A/N: The long awaited action filled chapter… I think.

After reading Greg Bear's works… I can't help but tear my hair out in frustration… this guy is practically changing the Halo lore… a lot! So, I'll need to address a few things here and there. Well, at least when Silentium is out, there will be no more change to the lore.

So, the changes:

There are two Arks – I'm going to assume that Greater Ark is greater in diameter (even though I have no solid evidence).
Lesser Ark is more civilian based.
Greater Ark is the Capital of the Coalition – UNSC HIGHCOM and ONI HQ is located here.

All Halos are 30,000km in diameter. There are 12 Halos.

This newfound information will be incorporated later into the story. (Changes will be most evident in Hood's journal and the reports).

Also, I've really taking a liking to some of the characters in Halo 4: Forward Unto Dawn. I'm hoping that they won't kill off some of the characters, as I want to implement them into the story.

Future changes:

Inclusion of the following characters:
Micheal Sully Sullivan
JJ Chen
Chyler Silva
Dimah

Changes to lore in regards to Forerunner creations, and Forerunner history.

XXxxXX

"Restoration Protocols
-Enacted

Installations will be restored to previous size, of 30,000km in diameter.

Reclamation Protocols
-Enacted

Lesser Ark and Greater Ark are relocating to the Magellenic clouds"

-Forerunner Mainframe, Year 2570

XXxxXX

THE GREATER ARK, FORT WALL (30KM FROM FORBIDDEN CITY), PIT-002

The artificial sky had faded into a deep orange. Tired workers and students were heading home to enjoy the gifts of a Friday night. Within the confines of a training pit, Shepard and Cortana, waited for Keyes and his party to arrive. Jane looked around the large rink lined with AstroTurf. A glass dome stretched overhead, revealing the evening sky.

"I was just thinking," Shepard began, "how'd you know about Lord of the Rings?"

"EDI," Cortana replied, "when she forwarded me data for the missing link, I came across the Lord of the Ring trilogy. I found it quite enjoyable."

"I see," Jane said, "anyway, is there anyone else coming here?"

"Well, there's your team, and a few UNSC scientists coming in," Cortana answered, "looks like they're taking their seats too."

The doors on the far side of the rink parted, allowing the Chief and Keyes to enter. Like Shepard, the Spartan-II was wearing combat fatigues, minus the armour. Essingdon on the other hand, was wearing a conservative suit with a tie and a lab coat.

"Okay, Shepard?" John asked.

The Spectre turned her attention to the lightly tanned face. She remembered how it used to be pale, and the expression devoid of life and happiness.

"Bit sore, but nothing I can't handle," she answered.

"Do you think you can perform some exercises?" Cortana asked.

Shepard stretched her limbs, and winced, before nodding slowly. "I think I can."

"Good, we'll start out slow," Keyes said. "The Chief here will run you through some courses."

Essingdon, tapped in a few commands into his tacpad. Sentinels and an Engineer floated into the room, and gently laid down some obstacles. The scientist beckoned Cortana to come with him, as he moved to the observation post.

Shepard exhaled, while rolling her shoulders. The more she moved, the quicker the pain disappeared.

"Walk her through, Chief," Keyes said over the loud speaker.

From the corner of Jane's eyes, she could see her entire elite cadre sitting in the stands, watching her. Apparently they had been eager to see her again, after her augmentation.

"Bringing up the targets," the Spartan-II said. A couple of wooden dummies extended from the ground, each appeared to be made from oak wood. "Hit the targets as hard as you can."

Jane took a deep breath, and walked close enough to be within striking distance.

"Aim, look where you want your fists to go," John guided. "Take out all of the targets as fast as you can."

Shepard gazed at the dummy's chest, curled her finger while pulling back her hand, and extended. In an instant, the world seemed to slow to a crawl. The chest of the dummy cracked and gave way to the gloved fist. Splinters seemed to fly out at an agonisingly slow speed. Using her newfound flexibility, the Spectre twisted while retracting her fist, and connected her heel into the temple of the next target. The head snapped violently to the side as the top half was raggedly torn off. With momentum in her movements, Shepard leapt into the air like an angel, and struck a vicious kick, which shattered the upper torso of the last target.

"Nicely done," the Chief complimented.

Jane's muscles tingled slightly, but the pain was no longer there. With her sensitive hearing, she picked up on the murmurs of awe and approval from her team. Even Javik managed a compliment.

"Thanks," Shepard smiled, bringing her breathing back under control.

The now destroyed targets were retracted back into the ground, a couple of drones hovered through to clean up any remaining debris.

"Next, the course," Keyes said over the speaker.

Jane turned her attention to the group of obstacles that looked like only an Olympic gymnast could handle. The Spectre frowned slightly as it had been a very long time since she did acrobatics.

Seeing her slight discomfort, the Chief gave her a few words of reassurance. "Focus, look where you want to go, it's easier than it looks."

Nodding lightly, Shepard took a deep breath and assumed a starting position.

"Whenever you're ready," Keyes said.

Immersing herself into a biotic charge, Shepard shot forward fast than she ever had before. The obstacles seemed to just shatter as she touched them, and before she knew it, Jane had left a sizeable dent in the Pit's walls.

Slightly dazed, Jane rolled her head back and forth before looking at John. He had a surprised look on his face, the expression was barely noticeable, but it was there, and she could see it.

"What?" Shepard asked, slightly shrugging.

"Damn," Jane heard Vega whisper.

"You just destroyed the course," John said, though with a tint of mirth in his voice, "try again. Focus, control your biotics."

"Maybe you guys should use stronger stuff," Shepard said, in a mock condescending manner.

John shook his head lightly, barely noticeable. He signalled to Keyes so that Shepard could run on a different course, albeit made out of hard-light.

Shepard looked at the new course again; it mimicked the environment of a dense costal city in the Mediterranean. Various colours enhanced the feel, but also acted as safety measures. In the short moments that passed, Jane readied herself once more, unsure of her vast abilities.

She ran through the course with grace and precision that could only be comparable to angelic. Her brown hair had a tough time keeping up with her as she vaulted over vast trenches. Some of the platforms were spaced far apart enough to give a III some grief, but with her biotic abilities, it was nothing.

Landing at the finishing line with elegance that John had only seen Kelly and Linda match, Shepard walked over to where the Chief was standing, working off the usual light headed feeling that accompanied post-workout.

"Impressive," John complimented with a genuine smile.

"I aim to please," Shepard quipped.

With crystal clear definition, Keyes's voice resounded over the COMs again. "Chief, work Shepard through a sparring session. Our estimate says that she should be ready."

John nodded towards the observation post, filled with scientists.

Jane felt herself wince inwardly as she realised she was going to go hand to hand, with a man that took on half a dozen of feral beasts.

This is so not going to be like me versing James, the Spectre thought, entering the ring. She tugged her Alliance Officer fatigues, rolling the sleeves over her elbow, and took a combat stance she hadn't taken in a long time. Having been trained in Rio, Brazil, Shepard had picked up Capoeira and merged it with her fighting style.

Of course, her opening stance was to be reserved, she would only pick up the tempo once the fight was well underway. With fists held high, and a low curling posture, Jane was ready, or so she hoped. John stood approximately fourteen metres away from her, his fists were partially curled and legs were shoulder's width apart. It was mainly a reaction stance, only adopted by fighters who preferred quick precision strikes as opposed to grapples.

Jane decided to be the one who struck first. Her opening move began with a double feint before aiming a couple of blows to John's ribcage. But the Spartan-II was faster, much faster. Even with the enhancements, Shepard could only see blurs as John swatted aside her punches. Whatever advantage the Spectre had, she decided to press on and force her superior opponent onto a retreat.

As John was slowly forced back to the edge of the ring, it was time for Shepard to spring her surprise. In quick motions, she was twirling across the ring. Using her superior flexibility, Jane pirouetted in the air and aimed a staggering kick at the Spartan's head. But he was faster, a slight duck and it was a clean miss. Shepard swore inwardly as she realised she overcommitted to her last attack, now it was her turn to go on the defensive.

The Spartan rained down blows on Shepard like a bird of prey. His attacks were precise and insanely fast, Shepard barely managed to block the punches. She needed to think up of something and fast, so she did the last thing her opponent would expect her to do… body slam.

Using biotics was probably cheating, but in a real combat situation, cheating is a foreign concept. Covered in a vibrant violet and blue shroud, Shepard slammed into the Spartan with as much force as possible, without killing him. Jane felt herself colliding into the Chief, her biotics disintegrating his shirt, but the moment she touched his skin, most of the biotic field dissipated. And hence, a large portion of the kinetic energy lost. Still, it was more than enough to hurl both of them across the ring.

Pushing herself away from the Spartan, Shepard decided to increase the tempo of her stance; her fighting form began to mirror Capoeira more. Instead of punches, she led with spinning kicks. Realising the potential threat of biotics, John had resorted to take the Spectre on in closer proximity.

The Spartan-II increased the speed of his attacks, using his superior physical capabilities to his advantage. He was going to drawl out Shepard's strength, make her over commit into an attack, and then rain hell down on her. John swatted and brushed aside Jane's offensive moves, whilst closing in at the same time. Every time the Spectre had blocked one of her opponent's moves and prepared one of her own, there was always another attack waiting around the corner.

Jane feigned to her right, narrowly dodging a left jab. She grabbed the Chief's arm in the hopes of locking him, but he too had flexibility. The Spartan brought his right elbow around, forcing Shepard to release her grip and jump back. She knew her opponent was really planning his moves now, his mind worked faster than hers, making his attacks seemed as if they were choreographed the finest masters in existence. The execution was fluid and precisely, leaving no room for error.

In a desperate final attempt to win the spar, Shepard back flipped and cartwheeled to increase the distance between her and the Chief. But every time she moved, he was close behind. Realising it was now or never, Jane threw two biotic throws at John.

The first missile sailed under him as he somersaulted over it, and the second one just glanced off to the side. In one swift motion, Shepard found herself pinned to the floor and unable to move.

"Yield?" he asked. Even without his helmet, his voice was borderline unnaturally deep, especially for someone of his biological age.

"Yield," Jane abdicated. She felt the vice-like grip slacken, allowing her to move again.

"Biotics…"

"Uh, uh!" Shepard interrupted, "you guys never said anything about biotics."

"They don't work on me."

"They seemed to work on your shirt though," Jane smirked, gesturing to the shreds of cloth that barely hung to his defined torso.

The two moved off to the side to get themselves cleaned up. Jane was covered in a layer of sweat which made her hair cling to her face. Grabbing her towel and burying her face into it, she was surprised by how soft it felt.

"That was damn impressive, Commander," Vega complimented, he then turned to John, "bet she wasn't a stretch for you though, no?"

"James!" Jane gasped in mock horror, "why so little in faith?"

"She wasn't too bad," John said.

"You hear that," Shepard said, pretending as if it was the highest praise in existence, "he said I wasn't too bad."

Naturally, this little joke managed to earn a few chuckles from her teammates.

Keyes came down from the observation post with a smile on his face.

"Good news, Shepard," the scientist began, "our scans show that you are adapting to your augmentations at a very fast rate. Your reaction time and the speed of your punches are one of the faster ones I've seen."

"So everything went well then?" Garrus asked.

"Yes everything went well," Keyes nodded, "you're all clear to go if you want to. Garrus, the Normandy is fully retrofitted…"

"Don't worry, I'm on the calibrations."

The group parted their separate ways for the time being. Jane departed for the showers in the hopes of getting a few extra minutes under the hot water.

Seeing that the lockers were vacant, Shepard threw her bag onto the bench and quickly disrobed. The steaming water rolled down her body, soothing the aches that she picked up from her extensive workout session.

Once satisfied with the small luxury, Jane donned on a fresh set of Alliance fatigues and walked back into the hall where a note awaited her. The handwriting was cursive and neat, extremely neat and consistent to be exact, almost as if it had been printed. At Westminster Fields, the note said, find me if you need me.

XXxxXX

UNSC MAJESTIC, IN ORBIT OF INSTALLATION 12

Lasky couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something inexplicably off. He had spent the past few days studying about the new galaxy that had risen once the Coalition had gone into hiding. And to be honest, he wasn't very pleased. It seemed like scientific progress stagnated the moment a species got its hands on mass effect technology. Everything was imitative, not innovative.

What was even more disturbing was the politics. The entire system was filled with fundamental flaws. Two wolves and a sheep deciding on what's for lunch, Lasky thought. He never really considered himself as an extremist, or even right-wing for that matter. He was a centralist, and had his concerns when the UNSC took over the duties of the CMA and UEG. So of course he was a clear advocate of democracy, and was absolutely joyful when Hood announced that the UNSC would relinquish emergency powers, and removed marshal law.

That being said, Thomas also did see the flaws of a democracy, and he knew that in times of war, soldiers should be running the show, not some half-wit politicians. To his dismay, the Council was exactly as he feared. Self-centred cowards who didn't have a clue in how to fight an enemy that was far superior.

Lasky did feel for Keyes and John who had to get wrapped up in the political shit-storm, even if it was for only an hour. But he truly felt sorry for Hackett, Shepard and Anderson, who had to deal with the Council on a regular basis.

Diplomacy works if both parties have an inclination towards it. Speculating on past trends, diplomacy is far from the Council's minds most of the time. Sure they were concerned about their own people's safety, but that doesn't give them any points when they decide to throw other species into the meat grinder and take the punishment for them.

Krogan rebellions, well, that's what happens when you don't give the species some space, Lasky pondered. Okay, well, maybe the krogan are violent, but their females do reign in the males. And the genophage was too much.

In his heart of hearts, Thomas wasn't even too sure if he wanted to lead his men into hell, just to save a couple of species who will be anything but helpful in the long run. Humanity had its fair share of dealing with parasitic threats and political bullshit. The Coalition still has piracy, splinter factions and insurrectionism running rampant in the outer clusters.

Lasky was torn on the issue; he wanted to save as many innocent lives as possible, while at the same time, he was weary of dealing with incompetence.

"The armada will move in twelve hours sir," an Ensign said.

"Thank you," Lasky said, his mind clearly focusing on more prominent thoughts. Let's hope this all works out in the end.

XXxxXX

THE GREATER ARK, WESTMINSTER FIELDS

Westminster Fields was renowned for its beautiful vista. The place would've become a prime real-estate location had it not been that the UEG decided that the place would be a memorial for those fallen. John could hear the gentle motions of the waves as they lapped onto the sandy beach below.

Annulment light waves had been generated in order to cancel or at least dull the artificial sun's intensity significantly. That was how the Installation had its day and night cycle.

With his enhanced eyes, the Spartan watched as the white caps of the wave's form, before spreading themselves across the beach. From off the shore, towering rock formations bent the currents as the rolled towards the land.

But then something unexpected happened, a thought that hadn't revealed itself for a very long time. His name! He remembered his last name! He had never journeyed that far into the archives of his memories, but it was all right there. He remembered his name, his full name, John Neil Richards.

There was nothing fancy about the name, but it did have an underlying meaning of sorts. And it made him feel, more human. He gazed at the grass to his left, before looking up into the cosmos, gazing across the Milky Way.

It was all so peaceful; it reminded him of his childhood, and his mother. Yes, he could remember his mother and father clearly now. He never had before, but now he could remember them as if it were yesterday. His mother's name was Emma Danielle Richards, a kind-hearted person with a warm personality. She had black hair and brown eyes, and she smelled like soap. John's father was Samuel Robert Richards, a jovial man with an excellent sense of humour. He had brown hair and blue eyes, and every Friday afterschool, Samuel would take John and Parsia out for a vanilla milkshake.

Vanilla milkshake, a childhood favourite that John realised he hadn't had for a very long time. As he probed deeper into the dark expanses, he could feel something trickle down his face. Bringing up his left hand to wipe away his cheek, he realised that it was his own blood. He was crying out blood.

Looking at the crimson covered fingers, John could see the faintest tell-tale signs of the augmentation process. A normal human eye wouldn't be able to pick up on the scars, but up close, a Spartan could. There was only so much the nanites and Positronic lattices could do.

"Do you ever wonder what's out there?" he remembered asking when he was young.

"Like what?" Kelly asked.

"May be someone out there is wondering what's like here," John answered, revealing his brilliant mind at a young age.

"I guess," Kelly mulled over, she at first she seemed uninterested in the topic, but it began to grow on her. "Do you think we'll ever meet them?"

"I hope so. Don't you?"

John felt a tingling sensation wash over him as he thought about that starry night, so many years ago. He missed blue. And he missed her.

The soft footfalls quickly snapped John out of his deep thoughts, he could always tell whose footsteps those belonged too.

…

Gazing up at the night sky, he looked so at peace. After all he's been through; gazing across the vast cosmos comforted him. Jane couldn't help but feel a measure of happiness and joy for him. John never revealed anything personal about himself. But spending time with him, Jane managed to piece the truth together. She knew that he was bred to fight, to seek, and kill. John possessed a brilliant mind and an objective philosophy. Being in the military was not his career, it was his life.

When Shepard had first met the Spartan, she thought of him to be enigmatic, reserved, undeniably patient and calm. Hell, she would've bought it if he said he was a machine. He was so detached, just doing enough to get the job done well.

She could tell that he was tired of it all, weary of fighting. He never had a chance to live, never had the chance to experience the joys that he had saved. It was saddening, and more heartbreaking still to learn that he did his job without complaint, without wanting so much as a word of appreciation.

Jane wouldn't count herself as an emotional person, yet there was something relatable about John's story, something about him that just struck a chord deep within Shepard. They were both raised in the military, but Jane had a chance to experience the smallest of joys she took for granted, such as hugs and a blissful ignorance. John was shown the harsh reality of the world around him and its fragility. At a very young age, he had already accumulated scores of kills, while Jane had just finished High School.

Shepard expected some kind of resentment from the Spartan. But he showed no contempt, it just goes to show how mature, wise and albeit how weary he was.

Every day, he gets up and fights.

His neatly cut brown hair fluttered back and forth in the summer night breeze. The trees surrounding him seemed to move in the same tempo. He seemed so relaxed lying amongst the grass. It seemed almost cruel to interrupt him. Jane was just content to let him be.

She leaned against a tree trunk, somehow knowing that he would be here. Then again, she half-expected him to be here. Westminster Fields reminded Jane of a place where her mother would take her for a picnic annually. I hope you're okay mom.

Refocusing her attention on John, she wondered what he was thinking. She wondered what his full name was.

"John Neil Richards," she heard him whisper.

"Pardon?" Jane asked softly. She walked over the mound and eased herself onto the grass. Like her, John was wearing combat dress fatigues with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows.

"John Neil Richards, that was my name," he told her as she lay down on the soft greens.

Shepard couldn't understand why he was telling her this. Isn't this classified information? Isn't he very loyal to the UNSC? Jane pondered. Whatever the reasons to why he was telling her this, didn't really matter. What mattered was that he chose to tell her.

"It's got a nice ring to it," Jane smiled.

Gazing across the harbour, Jane could see where Fort Wall was. It was a few kilometres out from a dense CBD, which seemed to light up the horizon with its metropolitan lights. The place they were at, it was like the meeting grounds for nature and civilisation.

"I remember everything," John whispered.

"Remember what?" Jane asked, turning her head to face him. I think I might be invading his personal space.

John turned to face her, and even under the soft glow, she could see a very faint streak that was darker than tears. Instinctively, Jane reached out, and brushed her hand across his cheek. He did not flinch or bother to move out all. Shepard could tell that something was bothering him.

"Why is there blood on your face?" Shepard asked not bothering to hide her concern. She lifted herself gently onto her elbow to get a better angle on his face.

Silence.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," Jane reassured.

John took in a deep breath, seeming to decide if he wanted to tell her the truth or not. "My life before the Spartan program," he finally answered.

Shepard wasn't too sure if she could hear a tone of regret in his voice. "Do you regret it?"

John mulled over the question. Did he really regret becoming a Spartan? Not really no. Halsey may have taken him away from his family, but in doing so she gave him a new life, a new family, and a future.

"No," he replied.

Jane frowned slightly; she was beginning to understand the position that John was in. Self-actualisation is key towards making a perfect soldier, a clandestine master. Albeit having self-actualisation had its drawbacks on Supersoldiers, it made them susceptible to battle stress. But this was not battle stress alone, it was something more, like an age old weariness that never seems to fade away.

"I miss them," John said finally.

Would I call him a friend? Yes, I've known him for a year, Jane thought. In all the time that the two spent talking to each other, not once had the mentioned about their deepest concerns. John was calm, collective and quiet by nature; he never told Jane anything personal about him, until now.

"Who?" Jane asked, she very well understood the magnitude of trust the Spartan had placed on her.

"Friends, family, Sam and Kelly," John answered.

"Sam and Kelly?" Shepard asked, noticing the slight emphasis he put on Kelly's name.

"They were the first friends I made after entering the program."

Jane remembered the names that had been inscribed in the museum. She knew that Sam was the first Spartan-II lost in the war against the Covenant. And Kelly, she died in the Fall of Earth, along with many other Spartans. But realising how close John was to his Spartan brothers and sisters, it painted him in a new light for Shepard.

"How close were you two?" the Spectre asked, at some point in the following months after they met, the two Commanders didn't need to be literal in order to know what the other was saying.

"When we got some down time, Kelly and I would just lie under the stars and watch."

The value of this gesture, the fact that he was watching the stars, it made him seem more human in Jane's eyes. But more importantly, he was sharing this moment with her.

Jane looked down at his arms, and noticed very thin lines. She hadn't noticed them before, but realised that they were scars. They were too neat to have been gained in combat; she knew it was the augmentation process. It made some part of her cringe, though she understood the necessity of it, and the desperate need of the program.

A small buzzing sound came from John's pocket, prompting him to fish a rectangular device out of his pocket. Although AR glasses were extremely handy, Smartphones still remained in popular demand because of their longer battery life and superior processing power, also, they didn't require AR gloves or neural sync interface to be used.

John looked at the brief message sent to him and spoke. "The order's been given, we're moving out."

Jane felt a sense of elation as a great weight seemed to have been taken off her, the tide of the war is turning.

XXxxXX

MAGELLANIC CLOUDS (COALITION HELD SPACE)

The armada was breathtakingly huge. Carrier Strike Groups moved through the abyss in perfect formation, and at the front of every UNSC Fleet, was a Keyship, leading the way. Every single vessel was elegant, streamlined and seamless, the culmination of centuries of research and refining.

Sangheili ships were bulbous and sleek, retaining the designs that had transcended through the ages. It was time for them again to join their human friends in a greater struggle.

XXxxXX

"I've been to the Lesser Ark, once or twice. I heard that the surrounding clusters are up for grabs between ONISAD and Innies."

-Admiral Thomas Lasky to Air Chief Marshal Gary Weiss

XXxxXX

A/N: Hey guys…

Quick questions, do you think I've made Shepard human enough yet?
Second question, does John seem more human now?
Third question, what did you think of the name I gave him?

Please review