The crew was extremely hesitant about current circumstances. They sure as hell showed it, too.

Garrus, as always, seemed to be the spokesman for the group. "So you're telling us, that there's a 9 foot tall human from another galaxy sitting in the other room who got here by blowing up a nuke, threw half the crew around like bouncy balls in the airlock, has enough weapons to take down the Citadel, who we found floating in the middle of deep space in a spacesuit – and we're just gonna bring him to earth?" Was the incredulous statement from the Turian.

Shepard looked at him for a moment, then two. He shrugged, nodded. "Pretty much. But he's not that tall. More like 8 and a half," he replied with a smirk.

The tall turian shook his head, muttering under his breath. "Damn damn damn."

The other crew seemed to be on similar series of thoughts, with the exception of Grunt, who wasn't incredulous, but furious.

He bellowed at the Commander. "He deserves to die for what he did! He disgraced me, fought unfairly and insulted my honor! If you don't toss him out the airlock, I'll kill him myself!"

Shepard barked at the Krogan, "Calm down Grunt! You were surprised! We all were. The Master Chief was just defending himself. You'd do the same if you woke up to an unknown species playing rock, paper, scissors with your face."

"Shepard….." Came a low growl from the Krogan. A curt hand movement cut off further argument. Now was not the time.

"Us, the Chief included, have decided that it would be acceptable to post an armed guard outside the cargo bay-"

"Why the Cargo bay?" Came an inquisitive voice, Kasumi.

"Its got a lot of space to move around, in case something goes wrong. Plus, we've got the two side bays up top for… observation purposes. In addition, it probably limits access to nonessential systems. He's already made his way there-"

"You let it wander the ship on its own?!"

"Of course not. I took him there myself – he's locked in there."

"On its own."

"Well..."

"Shepard. I told you at the start I thought this was a bad idea. I still do. We know next to nothing about this thing, we picked it up literally in the middle of the most remote part in the damn galaxy, and now we're its glorified taxi service to ferry it around to earth?" Garrus was infuriated. And to be fair, he was the one used as the hostage in the brief altercation in the airlock, and he was the one that did indeed try and convince the Commander this was a bad idea.

The rest of the crew was uncharacteristically quiet, obviously in agreement with the Turian soldier.

Shepard sighed. He had his doubts as well. But what outweighed his doubts, was his curiosity. He could almost taste the unknown with this. He just wanted to figure out what was going on, whatever that took. It was a mystery, that for some reason, he felt he was obligated to solve. His instincts had served him well in his hunt for the Sovereign, and something was telling him not to jump to conclusions in this case.

"Listen… If… if this is actually a first contact scenario, which it very well might be – I don't want to introduce the Citadel by killing the first one we meet. That looks kinda bad. The only reason I even agreed that we head to earth, are because there's a lot more higher-ups that can make these kinda calls. There's politicians for diplomacy, there's guards in case things get out of hand." He sighed again, running the hand that wasn't holding his helmet through his short hair. "I'd much rather things explode when we've got the entire Alliance around than when we're on a ship – alone – with it. Okay?"

Garrus stared, examining both the Commander and the statement with a scrutiny usually only observed for Salarian scientists in a microbiology lab, or Joker in a strip club. The Turian shook his head, muttering one more time for the record, "this is a bad idea."

Taking the statement as a chance to move on, Miranda was the next who spoke. "Obviously, we're going to have a couple ground rules while we figure out what's going on." They all nodded, except Jack, who sneered and seemed to whisper something akin to the proper noun of a female canine.

"First off – no one – and that means no one, is allowed to make verbal or even visual contact without authorization. That goes through me first, and then through Shepard. We'll post a two man detail to guard the cargo bay at all times, and they have to check in with both of us if they get any visitors. Second – No one is to touch his guns. That point was made very clear when we took him to the cargo bay. Tali, I'm looking at you."

"I was there! I heard it when we talked about this the first time!"

A pause. Waiting.

"uuuggggg okay!"

Miranda nodded, satisfied with the answer, and the established rules.

The crew affirmed their agreement, and were subsequently dismissed.

As they left the small room, Shepard got the sneaking suspicion that things were about to take a wild turn.

OOOO

It was the first time John had to sit down and think for a while now. Too long. The Commander and his chosen crew had come to an agreement with him. Basically the good old fashioned "you don't fuck with us, we don't fuck with you," as some strong language loving marines he knew would be fond to say.

Regardless, it was not unwelcome. Even a Spartan needed to sit down and reassess the situation every once in a while. As the Chief instinctively surveyed the cargo bay for possible escape routes, ambush points and corners to watch, his mind finally caught up with the events of his past escapades. The war was over. Officially. The UNSC Infinity had confirmed as much during his all too brief stay aboard the Navy's flagship. That in of itself, while not overwhelming to him, was difficult to process. The past 30 years of his life were enveloped in the conflict, from ship to ship, planet to planet in a desperate effort to stay the tide.

Now it was over.

A new threat had subsequently taken its place, and just as quickly was defeated, but not without cost. The Chief had not been able to reach the Composer before it was activated, presumably devastating cities below. And it was over too. Earth was safe, his duty was complete. So why wasn't he satisfied?

The answer to that was easy – at least for him. Cortana. She had sacrificed herself, for him. He caught her last words to the Didact before the detonation. It saddened him immensely. He could not imagine being the direct cause of the sacrifice of someones soul on his behalf. That was his job. He was, for all intents and purposes, entirely alone.

His Spartans, presumably dead after the events of Reach, were no more.

Blue Team, his small cadre of close-knit warriors, had not been seen since his return to Earth from the events regarding Reach, Halo, and the Unyielding Hierophant.

Sergeant Avery Johnson was gone, killed by the forerunner AI in the last desperate moments of the conflict. It irked him that the tough Sergeant Major, who fought from the outset of the war through dozens of conflicts, who made it to the very end, the climax, was killed in its last action. He was one of the few men that the Chief would readily call his friend.

Doctor Halsey and Kelly, who disappeared without prior warning before they had even reached Earth, were official MIA, presumed dead.

Miranda Keyes, along with her father – dead.

Even the Arbiter, his unexpected ally who had joined him in the final battle, was gone.

He was well and truly alone. It never bothered him before. He always had another mission, another goal, his duty to fulfill and enemies to fight. Maybe because he had never been offered this much time to just… think. It was hard to process. His emotions, already jaded through the horrors of the most destructive war in the history of humanity, the discovery of the flood, were causing him pause as he worked to process, and subsequently, compartmentalize them. He took a deep breath, boxed his feelings and his reflections, and looked around. Reminiscing – regretting- wouldn't help him hear. He needed action. Motion. To do something.

He focused on what he knew: He had been, well, essentially captured, aboard an unknown vessel of unknown dimensions and classifications, in an unknown location full of unknown aliens with an unknown agenda. That was a lot of things he didn't know. He knew there was something wrong with the ships AI, that much was certain. He had been surprised initially when the discovery had been made relative to his actual position, but he boxed that up too. It couldn't be. It was unreasonable – no, impossible – that certain fact to be true. He shoved all possibilities of the implied aside. They were playing with his head, trying to discover something, a subtle form of interrogation perhaps, urging him to subconsciously divulge classified information and betray his UNSC. He was better than that. He would play along for now. He knew how these situations worked – it had been thoroughly covered in his training. There would be a point, a critical moment, when aggression would reach their boiling point. And right then, just before they started to tip over, was when he'd strike. But for now, he needed information, and they were readily providing it.

He supposed they probably did not realize the amount of information they had divulged in his brief conversations aboard the ship so far. This was a militarized – not a military – vessel, and while not armed to the teeth, served a specific purpose. The crew was well trained, but unprofessional and, in some cases, quite inexperienced. They did not seem to recognize him, a Spartan, which meant that they must be far flung outcasts of the UEG, whose isolation had obviously led to some unique discoveries. Yet they pretended to act in behalf of Earth. His eyes narrowed at the thought. He knew how terrorists 'protected' earth. He had been more than privy to experience the atrocities at the hands of the insurrectionists. At times, they were almost as bad as the Covenant, butchering thousands with seemingly no agenda in mind but hatred.

They were taking him to earth. At least that's what they told him. He instantly saw through that lie. An outcast terrorist group, in possession of a UNSC Spartan, with multiple unidentified species. The thought that they had so blatantly lied to him was almost laughable. And confusing. Confusing enough to keep from hijacking the ship and piloting it himself to his desired destination.

It also raised the question. How? He was in orbit of earth but hours ago. He reviewed his mission logs, and watched for the familiar signs of recognizable constellations to pass his gaze. Nothing. He frowned. That was strange. He must've fallen into the portal and transported here – to an empty region of space.

Something was also slowly crawling under his skin. The lie they told him was ridiculous. Pathetic really. Yet the way they did it was very convincing. It was almost as if they themselves were genuinely confused at the situation.

And so he waited, and pondered, for about an hour, by his count, when a thought occurred to him. He reached to the back of his helmet, and pulled free a small, black data chip. It no longer glowed with energy, or left an icy feeling in his head. His friend was truly gone. It hit him then. Cortana…. He had not kept his promise. He had failed her. What's more, he betrayed her. She had trusted him to fulfill his ill-made promise, and he hadn't followed through.

The Chief closed his eyes, his thoughts reflecting on his best friend. Her quirky mannerisms, her sense of humor, her sometimes unprofessional and playful attitude. Being with her, it was the closest to normal he ever felt. He had lived surrounded with those of a military and tactical mindset his whole life, and she was the closest thing to a civilian he ever spent more than a few hours with, with the exception of Doctor Halsey. He had a sneaking suspicion she felt the same way around him. "I'm sorry…" He quietly whispered. He opened his eyes, placed the chip back in its place, and stood. Someone was coming.

OOOO

The Commander made his way from the elevator to the doors of the cargo bay. 'Hmm. That's strange.' The walk seemed longer than before. As he finally arrived at the large bay doors of the cargo hold, he took a deep breath. The newcomer, Master Chief, as he was apparently known as, was standing stiff as a board, staring right at him, as if he had predicted his coming. It was almost unnerving.

He held his hands up, it was meant as a gesture of peace, but it somehow came off defensive. "I just want to talk. The crew is a little nervous about having you onboard, and I want to clear up a few things." A nod greeted him. "Okay, I guess we can get a few things out of the way, so lets go over some accommodations." A head cocked – confused. He was quick to clarify, "I'm talking about sleeping arrangements, meals, showers and such. You're… human, so I think we can cover the basics with that. Is there anything specifically you'd like to request?"

The Chief, for his part, was thoroughly confused. He was in the position to make requests? He was new to being a prisoner, but this was… different. "Negative."

The Commander nodded. "I can have a bunk brought down and placed anywhere you'd like, just point it out and I'll get it done."

"That won't be necessary." The bunk wouldn't hold him in his armor, and he had absolutely no intention of taking it off; he had slept for years in more uncomfortable places. Wait- they hadn't asked him to take off his armor…

Commander Shepard continued, "I can have a crew member bring you meals from time to time, the crew just really isn't too hot on having you wander the ship on your own. As for showers and the restroom, I'll have to ask that the guards accompany you to and from the room, they'll stand outside of course. I'm sorry for the suspicion, we've just had a lot on our hands lately."

The confusion continued. Why were they granting him this much freedom? He had attacked their crew, proven dangerous, and this was how they reacted? By apologizing to him?

"I understand that this is a unique situation, and I hope that we can come to some sort of understanding… If you don't mind me asking… who – what are you?"

It was an honest question. The Chief could tell that much. He could give an honest answer.

"UNSC asset Sierra-117 of the Spartan – II project."

A stare. Okay, maybe that's not exactly what the Commander had been looking for.

"Yeah, I gathered that… at least some of it at least. I meant more along the lines, who are you? I've taken a fat risk putting you on my ship, and I have more than one crew member who is utterly convinced this is a mistake. Convince me otherwise."

That gave John thought. Who was he? He was a Spartan. He always was. 'Well, not always...' but he always would be. A voice echoed in his head – not his voice.

"When this is all over – promise me you'll find out which one of us is the machine."

He hadn't said yes. But in his head he meant to.

He didn't answer the Commander either. He seemed to narrow his eyes back, trying to peer through the gold visor. Then sighed, "I guess I can't force your hand. Just remember, there's only so much leeway I can give." Shepard turned on his heels and left. His last question flew through the Chief's head, replacing with Cortana's voice.

"Who are you?"

OOOO

"It's your turn to go bring him food! I did it last time!"

"I did it yesterday! Go ask Garrus to do it."

"He's on guard duty, he can't do it! Please just this once! I'll stop stealing your stuff!"

"What about Jacob?"

"With Miranda filing reports."

"Grunt?"

"Eating.

"Zaeed?"

"Are you crazy?"

"… Samara?"

"Meditating."

"Thane?"

"Ugh no he's creepy. Tali please."

" ."

"Please?"

"Ugggg okay okay I'll do it! But you can't ask me again."

"Thanks Tali, you're the best."

"Shut up."

Tali sighed as her argument with Kasumi finally died down, and the thief slinked away, as thiefs do. She should've been ecstatic to go deliver a meal to the Cargo bay's new occupant. The suit of armor he wore was incredibly advanced, new designs and architecture she had never seen before – and truthfully, she was curious – incredibly so. She wanted to ask, but every time, it unnerved her. This was her 3rd time already. Over the past 4 days, each of the crew had taken turns bringing food down from the mess hall to give to the 'Master Chief'. He was silent as a rock. Moved less too. But when he did, it was fast. Fluid. Tali had been privilege to a training session that the giant probably thought was secret that she watched from one of the windowed cargo side rooms, as he set to spar invisible enemies. The movements were blindingly quick. It was frightening that something so big could move so fast. Grunt was fast, but even his movements were comparatively sluggish compared to the green armored figure.

She tried her best to calm her prickled nerves, and slow her heart. She took a deep breath as she waited in the elevator with the Master Chief's meal. A double serving, thanks to Vega. Tali personally thought he was big enough for three, but who was she to argue. The elevator doors opened, startling her from her thoughts. She tried to straighten her posture, to appear not in the least bit frightened. Jack and Garrus stood by the doors. The guard rotation had annoyed the young biotic to no end, and she was taking it out on Garrus with a passion.

-arrus, you ever wondered what a Turian looks like inside out?"

" ."

"Cuz I sure as hell have. Wanna find out for real?"

"No."

"DID I ASK YOU TO SPEAK YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT?"

Garrus sighed. He knew what was going on. The biotics impatience was getting the better of her. And it was starting to get the better of him too.

Tali caught the tail end of the 'conversation' as she rounded exited the elevator. Garrus nodded, clearly fed up. He pressed a button, and the cargo bay doors opened up, allowing her access. There the giant sat, near a large crate, motionless as always.

The Quarian stepped in, the doors closing behind her. This was the worst part. She walked over, slowly, in clear line of sight, and set the food on a nearby crate , next to the sitting giant, who looked at her, with that impassive visor. Tali was no stranger to, well, strangers in suits. She in fact had lived her whole life encapsulated in her envirosuit. Which made the green stranger all the more confusing to her. He was human – wasn't he? If so, why did he wear that armor? Was it keeping him alive? Was he like her, with a compromised immune system only protected by the confines of the metal? He certainly reminded her more of a robot than anything she'd come across. Almost… Almost like a Geth. She shook her head at that thought, then looked up. The giant was staring quizzically at her. Her eyes widened, as she realized how long she had been standing there, thinking.

"Uhhh…. Enjoyyourmeal." She blurted out.

The head cocked, almost humorously. She couldn't back out now. She had twice already. It was already awkward, what would this change?

A hand made its way to the opposite arm, gripping nervously. "Um… Master Chief? I was wondering…. Can I…. would it be okay… would you mind if I… looked at your armor – just for a second I promise!"

A stare, accompanied by silence greeted her. Maybe he didn't hear her. Just as she opened her mouth to ask again, he spoke. The voice was so rough it sent chills down her spine. "No."

Her shoulders drooped. "You have to understand – I'm a Quarian, we are always in our enviro-suits. It's part of who we are. I just want to… to look at yours… for a moment." Keelah- how harebrained and awkward did that sound?! 'I want to look at your suit… Might I also take it off? I could show you mine's features?' She kicked herself mentally for her stupid comment.

"I mean-"

"No."

"Please? I promise I won't touch anything?"

"No."

Her brows bunched. She had worked up the courage to come down here, to finally ask what she had been pining to do for days now, and he just says, 'no'? The absolute nerve. Before she could finally understand what her mood had shifted to, she replied.

"Fine. Just sit there in your big green suit and don't talk to anyone and don't move and don't take your helmet off and just eat your damn meal. Nobody cares anyways. Enjoy." She started to walk away, when she realized what she had said. Her eyes widened. Uh-oh. That's not how she wanted it to come out. She turned around slowly, inching her way backwards towards the door, her feet not trusting her brain to remedy the situation. She looked nervously at the subject of her outburst, who still sat and looked at her with that gold visor.

What happened next surprised her. He laughed. Or so she thought. It was gruff- low and short, more of a huff than anything, not really a laugh, but what she'd imagine an exhale with voice to sound. Her eyes widened even more. Then, without a further thought, her legs took the wheel and ferried her out the door before she could say a word.

'It's really isn't a robot…'

OOOO

"Commander, whats the play here? We've got a good objective, but its… the lead up that gets me."

The biotic commander looked at the speaker, Jacob. He nodded, a valid question. 'This was the last mission, I swear', he thought. He had been using the two soldiers as a crutch lately, leaning on them heavily when the shit hit the fan. And they were doing marvelously. But Shepard of all people knew what if felt like to be run into the ground. They needed a break.

Time to make a plan. "I'm taking Miranda and Jack down the back way, we'll break in once the signal goes out. Grunt and Samara will take the front door, and then Thane will provide over watch on their position. As soon as they move to counter, take your team and hit them from the side, alright?"

Nods. They had only recently arrived at the site of their newest adventure, no time for in depth reconnaissance. They were here to recover a Prothean artifact, a rumor had it that it was another beacon – but Shepard didn't buy it. The Illusive Man would've outright said so if it was. That is, if even he knew.

The artifact, apparently hidden away in some mercenary ware house, was surrounded by a few dozen guards. 'Blue Suns...', he thought. 'Of course'. It always was. The second group, led by Garrus would hit the facility from the north. Situated on the outskirts of Port Hanshan on Noveria, the facility was blocky and stout, more like a warehouse than anything else. Surrounded on both sides by rocky crags topped with snow, it was settled nicely into a mountain pass that provided easy options for security.

Shepard got the chills from coming back to Noveria. The events of recent times was fresh on his memory. 'That was before I died,' he thought, humor drier than a dad joke.

Vega and Tali had been left to guard the Master Chief, with slight convincing on Tali's part – both hadn't seemed too happy about the prospect. But he needed all other hands on deck for this op. This was the last stop on the way to earth. They could hunker down for a bit, take a breather, and drop off their package at an Alliance base, 'won't be our problem for too much longer,' he though smugly. He would be glad to get the Master Chief off their hands – it was causing an increasing amount of disunity among the group, and they were getting anxious. Reports to the Illusive Man had been thorough, but Shepard vehemently disagreed when it was suggested that he be brought in for study.

He suspected things would take a turn for the worse if the Chief suspected that instead of being sent to earth, he was suddenly dropped off into the hands of a suspicious paramilitary group that very nearly bordered the line of 'terrorism'. Better to keep his word in this case.

The biotic Commander focused his thoughts, looking at the small team beside him, feeling the hatred emanate from each of them. He smiled softly to himself. Good times.

They moved into position, sneaking past a guard's sight line as they made their way to a nearby boulder, ready to hit the facility from multiple directions. This ambush tactic had worked well lately – they had been using it to great success against the Batarians, and as they always say, 'if it ain't broke, it don't need fixin.' They scurried into cover, each biotic on either side of him.

"You know the drill, get in find whatever they're trying to keep secret, get out. Jack, I don't need you getting caught in a firefight in here. That's Grunts job."

She snarled, very Kroganlike, "shut the hell up and just let me-"

"Jack. You know this is punishment for earlier."

"Yeah, well, he deserved it, couldn't wipe that smug look off his face himself could he?"

"Now is not the time. You ready?"

"Fuck you." He took that as a yes, then looked at his second, who nodded back, clearly irritated. He chuckled. This was going to be fun.

heyheyhey

Quickly, I do apologize for the chapter length, I know they're pretty short. My original intention was to keep them on the shorter side to minimize time between updates and keep myself more motivated for grinding out this story, but it seems like the majority of the reviews are liking the longer chapters, so I'll try giving that a shot. In my personal opinion, I'm a fan of getting 3-4 short chapters every couple weeks then one super long chapter every 2 months.

By the way, I love correction. If you notice spelling errors, please let me know! It literally takes me 30 seconds to fix, and you're helping us all out. I try my best to proofread, but I'm definitely not the best at catching my own mistakes. I would also really appreciate if you told me about any plot holes that I missed in writing, and I'll do my best to get those fixed.

Couple of thoughts really quick- I'm a big fan of the Mass Effect Universe, I think Bioware did an amazing job of capturing the culture of an alien society with unique worlds and a totally unique story. Little things, like omnitools, eezo, the Citadel, that's stuff from a good imagination. I think it was one of the best imagined universes in a video game of its style.

In terms of Halo, the Master Chief is arguably the greatest hero in video game history, when you think about it. He saved the galaxy. Multiple times. Of course others did that, like Shepard for example, but the Master Chief did most of that stuff almost entirely on his own. He's one of the greatest simple protagonists ever made in my opinion. If you look at the script for the first 3 halo games, Chief has probably 15 lines in each. Yet with those 15 lines, he establishes a more lovable personality than most writers can do with hundreds. He's pretty much the closest thing you can get to a superhero without being a superhero. I like him because I think he exhibits humanity in a perfect light. No matter what awful things happen to people, the horrible events happening, you can still be good inside.

Last thing here, I wanted to talk about weaponry, specifically, the Mass Effect mass accelerator weaponry. Supposedly, they shoot tiny shavings of metal at insanely high velocities, solving the problem of ammunitions droughts permanently. And i agree, its a pretty cool thought. There's one problem - stopping power. There's a reason that a lot of arms manufacturers are trying to experiment around - moving away from- the 5.56 round. Its small and incredibly fast, which is the problem. It goes right through targets. If you've ever talked with someone who's had actual combat experience, they'd probably agree that its a lot harder to put someone down with a 5.56 than other rounds. Slower, heavier rounds, are almost always guaranteed more stopping power. That's probably my biggest gripe about ME, its just kinda unrealistic that this has been the solution. I don't know how the cannon works on this, but to actually bring the canon some credibilty, for the purposes of this story, when a mass accelerator round is fired, the mass effect field will actually increase the mass as it leaves the gun, giving it that oh so good stopping power.

Thanks for reading guys, it means a lot that this many people actually seem to enjoy this story so soon.