"You lost it!" exclaimed an officer.

"Yes, I suppose I did," Jorge chuckled.

Noble Five stood upright, hands folded behind his back, feet straight and forward, and head front with attentiveness. The Spartan seemed a little tired, and quite frankly, one might dare say exhausted. And SII of incredible feats yes, but at the end of the day, he too is still human.

Another officer came into the bridge, this one Jorge could assimilate. Having the red hair from earlier, and a slight familiar face, this was Admiral Lasky. One could immediately tell due to the other lower ranking officer turning in silence as the higher one entered.

"Spartan," said Lasky.

"Yes sir," responded Jorge.

"Your file for this engagement is very interesting if I do say so myself."

"Well, nothing is normal when you're a Spartan sir."

"Fair enough," he sat down in a bridge chair, scooting up and against the table. It faintly glowed, with a few holographic displays in the mantles.

"Matthew," he said, before a small green AI projection popped up on the glowing table.

"Yes sir," it responded, "I have overlooked the files like you have asked… and it's quite frankly offsetting."

"Explain."

A larger depiction with red entrails flared up on the table, straight for Jorge himself to see. He was caught at an interesting gaze, even through the helmet.

Lasky with a raised eyebrow titled in his chair turning to Jorge, "at ease soldier, this isn't a war zone."

Relaxing, his hands fell to his sides, and head dropped a tiny bit. When he did, he took a sigh of relief.

The front display showed a setting, it was definitely off a field of view, and was in the similar scene Jorge was just in. The more he glared the more he remembered. But to remove all doubt was the green AI Matthew, he spoke so emotionlessly,

"POV from Spartan 052 shows this image."

As the camera view shifted, it was the same huge metallic creature from earlier, in the same stance in front of the ship and the white backdrop. The recording froze, and Lasky shook his head, running his hand through his hair.

"What would a forerunner want with the apple…" he mumbled.

"Sir," Jorge said, slightly overhearing his murmur.

"Yes, Spartan."

"He said something about Eden's Curse, I am not fancy with words, but that sounds important."

"Right," he turned to Matthew as the EAI continued.

"After initial breakdown of the footage, this is the vessel of an unknown forerunner class, there was no clear BI based weapon on the hull, likely leading to this being aristocratic. The vessel itself is nothing Promethean in origin, so a warrior-servant likely is not the conclusion."

"Then… why would they want such a powerful device?"

"Designs on forerunners' armor and cape in the back indicate a builder. And a high one at that, notice his second thumb symbolized high rankage within the empire."

"We have never seen a builder before…" he turned back to Jorge, "you've dismissed Jorge, you've had a long day."

"Thank you sir," he said.

"Your AI will be updated with your new orders. But for now, head to the armory to get that armor taken off," he lightly slapped the SII's shoulder.

"Pardon?"

"We are going to be in Slipspace for a while, and your next mission won't require your armor… you're going to be a diplomat."

"Oh, that's a first… eh well this should be interesting."

Faith-Noel - Trans-Siberian Orchestra

Jorge never cared for politics, even when presidential elections were around for UNSC First Seat of High Command. It was not because he did not have the right to vote (really any SII could not either), but it was that he did not care. Him, his brothers and sisters, the Spartans, were soldiers. They were given orders, they would enact them, and move on to the next.

Jorge nodded, moving passed Wilson. As he continued to the armory, straight down corridor after another upon that vessel, many gestured with faint respect to the Spartan as he walked through, heavy step after another. They knew once again who this man was, the sacrifices he made, and stood in awe that this relic of the past who witnessed the slaughter of their ancestors was still even here… alive.

But, now again in the armory, mechanical sparks flickered around with the sounds of power machines rippled. Marines in jean overalls working and talking with other fellow Spartans, would simply gaze at this SII as he easily dwarfed even these young, up to date weapons of war.

Jorge moved next to one of the MJOLNIR mantles, taking off his helmet and glaring down to the mechanic with a faint, faded smile.

His eyes glistened with that of age, his now clean shaven face (except for his mustache of course) revealed some scars upon this man's face, and some even reaching down to his neck. The mechanic would hesitate seeing his face, but Jorge recognized this and even before, back on Reach marines even would stutter.

"Mind taking this off for me?" he said.

The guy snapped his gaze moving back to the machine, "Yea, gimme a second to adjust the height."

This circular machine had probes and long giant screwdrivers attached, and would prod and poke at the Spartan's arms and legs, unscrewing the nails and bolts from within. A loud spinning commotion was heard, but Jorge seemed emotionless even without his helmet on. Looking straight, not a single perplexion on his face. The simple smile that used to be there was replaced with the Spartan, lifeless gaze that everyone truly rumors about.

It did not take long for the machine to pry off his entire armor set. Two men were there when each piece was unscrewed to hoist off the metal. Even then, it was quite clear they were struggling to get it on the rack behind, telling of its weight. Still, Jorge remained still, just staring forward and sort of off into the distance.

It was kinda awkward for the marine who was removing the plates. He looked up to the Spartan from behind, removing the lower back support, "it's Christmas Eve, you got any plans?"

When the last of his armor was removed, the Spartan glared and looked down to himself, touching his thick black jumpsuit with his bare, open hands. They were ginormous, four times the normal size, with a few calluses on the side.

"Actually, I don't think so."

The Spartan stepped off the stage, and others around were awestruck at this Spartan, even without his armor.

Noticing their glares, Jorge nodded before leaving the armory. Sort of ignoring the marine behind him who was trying to make conversation.

Jorge relatively laid in the barracks in some military grade clothing. It was grey from head to toe, similar to what Lasky wore by not as many stripes and ranks on the chest.

He stared at the ceiling, or more of the bunk above him for a good while now. Being tired was one thing, but falling asleep was quite frankly another. In any case, he laid there in that huge bunk thinking to himself.

One might think a Spartan as old as a II might recollect, and wish they had another life, and sure, some did. But mostly, they knew no other life, and to abandon the only one they had, would be a loss. But Jorge, he never cared for the life of a soldier. He still remembered his home even as a young child before he was taken.

Only flashes, snippets of instances, like Christmas around the farmers coal fire, the popping sound of the flame. With the single gift their family could afford, a small teddy bear. Even the simplest thought about it was so comforting. It reminded him of home, his true place, and with it, his eyes drew weary, and truly fell asleep.

He must have been out for a while, as when he rolled out of bed, the lights were on to the barracks, as before they were off. He could see the grey room with bunk beds for Spartans stretched out of a few rows.

Putting on his shoes, his huge size 18 in mens military grade souls. He was about to walk out of the room, but a window on the right caught his eye. It was larger than normal, for a larger than normal person. Looking into it, he was still in his deck officer uniform, and tidying himself up a bit, he laughed, "Can't believe I slept so well."

Shaking his head, he did his best to keep out the wrinkles, and actually did a good job. This fabric must have been a good one.

Exiting the barracks, he could hear voices, faint and in another room, but definitely there. It was quiet, and still throughout the entire ship. The only thing to be heard was the voices. It caught him off-guard, for he recognized this song.

O Holy Night - Bing Crosby

They were singing this old hymn, and all he could do was be choked up. Moving down the hallway, he approached the sound of the chorus, to the mess hall. Tables were around just like normal, but men (about three dozen) were in the chairs encircled around three in the center singing this song.

They in the center Jorge could see. They smiled seeing him, and he grinned back. It was the Red Team, Douglas, Jerome, and Alice. They too were in similar officer uniforms, out of their armor, standing about the same height as Jorge.

Jerome was smiling, which caught the older Spartan Tia stutter, and not just him, but all three of his peers. He had never seen all of them smile at one time before, and this was different… and sombering.

As Noble Five approached, Douglas and Jerome came close and embraced him. Noticing Jorge was a little tearied, Douglas chuckled, "What's wrong Jorge?"

He smiled again, gently glancing around the room, "I haven't… Why the gathering?"

"Come on Jorge," Alice laughed, "it's Christmas, we haven't had a Christmas like this for well… ever."

"Eh, fat point, it just reminds me of home."

"Reach?"

He chuckled a bit, staring off into space for a moment, "Yea."

Taking a somewhat elderly grunt before sitting down in the chair next to the three SII's. He looked to the mass of marines, who weren't focused on the Spartan, but each other. One of them, obviously the lead of the choir on the right, realized the hymn was coming to a close.

As it did, Jorge sat in perfect peace, for himself, and for others. He sat and thought back to the Noble Team, each one he saluted mentally. From Noble One, to even the shade Noble Six, he honored all of them for a minute. They were family, and to understand that they were gone… it still has not hit Jorge yet, and it probably will not… if he could help it.

Jorge toasted their name, even to Emile. Many know that Emile and Jorge never got along, but still, they still were together in the end. No two men could get into a full on fist fight and be brigd' for two days and not be still bitter with one another. Unless you were family. They were more siblings, always poking at each other, trying to push each other's buttons.

But now he is not there, or any of them. It was beginning to become a reality to the SII, but the harder it came, the harder he fought back. They were still alive to him, and if they were not, soon their memory would fade. When a single tear went down his face, Jorge knew he was still not ready for this reality.

CHRISTMAS SPECIAL EEEEEE!

Yea, I had fun with this one, glad to see I am still alive right?

Oh well, here we are, and I do have a few announcements (I am getting to it so fast right haha), firstly, yes, I DID DELETE TO KILL A DEMON, I understand. I did well, because of three reasons. One, adding a third story would cause too much time for me to write, and well, I am lazy like everyone else in this world. Two, I wanted to create a story for the antagonist of this one, which I feel if I give him a story it may or may not ruin the story arch for the villian, which… I still do not want to take that risk. Three, I could see myself very quickly getting bored of it… sooo yea. I am sorry it seems like it's an ass move, and realistically, it is, but oh well, whatever. I probably will not ever bring it up again hah, just cause, after this story, I have considered other things hmm…

Anyway, onto the comments!

FIRST COMMENT SHOUTY OUTY (YEA LOOK WHO FEELS WEIRD NOWWWWW!) hahaha.

Dragon lord Syed 101 !

Carrying the tradition once again! And to your comment, PSSTTTT YOU SHOULD READ MY OTHER STORY, CAUSE IT TOTALLY IS NOT FABER EEE.

Zanzara - I have been wondering about that, and a food for thought for you. Yes, that probably would be true, but that is assuming he gets into a fight with a Jedi, or Sith in the first place. Being that this is the Master Builder, his armor is more attuned for protection if anything at all, and he would be more reliant on his mind and sentinels for attacks, so possibly, maybe…

NR 7663 - Oh yea, if you think THAT is a cool battle scene, I have plenty more than that would come from in the next two to three chapters that is gonna REALLY get the overall story going. THERE IS GONNA BE A BOOM LATER BOYS!

Mandalore the Survivor - yes I have thought about that a little bit, and well, lemme give you something. What if interbreeding technologies. Now this is sort of a spoiler, and don't expect this for a long time, but what if one makes commando lighterbased armor for a Spartan, or a compatible lighter MJOLNIR for a commando? Just a thought… but it's a nerdy one… hehe. And yea… I do find myself occasionally listening to the Republic Commando soundtrack hmmmm haha!

Yea, I hope this chapter helped to get in the season, cause it's FREAKING CHRISTMAS! I may not be one of those strange november fanatics, but I love it when it hits December like a NORMAL person haha. Oh well, likely I won't post the next one until after Christmas so well, y'all better have a damn good Christmas, and have some FUN with the new halo when it comes out TOMORROW HEHEHEHEHEHE.

Until we get drunk on eggnog again,

Stay safe, stay healthy,

~NoXXiMillioN