Disclaimer: I do not own Bungie, Halo, or any of its related trademarks. (I wish I did though)

This is my first fanfic, and I would greatly appreciate it if you guys would R&R. Since it's my first, I don't mind criticism, so don't be afraid to bash it to pieces. Anyway, read and enjoy. XD

Chapter 1

0933 hours, June 19, 2556 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Vessel Aurelius, Salusa Primus system, near planet Solitude

John, Spartan 117, stood on the deck of the Aurelius, staring at the barren planet that was Solitude. The name fit well. It was a planet that consisted almost entirely of mountains and deserts. It had a few mountain lakes, and only one small sea. Not only was it a very lonely locale, but it also made a good hiding place.

The reason he was here was that a rogue Covenant faction had made their base of operations here. Since the defeat of the Covenant three years ago, tens of thousands of Covenant refugees had escaped annihilation, and formed several different rebel factions. Always a constant nuisance, they were always trying to foil the UNSC in some way, whether through sabotage, cloak-and-dagger tactics, or open, all-out attacks. Since then, John and the Marine Corps had wiped out most of them. However, the more intelligent and better-organized rebels kept slipping from the UNSC's grasp.

Then, three weeks ago, they caught an extremely lucky break when an old space probe was accidentally pulled into Solitude's orbit. It crash-landed, but managed to keep functioning due to it's thick titanium-A casing. It picked up very unusual activity on the planet's surface. It was still sending a signal, but even then, Naval personnel ignored the readings, thinking it was a malfunction from the crash. What did catch their attention was the sudden cutoff of the signal. Normally, it would take some time for it to die out, even from a serious technical failure. Few things could cause a signal from an MS-3 probe to stop that quickly, the Covenant being among them. They took a closer look at the recorded readings, and realizing that it could only be one of the factions, immediately alerted UNSC High Command. John was called to duty, and loaded aboard the Aries-class destroyer, Aurelius.

Three weeks of cryo-suspension later, here he was.

"Sir."

John was suddenly snapped back to reality. He looked at the man that addressed him. It was the Second Mate.

"What is it?"

The man shook and sweated profusely as he tried to form words. Not many men could stand face-to-face with the Master Chief in his MJOLNIR Mark VI armor and not do so. The Chief waited a little longer, and he finally managed to speak.
"S-Sergeant Malkins and Lieutenant Johnson report that they're g-going to the surface in f-fifteen minutes." Malkins was the heading the ODST, or Helljumper, contingent on board. The LT was in charge of a whole company of normal Marines. John began the walk to the launch-bay.

Until two months ago, Johnson had been a Sergeant. On that day, Johnson had saved thirty-three men that had been pinned down in an abandoned bunker by the Covenant. Using a clever strategy, he had baited the attackers into a small room, trapped them, and blown them all to hell with concealed Lotus antitank mines.

He had refused the promotion at first, like many others before it, but his CO, a close friend named Liston, had eventually convinced him to take the promotion, so he had grudgingly accepted it. Now, even though he was technically in charge of the operation, he promptly refused to give orders to John. He claimed that, by now, John should be a three-star General, and that he respected him too much to order him around.

Of course, John had been offered promotions several times as well, but he too refused. He liked his position just as it was. It reminded him of all his fellow Spartans who had died in the past. Sam . . . Anton . . . Fred . . . Kelly. He suddenly stopped as he remembered that Kelly wasn't officially dead. She had gone missing four years ago when Dr. Halsey, the person who had made him what he was, had abducted Kelly and disappeared into slipspace with her. But that was a long time ago, and no trace of them had ever been found. Even though the only logical conclusion was that they had died long ago, He couldn't help but retain that small bit of hope that they were still alive. Dr. Halsey's disappearance was also the reason why he still wore the MJOLNIR IV. No one quite had the good doctor's level of intelligence and innovation, and no one had ever been able to develop an advanced model of the armor. They had certainly tried.

John returned to the present as walked into the bay. He saw some fifty ODSTs loading their equipment into their pods for the drop to the planet below. The other marines under Johnson's command were getting ready as well, but they weren't heading to the surface, at least not yet. They were there as reinforcements. John hoped they wouldn't need them, but he knew that was very unlikely. He walked over to a weapons locker and grabbed four frag grenades, a BR55 battle rifle, two SMGs, and three clips for each. He stuffed the grenades into his belt, and carried the rest to a pod. He secured them, sat down on a nearby bench, and began a manual systems check of his armor. He was nearly done when the holopad next to him flickered to life, and a familiar purple hologram appeared on it.

"Forget somebody?" said Cortana.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," replied John, not even glancing up.

"So you were expecting me?"

"Yes, I was."

"Really?" she said sarcastically. "So you knew I'd come to this exact terminal?"

"Yes," he said as he finished the check. "That's why there's a data card in terminal."

"Wha-?" she said, surprised for a millionth of a second as she scanned the card slot. But,

ho- . . . never mind." She had learned long ago not to even attempt to predict his actions. "Anyway, Chief, we've found the general area that this particular faction is occupying, based upon enemy movements, but I can't pinpoint it's exact location. It seems to be somewhere underground. Looks like you're going to have to do a little recon work."

"That's fine by me," he said as he took a quick look around the bay. Malkins was already beginning the usual pre-drop speech to the Helljumpers as all of them, including Malkins, started their final checks. Cortana continued,

"Okay. We'll be landing two miles from the edge of enemy activity, on a large mesa. Hopefully, you'll land with fifty-two intact ODSTs. Your window for this op is sixty hours. Got it?"

"Affirmative."

"Alright. You ready to yank me?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Ha ha," she muttered sarcastically as she disappeared into the pad. John pulled out the card, and inserted it into the slot in the back of his head. He felt the all too familiar feeling of ice cold mercury rushing into his head. He had missed that.

"Well, I see you can still build a cruiser in all this empty space," said her voice inside his head.

"Very funny," he replied. He leaned back into his pod, secured his straps, and re-checked everything just in time to hear Malkins recite the usual Helljumper sendoff:

"All right, Helljumpers. Shove a cork in your ass!"

The hatch slid over John's pod, sealing him inside. He steeled himself for the launch, and barely heard Cortana's whisper.

"Geronimo," she said in a virtual exhalation as their pod was launched into the void.