall and spun around, only seeing an empty hallway on all sides.

His fingers flexed, without a weapon he settled into a ready stance, prepared to fight.

Flight never even crossed his mind.

So he wasn't prepared for the small orb that rolled across the ground towards him.

His motion sensor went berserk, red dots filled his vision like helmet-measles.

Radar jammer! He never thought…

He froze as a hand landed on his shoulder and the point of a knife pressed into the small of his back.

A voice hissed in his ear. "You're out of practice Chief."

The Spartan winced, the synthetically strengthened knife was designed to punch through an Elite's breastplate, and MJOLNIR armor would be lucky to last that long.

"If I hit the right spot, you'll never move again." Continued the voice conversationally. "And if I hit the wrong spot… well, you won't even be that lucky."

The Master Chief snarled, swiping his arm bonelessly behind his own back, intent on grabbing his assailant's hand, only for them to pull away with terrifying speed.

The Chief whirled around with all the grace of a dancer.

Anyone who could have seen his face would've been surprised by the fact that he was smiling. "Kelly."

The figure in front of him smirked slightly, sliding her knife back into its sheath.

She was quite a tall woman, sinewy and pale.

Clad in only basic military garb, the drab green set off the vibrant blue of her short-cropped hair.

She saluted primly. "Spartan 087, Kelly sir, reporting for duty."

The Chief returned the gesture and said gruffly. "Good to see you Kelly. You look well."

"Thank you Chief."

He nodded at her hair. "Had it re-dyed?"

"I quite like it sir." Kelly ran her fingers through her rough tresses. "You approve?"

"I'm willing to approve of anything right now Kelly." John unclasped his helmet and tucked it under his arm. "Just nice to see friendly face that doesn't have four lips."

"Thank you. Ah…" Kelly looked shifty. "An informal hug wouldn't be too much to ask for would it?"

"It would."

"Thought so." Kelly held out her hand. "I'm glad I found you sir. I missed you."

John clasped her hand in his own, heavy-gauntleted one. "Likewise."

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Miranda Keyes rested her clenched hands on her knees in the darkest corner of the Pelican, trying as hard as she could to ignore the stares of the other marines.

She shivered slightly, not so much from cold, but instead from the sudden exposed feeling welling up in her chest.

She'd never yet realized it, but as much as she berated the Chief about it, she almost never seemed to dress casually.

It was always one uniform, work uniform, formal naval uniform, gym uniform and her dress… formal banquet uniform.

Oh crap, should she have worn makeup…?

No, no don't be stupid, this was the Arbiter. The guy had a face like a scaly, gray, half-peeled banana.

She sighed and looked down at herself.

Maybe she had overdid it…

With a sensibly casual black skirt ending just past her knees, and a plain denim jacket she didn't feel like she was overdoing it but…

The tank-top with an eagle motif ending just above her midriff and the high-heels seemed to be pushing it but the little maintenance girl had insisted.

Drat, she was really going to have to learn the girl's name one of these days.

With a jolt, the Pelican stopped.

The back panel groaned open and Miranda stepped out onto the deck of the Amazon.

She could actually feel the marines checking her out.

"Tough luck lads." She murmured.

She wandered over to an elevator and tapped the panel.

"Greetings." Chirped a tinny female voice. "How May I Help You Today?"

"I'd like to go to the leisure deck, please." She said.

"Affirmative. Please Step This Way."

The doors hissed open, and as Miranda passed through them she noted the name etched at the bottom of the panel.

Trif1e.

Miranda sighed and stood primly in the center of the elevator, hands behind her back, as the floors of the Amazon whirred by.

"May I Inquire As To The Nature Of This Visit?" Said Trif1e politely.

Miranda nodded. She knew it wouldn't donate any memory cells to the information, it was all just programming, "I'm here on… sort of business. Just a… meeting. An informal meeting."

"Oh." Trif1e hummed. "I Trust You Will Have A Pleasant Day. The Leisure Deck Has Just Gone Through Maintenance."

"Sounds good, I just hope the Arbiter likes it. I imagine he could do with a more favorable view of humanity."

"Yes?" Trif1e offered.

"Yes."

Miranda smiled vaguely as the door's swished open. "Have a good day."

"Have…" The machine paused in its recorded dialogue. "Um… Yes."

Chuckling, Miranda strode out onto the deck.

She wandered past a group of Marines, all in civvies, and strolled towards the main leisure bay.

As the glass doors hissed open to permit her into the entrance chamber, she looked around with a quirked eyebrow.

The Arbiter was nowhere to be seen.

She headed towards a likely character, a tall Sangheili in grand scarlet robes, and cleared her throat loudly.

As he turned she said carefully, "um… hello, sorry to interrupt you but have you seen… the… Arbiter?"

The elite grinned, and as if in answer, hooked a claw through his lapel and pulled the front of his robe down to reveal the Mark of Shame upon his chest. "You are on time Miss Keyes, this is good."

"Arbiter?" Miranda repeated blandly. "You… you look so different."

"Merely a change of wardrobe Miss Keyes." The Arbiter spun neatly on his heel and halted with a flourish. "The Councilors have been debating my position within the Covenant, 'Arbiter' being a Prophet-appointed rank. Sadly I still bear the armor, but I am allowed to wear… civvies."

He rifled around in his robes for a few moments and withdrew a small purple object, about the size of a book. "Aha, since our last meeting I have compiled a bit of data that may interest you." He tossed it to her, and Miranda caught it with a grunt. It was heavier then it looked.

With a gallant smile the Arbiter held out his arm. "Shall we move out?"

Miranda greatly took the proffered limb. "Lets."

The two strutted away and disappeared through the airy arch at the other end of the chamber.

After a few moments, two familiar figures detached themselves from the shadows and followed the departing companions.

The giggly maintenance girl murmured something in Johnson's ear.

"That doesn't count."

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"Welcome, Arbiter, to the Amazon."

Miranda spread her arms grandly.

The Arbiter looked around. "Not very big is it?"

Miranda scowled, "well of course not, this is just the information room. The proper place is through the doors at the end."

"A lot of doors in your stations Miss Keyes." Commented the Arbiter.

"Like you're one to talk!" Miranda snorted. "Just take a look around."

"Hmmm." The Arbiter peered at the walls.

They were made of wood, undoubtedly with metal behind, but the thought was there.

Upon each and every surface there seemed to be information, pictures and mounted… bits of Earth's flora and fauna.

He walked over to a stuffed weasel and peered into its lifeless eyes for a few moments. Then he nodded gravely. "A trophy I see. Surely this beast is more formidable then it appears or you would not see fit to mount it in this way."

"No it's just to show you what one looks like," Miranda snapped. She was attempting to work the 'data-box' but could find no buttons, holes or grips on its smooth surface.

"Fascinating." The Arbiter turned away from the animal's accusing glare, "and now I know."

He reached over and rapped his knuckle on the box several times.

With an extended whine, it split open, displaying buttons and a screen. "Shall we move on?"

Miranda pushed past him and led the way through the hanging strips of plastic that served as the entrance.

"This," she said with a flourish as the Arbiter entered after her. "Is the Amazon."

The Arbiter gazed silently around for a few moments. Then he glanced at Miranda and the wooden deck she was standing on.

He strode out to a wooden rail and leant on it.

It creaked alarmingly, but didn't give out. He gazed around again.

"Impressive." He admitted at length.

He appeared to be in a vast cavern of a room, preceded over by an artificial sky.

The room was crisscrossed by more of the plank decks, similar to the ones on Sanghelios, though not nearly as high up, large or made of the same wood.

Sprouting up from the earth below were trees of a like the Arbiter had never seen before.

Strange birds swooped over his head, and the Arbiter gave a start of shock as one of particularly fine plumage disappeared into a small lake with barely a ripple.

"Your… uh… birds… swim?" He hazarded.

Miranda smiled happily, "some of them. Don't yours?"

"Sadly no." The Arbiter turned to look at Miranda as she joined him against the railing. "What is this place?"

"The leisure center of the Amazon." She said unhelpfully. She sighed as the Arbiter glared, "we humans are creatures of atmosphere, we can't take stress or… loneliness without succumbing to some kind of madness."

"Loneliness?" The Arbiter cocked a brow ridge. "In a crowded place like this?"

"You know what I mean." Miranda snorted. "Loneliness for home, for familiar settings for… for the Earth."

"Ah, now I believe we are on the same page."

"Yes. So, because we can't afford to give everyone… Earth leave, whenever they need time off we've had all this," she waved her arm expansively, "installed. Like the mall back in the Cairo. We can't be soldiers all the time."

"Can you not?" The Arbiter grinned. "I don't believe I've seen you be anything but. Until now."

"Well, now's my chance then." Miranda tapped several buttons on the 'data-box,' and almost dropped it when a holographic Sangheili sprouted out of the center and twirled neatly.

"Ah," the Arbiter peered down at it, "that's Tusa 'Falana, kindly performing one of our traditional dances. She kindly made the offer but yesterday."

"Oh. Well she's… very… pretty?" Miranda hazarded. "I think."

"Tusa?" The Arbiter laughed. "She is only one of the fairest and most comely Sangheili I have had the pleasure to acquaint myself with."

"You mean…?" Miranda swallowed.

The Arbiter's laugh died down to low chuckle. "I mean I know her. Her overprotective brother Taso does not allow her much for relationships. Especially not with an Arbiter."

"Well," Miranda carefully reached over and squeezed his hand. "One can only hope, huh?"

"Yes." The Arbiter smiled. "One can."

Fortunately neither of the two heard Johnson hiss, "that doesn't count!"

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"So," John 117 set down a pair of paper coffee cups at a table in the cafeteria, "what brings you out here?"

Kelly, seated at the other end of the table, drew the cup over to herself and too a draught before answering. "Merely the honor of seeing you here sir. Of course."

Both Spartans had managed to dredge up civilian dress, almost matching in 'simple-but-boring' styles of either green or blue.

"That's the answer I expected." John admitted. "But what's the real reason?"

"Oh, you know," Kelly waved airily. "Another mission, another life to protect, another job to flawlessly accomplish. The standard fee."

"What job?"

Kelly leaned closer. "Can't just say to anyone sir, but you were intended to know anyway…" Kelly shrugged, "it's the Prime Minister of the United Earth Federation. He's going to Sangheilios to meet with the High Councilors on their own turf. Now, despite all the safety offered by his hosts, he wants a specific bodyguard. A Spartan. Guess which one he chose."

"Ah," John nodded and leaned back. He smiled stiffly at her. "Well, it's a nice place. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. My advice would be to invest in a tan before then, because when I went I burnt like… well, Johnson kept calling me 'Lobster' for a week so let's leave it at that."

"Thank you sir." Kelly smiled back, "but I've still wondered, why send me? Why not, you know, Spartan 117 the Master Chief?"

"Well," said John expansively, "first off I believe they don't think I'll focus as much as you. I think they think I've been spending too much time with the Elites lately, the Arbiter in particular, and may have somewhat clouded judgement over the matter. They think I'll be too trusting of Sangheili honor to pay as much attention as someone more… suspicious. They're probably right, I'd be more worried about a Jackal assassin loose on the planet. If one of those got him then we could be looking at negotiations deteriorating to a complete standstill, possibly with the threat of a civil war."

"I can see you've given this some thought." Kelly sounded impressed, but not entirely surprised.

"That's only one point," John waved this away, "on another, you've always been faster then me. Faster reflexes, faster running speed, faster in ever way I'm not. I could take a bullet for the Prime Minister. You could take out the assassin before he even gets a shot off."

"Well… thank you sir." Kelly flushed slightly. "But I always thought you were pretty talented in that department. Certainly you covered the distance across Halo pretty well."

Several meters away a purple flicker erupted out of a console.

Cortana glanced from one Spartan to the other. "Ooo, Drama/Romance, fun."

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"Not that I'm complaining…"
"Well good."

"It's only…"

"Yes?"

"Well, you understand…"

"Mmhm?"

"Not that it's a problem…"

Miranda turned and grinned at the Arbiter, "you're not having difficulties are you?"

The Arbiter scowled. Three birds were sitting on the back of his neck and shoulders. "Our birds don't do this."

"They're just grooming you."

"Indeed, and I appreciate the gesture but it is highly undignified. It's stealing my natural parasites!"

"Gross. How unfortunate."
"Oh be quiet, some of those are quite necessary thank you." The Arbiter shook himself, sending the birds shrieking away.

Miranda grinned. "Well, at least you're communing with nature. It's a start." She tapped a few buttons on the data-box and several Sangheili vases flashed across the screen. "I like the architecture. This one in particular's pretty nice." She showed him.

"Ah, you mean the mural of my people slaughtering the Jackal hordes of Salfamus?"

"Really?" Miranda turned the box upside down and peered at it. "Oh, I see. I've changed my mind about it now, I think."

"I personally always liked it." The Arbiter gently reached out into a tangle of plants. "Your flora though, may go some way to matching it." He tugged a flower towards him and sniffed. "Sometimes the greatest experiences in life are the most gentle, the most fragrant. The subtle aroma of life is always a pleasure."

"Quite the poet." Miranda mused.

The Arbiter chuckled. "Hardly." He twisted the flower and snapped it off its stem. "I carve ballads with a blade, not a pen." He handed it to her. "But sometimes it's nice to stop and smell the flowers. You know, rather then blood and the decaying flesh of Flood victims."

"I'm certain," Miranda waved the bloom under her nose, then tucked it behind her ear. She noticed the Arbiter'slook. "What?"

"Very nice." The Arbiter complimented. "It completely fails to match your eyes."

"Charming." Miranda brushed a lock of hair away from her face. "You know Arbiter, I've…" Miranda paused at the flurry of pink objects suddenly fluttering around her head. She looked up. "Do you see any blossoms? Weird."

The Arbiter gazed at her uncomfortably for a few moments, then twitched his head in the direction of the treetops. He thought he heard a voice mutter, "come on girl, that's cheating!"

He dusted a pile of pink petals off his shoulder. "You were saying?"

"Oh, yes I…"

"COVIE BASTARDS!"

Miranda winced as the Arbiter glanced around wildly. "Oh no…"

With a horrendous screech, a large white bird materialized in a flurry of feathers on the rail. Long talons dug grooves into the wood, a maliciously curved beak stared the Arbiter down while mad red eyes swiveled with disconcerting aberration.

"What on Sanghelios…?" Mused the Arbiter.

The bird managed to focus on him briefly, and then nipped at his probing claws in a friendly way that nevertheless contrived to indicate that fingers were a privilege, not a right.

"It's that… blasted cockatoo again!" Miranda waved angrily at the bird in an attempt to ward it off. "No idea who brought it in in the first place."
"COVIE BASTARDS!" The bird glowered at the Arbiter, "Bastards!"

Miranda groaned and covered her face with her hand, "ignore him, he says that to everyone. Johnson spent a… constructive afternoon, teaching it."

Up in the treetops, balanced on a tree branch, the giggly maintenance girl spared Johnson a glance. "Really?" She cocked an eyebrow.

Johnson, laid back against the trunk, shrugged, "I was bored, the Covenant had just blown up three of our ships, the bird was there and… it was just meant to be."

The girl shrugged, "well, whatever," she leaned over, "oh, and by the way, did you know that to the average Sangheili the gesture of raising ones head and exposing the neck is an act of extreme intimacy. It's a display of trust that goes back to the days when a Sangheili would tear out his or her opponent's throat with their teeth." She grinned smugly.

"Really," Johnson cocked an eyebrow. "I'm impressed. Oh, one thing though," he interrupted as she opened her mouth to say something, "it's also used by the bastards tointimidate their enemies. It says, 'hey, look at me you ugly SOB, I'm showing off my weak spot and you can't do a thing about it!'" He returned an equally smug look. "Got some advice for you girl, try talking to the aliens instead of studyin them like animals. You know the guys don't even know your name."

The giggly maintenance girl pouted. "But youinsult them all the time."

"I insult people all the time. Ya dumb… brunette."

The Arbiter growled at the bird. "Did you know Miranda, our birds don't talk." He leaned towards the cockatoo and leered menacingly. "Because we ate all the ones that did."

Miranda sighed and took his hand, "come on, I know a quieter spot where we can talk without bloody Johnson's demon bird."

Up in the treetops a few leaves fluttered to the ground. "Yes!"

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"How, exactly, did this happen?"

John groaned into his hands. "No idea."

"I've asked them to move, but they just… won't… listen…" Kelly growled.

John slammed his fist on the table.

Several feet away, Private O'Riley glowered at him, affronted. "Come on sir, I'm just trying to have some quality time here."

Perched on his lap, with an equally annoyed look, a woman with short-cropped, scarlet hair and a roughly hacked up military uniform, lightly entwined her arms around his neck. "Just ignore them Riles." She glared at the Spartan's again. "All the other seats are full, put up with it."

"Um… Penny…" O'Riley coughed. "They are kind of…"

"Pfft!" Penny snorted. "We're not in the army now grouchy. Suck it up."

Kelly rolled her eyes. "Ah the lower class civilian. Not even a soldier and she's giving me orders. Me! I could kill you three times over before you even see me move."

"Now Kelly," John smiled stiffly, "let's try not to upset O'Riley. He might bite."

"Feh, what'd you know?" Snapped O'Riley. "I've been here, what, ten minutes, and you've barely even glanced at your girlfriend."

"My… what?" John gazed at him in disbelief. "Private, do you even know what the Spartan project is?"

"Yeah O'Riley," all four occupants of the table gave a start of shock as Cortana materialized behind them, "I mean, honestly, he spends every waking moment with an attractive naked purple woman and he… he won't e…even touch me… anymore." She mock-sobbed into her hands. "Why won't you look at me!"

John sighed. "You don't think it's time we got a new AI do you Kelly?"

"I'm not too thrilled about our current one certainly," said Kelly dryly, "do they come in 'dull' or do you have to beat it into them?"

Cortana shrugged, "it's funny isn't it, I can't even take the hint." She grinned. "You two look nice."

Kelly rolled her eyes in John's direction. "Is it just me or is this place getting… crowded?"

John groaned. "Suggestions?"

Kelly stood and held out her arm. "Come on."

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"Well, I'll give you this Miss Keyes." The Arbiter neatly folded his legs underneath himself. "This is very much improved. So, you are saying Marines come here often?"

Miranda leant back against the trunk of a tree. "Whenever they want to… enjoy nature."

"Indeed."

With a pleasant expression, the Arbiter surveyed the scene before him.

A small clearing of flower-studded grass surrounded by trees, nearby a secluded pool of crystal clear water… etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

You know the usual fare for these things.

The Arbiter stretched leisurely. "Still enjoying the information? I spent quite a while building that up."

"Mmm." Miranda prodded at the data-box a few times. "I've been looking at it on the way over here. Thanks for translating it too."

"Oh, believe me, that was no mean feat." The Arbiter smirked. "You have no idea how hard it is to find an appropriate word for Rikkak in your language."

"Yes," Miranda paused, "is that the one that means…?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Miranda flushed. "That may not have been necessary."

"Sorry," said the Arbiter demurely, "no offence meant."

"Oh… oh no." Miranda smiled, a blush spreading across her cheeks, "I just… well I've never… I wasn't…"

The Arbiter smiled kindly and took the data-pad from her unresisting hands. "I'll just edit those bits out shall I?"

Miranda nodded, still grinning vaguely. "Some areas of culture should not be probed."

"Indeed."

The young ship commander sighed and gently flicked her hair out of her eyes. Reclining on the grass, letting the artificial sunlight paint a dappled jigsaw puzzle across her face, she turned to stare at the Arbiter.

For some reason he'd seen fit to roll his sleeves up, and the light etched out every muscle on his rangy arms with crystal clarity.

His face was scrunched up in thought, all four mandibles pursed, while the corners of his mouth twitched up in a roguish smirk.

His gleaming eyes twitched in her direction, then turned back to the screen. "Problems Miss Keyes?"

"Not really," Miranda rolled over onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hand, "you're just looking very… scenic today."

"How very kind of you." The Arbiter turned the data-box upside down. "Oh my, how did that get on there? Those blasted Grunts must've got a hold of it, honestly if you can't trust the subservient little devils whom can you trust?" He glanced up again. "Why… why have you closed your eyes?"

"Hmm?" Miranda beamed. "Just trying to put a face your voice. It really in quite… sonorous."

"Well, thank you," the Arbiter tossed the data-box onto the grass next to her. "Glad you enjoy it. Tell me though," he stretched out his legs, happily dangling his hooves in the pond. "Is that a new scent about you, something floral perhaps?"

Miranda's hand flew to the flower still tucked behind her ear. "No. I don't really believe in perfumes."

"That so?" The Arbiter swung his legs out of the water and bounded to his feet. "Right then." He bent down and picked a discarded apple off the ground. He brandished it under her nose. "Pretend this is a plasma grenade."

"O…k…" Miranda stared at it, perplexed.

The Arbiter drew back his hand, and hurled it into the air.

There was a rustle of leaves, a muffled thud and a curse.

Then, with a crashing of branches and a shower of foliage, the giggly maintenance girl plunged from above and landed in the Arbiters arms.

"Uh… hi." She gave a dazed wave.

The Arbiter sniffed. "Floral." He let the girl drop to the ground.

"Ow." The girl groaned and rubbed her backside, "incidentally it's called 'Summer Roses.' Like it?"

Miranda loomed over her. "What, are you doing here?"

"Um…"

"I am a superior officer I'll have you know." Miranda growled. "Spying on such is a punishable offence."

"Uh…" The girl looked nervously at her thunderous expression. "Would you believe I flew here?"

Miranda scowled.

"Guess not." The girl winced. "Okay, before you kill me, may I plead my case?"

The Arbiter stalked around behind her. "I wonder, what other players have joined in this farce."

The girl grimaced, "please don't bite me."

The Arbiter leant forward, under his head was hovering over her shoulder. "Fear not, I don't like you enough for that." He breathed huskily.

The maintenance girl took a couple of steps away from him. "Really, I'm sorry I just…"

"Whoa there, hold on Miranda." With another rustle of leaves, Johnson dropped neatly from the trees. "Don't go killin her yet."

"Ah," The Arbiter spread his arms and turned his gaze up to the heavens. "Player two, you join us at last."

"Easy squid face." Johnson spat, "Miranda," he turned imploringly to her, "You can take a joke right? The girl and I just… struck up a little… bet."

"On what?" Miranda narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Testing alien to human social relations." The maintenance girl giggled nervously.

"She wanted to see if you'd make out." Johnson smirked.

Miranda looked affronted, while the Arbiter muttered, "we did make it somewhat 'outside,' though I don't see what the excitement is…"

"Please Miranda," the girl begged, "it was only a joke." She pouted hopefully.

Miranda frowned, then glanced at Johnson. "Wait, did you say you bet against our… social relationship."

"Well…" Johnson frowned. "Yeah…"

"Right." Miranda reached around and grabbed the Arbiter's collar. "Really sorry about this."

"About wha…" The Arbiter choked as Miranda pressed her lips to the end of his mouth.

As Johnson and the maintenance girl watched, open-mouthed, Miranda gently cupped the Arbiter's approximate chin in her hand and continued to kiss him deeply.

Then she pulled away.

They looked deeply into one another's eye for a long moment.

Then the Arbiter blinked.

"Oh Forerunners, there's spit on my mandibles!" He gagged and ran over to the pond, collapsed by its side and buried his face in its depths.

"Oh you son of a…" Johnson groaned, while the maintenance girl grinned slightly and patted the Arbiter awkwardly on the back.

Miranda smiled blissfully back at him. "You lose then?"

"Gaah! I think I felt your lingua in my mouth!" The Arbiter wailed, snorting water. "Oh Forerunners!" He splashed under to surface again. "I taste saliva. And it's not mine!"

"So," the giggly maintenance girl grinned at Johnson, "you need a hand shifting boxes or are you just gonna shove them out the airlock?"

Johnson scowled. "Oh shut up, you don't even have a name."

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"So," Kelly smiled and leant on the railing in front of one of the massive windows of the Cairo, "you ever remember it like this?"

"Sometimes." Standing next to her, John 117 smiled slightly.

Far beneath them, the Earth turned slowly.

The sunlight flashed off its seas, turning them incandescent and glinting off the continent of Africa, lighting up the area of glassed earth like a jewel.

Kelly heaved a sigh, shoulders slumping like the whole of the world were resting on them. "It's terrible isn't it, what they did?"

"Hmm?" John followed her gaze to the gleaming area surrounding the former New Mombasa. "They didn't really have much choice. It was that or let our entire planet succumb to the Flood. What would you have done."

Kelly closed her eyes and murmured, "that wasn't quite what I meant." She turned and gave John a half-hearted smile. "Does dire need really justify any act no matter how horrendous?" She reached over and clasped the back of his hand. "What are you thinking John?"

The Master Chief answered unhesitatingly. "If we'd been able to intercept the Flood controlled ship we might have destroyed it before it ever made it to Earth. Might have spared us half a continent."

Kelly nodded. "Thought it might be something like that. John… I…"

"Ma'am?"

Kelly and John glanced up.

A marine was standing behind them, shifting from foot to foot nervously. "Uh… Commander Roderick wants to see you Miss Kelly."

Kelly narrowed her eyes. "It's Spartan 087." She let go of the Chief's hand and straightened up. All trace of humanity seemed to drain out of her as a glint lit her eyes like the death of stars.

She turned and threw a salute at John. "Goodbye, sir."

John nodded and returned the salute stiffly.

Kelly strode away, leaving the marine to scurry along after her with a nervous backwards glance.

John watched her go impassively.

After a few moments he turned back to the window.

A faint buzzing from his right made him twist around.

Cortana was staring at him with her arms folded across her chest, from a nearby console.

John matched her stare for several seconds before cocking an eyebrow. "What?"

Cortana grinned. "You doofus." She vanished with a faint purple flash, leaving the Master Chief alone, lit up from behind by the light of desecrated Earth.