Remember in the last chapter when I compared myself to DBZ Abridged? Well, Teamfourstar released the latest episode which means I have to release the latest chapter in order to avoid looking bad. I take solace in the fact that Episode 28 of DBZA took two months while Chapter 21 of this schlock only took one. Enjoy.
...
0600 Hours, March 3rd, 2683
SSV Normandy
Undisclosed Location in the Exodus Cluster
...
Master Chief opened his eyes and checked the clock. Six am, as usual. He took one last second to enjoy the forbidden pleasure that was a decent bed, before unfurling the covers and putting on his armor. "Morning, Chief."
"Morning, Cortana." Chief said as he looked over to Cortana's holographic image on the room's PC. He paused in putting on his armor.
"...What?" Cortana asked, off put by how her Spartan was staring at her.
"You're pink." Chief said.
Cortana's holographic model looked very different than it did yesterday. Her face and overall body shape were still the same, but instead of a calming shade of blue, Cortana was now hot pink in color, and her hair was now long and flowing like a blonde movie star. Additionally, she wore a long, elegant dress that was also pink and had only one strap draping over one of her shoulders. Cortana grabbed her dress and observed it, then carefully examined her hand.
"Really?" Cortana asked. "I thought it was just lightish red." She turned to the Chief and smirked. The Spartan just kept giving that neutral stare of his. She rolled her eyes upon realizing that her Spartan didn't appreciate her little joke. He rarely does. "Well, Garrus said I was too recognizable so I thought I'd try a new look. What do you think?"
"...You're hot pink." Chief said.
"You don't care for hot pink?" Cortana asked. Chief shook his head before putting his helmet on. "Well, this'll just be my disguise for when we meet strangers." Her dress and long hair disappeared in a flurry of pixels as she went from pink to blue. "When it's just you and me though, I'll stick to 'classic Cortana.'"
"Sounds good." Chief said as he stood up.
"So, what's on today's agenda?" Cortana asked.
Chief paused in thought. "Chakwas is taking care of Liara's medical training. Ashley should be drilling Tali on that shooting range later today. Those are the only two that need proper training, I think. Everyone else should already know how to use their weapons."
"So you totally trust N'tho with a portable plasma cannon?"
"...I'll drill him once his shift starts." Chief quickly decided. "Meantime, I'll grab a quick breakfast and head down to the garage myself."
"Gonna shoot at holographic dummies four meters in front of you?" Cortana asked.
"Not like there's much else for me to do right now." Chief replied with a shrug. With that, he left his quarters.
...
After eating his breakfast and drinking his early morning coffee, Master Chief got into the elevator and rode it down to the garage. There were usually one or two people down by the firing range whenever he visited it, but this was the first time that he visited it this early in the morning, so hopefully he'd have it to himself this time.
No such luck. When the elevator stopped and the door opened, Tali was there, lazily shooting at the holographic dummies. Chief raised an eyebrow underneath his helmet and walked up to the Quarian. "Tali?" He asked.
Tali lazily turned towards the Spartan. "Oh. Hello Chief." she said in a dreary tone.
"According to your work schedule, your shift isn't due to start for another two hours. What are you doing up so early?" Chief asked.
"Couldn't sleep." Tali answered as she fired off some shots at the target with her pistol.
"It shows. You're missing." Chief said. The holographic dummy was, rather than being red in one spot, orange all over.
"It's just...the ship runs so quietly." Tali said.
"The silence kept you up all night?" Chief asked, a little confused by that statement.
"Back on the flotilla, the last thing you want to hear is silence." Tali explained. "It usually means an engine's died or an air filter's shut down. I guess you don't have to worry about that here, but old habit die hard."
The Quarian put down her pistol and walked over to the mako. She leaned against it and sighed wistfully. "But it's more than just the silence." she went on. "The Normandy runs so smoothly, and yet it feels so empty, as if half the crew is missing."
Chief walked over to the mako to join the Quarian. He didn't lean against the vehicle, but he still stood close enough to her keep her talking. "Don't get me wrong. This ship is amazing and your crew's been really great to me. Especially your chief engineer. I guess I just sort of feel...out of place."
"What were the ships in the migrant fleet like?" Chief asked.
"Crowded." Tali said. "I couldn't wait to go on my pilgrimage. To get away from those crowds. But now that I'm out here, I kind of miss them."
"You're homesick." Chief said matter-of-factly. "Pretty common for rookies like you. You'll get used to it."
Tali sighed and nodded. "You know, there's always a few who go on their pilgrimages and never return. I always assumed something bad happened to them. But maybe they just wanted a different life."
"You thinking about a different life?" the Spartan asked.
The Quarian shook her head. "I could never abandon my people, Chief. I will go back eventually. But we have to stop Saren first. Otherwise, I might not have a home to go back to."
The next minute or so was spent in silence. Chief kept standing there while Tali kept leaning against the mako, no doubt lost in her thoughts. It was then that Chief thought of something. "So..." the Spartan said, breaking the silence. "What is the pilgrimage, exactly?"
Tali turned her head towards him. "You don't know?" she asked, genuinely confused.
"Well, you never really explained it to me." Chief replied.
"Well...let's see" Tali began as she thought about how to explain. "Well, when my people reach maturity, we leave our birth ships and seek acceptance with a new crew. It's necessary to maintain genetic diversity among the fleet. But no ship wants to accept someone who will be a burden on them. So, to prove our worth, we embark on a pilgrimage."
She pushed herself off the mako and began to pace around, seemingly pacing for its own sake. "We set out alone, leaving the flotilla and our families behind us. We only return once we have found something of value we can bring back to the fleet. This is presented as a gift to the captain of the respective ship we wish to join. If the gift is accepted, we are welcomed into the crew."
Quite a mouthful. Tali wasn't just feisty, she was chatty too. "And if it's not accepted?" Chief asked.
"That doesn't happen often." Tali said as she shook her head. She stopped pacing and now faced Chief visor to visor. "Most captains are eager to increase the size of their crew. It increases their own standing in our society. Even when a gift is not particularly valuable, the captain usually accepts it out of a sense of tradition." She paused. "However...there is a stigma to presenting a sub-standard gift." she slowly added. She said it in a slow, sardonic sort of way. Like 'stigma' was putting it lightly. "It's not the best way to make a good impression on a new community, so most pilgrims don't return until they find something truly worthwhile."
"So, basically the pilgrimage is when a young Quarian gets kicked off their ship, go look for something valuable and then bring it to a new ship?" Chief asked to clarify.
"Yes, but they don't just 'kick us off our ships,' as you so eloquently put it." Tali replied. "Before we leave, we are given gifts to help us and given lessons in how to survive outside the flotilla." She crossed her arms in a haughty sort of pose. "Like shooting a brute in the face, for instance."
Cortana was right. Tali really wasn't going to let the Chief live that one down.
"We also receive implants to fight off sickness and disease. Generations of living in an isolated and highly controlled environment have left our immune systems weaker than most." Tali went on.
"Your immune systems?" Chief asked.
"Er...yes." Tali replied. "It's why we where these environment suits."
"I thought it was because you Quarians didn't breathe oxygen. Like Unggoy and Volus." Chief said.
Tali shook her head. "No. We Quarians breathe oxygen just like you do. It just has to go through an environment suit's air filters first. Anyway, my point is we are well prepared by the time we leave the fleet. The pilgrimage is a rite of passage for all Quarians. If it were dangerous, our numbers would suffer."
"You sure the pilgrimage isn't dangerous?" Chief asked. "Because it did lead you to me of all people."
"Well, most pilgrimages aren't dangerous." Tali corrected. "That reminds me of a funny story. A few years back, a pilgrim arrived on my ship, the Rayya, seeking to be inducted into my community. Kal was his name I think. Anyway, you won't believe what he presented to my captain as a gift."
Chief shrugged.
"A brute gravity hammer." she said.
Gravity hammers. Ceremonial melee weapons wielded by brute chieftains not just as deadly weapons but as symbols of power and authority. As if having a heavy head and a backwards blade wasn't enough, it also had a field generator that could manipulate the gravity around it, hence the name. It could push objects away or pull them towards the wielder, but more often then not, the field generator is used to make the hammer's blows much more devastating. Chief asked the first question that came to mind.
"How did he get one of those?" Chief asked.
"I asked him the same thing." Tali said. "He just shrugged and said 'Wasn't easy.' Though the broken ribs and the slash marks on his suit definitely gave me a pretty good idea of how he obtained it. Don't worry, he was treated for his injuries. He turned out fine. Needless to say, the captain was impressed with the gift. The field generator in the hammer proved interesting to study and if nothing else, it proved Kal was very brave. Heard he's a marine now."
"Why am I not surprised." Chief said. Indeed. A marine really is the only career suitable for a man that crazy. "Anyway, back to your sleep problem. You should download a noise machine program on your omni-tool. Maybe the sound of bad engines blaring in your ears can soothe you to sleep."
Tali snorted in laughter at Chief's comment. "But until then, let's head up to deck two and get some coffee in you." Chief added after Tali's laughter subsided a bit.
"I can't drink coffee." Tali said with a shake of her head, still giggling. "Quarians are dextro-amino. You know, like Turians."
"Then we'll get you the same stuff Garrus drinks. I don't think he'll mind sharing if I order him to." Chief said. Tali snorted out another laugh. "Oh come on, that one wasn't even a real joke." Chief pointed out, which only made Tali laugh more.
He decided to chalk this up to Tali's lack of sleep. Everything seems to be funnier when your brain's half asleep.
Chief and Tali ascended the elevator up to deck two. At the galley, Tali poured the dextro-equivalent of coffee, goren, into her suit's liquidation system. Chief was surprised that Tali's suit had a liquidation system much like his own suit did. It made him wonder what else Quarian suits and Spartan armor had in common.
"So what features does your suit have?" Chief idly asked.
"Huh? Oh." Tali said, a bit taken aback by Chief's question. "Well, I have combat seals to clamp off infected parts of my body in case I get a hole in my suit. It also has automatic antibiotic injectors when needed."
"Nice." Chief said. His new MJONIR came with an automatic medi-gel dispenser, but those came standard in all Alliance hard suits. Antibiotics though? Chief didn't know deploying those in the field was even possible. "Hard vacuum capability?"
"A little, but I wouldn't last long in space without a proper oxygen supply." Tali explained.
"Room for mods? Shields and things like that?"
"Yes. Quarian suits are designed to be customizable. It helps that they've got a lot of pockets." Tali explained. "By the way, while we're on the subject of suits...can I ask you something?"
"Sure." Chief said.
"Why do you wear your suit all the time?" Tali asked.
Chief thought it over for a second before answering. "Same reason you wear yours all the time, I guess." he replied. "It keeps me alive."
"On the battlefield, yes." Tali said. "But we're inside a ship. Nobody's shooting at us. So why are you still wearing it?"
Chief was silent. He never expected anyone except Cortana to really ask about it, so he was caught unawares by Tali's question. "I mean, I wear my suit all the time so that I don't die from germ exposure. You're a Human, so you don't have to worry about that sort of thing."
"...I guess I just feel more comfortable in this armor." Chief replied. He knew it wouldn't really make sense to someone who wasn't a partan, but it was the truth.
"You're more comfortable hiding your face?" the Quarian asked. Chief nodded. They stood in silence for a second.
"...I hate being in a suit, you know." Tali said. "I hate having to monitor it, maintain it. I hate that I can't taste food or smell a flower without the need of scrubbers or air filters. Even in the sterile environment of the migrant fleet, I still have to wear this suit, even in the presence of other Quarians. Two Quarians can still infect each other with something if they're both exposed and in the same room. I can't show my face to anyone, and I rarely get to see the faces of my own family."
She paused. "You can, Chief. You should appreciate that more."
"...Are you getting snippy with me again?" Chief asked.
"Just...giving you personal advice. Sir." Tali replied.
"I see." Chief said. "Any more personal advice you want to give me?"
"Yes." Tali replied with a nod. "I think you should socialize with the crew more. I mean, from what I hear, you spend virtually all of your time inside your quarters. Don't you ever get lonely?"
Chief did not nod or shrug or anything of the sort this time. He just stared at the Quarian. "When I asked if you had any more personal advice, I was asking rhetorically, Tali."
"Those are just my thoughts. Sir." Tali said.
"...Go ahead and download a noise machine program when you find the time, Tali." Chief ordered. "I'll need you well-rested when we get to Feros. Dismissed."
Tali tried to give Chief the proper Human salute. It needed work. Her hand was where her mouth was, or at least where Chief thought a Quarian's mouth was. She then turned and headed back to the elevator, either to shoot some more targets or start her shift early, Chief didn't know.
Overall, Tali seemed to be fitting in well on the Normandy, if the fact that the other engies have more or less accepted her as one of their own is any indication. She was homesick, but that's to be expected from a newcomer. She'll adjust in good helped that she was a social and, evidently, very talkative person. Chief wondered if all Quarians were like that. They probably were. It would make sense too. If the migrant fleet really was as crowded as Tali said it was, Quarians would have to be naturally social creatures just to keep themselves from going crazy.
Chief thought about the advice Tali just gave him. How he should appreciate the fact that he can take his helmet off whenever he feels like it. How he should talk to the crew more. She sounded a lot like Cortana at that moment. The AI had been bugging him about socializing with the crew more for days.
...Tali also sounded a bit like Sha'ira back on the Citadel.
Lower your guard. Let them bond with you. Let them ease your sadness. Then you will no longer feel alone.
Great. Now even the mysterious oracle women was bugging the Spartan into making friends.
...So why doesn't he?
It was a question Chief never really thought about before. He avoided social interaction with the rest of the crew for the most part. So far, the only real conversations Chief had with the crew was on the firing range, and that was really only because the other shipmates happened to be there whenever he felt like firing some shots off. Hell, even the poker game he played the other night happened only because he stumbled upon it when he looked to squeeze in some target practice before bed. If he felt like going to bed early, he wouldn't have played, not even if he had prior knowledge of the game.
Whenever Cortana asked him why he didn't socialize more, he'd simply tell her that he wasn't the socializing type and then he'd just leave it at that. And for the longest time, Chief did believe that. He wasn't the socializing type, ergo, he did not socialize. Simple as that. There was no real purpose behind it.
Just as there was no real purpose to being a shut-in, he realized.
He thought it over and realized that, even though he stumbled across those interactions more or less by accident, he chose to stay in them. He could've ignored Garrus, Wrex and N'tho as they swapped stories while shooting targets. He could've said no when Kaidan invited him to play poker with him, Ashley, Grenado and Negulesco. The fact that he took up these interactions when they were offered to him seemed to suggest that Chief had at least some desire to integrate himself into the crew rather than keep a professional detachment from them. But why? Why would Chief want to integrate himself into a crew that had so very little in common with him?
Deep beneath all this armor, beats a sad and lonely heart.
...Well, there was Chief's answer. He was the last Spartan in all the universe. Fred, Linda, Kelly, Sam, they were all gone. All of them. There wasn't even a new generation of Spartans that he could relate to. After the war, the UNSC was focused on rebuilding their civilization and so saw the continued production of super-soldiers as a waste of money. Also, the data pertaining to the SPARTAN-II augmentation procedures was destroyed in the Fall of Reach, so the Alliance couldn't really make a new wave of Spartans even if they wanted to.
Master Chief was a SPARTAN-II in the 27th century. A holdover from a long-dead era. He was the only one of his kind. No wonder he seemed to play along when others tried to interact with him. Tali was right. He does get lonely. Chief grunted, the epiphany leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
Was Chief really that desperate? Was he really so desperate for companionship that he'd accept invitations of friendship from non-Spartans? Non-Humans even? He supposed he shouldn't be ashamed to admit he was lonely. After all, Humans were social creatures at the end of the day, much like the Quarians funnily enough. Dr. Halsey would, if she were here, no doubt argue that craving companionship didn't make the Master Chief weak. It made him Human. Still, Chief didn't like the idea of relying on people on an emotional level. He didn't want to be dependent on anyone outside of a firefight.
It could be argued that Chief can easily carry on with his mission as is; only talking to his crewmates when it's convenient for him, and spending the rest of his time in his quarters. It would have no impact, positive or negative, on his combat effectiveness and it would not bring him any closer to the Conduit. It could also be argued that he could socialize with the crew more. Get to know them. Integrate. Enjoy their company. That too would have no impact, positive or negative, on his combat effectiveness. and it too would not bring him any closer to the Conduit.
You only feel alone because your own heart is so heavily guarded, like every other part of your body.
Chief did indeed feel alone. It was by no measure a pleasant feeling. He'd love to be rid of it. Since his personal interaction or lack thereof with the crew would have no significant impact on the mission either way, why not choose the option that would give him the added benefit of friendship? Of belonging?
Maybe because it's not possible, the logical part of Chief's brain argued. There were no other Spartans in the galaxy, let alone the ship. There was a reason Spartans only opened up to each other, after all. So what were the odds that he'd even be able to relate to anyone?
Then he remembered Sergeant-Major Avery Johnson. A man who was, back in the Human-Covenant War, one of the few non-Spartans Chief could've called a friend. He was tough, bold, brave, everything that made him an ideal Human. The galaxy was a bit less bright when Johnson died, or at least it seemed that way to Chief.
Johnson was no Spartan. But that didn't stop Chief from calling him friend.
So it was that Spartan-117, swallowing his pride, decided that maybe he should start talking with the crew more, if only to alleive his own loneliness. He doubted how successful he'd be, but he had nothing to lose from trying.
On a whim, he decided to start with the pilot.
...
The CIC was busy as usual. Chief briefly checked in with Pressly to monitor the ship's progress. The Normandy was still cruising her way through the Exodus Cluster. Nothing of note to report really. Chief sent his XO back to his duties and made his way to the cockpit. He walked past 'the trenches,' the areas in the bridge where computer specialists operated their computers, monitoring everything from long-range sensors to ship-wide communications.
Sitting at the very front of the cockpit in the pilot seat was Flight Lieutenant Jeffrey 'Joker' Moreau. There were two other helmsman seats on either side of him, but they were currently unoccupied. Not surprising. The Normandy was just cruising at the moment. No immediate need for two co-pilots. Joker looked over his shoulder and smirked.
"Well well well." Joker said as he saw the spartan approach. "Come to give me my medal huh? Took ya long enough. I prefer gold to silver, by the way."
Chief raised his eyebrow under his helmet. "Who said anything about a medal?"
"Well, I just figured you'd recommend me for one since I, uh, pulled your boots outta the fire back on Therum." Joker replied with mock modesty.
"Do you really wanna spend a couple of hours sitting on stage listening to politicians give speeches while cameras flash in your face?" Chief asked, several similar instances from the Human-Covenant War suddenly coming to mind. He always hated those cameras.
"Hehe, good point." Joker snickered, apparently finding the idea of cameras flashing you about as appealing as the Spartan did. "They'd probably make me shave too." he started stroking his beard affectionately. "I spent seven weeks working on this baby. No medal's worth that."
Chief suddenly realized that he had cracked a joke without even having to think about it. Perhaps integrating into this crew wouldn't be so hard after all?
"So, what brings you up here, tall dark and badass?" Joker asked.
The Spartan decided it best to simply be honest. "Guess I finally got tired of spending most of my time in my quarters." he said with a shrug. "Thought I'd get to know the crew a little bit better."
"Really?" Joker asked. "Huh. Didn't take you for the socializing type."
"Normally I'm not." Chief said. "But when you're the last of your kind, you suddenly stop being so picky about who to keep for company."
"...Wait...you saying you wouldn't hang out with me if there were other Spartans around here?" Joker asked in what sounded like an accusing tone. "Is THAT all I am to you? Just a plan B?"
Chief was suddenly regretting talking to Joker. He was about to apologize for offending him when Joker suddenly held up a hand, as if to stop him from getting his next sentence out. "Were there...female Spartans, Chief?" the pilot asked.
An odd question. "Well, yes." Chief replied. "There were Spartans 058, 087, 130..."
"Don't lie to me Chief." Joker interrupted. His lower lip began to quiver. "Were they...were they prettier than me?"
"...Yes. Yes they were."
Joker then covered his face with both his hands and began pretending to bawl and cry, doing his best impression of a high school girl who just got dumped. Chief smiled.
"So!" Joker said, immediately snapping out of his fake bawling. "What do you wanna know?"
Chief shrugged. "You're the helmsman. How does the Normandy handle?"
"Like the best ship in the fleet." Joker replied. He smirked. "If you've got a pilot who know to handle her." he haughtily added. "The balance isn't what you'd expect. Takes a while to get used to that oversized drive core we got stuffed in the back and her power can sneak up on you if you're not careful."
He casually leaned back in his chair and put both his hands behind his head in a lounging position. "The Normandy's probably too much ship for your average Alliance pilot, Chief. Lucky for you, I'm anything but average."
"That a fact?" Chief asked with crossed arms. "What are your flying credentials?"
Joker then stood up rather abruptly. "Credentials?" he asked as he turned his head back towards the SPARTAN-II, his voice suddenly taking on a suspicious tone.
"Yeah. You know. So I know you're as good as you're bragging." the Spartan clarified.
"...Oh, I can see where this is goin'." Joker began. "First you open up with some friendly conversation and then you get down to the nitty gritty details, huh? You did a background check on me, didn't you? Well, I'll tell you the same thing I told the captain. You want me as your pilot. I'm not good. I'm not even great. I'm the best damn helmsman in the Alliance fleet! Top of my class in flight school? I EARNED that. All those commendations in my file? I EARNED every single one! Those weren't given to me as charity for my disease!"
The spartan was suddenly questioning if coming up here was really a good idea.
"You have a disease?" Chief asked.
Joker seemed surprised for a moment. "You mean...you mean you didn't know?" Chief shook his head. He turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Crap." he muttered.
"Okay." Joker began as he turned back to the Spartan. "I've got Vrolik's Syndrome, aka, brittle bone disease. The bones in my legs never developed properly. They're basically hollow. Too much force and they'll shatter. Even with crutches and my leg braces it's hard to get around. One wrong step and CRACK! It's very dramatic. But I've learned to manage my condition, Chief."
He pointed a finger at the Spartan. "Put the Normandy in my hands and I'll make her dance for you." he promised. He averted his eyes for a moment as a thought occurred to him. "Just don't ask me to get up and dance." he added as he regained eye contact. "Unless, you know, you like the sound of snapping shin bones."
Chief crossed his arms. "I need to know about your condition if you're going to pilot this ship." Chief sternly said. What little friendliness Chief had going in his system was now gone. He needed to confirm that Joker could do his job, which meant he needed to be more professional about this.
Joker grunted. "Of course you do." he grumbled. "It's an extremely rare condition. Nobody knows exactly what causes it. Genetic maybe. It's treatable, but there's no cure. They classify my case as moderate to severe. I was born with over a dozen fractures. Hips, thighs, ankles, my bones were already breakin' in the womb. A hundred years ago, I wouldn't have survived past my first year. Lucky for me, modern medical science has turned me into a 'productive member of society.'" The pilot snorted in disdain at that last part.
"Does this disease hamper your job at all?" Chief asked.
"Uh, I don't fly with my feet Chief." Joker said, gesturing to his control console. Indeed, it was all at hand level and none of it was by his feet. "So I'm fine as long as I'm in this chair. I gotta be real careful when I get up to take a piss though."
He leered at the SPARTAN-II. "I can do my job as well as anyone else on this ship. Better, actually. So don't worry about it."
"Master Chief." Negulesco suddenly said. "I'm getting a transmission from Admiral Hackett."
"Admiral Hackett?" Chief said, straightening up on reflex at the mention of an admiral's name. "What does he want?"
"Um...to talk to you?" Negulesco answered rather unhelpfully. "Something about a PR fiasco?"
"I'll take it in the comm room." Chief said as he began walking over to the room in question. Probably better he take the call now. It was a good excuse for the Spartan to get away from Joker after their conversation turned bad. Still, what did Hackett mean by 'PR fiasco?'
...
"Humans have been trying to get the respect of the galactic community for years. WIth that in mind, what are your feelings on being the first Human spectre?"
"No comment."
"Do you believe the claims of some Human interest groups that making you a spectre was just the council 'throwing Humanity a bone?'"
"No comment."
"Have you encountered any situations where the Citadel asked you to place its needs before the needs of Earth?"
"No comment."
"Do you think it was appropriate to hand Earth's most advanced warship over to the Council?"
"No comment."
"Is it true you're tracking a rogue Spectre?"
"No comment."
"Is it true you're just a shill for the Council?"
"No. Comment."
Oh. That's what Hackett meant.
"The Master Chief." Khalisah said as the video of the non-interview ended and the screen switched back to her sitting behind a desk. "We all hailed him as the savior of Humanity, but who is he really? Is he truly the hero everyone thinks he is? Or is this just an image? An ideal? And the real man is, in truth, just a cold, distant, bitter old soldier with no love for the common man? Only time will answer these questions for certain. Back to you, Hudson."
Chief clenched his fists and his jaw in anger. No love for the common man? Chief dedicated his entire life, literally, to fighting for Earth and all her colonies. Every mission he went on, he gave his all. Same went for his friends, many of whom died in defense of Humanity. And after all that, this is how the SPARTAN-II gets treated?
"For what it's worth, I don't blame you for walkin' out on her." Hackett's voice crackled through the transmission. "Westurland News is infamous for misrepresenting facts to fit their agendas. Still, brass isn't happy with how the interview went."
"I don't do interviews, sir." Chief said as a matter of fact.
"You're gonna have to if you're going to be representing Humanity." Hackett pointed out. "You're a celebrity now, Master Chief. You need to learn to handle the media better. Six billion people across Alliance space watched that story and at least half of them think you're a jerk now. You can't afford to make another PR mistake like this again. Understood?"
"Understood, sir." Chief said.
"Good." Hackett replied. "In addition to a report to the Council, I want you to forward a Feros after-action report directly to Alliance brass. We'll then release the non-classified details to the media. Hopefully saving a colony from a Geth attack will help you save some face. Hackett out."
Hackett cut off his transmission. Chief grumbled a bit. As if finding another clue to the Conduit and saving Human lives weren't good enough reasons, repairing his public image is now another good reason to get ready for Feros.
Chief missed being classified information. Being known may improve troop morale, but it leaves you vulnerable to tabloids.
...
Chief decided to check in with Chakwas and Liara in the medical bay. Maybe a conversation with them will go smoother than a conversation with Joker. Chief needed to check on Liara's medical training anyway. Hopefully, Chakwas made some headway with her.
Chief entered the medical bay and saw Chakwas working at her PC. Liara, however, was nowhere to be seen. "Master Chief?" Chakwas asked as she noticed the Spartan's presence. "Is there something you need?"
"Where's Liara?" Chief asked.
"In the back room." Chakwas said as she pointed to a door at the end of the med bay. "I haven't started today's lessons yet, if that's what you're here to ask. However, I did start her training last night, and she's been showing good enough progress."
The doctor gestured to what looked like a human body on one of the medical beds. Upon closer inspection, Chief recognized the body as a dummy; ballistic gel skin, organs filled with fake blood, synthetic bones, pretty typical dummy for medics-in-training to practice on. In the torso, readily visible through the transparent ballistics gel, is dried up bio-foam.
"Good to see she knows how bio-foam works." Chief said. "Mind if I talk to her? There's a few things I need to ask her about."
"Of course, Master Chief. She's just in there." Chakwas said as she gestured to the back door. Chief nodded and headed through. In the room, he saw Liara watching something on the PC.
...
"Okay." Bipbap whispered as he and Mozarn arrived back at Bipbap's house. The lights were out and it was pitch black. "You can sleep in my basement for tonight. Nelaya's asleep, so just keep it down and you should be alright."
"Appreciatively. Thanks for letting me stay over tonight, Bipbap." Mozarn whispered in reply. "Distressed. If my wife found out I forgot her anniversary again, she'd flay me alive with her mind. I'm going to have to spend all day tomorrow looking for a gift."
"Don't worry, buddy! I got your back!" the Unggoy replied. "If Milara asks, I'll just tell her you worked overnight at the-"
The lights suddenly turned on.
"Quarry." Bipbap finished.
Standing right by the light fixture was a sky-blue Asari wearing a long night gown. She had a disapproving, yet not at all surprised, look on her face.
"...You heard every last word between Mozarn and I, didn't you?" Bipbap asked. The Asari nodded.
"Well then." Bipbap said.
The Unggoy paused.
"Mozarn! Escape Plan Golf!" Bipbap yelped as he climbed up Mozarn's arm and onto his back.
"Surging with Adrenaline. Executing Escape Plan Golf." The Elcor crisply replied as he, very slowly, made his way to the same door from which he and Bipbap entered the house from moments ago. Rolling her eyes, the Asari activated her omni-tool and used it to close the door. The light on the door went from green to red, signifying it was locked.
"Panicked. She's locked the door." Mozarn stated.
Bipbap slowly turned his head toward the Asari, who just kept on giving that disapproving deadpan stare, with a raised eyebrow added in for good measure. The Unggoy just started wringing his hands while giving his 'please don't throw me out' chuckle. The Asari covered her face with her palm.
"My Life with Bipbap will return after these messages from our sponsors." the narrator stated.
...
"Master Chief." Liara said as she noticed the Spartan entering the room. She stood up from her seat and faced him as the door behind him automatically closed. "Are you coming to check up on me?"
"Yeah." the Spartan replied. "Saw your handiwork out there with the dummy. Good to see you know how a biofoam dispenser works."
"Thank you." Liara said. "It took me a few tries to get it right though. I imagine I'll need to practice more today and tomorrow."
"Good to hear you're making progress." Chief said. He turned to the computer. "What were you watching?"
"Oh?" Liara said as she too looked to the computer. "Oh, just My Life with Bipbap. It's a popular new situational comedy program on Thessia. It's about an Asari matron named Nelaya and the rather humorous misadventures of her Unggoy bondmate, Bipbap."
"Bondmate?" Chief asked.
"Er, yes. Bondmate." Liara replied. "What you Humans would call a husband, I suppose."
"...She married a grunt?" Chief asked. "Why?"
"Well, she's Asari."
"And?"
"...You...are not familiar with Asari mating rituals?" Liara asked.
"...Noooo..." Chief answered slowly and cautiously. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like where this particular conversation was going to head.
"Oh. Well...I suppose I should explain then." Liara said as she started wringing her hands nervously. "There have been many inaccuracies among other races regarding this subject. To start with, my species is mono-gendered. 'Male' and 'female' have no real meaning for us. We still require a partner to reproduce. This second parent however, may be of any species and any gender."
Chief widened his eyes a bit underneath his helmet. Asari can mate with anyone? Anyone? Just when he thought he was finally starting to figure out all these aliens, they throw him another curve ball. And this was easily the biggest one yet. "Asari can mate with anyone? How does that work?" the Spartan asked.
"Mating is not quite the proper term." Liara said as she held up a hand in a correcting gesture. She paused in thought for a second. "Well, not as you understand it, anyway." she added. "Physical contact may or may not be involved, but it is not an essential element of the union. The true connection is mental. Our physiology allow us to meld with other beings. We can touch the very depths of their minds. We explore the genetic memory of their species. We share the most basic elements of their individual and racial identities. We then pass these traits on to our daughters. It's how we learn to grow as a species and how we develop a greater understanding of other races."
Chief paused in thought. This was one of those things that took a while to fully process. "So...Asari inherit traits from the father race?" the spartan pressed. "Like say, an Asari with a...Sangheili father would be stronger and faster than other Asari? Or one with a Kig-Yar father would have keener senses?"
"Well...in a way, yes." Liara replied. "An Asari will provide her offspring with two copies of her own genes. The first set is her own, while the second set is altered during the melding process. The 'father' species determines how this second set is altered. The offspring is always an Asari. We do not actually take any DNA from the father, but rather use their DNA as a...'map' of sorts to help randomize the genes, and thus inheriting those traits."
Huh. So that's how that works.
"So, what happens to the partner after the union?" Chief asked.
"Every relationship is different." Liara continued. "Some unions are a single encounter with both parents parting ways afterwards. Others can be more long term. Sometimes an Asari and her partner will stay together for many decades."
"Wait. Don't you Asari live for a thousand years?" Chief asked. "What happens when your partner dies before you do?"
"Few sapient species live as long as my kind." the scientist acknowledged with a nod. "We have learned to take a philosophical approach to our unions. We do not focus on the inevitable loss of our partners. Instead, we enjoy the time we spent with them. And even after they are gone, a part of them lives on in us. The union is a connection that transcends both time and space."
So basically, the Asari philosophy to relationship is to not worry about the future. Just enjoy the here and now. Enjoy what you've got while you've still got it. Chief could respect that kind of thinking.
"Interesting." the Spartan said. "So who was your father?"
Liara's eyes suddenly turned away from Chief's visor, darting about the floor instead. "Benezia rarely spoke of her partner." she quietly answered. "Though I know my father - if you want to use that term - was another Asari."
"Wait, I thought you needed another species to reproduce." Chief interjected.
"Think about it, Chief. If we were not able to mate with our own species, we would have died out long before we ever mastered space flight and left our homeworld." Liara pointed out.
Chief was suddenly a little embarrassed that he asked that question at all. In hindsight, Liara's point was obvious. The Spartan decided to chalk up the ignorant question to inexperience with aliens and leave it at that.
"Although..." Liara resumed. "Union with our own kind is no longer common. Not for the purposes of reproduction. Most Asari believe it weakens our species. As I explained earlier, Asari daughters inherit racial traits from the father species, expanding our genetic diversity. If both parents are Asari, then nothing has been gained. Or so conventional wisdom would hold."
She paused, her face turning downcast again. "I am what is sometimes called a...'pureblood.' Though no Asari would ever be cruel enough to say it to my face. It is a great insult among my people. It is possible that Benezia's partner was embarrassed by their union. She may have been too ashamed to publicly acknowledge me as her offspring."
"...Sorry about that." Chief said. He couldn't think of anything else to say in response to what essentially was 'my father abandoned me.'
"It is possible that Benezia's partner wanted to be part of my life, but something happened to her before she had the chance. At least, that's what I would like to think sometimes." Liara went on. "My mother never spoke of her partner. Whatever happened, it caused her too much pain to dwell on it. She raised me by herself, though that is not uncommon. Many Asari raise their children alone, particularly if the father species is short-lived, you see. Often, the partner will pass on long before the child reaches maturity."
An awkward silence fell on the room for a few seconds.
"...Well." Chief said, unsure of how to proceed. "Good to see you're making progress, so I'll just leave you to resume your off-time and your further practice later on."
"Wait Master Chief." Liara said as she held out a hand in a grasping motion. Catching herself, she withdrew her hand back and briefly looked away before continuing. "I never properly thanked you for rescuing me from the Geth back on Therum. If you hadn't shown up..."
"I was just doing my job." Chief interrupted.
Liara nodded. "I know you took a chance bringing me onboard this ship. I have seen the way your crew looks at me. They do not trust me. But I am not like Benezia. I will do whatever I can do to help you stop Saren. I promise."
"Good to hear." Chief replied. "For what it's worth, I trust you enough to not sell us out to Saren."
Liara smiled warmly at that sentiment. "It means a lot to hear you say that, Chief. Thank you."
...
The Master Chief decided to take a break from socializing after that last awkward conversation with Liara. Integrating with the crew didn't seem to be working out as well as he'd hoped. After eating lunch and spending a few hours going over possible battle strategies for Feros, Chief decided to head down to deck three for target practice. He found it easy to strike up a conversation or two down there in the past. And if it turns out he'd be the only one down there, it might be for the better anyway.
Chief stepped out of the elevator onto deck three. He saw N'tho lying on a large stack of crates, next to the weapons bench, playing with his omni-tool as he often does when he's off-duty. Ashley was standing in front of a computer at the weapons bench. Both seemed oblivious to the spartan's presence, each one too engrossed in their own activities. Chief walked over to the weapons bench to get an assault rifle.
"Oh, before I go..." a voice from the computer said. Apparently, Ashley was in a video-conversation with someone else. "We saw Master Chief on the news here. Ten to one says he's a real cutie underneath that helmet. Later, sis."
The face that was on the computer screen disappeared after that last sentence. Slowly, Ashley turned to the Chief, looking mortified. "...Please tell me you didn't hear that." she begged.
"Alright. I didn't." Chief replied.
Ashley's cheeks began burning a bright shade of red. N'tho snickered a bit from atop his perch as Ashley shut her eyes tight and clenched her fists. "One word out of you N'tho, and I will rip your intestines out through your anus." N'tho promptly stopped snickering after that.
"Family?" Chief asked.
"Until I get home and kill her." Ashley muttered in reply. "One of my sisters, sir. Sarah, the youngest."
"One? You have others?" Chief asked.
"Er...Yeah. I'm the oldest. Then Abby, then Lynn, then finally Sarah. She's still in high school."
"Brothers?" Chief pressed.
"No sir. Just us girls." Ashley replied as she shook her head. She chuckled nervously. "You know, it's funny. With four daughters and a wife, Dad used to say he felt more outnumbered at home than on maneuvers."
Chief remembered when Ashley could barely speak in front of the Master Chief without constantly saluting and calling him 'sir.' She still seemed a little nervous around him, but for the most part, it seemed like she was slowly getting used to being around the Spartan enough for her to ease up a little.
"I take it your family is important to you?"
"Yes sir. We've always been close. Me and my sisters especially. With Dad on duty so much, I had to help Mom raise them." Ashley explained.
"Your father served with the fleet?"
"Yes sir...took any crap posting he could get that offered space time." Ashley's face suddenly scrunched up, like she just got a bad taste in her mouth. "Worked his ass off trying to get recognized. But he never made it above Serviceman Third Class." she grumbled. "He was real proud when I made Gunnery Chief. First thing he did was salute."
"And your mother?"
"You know how military wives are." she went on. "Strong because they have to be. Able to raise kids while Dad's away on a six-month cruise. She has a degree in planetary geology. Wanted to see new worlds as much as Dad did. She gave that up to raise us at home though."
"And where is home for you?" Chief asked. "Earth? Eden Prime?"
"And then some. We lived all over, sir." Ashley answered. "We transferred a half-dozen times before I finished grade school. You go wherever Personnel Command sends you, right?" she shrugged. "I guess that's why I'm so tight with my sisters. We'd have to leave all our friends every two or three years."
Bond with those closest to you, because you can't really depend on anyone else sticking around. The Master Chief could relate to that. It's why fellow Spartans were the only ones Chief had any ease bonding with. Those were the only people he could depend on to still be there. In a way, the other Spartans were like his siblings. One big happy family.
"So...did you grow up mostly on planetary colonies or habitation space stations?" Chief asked, hoping to keep the conversation moving.
"Colonies, sir." Ashley promptly answered. "Dad always wanted to serve in space, but he wanted us to have real ground under our feet. He'd say 'Space is beautiful, but you can't raise a family there.'"
Then she started doing something Chief didn't expect. She started reciting poetry.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees. All times I have enjoy'd
Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments
"Wait...was that Ulysses?"
Chief and Ashley looked up at the stack of crates. N'tho, who had been uncharacteristically silent up until now, was now in an upright sitting position and looking at Ashley. He smiled. "Always was in my top five favorite Human poems."
Ashley perked an eyebrow. "You read Tennyson?" she asked.
"Um...Squidhead, remember?" N'tho said as he jerked a thumb at himself. "Sangheili with a love of Human culture? Any of this ringing a bell?"
"Didn't take you as the type to read poetry." Chief said.
"Are you kidding me?" N'tho replied. "A love of Human poetry is practically a requirement to call yourself a proper Squidhead."
"Alright. Prove it." Ashley dared as she crossed her arms.
N'tho leapt off the stack and rolled his neck and his shoulders, as if warming up for an intense exercise. He spun on his heels towards the two Humans in front of him. He puffed out his chest and tucked his hands behind the small of his back, looking very proper. Then, he spoke.
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call:
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.
"Shakespeare." Ashley noted right after N'tho finished. "Nice."
"Midsummer Night's Dream is easily in my top twenty comedies." N'tho added. He snickered a bit. "I swear, I crack up every time at that one bit where the dude's head turns into a donkey's." N'tho turned to Ashley. "Your dad like Shakespeare too?"
"Sure he did. Who doesn't?" Ashley replied. "But Ulysses was his real favorite. Every time he shipped out, he recorded me reading it. He had a dozen versions when he retired."
"He still like it?" N'tho asked.
"...I sure hope so." Ashley replied with a smirk. "I read it to his grave every time I go home."
"...Oh." N'tho replied, suddenly very awkward. Chief suspected that Ashley was taking a near-sadistic delight in making N'tho feel like a jerk.
"Dad passed on a few years ago. He's probably still watching, though. So if you're one of those weird Squidheads that are sexually attracted to Human women...think twice before looking at me in a certain way."
"Or the spirit of your father will smite me from beyond the grave. Gotcha." N'tho replied. "And don't worry, I don't love Human culture that much. I mean sure, your hips, legs and butt are pretty easy on the eyes but those...'things' on your chest? THAT'S what ruins Human women for me."
"What? Boobs?" Ashley asked. "I'll have you know that in Human culture, boobs are considered to be very sexy by our men."
"They're fat lumps of squishy blubber that dangle off your chest and excrete bodily fluids." N'tho deadpanned. "I fail to see the attraction."
"...To be fair, they are kinda gross when he puts it like that." Chief threw in his own two cents.
Ashley rolled her eyes. "Men." she remarked.
Chief smiled a little under his helmet. He then remembered something Ashley said earlier. "Wait. You said your Dad was still watching?"
"From heaven. He's with God now." Ashley quickly elaborated. She suddenly cringed a bit, catching herself. She slowly turned to the Master Chief. "That's not a problem with you, is it? That I believe in God?"
The Spartan shrugged. "Alliance protocol doesn't condemn or endorse the belief of any one particular form of faith. Believe whatever you wanna believe."
"And you won't get judged by me." N'tho joined in. "I'm a Sangheili. Believing in a higher power is kinda my race's thing."
"Glad you two are open-minded about it." Ashley said. "I've met a few people who were really weirded out by my faith. Because I work in space, I can't believe in a higher power? Hello, have you looked out a window lately? How can you look at this galaxy and not believe in...something?"
Chief turned to N'tho. "What about you?"
"Me?" N'tho said.
"Yeah. You got family?" the Spartan asked.
"Well...uh...let's see." N'tho paused and thought. "I'm part of the 'Sraom bloodline, in case the last name didn't give it away. I got six brothers and one sister. All in the Empire military."
"Wow." Ashley said. "Your family makes mine look manageable."
N'tho shrugged. "Pretty average for a Sangheili, actually. We have longer lifespans than most species. More time to live means more time to procreate, I guess. First there was N'umo. Then Oron and then Morkiss. M'knorn, M'thro, me and then finally the twins, Saff'ron and Saff'ira. Saff'ira's the only girl."
"Tell us about them." Chief said.
"N'umo's the oldest. He's a field master, but if he keeps doing well, he'll get promoted to field marshall in a few years. Oron's a zealot, making him the only swordsman, while the rest of us use just use energy daggers for close quarters fighting. His biological father was Falor 'Napoo, another swordsman."
"Wait, biological father?" Ashley asked. "You mean he was adopted?"
"No. Falor mated with my mother and Oron was born ten months after that."
Ashley widened her eyes. "Your mother cheated on your father with...that's disgusting!"
"What?" N'tho asked, confused. "Oh wait. Right. Humans don't do...okay, explanation time. In Sangheili culture, swordsman like Falor aren't allowed to marry, but can mate with any female he pleases, whether they're married or not."
Ashley shook her head at that. "That's just sexist. Don't they ask for the women's opinions?"
"Sure they do. And women line up around the block to mate with a swordsman." N'tho replied.
That answer took Ashley aback. "Wait...really?"
"Yeah. Our culture encourages swordsman to mate with as many females as possible. You know. Really spread around those swordsman genes. Heck, Oron himself has lost track of all the females he's mated with."
"And...the husbands?" Ashley asked.
"They consider it a great honor to have their wife mate with a swordsman. It means they get a chance to raise a swordsman themselves."
"Well...that's...weird." Ashley said.
"Yeah well, we also think it's kinda weird you Humans insist on not allowing your mates to mate with anyone but yourselves once you get married. Watch the ethnocentrism there Ash." N'tho remarked. "As for Oron, he may not have our own father's blood flowing in him the way the rest of us do, but we don't think that makes him any less our brother. And Oron doesn't think our dad is any less his father. We Sangheili believe our true parents are the ones who raise us. As far as Oron is concerned, while Falor is a respectable warrior, he's really just some guy who banged our mom once."
"Anyway." N'tho resumed. "Third born was Morkiss 'Sraom. He's infantry to the core. Tough as nails. Says a sword is all well and good but you can't blow up tanks with it. He prefers concussion rifles and fuel rod guns."
"Sounds like my kind of guy." Ashley said.
"He's a general now. Has hundreds at his command, but he still does his best to keep a personal touch with his men."
"General?" Chief asked. "That's a pretty high rank in the Sangheili military. How old is he?"
"Seventy." N'tho replied. "He's pretty young for a general. All the other generals like to call him 'young one.' Really gets under his skin. But he's got the kill count to back up his rank, so I'd follow him into battle any day. He knows what he's doing. Oron's eighty-seven and N'umo just hit the big one double-zero last year, in case you were wondering about their ages too."
"M'knorn is a ranger. He's about forty-nine. He's a squidhead like me, so we're pretty tight with each other. Crazy too. Then again, all the rangers are crazy. Guess you kinda have to be to wanna fight in a hard vacuum. M'thro's an Ultra, forty. He's a squidhead too. Likes to recite that speech from Henry VIII before an operation to get his men's blood pumping."
N'tho smiled. "And then there's me. N'tho 'Sraom, thirty-five, Special Operations."
"Charmed." Chief remarked.
"Finally there's Saff'ron and Saff'ira, the twins and the babies of the bunch. They're both ten years younger than I am. Both still minors...well, used to be." the Sangheili smiled. "Saff'ira got promoted to major before Saff'ron did. Really got on Saff'ron's nerves too. Now he is the one taking orders from her. As if the fact that she hatched a day before he did wasn't bad enough."
Ashley seemed to smile at that. "Nice to hear that Sangheili women aren't just there for mating with in your society."
"I didn't see any female Sangheili in your military during the Human-Covenant war." Chief pointed out.
"That's because they weren't allowed in the military back then." N'tho explained. "Back in those days, the duty of the Sangheili man was to fight for honor and to make the will of the Gods into reality. The duty of the Sangheili woman was to-"
"Stay in the kitchen?" Ashley asked with a raised eyebrow.
"More or less." N'tho said. "Course, that all changed with the huge amount of cultural exchange that took place between Humans and Sangheili after the war ended. One Human concept that really caught on with female Sangheili was feminism. The idea that women could, theoretically at least, do anything a man could."
"Theoretically my ass." Ashley muttered.
"A lot of females ate it up. They pointed to one of our oldest stories, of a female Sangheili who became a zealot by disguising herself as a male and ended up saving her whole state from an army of bloodthirsty heretics. They also pointed to how female Human warriors were well-documented during the Human-Covenant war. Even some Spartans, the most powerful Human warriors of all, were women. If the Humans could do it, why not the Sangheili?"
"I take it they faced opposition?" Chief asked.
"Oh yeah." N'tho replied with a nod. "Sangheili feminists struggled as hard as Human feminists did in their day. Arguably even more, since we Sangheili like to hold on to our traditions longer than most races. But, over time, the feminists won victory after victory until they finally won the right to serve in the front-line military about fifty years ago."
"And since then?" Ashley asked.
"V'rika Sumon." N'tho said. "Currently a general, and well-decorated one at that. Easily the highest-ranking female Sangheili alive today. Got that rank after a successful raid on a Jiralhenae base on the Terminus border. Nipped a possible planetary attack right in the bud."
"Nice." Ashley said. Being a female soldier herself, she approved.
"Zealots are the only branch of the Empire military left with a very blatant 'no chicks allowed' sign on it. But that too might change in another few decades. Man or woman, anyone can be a zealot so long as they have the proper swordsman genes. That's my opinion anyway." N'tho added.
"You talked a lot about your siblings. What about your parents?" Ashley asked.
"My old man's a shipmaster. He's in charge of a CCS-class battlecruiser, Blessed Triumph, in the Fleet of Righteous Destiny." N'tho said.
"And your mother?" Ashley asked.
"Still on Sangheilios. She's not in the military. Females on the front lines happened long after her prime, so she just decided to keep being a stay-at-home mom." N'tho answered. "Although, she's pretty good with knives. Both with using them to chop up vegetables for dinner and with using them for stabbing out the eyes of a Batarian, one eye at a time."
"...Damn." Ashley said.
"Yeah, that one's kinda of a long story. I'll tell you about it some other time." N'tho said.
After that, Chief decided that that was enough socialization for the time being and began his target practice. Ashley and N'tho joined in simply because they were there already. Chief decided to try out the Tsunami MK III assault rifle. It was a little bit heavier than the Lancer series, which was just fine by the Chief as the Spartan was more used to heavier weapons anyway. N'tho tested out the new plasma minigun. As expected, it tore the holographic to shreds, much to the young Sangheili's cheering approval. Ashley tested out the focus rifle and found it viscerally satisfying.
"It's a frikkin' laser beam!" she exclaimed.
Once the Master Chief felt like he had enough shooting practice, he bid Ashley and N'tho good night and took the elevator back up to deck two.
...
The Master Chief spent the rest of the evening reviewing any and all information in the codex regarding Feros. Master Chief thought at first that starting a colony on Feros made sense, as the foundations for a decent colony had already been built by the Protheans. Further research, however, disproved that notion.
With two thirds of the planet's surface covered in deserted city, there was little open ground for agriculture. The only sources of fresh water were at the poles, accessible only via the planet's old aqueduct system. Even the ruins, supposedly the planet's biggest selling point as a viable colony, were arguably not stable enough for proper colonization. Regardless, even after years of being looted by various races, many believed that there were still vast, untapped sources of ancient Prothean knowledge still hidden somewhere in the ruins. ExoGeni started up a permanent colony there in 2678 to find such sources.
Urban warfare was going to be the name of the game this time around. Most of the fighting on Feros was going to be street by street, building by building, room by room. Close-quarters combat was going to be a must here and, wouldn't you know, Chief had already made N'tho the team's close-quarters combat specialist. Feros could be N'tho's chance to shine, and also to redeem himself for his foolishness on Trebin. Ashley and Wrex were likely to do well in this environment too, as both have shown more than a little capability with their shotguns. Garrus might be more useful at range than in room by room combat, but he can take sniper positions in the floor of any given building and snipe Geth troopers across the street, providing covering fire for the rest of the team.
Tali and Liara were going to be the two wild cards here. They've both proven themselves capable soldiers, but they're still just civilians. This was going to be their baptism by fire. This battle will be what determines the roles those two will play in future operations.
Master Chief's biggest anxiety regarding this next mission wasn't his team, however. It was his objective. Or rather, lack thereof. He had no idea what he was supposed to be looking for on Feros. All he knew was that the Geth wanted something. But for all he knew, the Geth might have already taken that something and now they're destroying the colony to destroy the evidence. Hell, for all he knew, the Geth have already done that and have already left. It's possible that all the Master Chief will find when he gets to Feros is a big crater.
He wouldn't know any of this for sure until the Normandy actually reaches Feros. This was why the Master Chief hated waiting for a fight. By the time the wait was over, the fight could be over too.
Before he turned in, Master Chief went over the day's events in his head, specifically how he tried to follow the advice of Cortana, Tali and the Asari Consort and try to interact with the crew more. And what did he accomplish? Well, he offended Joker and had an extremely awkward conversation with Liara. He had pretty decent conversations with Ashley and N'tho regarding their families, but that was really about it.
And the Master Chief still felt as alone now as he did when he woke up this morning.
You are surrounded by hearts much like your own. Hearts that are as willful, fierce, and wise as your own.
"Yeah right." Chief bitterly muttered to himself as he removed his armor. No one on this ship knew Chief, much less had a heart like him. Really, why was he even bothering? They don't know him, he doesn't know them, and he was fairly certain that he had almost nothing in common with these people.
Deep beneath all this armor, beats a sad and lonely heart.
Maybe that's just how a Spartan's heart is supposed to be. Chief thought to himself as he began drifting off to sleep.
Spartans were trained to fight. To identify and eliminate key targets. To hold significant positions. Pull off missions that were impossible for any other kind of soldier. They weren't trained to make friends.
Admittedly, the Master Chief was lonely. But in the absence of fellow Spartans, he'd just have to learn to live with that. It wasn't a huge loss. It's not like befriending the crew would've vastly improved his aim.
...
Codex Entry (Aliens - Non-Council Races): SANGHEILI: MILITARY DOCTRINE
Sangheili consider themselves to be the finest warriors in all the galaxy, and with good reason. Their unique ranking structure ensures that only the deadliest and most effective fighters ascend to positions of prominent leadership within the Empire military. It is the only military in Citadel Space that awards promotions based almost exclusively on kill counts. While other factors, such as leadership capability and tactical intellect, are also taken into account, the accumulation of confirmed kills remains the primary determining factor behind promotions.
Much like in the Turian Hierarchy, military service is mandatory for all citizens of the Sangheili Emprie, including Unggoy and Mgalekgolo. Sangheili are drafted into the military at the age of twenty at the rank of minor. As minors, they are issued a small squad of Unggoy so that superiors may accurately gauge the minor's leadership potential. Next rank after that is the major, who commands several minors and their Unggoy as well.
It takes roughly one hundred confirmed kills for a Sangheili to be promoted past major. Once this occurs, the Sangheili warrior will have multiple branches of service to choose from. Some stay in the infantry, the most skilled of these warriors going on to become ultras and generals. Others choose to join the navy, becoming rangers, servicemen, and banshee fighter pilots. Others still may choose to join the Special Operations branch of the military. Many states on Sangheilios offer counsel to warriors on the eve of such promotions to help them decide which field of battle they would be best suited for.
A recent major development within the Sangheili military is the induction of women into the armed forces. Sangheili have formerly had a very patriarchal society, believing that it was a man's duty to fight and serve the Empire, while it was the woman's duty to stay home and raise the children. However, after cultural exchange with Humans, this belief was challenged and, after almost a century of struggle, women were granted a place in warriors' circles. It has since been proved time and again that female Sangheili can be just as deadly as their male counterparts, the most famous example being the female General V'rika Sumon, who has become the face of Sangheili Feminism.
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One thing I really hope here is that I didn't portray the Master Chief as being too angsty. I've always felt that angst is like butter. A little bit can add some flavor to the character. Too much can make them hard to stomach. That said, I think the Master Chief's angst is somewhat justified here. He's the last of his kind, so it's natural for him to be feeling alone and withdrawn from everyone else. You see the same thing going on with Javik in Mass Effect 3; he keeps to himself a lot. He doesn't show much interest in making friends with anyone on the Normandy, despite the loneliness that must come with being the Last Prothean.
Speaking of Mass Effect 3, I've already picked it up and am working my way through it now. Yeah, I'm not one of those guys that bought Mass Effect 2 and blew through it in a week. I like to make my RPG's last, kinda like a season of my favorite TV series. Yes, that's right. I play through Mass Effect games the way I write Mass Effect fanfiction; at an agonizingly slow pace.
So, since I haven't reached the end yet, I would appreciate it if no one were to discuss the ending to ME3 in the reviews or PM's.
Speaking of the ending, let's talk about the ending. Well, not so much the ending itself, but rather the internet's reaction to it.
I've been doing my damnest to avoid spoilers for ME3's ending. And I've managed to successfully avoid them for the most part. However, while I may not know the ending, I do know that the majority (or at least a very vocal minority) of the game's fanbase found the ending...less than satisfying, to say the least.
This might be the naive fanboy in me talking, but I'm going to play through to the end of ME3's story to determine for myself if it's really as bad as anyone says. I'm hoping it's not, but at this point, I think I can safely rule out the ending I was hoping for. In which my Commander Shepard (a wise-cracking, head-shotting paragon infiltrator named Jack) defeats every last Reaper and then rides off into the sunset with his best girl Liara by his side.
And what if the ending IS as bad as everyone says? How would it affect this fic? Well, this IS a fanfiction, so it's non-canon to begin with. I guess I could tweak the ending a little if I truly find it that disgustingly bad. But since I'm hiding from any and all spoilers, I won't know for sure until I actually see the ending for myself.
Next chapter: Feros