Chapter Text
“One last lesson. I’m trying to teach you something it’s taken me all my life to realize.”
- Doctor Catherine E. Halsey, 2552 Military Calendar
Aboard UNSC Infinity
Six hours before Emergency Response Deployment
January 15, 2558 Military Calendar, 21:32
Welcome Home, John…
Those words popped into his head as he watched Earth twist in the sunlight.
A NavLog logistics ship passed by. The hallway windows dims as her engines swooped across the outer hull.
The air of the Infinity is cold. The air stings his nose.
As the ship passed, Earth came back into view. The planet basks in sunlight. Orbital defense platforms, satellites, repair stations, docking yards and anchorages envelopes his home – what he was told is his home - in a protective sphere in perfect geosynchronous orbit.
Past the protective sphere is the remnants of the Home Fleet.
The remnants being what seems like hundreds of frigates and destroyers surrounding dozens of cruisers and capital ships. The Fleet has surpassed anything Humanity would’ve ever imagined possible in sheer numbers alone.
The Didact couldn’t strip away how far Humanity had come.
More NavLog ships push by. In the past few days, ships have entered from pinpoint slipspace, mostly NavLog ships and merchant marine vessels. Something is happening.
Over the years you can begin to sense when the mood changes. Little pick-ups in activity, then suddenly out of the blue one day you’re heading into war.
John wondered what the next war is….
“You see it too?” A familiar voice asks. Someone came up to him, keeping a distance. He’s just as tall as John, wearing the same MJOLNIR undersuit. He looks older now. His skin, like John’s, is pale. His eyes are sullen, and soft touches of grey protrude in his brown hair. Crinkles had formed around his eyes and mouth. There’s a new set of dark circles John hadn’t seen before. And there’s now a small gold bar on the collar of his undersuit.
“They're starting to pick up the pace,” John said.
“Starting to pick up the pace…?” He points to the gold bars on his collar, “...sir, perhaps?”
John raises an eyebrow.
“Kidding…” Fred said. “But yeah, you can feel it.”
“And things feel so different…” John trails off.
“Yeah…” Fred quietly says, “You’ve been reacclimating okay?”
“I think I’ve been reacclimated since I reboarded the Infinity.”
“You know, we haven’t talked more about…” Fred stops, carefully picking his words, “well, everything that happened...”
John didn’t say anything.
“I…” Fred steps closer. Heron Heavy Lift Pods flew by carrying what looked like MAC round munitions. “It doesn’t get any easier. It really doesn’t.”
Both of them look outside the glass in silence. They watch the ships - swarms of fish traveling through the electronic blue night, floating above the glowing surface of Earth. The Spartans’ intuition seemed to be correct. Slowly, more and more logistical ships jumped into system or pushed into atmosphere from the surface. Despite the bottlenecks John keeps on hearing about, the UNSC looked determined to push through.
“Did Kelly ask you to talk to me?” John asks.
“Linda, actually,” Fred said as he watched a Pelican maneuver cargo between orbital platforms. “But, you know, Kelly didn’t need to say anything.”
“Things really have changed. It’s usually the opposite.”
Fred couldn’t help but smile, “I still can’t tell you enough how good it is to have you back.”
“Likewise,” John said, “you’re team leader now.”
“Let’s be honest here… We all know who’s in charge,” Fred shrugs. “I’m actually relieved I can tap out.”
“You were always capable, Fred,” John replied, “you’ve managed when I was gone. You can’t doubt yourself.”
“Maybe...” Fred said. “Until I make a wrong decision. Back on Meridian, with that Brute? I would’ve made the wrong call.”
“That’s part of the job,” John quietly said.
Fred crosses his arms and doesn’t say anything.
After a minute or two, Fred clears his throat, “I never understood why over the years the down time seemed to get harder and harder. I feel like I’m getting more restless, you know? The quietness seems to bug me more.”
“Yeah…” John quietly whispers.
When John originally came back aboard the Infinity, it was... He wasn’t sure what the word is, but he remembered the deep sting he felt after each teammate he loss... This time, though, the quietness made it almost unbearable.
And a few days after he had reboarded, John had gotten word from then-Commander Lasky that some friends wanted to see them. And when John met with Blue Team, the excitement of being reunited was blanketed by the pain they all felt. Blue Team missed her too because John missed her.
"John…?" were the first words spoken since they last saw each other. Fred had lifted his hand to his helmet. He held it there briefly, then decided against taking it off. There were too many people in the hangar who might see.
"We all heard what happened… Lord Hood briefed us…" Fred had quietly continued.
John still hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t look at anyone's helmet.
Kelly had taken the reigns, "we all know how much Cortana meant to you, John."
Fred looked over to Linda. She nodded in agreement.
Fred sighed, decided it was fine, and unclasped the locks on his helmet. What stopped him before hadn’t stopped him this time. John saw his pale face. Dark brown hair and black eyes. Dark circles and grey wrinkles.
"John… I know it's been a long time… For us at least. But it doesn't matter. We're here for you. You're the best of us, and we need you as much as you need us right now. We'll follow you anywhere, John,” he said, “we’re family.”
I’m not doing this for Mankind… Cortana’s voice had popped into John’s head right as Fred said that...
John slowly raised his hands. Unclasped the locks on his helmet, and took it off… He didn't realize how heavy it was… And he didn't realize how the recycled air of the ship hurt his nose…
He looked down at his helmet. The perfect hexagonal patterns underneath the outer bulletproof glass of the visor...The…
John felt something roll down his cheeks…. His breath was raspy. His hands began to shake. He clenched them, tried to maintain his bearing.
A tear splattered on the visor… It slid down and pooled where the visor met the olive-green armor…
...Blue Team really was here… In real time it had only been a few months for John, but...it felt like another lifetime. And with them here, the memories...the training, the ones they lost...all the missions… Eridanus Secundus, Chi Ceti, Circinius IV, Sigma Octanus IV… Reach, all of it, flooded in all at once.
And with Cortana gone…
"John…" Kelly said. "You helped us get through it when we lost someone in the squad…. I guess what I'm trying to say is that...it's okay."
Cortana...she had just faded… After everything...she only...she…
Linda and Kelly slowly and cautiously took off their helmets… They all...they all had tears rolling down their cheeks. Silently… They had learned very early to cry silently. No sniffles. No long gasps for air… Silent.
"Near the end...” John began, “...She said the mission didn't matter anymore… And I felt the same way. The mission didn't matter anymore…" John almost whispered. He couldn't raise his voice. "She… she asked who I would sacrifice…for her…"
Blue Team looked to each other for a moment, perplexed. Fred looked back, "that doesn't sound like the Cortana we all knew…"
"She wasn’t okay,” John said, “she was fighting to stay alive, to make sure I got home alive.”
He couldn't say anything more. He felt his throat close up.
And they were quiet for a while. Merely quiet. It didn't matter where the rest of Blue Team had been for the past five years. All that mattered was that they were here now. They were with John again.
Since then, each day had gone by quickly yet the weeks seem like a lifetime. John had expected reassignment soon from the Infinity. Fred, an official ‘O,’ informed the team he heard and expected NAVSPECWAR to deploy them to COVCOM under command of Seventh Fleet, Fleet Admiral Goldstein. Fred expected they would hunt down what he heard is the ‘head’ of the new Shadow Covenant, Jul Madama’.
But for a while, that warning order never came. Even Fred and the rest seemed to be in limbo. As for John, in the most technical sense, Commander Palmer was his CO but he never received any orders from her. While ops raged mostly in Covenant space, the handful of remaining Spartan-IIs, the remaining companies of IIIs, and the seemingly endless IVs were able to handle it. Blue Team had gotten rotated on some missions, but a lot of it had simply been prolonged training ops and evaluations.
Instead…
"Welcome back home, son,” was the first thing Lord Hood had said to the Master Chief when he and the other four fleet admirals of HIGHCOM personally debriefed him aboard ODP Cairo. “How are you?”
The command deck and the tremendous observation deck that displayed the vast UNSC fleets and defense platforms was empty. Unlike five years ago, the lights were on low for nighttime. The deck was quiet and calm, nothing but the hum of the defense platform’s core reactor.
Commander Lasky and his now second-in-command then-Lieutenant Commander Palmer had accompanied John, standing at parade rest off to the side. But other than them, there’s only the HIGHCOM board. No support staff, security guards, anyone.
Other than Lord Hood, the HIGHCOM board had changed since the last time John had been back on Earth. It’s a different set of fleet admirals. All five of the fleet admirals were in their dress-whites; badges and medals adorned from all those years during –what everyone now simply called – the ‘War.’ A couple of these admirals probably began to earn their stripes during the Insurrection.
“Green, sir,” the Master Chief had replied.
Lord Hood nodded. He’s also in his dress whites. His face is stoic and void of any emotion. Even though he’s shorter than the chief, he somehow loomed larger, “I read your report. But I, and everyone else, wanted to talk to you in-person... To say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘my condolences’ won’t convey how hurt we are with the loss of Cortana.”
The Master Chief had no idea what to say to that. He remained at parade rest.
“Without her, none of us would be here today,” Lord Hood said. “She saved us five years ago, and she saved all of us now. Humanity asked her to make the ultimate sacrifice, and despite what she was suffering, she found a way. The Requiem incident represented a failure on every decision and procedural level. Your conviction, and Commander Lasky and Lieutenant Commander Palmer’s faith in you, ensured Humanity survived.
“The UNSC... Humanity will forever be in her debt.”
“We are in your debt, Master Chief,” a fleet admiral added.
Lord Hood nodded in agreement, then turned to the observation window as the edge of Earth turned in sunlight. “I’m sorry to say this, son, but we still need you.”
John heard a footstep behind him. When he looked back, Commander Lasky was out of parade rest, stepping to Lord Hood with a clenched fist. His face was...angry, John believed. Palmer had placed a shoulder on his hand, pulling him back. Lasky didn’t fight it, immediately returning to parade rest.
None of HIGHCOM noticed, or maybe didn’t mention anything.
“We thought we were prepared for any threat, but we were wrong,” Lord Hood continued. “The Didact sliced through Earth’s defenses and crushed the Home Fleet. NavLog’s AIs estimate it will take months to get up to full speed.”
“Aye, sir,” the Chief had simply replied.
“Son, we cannot allow anything else to get their hands on Requiem. We are going back there,” Lord Hood said. He turned to Commander Lasky, “Infinity will be the first one in.”
One of the other HIGHCOM admirals spoke, “Infinity will need a new commanding officer. That’ll be you, Captain Lasky.”
“Congratulations,” another admiral added, “we’ll make an official announcement and have Fleet Admiral Harper hold a promotion ceremony for you within the week. Get to the PX soon, buy your eagles.”
Captain Lasky was silent for a brief second, stumbling over words before he said, “thank you, ladies and gentlemen.”
“You too, Commander Palmer,” the first admiral had said, “buy your new insignias.”
They never really asked the Master Chief about the details on the Didact or Requiem, or didn’t mention anything else about Cortana. Instead, they focused on the coming Requiem operation and the Chief’s role at the tip of the spear. They didn’t expect Infinity to go in immediately. It’ll take a long time to refit and refuel, and unless something in the interim happened, HIGHCOM was willing to monitor and wait.
After a while, they dismissed the Chief. Commander, now Captain Lasky, and Lieutenant Commander now Commander Palmer stayed behind.
It’s an echoey, dead silence as the Chief walked away. As he stepped into the elevator, the conversation began to resume. The Master Chief only heard Lasky’s voice as the doors began to close.
This is wrong. You know it’s wrong, Lasky had said.
After that, more debriefings followed. It made John realize how everything really was different, how necessarily bureaucratic and redundant it’s become. It isn’t like during the War.
So many internal organizations wanted their piece. Other than Lord Hood though, the only other memorable debriefing was...
With them.
FLEETCOM would not let him attend this debriefing alone. Captain Lasky and Commander Palmer, along with three specialized NCIS investigators, two attorneys from the Naval JAG Division, and numerous other assignees surrounded the Master Chief in the cramped interview room.
Across from them, the single interviewer comfortably sat alone. His face and upper body are covered in shadow. The seal of the Office of Naval Intelligence adorned the shoulder of his gray Navy uniform
“Thank you, Master Chief,” the interviewer had said near the end. There’s an incessant typing in the background as a Dumb AI wrote the transcript. “I do have some final clarifying questions. Depending on your answer, however, I may have a follow-up. It may be best directed at Captain Lasky.”
“That’s not what NAVCOM’s orders entail,” one attorney quickly objected. “We’re here today to debrief the Master Chief. You want to debrief Captain Lasky, get NAVCOM to send the official request.”
“Maybe...” Captain Lasky tried to interject “we should at least let them ask their questions.”
It seemed no one else had heard him. The arguments went on like this for another twenty minutes. At twenty-one minutes, one of the attorneys stepped outside to make a recorded call to proper channels. After another thirty minutes, the attorney stepped back in.
“Set up the ball. We’ll see where it goes and we’ll decide if he can answer it,” she said.
“Thank you, Commander Niijima,” the interviewer calmy said, not missing a beat. “Master Chief, in your report, it states the Forward Onto Dawn had been adrift. Cortana had created a trajectory towards Earth. On your way there, Forward Onto Dawn entered Requiem’s gravitational orbit. Is that correct?”
“That’s correct, sir,” the Chief replied.
“We’ve analyzed the ship’s logs and Cortana’s recorded data,” the interviewer thumbed through what had to be Forward’s black box log. It had been translated from a technical log into a legal narrative. “Cortana had full authority over the ship. She had control over the Forward Unto Dawn’s sensors. But even despite her rampancy, she still kept highly accurate log records.”
“Yes, sir,” the Chief said. The two attorneys leaned forward, near about to interject.
“Is there a question, Lieutenant Phelps?” The other attorney asked.
“Master Chief,” the interviewer, Lieutenant Phelps, continued, “did Cortana ever discuss with you the specifics on how the Forward Unto Dawn reached Requiem?”
“No, sir.”
“You took her word, despite clear signs of ongoing rampancy?”
John had clenched his fist. It was under the table. He’s sure no one could see it.
“This isn’t a depo. Enough with the cross exam. Stick to the report,” the attorney, Commander Niijima, sternly said. “You want press any type of criminal charges, put it through NCIS or the JAG office.”
“I just want to make sure, Master Chief, that your report outlines everything. You or Cortana didn’t discuss anything else in regard to Forward Unto Dawn’s movements?”
“That’s correct, sir,” the Chief replied, emotionless. “The only communications concerning Forward’s movements is reflected in my report. Cortana told me herself that Forward Unto Dawn was adrift. From there, the ship encountered Requiem and was pulled into Requiem by the Didact.”
“You didn’t look at the ship logs, or her own logs, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It sounds like Forward Unto Dawn’s encounter with Requiem was just a coincidence then.”
John tilted his head, confused, “...I wouldn’t know, sir.”
The interviewer nodded. He looked over the reports for a while, slowly turning page after page. He leaned forward form the shadows. His blonde hair is combed to the side. He’s young, maybe late twenties.
“Captain Lasky...” the interviewer asked. “Sir, the Infinity received the coordinates to Requiem via a Forerunner weapon found on Gamma Halo.”
Captain Lasky turned to the attorneys. They nodded for Lieutenant Phelps to go ahead.
“That’s correct, Lieutenant,” Lasky replied.
“Did you personally look at the data, sir?”
“No. I believe our ship AI at the time, Aine, was the only one who looked at the raw data... The scientists at Ivanoff Research Station may have looked at it as well; I’m not sure though.”
“And Aine was destroyed when Infinity had crashed?”
“That’s correct...” Lasky sighed, “Captain Del Rio may know more about it.”
“And the scientists at Ivanoff are…unavailable.”
“…That’s one way to put it.”
The interviewer leaned back, studying the documents one last time in silence.
“That’s all I needed. Thank you for your time, Master Chief,” he abruptly said before quickly gathering his things and hurriedly exited the room.
“I don’t think he could paint it on any thicker than that,” Captain Lasky had later said to Blue Team as they gathered around what had become their designated corner in the Spartan Ops bay. The other Spartans, the IVs, maintained their distance.
Captain Lasky had looked chipper that morning, a cup of coffee in his hands and datapad in the other. His new gold captain’s eagles glistened in the sterile light of the Spartan Ops bay, “ONI isn’t stupid.”
Kelly sighed in frustration as she continued to look down, intensely studying a field ops manual. Except, she wasn’t. Her attention kept turning to various different things. Inventory count; ammo count; ops orders. Anything but Lasky.
“Why do you think he did that then?” Fred asked, forcing out every word, as he mindlessly fiddled with the upper receiver of a battle rifle. Nothing was wrong with the receiver.
“Well...” Lasky thought it through for a moment as he downed the rest of his coffee. A week ago was his promotion ceremony. Fred had heard that while Lasky wanted the minimum, pertinent personnel necessary to attend, Fleet Admiral Harper had demanded a full ship-wide ceremony as per regulation. It was a headache.
“I don’t see ONI doing it out of desperation,” Lasky finally said. “When they’re desperate, they only act. Along with that, what would be pressuring them? I don't think either them or anyone else like FLEETCOM would let internal politics bleed like that. If HIGHCOM’s the one putting pressure on them, Lord Hood would just come right out to us and say it. So why would they let it slip right now? The only other answer is they wanted you,” he had nodded to the Master Chief, “to know about what happened.
“And why? Well, your guess is as good as mine,” Lasky ended.
“You think ONI had....?” Fred trailed off. He didn’t want to say the question out loud.
“No, I don’t think they were involved with the Forward Unto Dawn,” Lasky confidentially replied. “They would’ve taken credit at this point. They’re the ones who brought the Master Chief back to life... Forgiveness rather than permission... Something like that, you know?”
“Fred...” Linda quietly whispered as she hugged her knees, sitting in between two crates, and making herself as small as she could. As small as a Spartan-II could’ve anyways. “In the future, can you have these conversations away from the rest of us?”
No one said anything as the bustily noise of Spartans continuing to train and work filled in the silence. Captain Lasky looked at each of them and seemed to realize something.
“It sucks being an officer, Lieutenant,” Lasky began. “It’s a different world.”
“Lot of anticipation... Lot of guessing,” Fred replied.
“I know...” Captain Lasky went quiet for a moment before putting the datapad down on one of the empty crates. He sat down on the crate furthest from the Spartans. “I know you’ve all been through a lot, but you can trust me and Commander Palmer. We’ll look out for you. That’s my first job as ship captain.”
Linda made a snickering sound before burying her head to hide herself.
Lasky grimaced, “the cliches don’t help... but I do mean it, as much as I can. We’ll make sure everything is alright.”
“Thank you, sir,” Fred said for the group.
Then, Blue Team sat in the middle of the Spartans Ops bay in silence – the spin of armory rings continued in the decks below; Spartans trained in disorganized hand-to-hand combat or PTed.
Captain Lasky looked around for a moment, then turned back to Blue Team.
“You know...” He finally said. “I’ll talk to my Ops Department head. I think your own separate quarters may be fitting.”
No one hadn’t said anything, but when John watched Linda and Kelly, their bodies untensed as relief washed over them.
“Are you sure, sir...?” Fred asked. “If there’s not enough room, we’ll make due-”
“Believe me, Fred,” Lasky replied, “the one thing we don’t lack aboard the Infinity is space.”
And after that, everything had become a blur until about a month and a half ago, a couple weeks before the Christmas leave block. The warning order finally came. They were sent to Meridian, and almost lost Linda.
“Meridian... It was too close” John began after a while, as the two Spartans remained silent. “How many have we lost already?”
“What do you count as losses?” Fred finally says as more NavLog ships flew past the Infinity. “I remember everyone… And there’s more gone than there are of us still alive… If you really want to know.”
John shook his head. This is something new to Fred as his tone is sharp and defensive.
“Do you remember everyone who died during the augmentations?” John suddenly asks.
“Yeah…?”
“After the funeral, Chief Mendez told me something that might be relevant to you… that ‘a leader must be ready to send the soldiers under his commander to their deaths. That our duty to the UNSC supersedes your duty to yourself or even your team,’” John shakeshis head.
“…What about it?” Fred quietly asks. His intercom beeps as he received a priority message.
Through the beeping, John spoke, “The mission still matters, but....”
Fred pulls up the message as John looked at him, continuing to speak, “but losing one of us isn’t acceptable just because Command included it in the risk assessment. We bring everyone home unless there’s no other way.”
Fred slowly nods, as he shot back between John and the message. His face looks nervous and unsure… Fred now realized John had never spoken like this before.
“Well…” Fred said. “We get sent on a mission. If we do, Command deems it important enough where they’re willing to risk us. We won’t always have a choice.”
Before John could respond, Fred continues as he reads through the message, “well, maybe we can talk about this later. I just got a pretty intense WARNO order. They want us to gear up, immediately.”
Whatever is happening, this is it... It’s not Requiem. The UNSC wouldn’t send them in so haphazardly. This is something else entirely.
Fred storms off as he headed to the Spartan Armory Bay. John hesitates for a second before following.
He realized he couldn’t say this to Fred. In the end, John will have to decide....
Decide whether the mission is worth it. Not them.
As he heads to the Spartan Bay, his mind wanders back to the augmentations...
He isn’t sure why.