1845 Hours, July 24, 2571 (Military Calendar) /
Planet Emerald Cove, Star System Alpha Imura
Waves crashed. Gulls cried. Somehow, after it all - the genocidal campaign of the Covenant, the battles over the ancient Halo installations, the outbreaks of the Flood, and the subjugation spurred on by the very Artificial Intelligences built to protect humanity - the colony of Emerald Cove had survived unscathed. It was exactly as John remembered it from when he was a child, some fifty years ago.
Looking around from his perch near the beach campfire, the Spartan couldn't help but recall the last time he'd visited this world. Chief Mendez sent the entire Spartan group for an underwater training mission. But he'd played dirty, and sent half of them with faulty air tanks. So they played dirty back - they stole the tanks reserved for the drill instructors sent alongside and performed a mutiny, which led to nearly a week of beachside relaxation.
There were seventy-five of them back then. Not a single Spartan had been lost to augmentations or combat. It was a perfect moment; his entire family, healthy and happy.
An incredibly brief moment of brilliant light surrounded by years of dark night.
The fire was big enough now. He poured some water into a tin and set it over the flame, watching carefully as the water heated to a boil. It was Will who taught them how to prepare clams all those years ago. Some random memory that survived the years of conditioning since they were six years old. Priya who knew how to weave nets to catch fish. Sam who figured out how to surf.
All of them were gone now. Of his family, only a handful still drew breath. The augmentations they received as children prolonged their lives, leaving him barely past his prime at the age of sixty. Most of his siblings died in their youths.
He studied the small waves rolling in toward the beach and thought of Sam. His first friend. His best friend. The first Spartan casualty to the Covenant. For decades John had tortured himself with the possibilities. What could have have done differently? How could he have saved Sam? But it was, in the end, fruitless. Sam was gone. So many of them were gone.
The only way to honor them was to live on. To make the galaxy a better place. To fulfill the mission they were charged with as children.
He sensed her long before she arrived. Heard her long, deliberate strides. Took in the perfumed shampoo that smelled like home. Felt her arms wrap warmly around his shoulders from behind, her lips pressed softly against his cheek.
John leaned into her embrace, letting her support him for a moment. She obliged. Strong arms held him tightly and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her red hair tangling over his shoulder and tickling his ear.
"You've got your thinking face on," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder.
"You can't even see my face," he responded with a grin.
He felt her smile. "No, but I can see by your whole posture that you're in pain," she fired back.
John sighed good-naturedly. He thought about continuing the banter, but was worried that if they carried it too far the moment would be lost to them. Instead, he decided to forego the sarcasm for honesty. "Just remembering the last time we were here," he confessed.
Linda was still. Her arms tightened around his shoulders. Her face pressed deeper into the side of his neck. "I miss them too," she said finally.
They stayed like that for several long moments. A moment of silence for their family. It was fitting that it be in such a beautiful place.
"Mom, Dad?" a small voice called out. "When will dinner be ready?"
It was their youngest. Barely four years old, Mark was busy playing in the sand nearby.
"In a few minutes," John answered, leaning forward to toss the clams into the now boiling water.
Linda stood up and walked to the small boy's side. "Why don't we go get your sister?" she asked, reaching out a hand. Mark took it and giggled as she hauled him to his feet. "Sammy!" Linda called out to the water, "Come back in!"
A ten-year-old girl paddled in on a surfboard. It was an official board, designed specifically for surfing. Far better than the planks of wood they'd used as kids. She wore a smile so wide it practically split her whole face in two as she dragged the board onto the sand and ran to meet her family.
Linda picked Mark up and plopped him on his older sister's shoulders. She immediately took off running while the small boy's arms lifted to emulate airplane wings. They both shared fits of giggles as they ran circles around their mother.
Linda laughed along with them before turning her gaze to John. She stood in stunning contrast to the world around her - as she always did. Her long red hair blew in the breeze, her emerald eyes shining.
Looking at them, John saw something else silhouetted against the evening sun. A young boy with sandy blonde hair and a goofy smile ran alongside his children. Others, dozens of them, appeared around him. Each wore a bright smile.
His whole family, all together.
John smiled. It was a perfect moment.