1Disclaimer: I do not own halo or anything in it. Bungie and Microsoft own it, not me. 'Nuf said.
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I am the one-hundred seventeenth Spartan. I am the perfect soldier. I am the leader of the Spartans. I am lethal. I am fast. I am strong. I am clever. I am John. And I am only mortal. This is a personal log I am creating preceding my recent mission. It will be something I will use as a reminder that I am human. Every once in a while I lose grip of my humanity. I don't feel anything except for the occasional burn of plasma fire or the even rarer sting of lead. I don't feel hatred for the enemy, or at least that's what I've lead myself to believe. This will be a reminder to me that I do feel. And if my luck holds out, to show everyone Spartans do die. I know so more than anyone.
At the start of the war, I only fought the covenant because I was told to. Later, I fought them also because I have seen how relentless and unforgiving they were to those not even involved in the war. But now, I am contradicting myself. I remember telling myself that I did not hate the covenant, I killed them merely because I was told to. I told Cortanna so, later on. But, during one of the skirmishes on Halo, I found how I had contradicted myself.
(/video feed/: spartan117john/date:N/A/Day:N/A/Year:2552)
Marine one: "It's all clear here, sir. No covenant detected."
Marine two: "Sir, may we camp now?"
Sergeant: "Yes. Set up camp here. We've been fighting two days straight. Not one of us has caught a wink of sleep. If anyone here needs it it's the Master Chief."
John: "Please, sir, I'd rather be standing guard."
Sergeant: "I don't think that will be the case. You won't fight so good if you don't get at least an hour's sleep."
John: "One hour of sleep it is, then I stand guard duty."
Sergeant: sigh "There's no winning with you when it comes to these matters, I suppose. Fine, one hour sleep and then guard duty."
one hour later
John alertly looked about the tall trees and foliage about the four tents of the tiny camp. He thought to himself that marines are a liability on the field, not someone to rely on. They are a lot less stronger than he is. It was his job to protect him.
John: "Cortanna, anything on the radar?"
Cortanna: "Negative. Radars aren't showing any signs of motion, other than one of the marines turning in their sleep every now and then. You know, you really should use some sleep. My data shows your efficiency in combat slightly declining since every night you haven't slept."
John: "I can't sleep."
Cortanna: "I assume this doesn't have to do with the covenant, does it?"
John: "Partly."
Cortanna: "What is it, then?"
John: "Linda."
Cortanna: "She'll be fine. Statistics show that if we get her to a medical establishment within a week she can be brought back to normal."
John: "And if the Pillar of Autumn is destroyed?"
Cortanna stayed silent. She could've reassured him that Linda wasn't on the POA anymore, that when it began evacuating the cryotubes were the first to go, but it would put him in worse condition. All she could do was stay silent. Sometimes she wished she had a physical body, to comfort him. She knew he hurt a lot inside, all she could do for him was talk. He couldn't even see her while she was in his mind, the closest she knew she'd ever get to him.
Suddenly, some shrubs shifted silently. Faint footsteps across the grass and dirt made their way closer to the camp. The blue glow of plasma swords illuminated the darkness with a ghostly blue aura.
Cortanna: "camouflaged elites present! Picking up motions from five different areas! They're flanking us from all sides!"
John: "Everyone get up! Covenant present! Camouflaged elites at all sides!"
Three armed humans rushed out of each tent, bearing assault rifles. The staccato lights and sounds from the rifle illuminated the encampment and a few of the rounds bounced off elite shields and caused them to become semi-visible. They looked like poltergeists while their transparent forms advanced to the humans. One of their shields failed, and yellow sparks and purple blood marked the pale blue armor and the elite fell, making sickly noises. As it's sword fell, the failsafe activated and flashed a bright blue light. The chief saw all that was illuminated by the flash. Two of the elites fell, and ten of the marines, with them. One of the elites slashed a marine in two vertically, while he screamed for a second in agony, but was soon unable to do so, only making gurgling noises as he fell in pieces. The sergeant pulled out a grenade and pulled the pin as an elite drove the blade into his torso. With his dying breath, he muttered "See you in hell!" as the grenade exploded, destroying both of them in a bloom of flames and smoke.
The last two elites advanced to the Master Chief. One from his front, the other from his back. He looked back and forth at the two. The one behind him was covered in red blood, the one in front of him had kept him from getting at the marines by skillfully rolling out of the path of the chief's bursts. Of course, not without sustaining some damage. The one behind him lunged forward, hoping to send it's blade headfirst into the Spartan. John spun in place, simultaneously grabbing it's wrist and pushing him into the forward elite, the energy blade plunging into his chest between his shoulders and under his neck. It vomited violet blood, and moved no more. Out of rage, the chief dropped his rifle, and drove his open fist into the center of the elite's chest. It exhaled deeply and they both fell to the ground.
John thought to himself: This is the reason so many people have fallen. So many innocents dead. So many soldiers dying over this 'religious war'. This is why his fellow soldiers died. His team mates, his friends. No, his family. Even Spartans died, but they only died by the hands of the covenant. For all the fallen Spartans! He gripped the elite's sword hand until the sound of bones breaking, and took the sword out of it's mangled had. For Sam! He drove it into the chest, where the heart should be. It let out an anguished scream. ....For Linda... He punched it so hard in the side of the face the helmet dented and it's head partially went into the ground. Its neck moved so violently it snapped as it turned. The Chief stood, walked a few steps, then fell on his knees.
John: "Linda...."
Cortanna: "John, are you okay? Everything isn't reading normal-"
John: "I'm fine." he said as he cut her off.
Cortanna: "no you're not. What you just shouted contradicts most of what you've told me. You don't change your mind easily. That means that these past few events have had a great impact on you."
John: "I... thought I was talking to myself."
Cortanna: "No, you were thinking out loud."
John: "I need help." he said with sorrow in his voice.
Cortanna: "I'm here to listen." she said, wishing she could do and say so much more.
(/video feed/: spartan117john/date:N/A/Day:N/A/Year:2552)end
Should I die in my current mission, I will be listed as MIA. My family, however, will know I am dead, or at least, the rest of them. I wish all of us could be there with me on Earth. But all but five of us lived. And Kelly was nowhere to be seen. The Gettysburg will reach Earth any moment. And the fate of mankind will be decided. The Spartans are supposed to be what stopped the covenant. And there are only four of us to fight on Earth. I have so much I want to say and do before then, but I only have less than an hour before we reach Earth. I don't want Linda or any of the others to get hurt. So I'll keep them from getting hurt as long as possible by being the first one to engage. I will protect my family, whatever it takes. Even if it means killing entire races to do so.
I am Spartan 117. I am strong. I am fast. I am clever. I am humanity's last hope. I am John. And I am only mortal.