Chapter Text
1523 hours, December 11th, 2561, Zeta Halo (Installation 07)
Under the layers of his MJOLNIR Mark VI armor, the Master Chief was still just a man. A man who had limits, limits that he was approaching at speed. Joyeuse had notified him of Cortana’s call only thirty minutes ago, but already he’d made the decision to answer it, shocking Esparza when he appeared at the ramp of his Pelican, asking him, Joyeuse, FOB November’s mechanics, and Adjutant Resolution (who’d taken to a more interactive and hands-on approach to caring for his Installation and its human inhabitants) to get a Wasp prepared for a nighttime stealth entry one week from now, stating that he was going to find Cortana.
November’s bewildered inhabitants could only watch as the legendary Master Chief tripped over a tree root before recovering and taking one of eight M290 Mongoose all-terrain vehicles present.
There’s no way she’s alive. It can’t be. What if she’s gotten worse? I know she came to her senses, that’s why she… His fists clench and release.
Why she sacrificed herself. Again.
…
…
…She’s only an AI. Susceptible to corruption, he reasons. As much as I’d love to have her back, I must tread carefully. If this is Cortana as I-no, as we knew her, then she knows I’ll be mistrustful of her. She’ll have to work to get it back.
Disturbing thoughts, born of anger and frustration, surfaced in John’s mind as he drove the Mongoose to a stone altar on a hill, close to a line where Zeta Halo split. Two hundred meters in front of him was the former camp of deceased Jackal master sniper Barroth. To the right, was a view of the Command Spire, his home the Eastern Beacon, and to the left was a view of the Southern Beacon once guarded by two Wraiths, FOBs Kilo and Hotel way off in the distance.
He shook them off as he shut down the vehicle’s engine, approached, and stood at the altar, a wistful look crossing his features as he thought back to the past. Before all of this, Requiem, all of it. Thinking about what I could’ve done differently. How he might’ve been able to stand by Cortana on her digital deathbed, if she would have even had one.
Where she would have been a dear friend to the end.
Where he wouldn’t have to hate her for the things she’s done.
Where things could have been different.
Where she didn’t hurt him trying to save him.
As John sat, dusk faded into night.
The night held no comfort, but neither did it pity nor scorn him.
He was used to Marines, ODSTs, and Spartans alike watching and whispering behind his back, usually “how do you think he feels about all this?”
This still happened, of course.
As the artificial sun rose again, he returned himself and the Mongoose to FOB November. The morning patrol was out.
He considered the complex he was in. Even this early, Marines and Navy personnel were already chatting and laughing amongst themselves. They sat, stood, walked, ate, all while sharing stories, cleaning weapons, performing repairs, checks and all the rest. They were alive. They had families, things or people they valued. They had a reason to smile.
He did not, and it seemed impossible for him to have a reason to smile as well, but…
Maybe, he thought, maybe he could have his reason again. After all, one of the SPARTAN-II program’s main selling points was that more often than not, for them, impossible didn’t exist.
It’s that kind of thinking that almost got you and Blue Team to the year 12557. Slow down, analyze, plan, then execute.
So, that’s what he did. Echo 216’s ramp was open, which meant that Esparza was awake. Sounds of conversation hit his ears as he approached.
“I’ve never seen him like that.”
“His file says he went AWOL to look for Cortana in October 2558, so I guess we shouldn’t really be surprised,” replied Joyeuse.
Esparza sounds incredulous. “Yeah, but he doesn’t strike me as the type of guy to go batshit crazy just because his former partner called for him again after dying, becoming a dictator, dying again, apparently having come to her senses, but not after getting us stuck on this damned Ring!”
Joyeuse’s hologram materialized a chair and sat on it.
“I mean, I’m not saying that she’s only done bad things, we do have her and the Chief to thank for ending the War. But what happened? We both know that she sacrificed herself at some point (Joyeuse knew when and where, it was in the memories’ metadata), so what happened?”
Joyeuse’s face shifted as she pondered the question. “According to the files I have on-hand, and it’s not a lot,” she chuckled after the Chief’s visor snapped to her with unnatural speed, “that when Cortana died she found a data repository known as the Domain that cured her rampancy and stabilised her. Unfortunately for Cortana, she was so fragmented at that point that instead of her core personality, her fragments were brought to the front, and became her personality.”
“…seeing the Chief apparently dead really affected her. She cares a lot, you know,” she said. It was for John, but Esparza didn’t know that the Spartan had been there for a good five minutes now.
“She’s not the only one.”
Esparza jumped, hard. “What do you- when did you get there?”
“I heard everything,” he looks out the cargo bay door, “and yes, I care about her. I only realized after she died. I always wondered what would’ve happened if I’d realized sooner. Maybe this might mot be happening right now.”
“Even in the closing months of the War, there were a million ways things could have played out - literally. When I left High Charity, I could’ve gotten her to leave a clone instead of herself, if only to save her from the Gravemind.”
At Requiem, and on the Mantle’s Approach. What if I’d asked the Librarian to give her upgrades similar to Joyeuse’s? What if I’d pulled her chip out one second earlier?”
“I could’ve gotten her to stand down, if I had only told her that on Genesis. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: those are the reasons why this is on me. I should have protected Cortana. I didn’t, and she changed and did all of this.”
Joyeuse formed her hardlight avatar sitting on the Pelican’s co-pilot’s seat.
“She may be directly responsible for it all, but I still failed to stop her. People tend to overlook the indirect a lot.”
“You love her.”
“I…” John chuckles. “I guess you could say that, yeah.”
“When did you figure that out?” The holographic display in the Pelican’s cargo hold activates.
“…That’s classified information.” It technically was, as it all happened in that box of blue hardlight high above Earth, he was just too frozen to do much about it.
“Alright, then. Let’s see how we’ll do this…”