#where is cortana when chief needs her

[mrsfeiix]

I had the weirdest dream last night

In my dream The Master chief from Halo somehow crashes on the planet of felucia near a squad of clone troopers who just lost their jedi. When he wakes up he’s surrounded by these clones and whips out an energy sword for defense. When the clones see the plasma sword they all share one collective brain cell and proceed to point and call him jedi/general. Poor chief is so confused and tired because at the end of the day he single handily stops an army of droids and accidentally adopts a squad of clones who follow him around like a lost puppy.

This dream could a factor that I have been playing MCC as well as rewatching the clone wars

[short-honey-badger]

Shore Leave

Summary! Captain Lasky orders the Master Chief a two week shore leave. Overwhelmed by his lack of armor and unused to the flow of civilian traffic, he parks himself on a bench and meets you.

Pairings! Master Chief x Reader

Set after the events of Halo 4 and influenced from my love of the game and how good season 2 of the TV series. I wanted to try my hand at something new. I hope you enjoy.

Part 2 -> HERE Part 3 -> HERE

Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117, or John to his friends - the few he had left, cautiously strode through the throngs of civilians. Captain Lasky had ordered him a full two weeks shore leave, no combat, no weapon, no MJOLNIR. Lasky had suggested he take some time to himself, grieve if he needed to after fighting for so long with little reprieve in between battles. To be honest, John wasn't sure what he should do with his time. Despite being one of the last of the original Spartans, the chief had hardly ever been completely alone.

Cortana. She'd always been there, a soft hum in the back of his mind, and John wasn't proud enough to admit that he felt a little lost without her.

Even though the armorless spartan towered above the crowd, he began to feel surrounded, overwhelmed with how densely packed the city was. He wasn't used to being out of his armor, and it made him feel naked, vulnerable in a way that John didn't like. Luckily, he spotted a bench not too much farther away, situated at the beginning of what looked like a small park. John sat heavily, back straight and blue eyes casting around as he took deep breaths to regulate his breathing.

No one bothered him, and John took the time to watch the hoards of civilians go to and fro. He watched couples hold hands, and families carefully guide their children along the sidewalks, each man and woman heading to whatever their destination may be. After a while, and now that John had been able to relax a little, he realized that he enjoyed watching the flow and allowed his mind to wander.

Could he ever have something like this? Such a mundane and easy life, never worrying if the next battle he faced would be his last. If he would ever see his brothers and sisters again? Would he ever live such a simple existence where his only fear is missing the train? The Master Chief doesn't think that he could, not when so much of himself has been lost to war and death. Not when it was his duty to protect the civilians here so that they could have that life.

“Sir, you've been sitting here a while now. Can I help you with anything?”

John is brought out of his thoughts by the soft voice. He turns his head and sees that you have somehow snuck up on him, and he silently berates himself for not noticing. However, you had asked him a question, and the Chief didn't want to come off as rude.

“No, ma'am. Just…watching,” He says slowly, and he feels his cheeks heat up a bit. Was that odd to say? John didn't know, but he felt reassured when he spots the smile that curled your lips.

“Well, good. I don't think I’d be strong enough to haul you anywhere if there was something wrong,” you say, and huff a little at your own words.

John doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't have any kind of experience with civilians, not like this, anyway. He wracks his brain for something to say and wishes that Cortana was still here to walk him through this.

However, you don't seem to mind his silence. Instead, you sit back on the bench and look out at the busy stream of people. You are quiet for a while, but the spartan is prepared when you speak up again.

“I like to people watch too. Makes you feel a little less alone in the universe, ya know?” You say and grin again, suddenly scooting down the bench to sit beside the big man who seemed far too lonely when you'd seen him outside the café across the street.

John tenses, not expecting to have you so close, but he doesn't deny that feeling the heat from where your arm is pressed into his feels…nice. He nods slowly, agreeing with your quiet statement.

“It makes you realize that you aren't the only one out there having a hard time, or becoming successful, or even falling in love. We are all human, and even if it doesn't seem like it, we're all in this together,” you pause, and then your smile becomes a bit mischievous.

“And it's kind of fun to make up stories about them.”

John blinks, a bit confused about that. He turns and looks down at his guest, feeling his cheeks heat up again when he sees you looking right back, eyes cheerful and face far too close to his own. He looks away quickly and sits up straight from his slight slouch.

‘What do you mean?”

Bravely, you lean into his space and gesture subtly at an older couple that are walking down the sidewalk, a heated discussion going on between them. The man looks annoyed as his wife babbles on about who knows what, and you giggle softly and say.

“She's probably upset because her husband - they are definitely married, by the way - forgot to take out the trash. Look at him, he's heard this a thousand times.”

John takes in the look of fond exasperation that paints the older man's expression, squinting his eyes to try and see it the way you are. It doesn't make much sense to him, but he thinks he understands.

You poke your new friend in the arm and nod your head at a gaggle if girl's who are giggling and fawning over a data pad.

“They're probably looking at the cute boy who invited one of them to prom. Or maybe a famous celebrity crush.”

You point out a few other civilians, and one or two of your little stories get the stoic man to crack a tiny smile, and eventually relax again, even with you pressed so close to his side. It feels good to have someone near. Someone who can so easily take up the quiet space that he still isn't used to feeling. The Master Chief finds that he rather likes your company and would like to know more about you.

John finally speaks up again when there is a lul in the rather one-sided conversation, turning to face you completely.

“Do you think you could show me more?”

You take in the careful way he asks, the soft timbre of his voice, and you find yourself nodding easily, and you offer your hand, introducing yourself properly.

“I'd love to. My name is _.”

The Spartan carefully takes your offered hand and marvels at just how small it is compared to his own. He meets your gaze, his blue eyes striking in the city lights.

“My name is John.”

[empresskadia]

I have John-117 brain rot tonight and I'm sleep-deprived, so buckle up friends ;)

I've been thinking about how Spartans use their downtime after missions because regardless if they want it or not, they're gonna get ordered to take mandatory downtime. So it's not surprising when Captain Lasky tells Blue team to take a 48-hour rest period, even if John tries to protest and tell him they're fine. An order is an order.

So, Fred goes to catch up on paperwork, Kelly wants to go bully the IVs and Linda joins her on the promise that they'll go to the shooting range together and get a chance to play wargames, so she can test out a new modification she made to Nornfang.

But, all three know where John's going to go and that's to find his partner. They know the Chief won't admit it but they notice the slight slack of his shoulders as they leave debriefing and John's eyes flickering to the door as they get stripped from their second skin. They know the exact direction of your room and coincidentally that's the way Chief is heading after they've showered.

None of them say anything but exchange small glances of understanding. In a way, his partner was the only time he allowed himself to feel human, even if it was just a fraction. They'll all tease John about it in the morning when you both arrive for breakfast, but until then, they were grateful for the small reprieve you gave him.

So when your door swishes open after the bioscan confirms his handprint and the only light in the room is a dim glare from the projected screen playing a rerun of a show he's sure you've already watched and the body in the bed barely moving in response, he knows you're tired. There are no words said as he approaches, his partner giving him a simple hum of acknowledgment as you roll over to make room for his giant frame on the mattress.

John's movements are slow and careful not to disturb you too much. He sits on the edge, the familiar creak of the springs under his weight like a subtle greeting. You can hear the steady rhythm of his breathing as he begins to uncurl the laces of his boots as you instinctively reach out, fingers brushing against his forearm. It's a simple touch, but the question is there, asking if he's okay. He pauses for a moment, glancing back at you, and in the dim light, you can see those blue eyes soften slightly and the barest hint of exhaustion lay there.

No, he wouldn't say anything, but you could know and he lets you see.

He lies down next to you, his massive arm wrapping around your waist as you shift slightly for his head to rest on your chest. Your hand instinctively goes to his back, and running your nails up and down his back, taking a moment to gently brush over the divots of scars that you could tell apart from the augmentation ones to the ones he received from countless battles.

After a moment, you could feel him relax into your embrace, finding that perfect spot where your shoulder cradles his head. The gentle patterns on his back are seemingly like a lullaby for the Spartan. The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, the hum of the old show filling in as white noise.

John sighs, a deep, slow breath that you're sure he's been keeping in for a long time. You know he's holding a lot inside—memories of what happened to Cortana and the Didact, the constant need to keep going, and the result of New Phoenix. But here, in the quiet of your room, he can let go just a little, trusting you to hold the pieces together while he rests.

You keep tracing the lines on his back, your fingers gentle but deliberate as the room descends into total quiet and darkness. The air is warm, and the subtle scent of your shampoo mingles with the sterile smell of the Spartan's armor. You rest your head against his, the warmth of his skin bringing a small comfort to your tired mind.

It's not often you get moments like these—where the world outside doesn't matter, where you're not Spartans, but just two people sharing a quiet night together.

Downtime is as much a part of the job as the missions, and if it means spending it with you, he's not going to argue. Even if he had an easier time being a part of the armor, he could be human for a moment. Human for you.

[bloodgulchblog]

fuck it i woke up and thought about halo and can't get back to sleep.

i really genuinely truly, from the bottom of my heart, think that sergeant johnson is a critical character for a halo adaptation and creates a lot of opportunities.yes, he's dead. yes, he's been dead for longer than we had that character in the first place. but if halo wants to return to the story of the original three games, johnson is so so valuable.

bear with me and pretend i know a damn thing about tv for a second.

everybody loves our boy master chief, but chief is an obnoxiously difficult character to portray directly as a leading man in a medium where you cannot easily get inside his head. chief's quiet and private and focused on his work. because of that, chief's personality is a negative space that you demonstrate the most through the characters around him. the people you put around chief and have talking to him, telling him stuff, and asking him to do things are the tools you have for illustrating him so they gotta be good. cortana is the best of them, obviously, but cortana is also an AI so her perspective on the world is also very weird.

of the human characters who interact the most with chief in that period of time, johnson is by far the best and the one who has the most layers. on the top layer, johnson is charming and funny and competent and tough. game fans love and remember him because he's likable. on the deeper layers, johnson is a long-experienced participant in this war and the war that came before the aliens showed up. he knows a lot of secrets, including the vital secrets about the chief, and has conflicted feelings he carries around. he keeps his head down and his ears up, and plays dumb jarhead to protect himself and others. he has just as much crazy shit in his backstory as chief and cortana, but chief's chief and cortana is like 3 years old tops and also an ai. johnson is our adultiest adult. johnson's pretty stable, he knows who he is and what's going on, and his perspective is much less strange.

chief needs handler characters with perspectives that are easier to grasp than his. johnson is an amazing handler character for chief because johnson knows him, johnson knows why he's fucked up, and johnson is a decent dude who cares about him even though he cannot save him. if you dilate the timeline to let these two characters talk, it is easy to have johnson check on chief and have chief report back that he's fine in a way that totally shows oh, this dude's priorities are insane. you establish that johnson knows the chief and is looking out for him, and then you do a flashback that shows he has known chief since he was a teenaged child soldier? jesus, suddenly so many things click together. you don't even have to get into the details of johnson's own status as a spartan-i grad for it to work.

it doesn't stop there! johnson's also a key character if you're working with the arbiter! johnson's the first human the arbiter ever has a chance to have respect for, and johnson's smart and able to figure out how to work with him! it also makes for great parallels because johnson was there when the war with the covenant started. you don't have to shoehorn him into a situation to create a bookend, it's just there.

johnson is a likable character with a rich backstory and a nuanced perspective on events and a complex relationship to them. (oh avery johnson, you have been victim of and complicit in so much shit, how's that going for you buddy?) he's a capable action character who also works well on the quieter end, is known and involved in secrets, and can draw out interesting and important details in the original trilogy's two main characters.

also, johnson is just a genuinely cool character who deserves more and on the one hand it's probably ultimately better for the character that he hasn't changed hands a dozen times like everyone else, but on the other his death still feels like a gutpunch and a loss. so like. idk. give him something cool to do in an adaptation from the time where he's alive.

....

anyway, the punchline of this whole thing is that i think johnson is a vital character. so of course he wasn't in that tv show.

[morganas-pendragons]

respite | Master Chief

this is the halo discords fault.

@lialacleaf / @embarrassedauthornerd / @empresskadia

***

His dreams are not kind to him.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to wake up in the middle of the night and not allow the scream building in his throat to break free. To untangle his grip from crumpled sheets, to slow his breathing back to something steady where his heartbeat isn't pounding in his own ears.

His dreams are not kind to him. His ghosts, even less.

You're woken up to screaming.

His adjustment has not been easy since Cortana's disappearance. So much has happened to the Master Chief in so little time, and not a single person onboard this ship has taken the opportunity to give him the time to process it.

You're determined to be the one who helps him do so. It starts off simple, as it did when you first met. Assurances of watching his back and being his partner on the field. Friendly touches on forearms and shoulders, firm nods of confirmation, always looking out for each other.

It had turned into something more when he'd saved you from the Flood.

It had turned into something more for him when you'd saved him from the group of Brute Chieftains just before High Charity had crashed. That's a whole other story for a whole other day.

John trusted you. He trusted you with his life, with himself, and that was not easy to obtain. Having the trust of The Master Chief as both a soldier and a person was like being given his heart and watching it settle into your hands.

A broken, bleeding thing.

You remember the first time he'd actually screamed. It was loud and agonizing and raw, and only hours after Miranda had died. You had maybe two hours tops before you had to activate the Ring. You'd forced him to sleep for said two hours, because he was not going to function well otherwise.

The Arbiter acted as he did not hear it. Dishonorable, he'd said, to look upon a man like that and acknowledge his turmoil.

"Well, your dishonor is our comfort."

You'd entered the room and sat by his side until he calmed down. You didn't touch him, you didn't say a word, but the act of your presence at his side was enough.

You slid his helmet back on and leaned forward to lightly knock your head against it. There is not an ounce of apprehension in your gaze. No. That's confidence.

Confidence in him.

"To war then, Master Chief."

John had come to appreciate that about you. When everyone else was betting on him to lose and the odds were entirely against him, your steady footing and steadfastness were all he needed to keep pushing forward.

He found himself seeking you out more than embracing his elusive nature and isolating to cope with what played behind his eyes when he slept. Miranda's death. Keyes death. Johnsons death. Cortana-

Cortana had taken his willingness to embrace the fight. Having you and her had rejuvenated him. Had given him a purpose that he felt he could successfully fulfill.

Then she was gone. She'd touched him, said those words that would forever be burned into his memory, and she was gone.

John would've been lying if he said he wasn't terrified that the same thing would happen to you.

That's what brought him to this point. Fingers wound tightly enough in the sheets to crumple them beneath his grasps, blue eyes wildly seeking something to anchor to while his heart pounded loudly in his ears. The moonlight fractured against the window to his right, illuminating the bedroom and his body in white as he twisted and turned on the mattress.

He didn't fully emerge from that nightmare until you opened the door.

Vulnerable. You're vulnerable. You are not safe.

"John? Are you alright?"

You haven't moved. He can just barely see you lingering in the darkness of his doorway. You've closed the door behind you on entry, fingers wound around the wall loosely as you wait for an opening to come closer.

He needs to breathe. His chest hurts, and his eyes are on fire, and why are his cheeks wet-

You're sitting beside him in a moment's notice. He can't quite hear what you're saying now, and perhaps he doesn't need to, because all he can feel is the warmth of your hand on his chest and the other curving around his jawline. It's a stark contrast from the bitter cold of death that always seems to linger in his dreams.

He reads your lips instead as the world slowly comes back into focus. You are safe. You are with someone you trust. You are secure. All attributes that the two of you have said about one another. All attributes that caused him to allow himself to be vulnerable, to allow you to see a side of him most people didn't.

His mind shifts backwards to the first time he'd let you remove his helmet. That alone spoke volumes. Most Spartans didn't even let the other members of their fire team remove their helmets, or their armor.

It had been the talk of the Infinity for weeks.

"John." You're still giving him an opportunity to talk, and the way your gentleness and patience is so all encompassing causes the breath he'd lost to slowly come back into his lungs. "What do you need?"

The logical part of his brain knows the answer to that. He needs to win the war. He needs peace of mind. He needs sleep, and food, and Blue. He really misses Blue Team.

What he does not need is to talk about this dream. About the death. About losing you, and how watching you die finally made him wake up to a very simple realization: Losing you was not an option. Losing you could not happen, because he was in love with you, and had been for a while.

His desires had just not allowed themselves to be known when being the face of a war only he could win.

His heart, however, is what wins out in the end. Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117 looks up at you and says, "You."

***

You don't know what that means. For all the time that you and John have been dancing around each other - years, in fact, because you'd resigned yourself to your feelings being one-sided long before this - you never anticipated broken, bleeding fingers shakily reaching out to wrap your own around what is left of his heart.

That is exactly what's on full display right now.

"I don't want to take advantage-"

Your breath catches in your throat as John's hands come to cradle your jaw. It's the first time he's touched you without gloves covering his fingers. It's the first time you've also been able to really see him without the helmet, and he is the most magnificent man you've ever laid eyes on.

You've wondered for years what color his eyes are. It has haunted your dreams, especially whenever the two of you were separated when the Forward Unto Dawn split.

Blue. Such a glorious, deep shade of blue.

"If I didn't want it," He says quietly. "I wouldn't ask."

You slide your knees against the standard UNSC mattress and allow him to, though slowly and hesitantly, take you into his embrace. Menial comforts are not something Spartans are afforded. To be able to take the offer of your comfort, of you, is not something he ever regret doing.

John's head slowly falls into the dip of your shoulder the minute you are in his lap. It's comfortable, and warm, and all you can feel against you is every part of him. It's exactly what you've dreamt of for all the years you've held such deeply rooted feelings for him.

You shiver as his breath fans across your skin. It's intimate. You wonder if picking his head back up to kiss him is too far, but you miss one hundred percent of the risks you don't take.

So you do.

"John," You whisper. "There's never going to be a time where I don't bet on you. You are the one who's gotten us this far, and you're the one who will see us through. I know it. I believe in you."

You watch the knot in his throat bob as he swallows, eyes brightened by the beams of moonlight from outside as you both hesitate.

"Believe in me a little bit longer," His voice is so low that you almost don't hear it, and he's the one who leans forward to follow that desire he has suppressed for is long. "Please."

You nod. Once, twice, three times.

"Always."

And the moment his mouth catches yours, the safety he has so desperately been seeking since Cortana disappeared finds itself encompassing him within their arms.

For the weary soldier, respite comes in the form of his partner: His compassionate, empathetic, gentle partner who will always be there to watch his six. To fight his demons, to ward away his ghosts.

He would not have it be anyone else.

Only you.

[beansguytm]

Hey everyone, time for me to sperg out about one of--if not my favorite scene in Halo Infinite. Read on below the cut.

Take a look. You only need to watch through to 2:12 for what I'm going to say. In this scene, we see the Master Chief rescue Spartan Griffin from the cell where he was being tortured. There's so much right about this scene god damn it. The acting is perfect. The Weapon's facial expressions and intonation are perfect. She genuinely seems like she's at a loss for what to do to comfort this broken, broken man. Cortana would know what to say. The Weapon doesn't. What she eventually settles on is redirecting Chief's attention to the mission. It works, getting him moving forward.

The camera work is also so fucking good. It's one continuous shot, like most of the cutscenes in the game. The moment Griffin is freed, it focuses on him, then throughout his conversation, slowly revolves around to focus on Chief instead, eventually leaving Griffin only barely visible in Chief's visor but completely out of frame. That's when they hit you with Griffin's death. Then the pan around the Weapon, and how it follows Chief in a way that makes him look pissed the fuck off. Ough, chef's kiss.

Now let's talk about the four ways that the game communicates that Griffin has died, just out of frame. They layer four different things to make damn sure you know what just happened, while keeping the dialogue in tone. It wouldn't make sense for Chief or the Weapon to say he died, and Esparza doesn't know, so instead, they rely on these four things.

1) The music. At the start of the scene, we hear the haunting women's choir that is heavily featured in the game's soundtrack. As soon as Griffin mentions the Spartans, there is a tiny bit of the men's choir that is so heavily associated with the series, with the Master Chief, with the Spartans. Then after only a measure of men's choir, we get hit with the slow, deep strings. It lingers on the strings alone for a long time, just to let it sink in. The choir comes back once Esparza radios in, but very subtle and somber. Finally, percussion and digital instrumentation comes in when the Weapons brings Chief back by talking about the mission. The piece really does everything it needs to, especially the sudden shift to indicate that a character has died just out of frame.

2) The lighting. Oh, the lighting. It's never comforting, but the fact that the bright warm white light above their heads goes out right as Griffin dies, fading to the harsh red contrasting with the Weapon's soft blue. There isn't much to describe here, but yeah, it's a fantastic switch up. The red can be seen as Chief's anger, and the blue as his sadness. Even if that's looking too far into it, the change is just one more indicator of Griffin's death.

3) Chief's posture. This is so subtle but it's so impactful to both our understanding of the events and Chief's emotions. Before Griffin dies, he's leaning forward to rest his hand on Griffin's shoulder. Once Griffin dies, Chief leans back very slightly. His head tilts the just tiniest amount. He lowers his hand as he processes what's happening. The camera pans to the Weapon, and by the time it turns back to Chief, he's standing again. But he's still looking at Griffin. When he finally looks up at her, there's a slight pause before he makes the sudden movement to collect her and move on. Oh, and the way he looks down for just a moment before looking ahead and raising his gun, oh man. He's pissed. He's so angry, and he's channeling that into determination to complete his mission.

4) The heartbeat. I saved the best for last. If you're playing on controller, and if you have vibration turned on, you'll be greeted by the most fucking heart-wrenching piece of 4D storytelling. The moment Griffin falls into Chief's arms, your controller starts vibrating to the rhythm of Griffin's heartbeat. As they talk, the beating gets softer, and softer, until right as the music and lighting change, it stops. The controller goes silent. By the time you realize what's happening, Chief has realized too, and he leans back. AAAGGGHHH it's so good!! Christ, man, I can't get over it. I started to tear up when I played through it the first time.

Anyway yeah that's my infodump on this fucking fantastic scene. Thanks for reading!

[ageless-aislynn]

Title: “15 Minutes” (11/15) Author:  @ageless-aislynn​ Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: John has learned something new that he'd like to show you… Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating:  T (PG13) Length: 2,630 (this chapter, 27,487 total so far) Spoilers: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N:  Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. It's, yet again, been awhile since the last update, sad to say. I've been slogging through writer's block, health issues and some kinda awful real life stress but I'm not giving up on this fic (or its sibling, "Recreation"). I'd like to say that the final chapters will be here very soon but, well… I've learned to not call my shots, lol. I will, however, do my best to get them here as soon as I can. If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger​ @mysardencut​ @laurenstacy610​ @sporadicbelievernightmare​ @ultrablackwidower​ @bxmxtx​ @jellotherelol @mirandastuckinthe80s

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

PT arrived bright and early and, while you continued to bring out every expletive in every language you knew, ultimately it seemed your left side was improving: more range of motion in your shoulder and more strength in your leg, though the healing fractures still ached. All together, though, it was a win, no matter that it left you sweating and shaking like you'd wrestled an Elite and lost spectacularly.

You'd just come out of the shower and put on a fresh set of clothes when the door chimed. To your surprise, you found Riz and Vannak in their civvies standing there. You knew Silver Team had been on stand-by for the past few days – John hadn't been able to join you for every meal, understandably, but he had been there every night. Sleeping curled up in his arms was a luxury you weren't sure how you were going to give up when the time came. Kai and her friend had visited but this was the first time the other two Spartans had.

"Please, come in," you said and they did.

"You need new curse words," Riz said seriously.

"We got here while you were doing your therapy," Vannak explained. "Didn't want to interrupt."

"You could hear me cussing out in the hall?" you asked.

"Superior Spartan hearing," she said, matter-of-fact. "I doubt anyone else could."

"Teach her the one," he urged in as animated a tone as you'd ever heard from him before. "You know, the good one."

Which is how you ended up getting a tongue-twisting word in Sangheili added to your arsenal.

"You say that to any Covenant species and it's guaranteed to send them into a rage," Riz said with a confident nod.

"Except the Unggoy," Vannak added with a sneer. "Little bastards couldn't give a shit. They'll try to kill you on principle."

"I'll make sure I'm on a bullhorn from far away, then," you said, biting the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. "Don't want to be in striking distance if I'm going to send them into a rage."

They thought that over.

"Chief won't appreciate us telling her to pick a fight with a Sangheili," she pointed out.

"Just use it on somebody you're pretty sure you can take in a fight," he told you.

"I'll keep that in mind," you said.

They made slightly stilted small talk for about 15 more minutes, then took their leave.

A rest seemed in order, so you propped up on the bed and checked the news. They were in the middle of reporting that they had yet to apprehend the man who had tried to smuggle the bomb back to FLEETCOM in the Warthog. It showed some stock images of the Pit before being damaged by the explosion and that got you to thinking…

There should be some sort of footage of the explosion, right?

But, after poking around on your padd for a little while, you hadn't found much beyond what apparently had been approved for public viewing.

"Would you like some help with that?"

Cortana's voice startled you.

"Oh, hey there," you said, thinking, Poor thing, she's got the most boring job in the world keeping an eye on me. I hope I get the chance to buy her a coffee or something after all is said and done. Then your brain tardily caught up with her words. "You mean you have footage from the explosion?"

"Yes, I do."

"And it's something I have clearance to see?"

"I have footage from the explosion," she repeated, her tone supremely innocent.

Before you could decide whether to ask to see it or not, the holo on the wall lit up. The security cams had caught the explosion from multiple angles. You winced as you saw a body – your body – fly out of the crane operator seat to disappear into a sea of smoke and debris.

A moment later, the view changed, the quality severely degrading. You squinted through the pixilation and haze and realized you were seeing from the point of view of the holo-emiter Cortana had contacted you from.

"Oh, shit," you muttered. The massive beam that had pinned you down should've killed you outright but you'd gotten supremely lucky in the way the rest of the building had fallen, providing just enough support to give you a tiny open space. But even without the sudden, helpful overlay that detailed out the edges of the debris through the smoke, you could see how quickly that respite was vanishing as the beam's weight bore it inexorably lower and lower.

You found yourself gasping for breath, cast back into that moment. The image changed abruptly. Trying to figure out where you were now viewing from helped to break you free of the encroaching panic attack.

Then it all made sense: you were looking at several officers, so covered in dirt and dust that you couldn't recognize their rank, much less determine their names. They also looked extremely short.

Before you even skimmed over the information feeding out in rapid-fire bursts, you knew that this was John's HUD after Silver Team had arrived back on site.

"John, get here now. The support beam is failing!"

Cortana's voice came through his helmet's comm. "There's no time," he said, interrupting the man as he was saying that they would have to wait for an excavation crew to arrive to safely dig you out.

He was running before the man could object. The feed cut back and forth from his HUD to the holo-emiter. This gave you an unexpected perspective on how efficiently Silver Team worked. They needed almost no words as they homed in on your location, grabbing, lifting, moving and supporting each part of the perilous structure as needed.

It was Vannak who caught the beam before it crushed you but it was John who lifted it off of you.

The holo-emiter's feed abruptly ended and you were back in John's HUD. Vannak and Kai caught another part of the crumbling wreckage, creating an opening for Riz to dig you out by hand.

You noted almost absently how steady John's vitals were. He was holding a building off of you as if it were nothing at all.

"Out," Riz announced and John carefully lowered the weight he'd been supporting.

When he turned, you saw Riz clearing the way for Kai, who was now the one carrying you. Vannak and John followed.

They emerged out of the wreckage and Kai went into the Spartan run, taking you directly into a Pelican where she turned you over to a team of medics. The Spartans were waved back and the ship launched.

"We'll catch the next one," Riz said.

"She'll be all right, Chief," Kai told him. "She's strong."

He nodded curtly, tracking the Pelican that was carrying you away.

And once it went out of sight, that was when his vitals spiked and his heart began to pound.

You were still thinking about what all you'd seen when the door chimed again. A glance at the chrono proved it was lunchtime. You opened the door and, indeed, the first thing you saw was a massive, covered tray that no doubt contained your meal. But it was John who was carrying it.

"Silver's on stand-by," he warned, "but I thought we might get a chance to eat together."

Since you weren't yet cleared to make the long walk down to the Mess, a table and pair of chairs had been set up across from the couch a few days ago. As soon as he'd placed the tray down, you practically tackled him.

"Permission to hug the Master Chief?" you asked well after the fact, your voice muffled into his chest.

He gently returned the embrace. "Always granted."

You found yourself holding onto him a little bit longer than usual.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I saw the footage from the Pit," you said, resting your cheek against him. "I already knew I was lucky to get out of there but really seeing it? I… It makes me appreciate being here."

He paused for long enough that you looked up at him, finding him gazing over your head as if hearing something over a comm. Then he turned his attention back down to you, brow furrowing. "She shouldn't have shown you that footage and upset you."

"Cortana? No, I'm glad she did. It happened to me, after all." You put your face against him again and squeezed him once more around his waist. "You held a building off of me, John."

He made a move as if about to pick you up, then thought better of it and knelt instead to bring you more on a level together. "I'd hold a million buildings off of you, don't you know that?" he said, cupping your face. "Just… try not to be under any more falling buildings, hm?"

"I'll certainly do my best," you swore and kissed his palm.

The look in his eyes altered, grew both darker and softer at the same time. When you leaned towards him, he met you halfway.

He started carefully, like he did everything with you, but soon the kiss intensified, deepened, and his hands skimmed from the crown of your head down your back as if he wanted to map every line, curve and angle you possessed.

And then your stomach growled, loudly and unmistakably, and you muttered your newly-learned curse word.

He leaned back to look at you, amusement tugging insistently at his mouth. "That one's Vannak's favorite. He and Riz talked about coming to see you today. I'm assuming they did?"

"They did," you said, then winced as your stomach grumbled something awfully close to a repeat of the Sangheili curse word.

"Why don't we eat," he said, completely surrendering to the smile, "and you can tell me all about it."

Happily, he didn't get called away and you were able to finish your meal together in peace.

"Could I show you something I recently learned?" he asked as you stood from the table.

"As long as it doesn't involve throwing me around the room," you teased.

"Oh, I'll save that until you're all healed up," he murmured, then winked.

You'd like to think you laughed but no, that was a full-fledged giggle. "So, what did you learn?"

"Therapeutic massage," he said, flexing his fingers. "It's supposed to promote healing and relaxation. Want to give it a try?"

"Absolutely," you said. "Where do you want me at?"

"On the footstool, if that's okay?"

"Sure."

The wide, plush, rainbow-colored bit of furniture was another recent addition to the room, added because John wanted you to have the option to put your feet up. Kai had told you that, as soon as you were healthy again, she was going to high-five you for the color choice.

While his back was turned as he adjusted the stool the way he wanted it in front of the couch, you took your shirt off and tossed it haphazardly towards the bed.

He sat, a leg on either side of the stool, and looked up at you, clearly about to say something. But then his expression went thunderstruck and the words never emerged.

You had the same UNSC sports bra that he had to have seen other marines wearing in the gym a thousand times. You'd spotted Kai and Riz in them before, so it shouldn't have been that shocking.

"This all right?" you asked.

"Uh-huh. Yeah. Yes." Every affirmative had its own completely separate inflection, from stunned to wonderment to Wait, don't put the shirt back on.

You turned away, hiding your grin as you sat down where directed. Considering that you were hardly in top fighting form at the moment, his reaction was a very nice little ego boost.

His hands settled gently against your back, fingers curling over your shoulders. "If I use too much pressure or there's pain, tell me right away. Is there anything I should definitely avoid?"

"Can't raise the arm like I should" –you gave a roll of your left shoulder– "but it's already much better than it was."

"Copy that, no raising the arm. Anything else?"

No matter how battered and bruised you felt, there was no way you were going to miss this. "I'll let you know," you promised.

"Okay," he said and his hands glided up to your neck, then out, following the lines of the trapezius on both sides. The heels of his palms followed your spine down in a feathery touch, then spread out along your lats like he was smoothing wrinkles out of them before skimming down your obliques to your hips.

He returned to your shoulders again and very, very carefully kneaded into the tightness there. You did your best not to flinch when he hit a particularly sore spot but he jerked back as if you'd screamed.

"It's fine," you said quickly, afraid he was about to end up perched on the back of the couch like a very large, traumatized cat. "This is the only way to get rid of it. Just got to work it out."

His hands settled cautiously on your shoulders once more.

"You're doing great," you assured him, patting his knees on either side of you encouragingly, and his thumbs drew circles over the painful places as if he were trying not to fracture a thin sheet of glass.

The knots relaxed and you exhaled in the closest thing to sheer bliss you'd experienced in a long while. The warmth and gentle pressure had you melting back into him, your head lolling a bit, your eyelids fluttering shut and—

The next thing you knew, you were waking up. "Oh come on, I didn't want to sleep through all the good parts," you mumbled.

John's chuckle rumbled beneath your ear. He had pulled you back onto his lap on your right side, cradled comfortably against his chest. One hand was gently rubbing your back while the other covered the hand you had fisted into his shirt.

"I'm going to take this as a compliment to my therapeutic massage skills," he said.

"And you absolutely should." You raised your head to look at him. "Maybe next time I can even stay conscious long enough to really appreciate said skills. If there is, you know, a next time."

"There will most definitely be a next time," he swore and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I still owe you a proper back scratching."

"And I am absolutely going to collect on that," he returned, his tone unexpectedly husky.

You smiled, straightening up to kiss him. He pulled you closer, then paused and sighed against your mouth.

"I've got to go," he said resolutely right before his wristband chirped.

You looked for a way to roll off of him that wouldn't aggravate your shoulder – or potentially crush any of his, ahem, important Spartan equipment – but he scooped you up bridal style and stood as if you weighed nothing at all.

"I'll meet you for dinner if we're back soon enough," he promised and gave you one more tender kiss then placed you onto the couch. Before he went through the door, he paused, looking back like he was memorizing this moment, then he took a breath and was gone.

It was nearly dinner time when the door chime rang and you went to answer it with as much of a hopeful spring in your step as you could manage. However, this time, it wasn't John holding a tray with your evening meal on it.

"Dr. Keyes," you said in surprise, snapping a salute.

She said your rank and last name. "May I come in? We need to talk."

[stitchlingbelle]

Watching Halo, Episode 5

Flashback time! Halsey and Keyes both on Eridanus II. Were they colonists? Stationed there? Why are they at the school? They just saw John, so clearly it’s too early to be school-shopping for Miranda’s sake. God, are they shopping for kids? Was Keyes in on it from the beginning? This school is supposed to be some idyllic Waldorf-style nature school, and I love that, but it is not OSHA-compliant.

Here in the present, they’ve set up a whole temporary base around the second artifact, which seems like an utterly terrible idea to me. Do you need this much crap to dig out one monumental rock and load it up? (I realize real scientists would want to study it in situ for 6000 years before moving on to step 2 and archeologists wouldn’t want to move it at all, but you have unstoppable aliens to deal with in this universe!) Also, was bringing Miranda out here a good idea? It seems contrary to giving her free rein while her mom is gone? I’m glad her dad’s on her side at least. John, you need to snap out of it, buddy.

Kwan and Soren stuck in the desert, bickering, when he handcuffs her and leaves her alone in the middle of the desert? Wtf, Soren?

Poor Miranda making good points and still getting sidelined by her mom and Adun the Creep. Kai is still the smartest person here. What DOES the Covenant want? I appreciate the shot of the little drone. It’s funny to think that those have gone from scifi to a toy people fly in their backyards in my lifetime. John the Master Chief spots Kai’s hair and knows what’s up instantly and is immediately an asshole about it. I adore Kai—she took one look at John removing his and instantly trusted it was a good idea, and more, it’s clear from her less-flat affect in ep1 that she’s always been closest to breaking free (even without a mystical connection to ancient alien tech). And she’s 100% dead on here, too- why the hell is she unfit, but he’s not? And good on Cortana for speaking up for her, too. John: “I can’t hear myself think.” Cortana: “I can and you’re not missing much.” HA.

I haven’t gotten into Makee’s alien politicking much, but it’s definitely interesting how they both seem to need her and yet distrust her at the same time. You raised her! But “corrupted/ going native” is a trope for a reason, I suppose. Or are there two camps of aliens here? Is she really the only being who can activate these things? Were there aliens who could do it but they’ve passed away, or is it a unique human ability? (Well, humans and whatever race created this stuff.) Where did the Covenant get its info about the tech to begin with? How accurate is what they think they know?

Kwan, meanwhile, is demonstrating her best feature—sheer determination. I cheered when she finally got free. But when is she going to go, stranded in the middle of the desert, presumably without supplies? (I mean, I assume she’s about to find the mystics, but that’s the meta-brain talking.)

Craaaaap, John’s confiding in Keyes, who immediately gives him a brush off with his “I’ll look into it personally” bs. Of course he goes straight to Parangosky and Halsey and backstabbing and manipulation ensue. They at least try to protect Miranda from all their dirty laundry, of course in a way calculated to piss her off. “Finally a parenting issue we can agree on”—what did that little jibe mean? It’s getting increasingly hard to picture Halsey as any kind of mother. Exactly what did she want to do with Miranda?

Using a laser on the artifact makes ALL HELL BREAK LOOSE, and then John just stops with a look? Is that what happened? Wtf. And of course the Covenant hear that. Great.

Just as I wonder what Miranda saw in the data, her dad walks in and takes her off the project. She immediately pegs that it’s his own dirty past that’s at stake, though how dirty I doubt she knows. Master Chief, who is at least somewhat less credulous than I gave him credit for, is getting suspicious as well. Aaaand apparently he believes in direct action, because he immediately heads over and touches the artifact. And finds out HALSEY KIDNAPPED HIM? WTF. (Is the plague story a coverup? Did she murder a whole colony to hide this???) Master Chief tries to kill her ass and I was hoping he’d manage it, but no, Cortana steps in. Rats.

A brief break back on Madrigal where Soren finds Kwan gone… and then she EMERGES FROM THE SAND AND TAKES HIM OUT. Go Kwan, that was so much smarter than just wandering the desert, well done!

The rest of the episode is the biggest battle yet. My notes just say “Oh crap OH CRAP” at the top. Seeing the ship crash was fantastic and a definite “You Are Ultra Screwed” moment. I of course laughed at Cortana giving Master Chief advice and him snapping “I know how the game is played, Cortana!” Yes, writers, you’re very cute. I once again question how many Spartans there are and why we only have four here? In this super important not-hardened base that the Covenant is actively looking for? Like, worth 100 marines each, that’s great, but getting separated and pinned down is still a problem! Especially in this area which is wide open with lousy cover!

Which of course is exactly what happens to Kai, which I choose to believe is why she went down, instead of her being overwhelmed by trauma like the Master Chief predicted while he’s just fine, just Heroically Angry. (That bit of writing annoyed me.) (Yes I know he blew it too, he just got to blow it in a way that’s very differently coded than she did.) Halsey gets her one good moment saving Miranda when I 100% expected her to leave her daughter to die. (I did think Miranda would live to be extremely screwed up about it, mind you.)

So the Covenant got away with the new artifact, crap. And they pull the exact same gambit with Makee as last time, and I have the exact same complaint. Human makeup and nice clothes and not a scratch? She does NOT look like she just escaped that ship during the chaos of battle after surviving durance vile! Like, I want a poster of her on my wall but I do NOT trust her.

[authortobenamedlater]

E6! We’re getting toward the end now!

The good:

While it wasn’t exactly the John & Cortana reunion I’d hoped for, WE FINALLY GOT IT and it was still immensely satisfying. John is bloodied and bruised and when he sees Cortana he still SMILES and just looks so much more at ease. Like everything is going to be OK now because Cortana is back.

Cortana did, in fact, sell her digital soul to Parangosky in a way. We don’t know why, but my guess is to get Parangsoky/ONI to spare John. A sad look into how Cortana and John are both looked at as disposable once they’re no longer “useful.”

Pablo Schreiber continues to pull out all the stops. His Captain America elevator scene-style beat-down (his second of this season) on the ONI guards is glorious, as is his fight scene with Kai and his reunion with Cortana. Also, he’s oddly sexy in the black sweatshirt.

Oh yeah, and the way Cortana’s “I’m with the Arbiter” line gets John standing up and growling “the one who killed Vannak?” This is a WAY more personal rivalry than game Chief and Arbiter had and I’m all in on it. Thel led the fleet to Reach, but this Var ‘Gatanai fellow stuck a needler round in Vannak’s chest with John watching.

The scene where Var cuts down his fellow Sangheili instead of Makee reminds me of Kylo Ren turning his lightsaber on Snoke in TLJ. Makee has clearly fallen from grace in the Covenant, but I’m not seeing her joining up with the humans either. At least not entirely. We do see her telling John the Covenant will use the Halo to annihilate mankind in the trailer for next week.

The bad:

I can’t think of anything really bad about this episode? Except that Vannak and Jacob are still dead.

Questions/neutral/speculations:

These Spartan-IIIs are definitely not the IIIs of the main canon, in fact they seem more like IVs. I don’t think they’re even augmented yet. It’s been only a month or so since Reach and Talia is already there training. That’s not enough time to have a bunch of major surgeries and procedures and recover. My guess is they are waiting to see who will wash out before doing any augmentations.

If they’ve got a bunch of consenting adults to be IIIs, why did ONI take Kessler? They wouldn’t need to recruit children if they can do the same thing (somewhat) more ethically on adults. Unless they took Kessler for reasons entirely unrelated to making more Spartans.

I still want to know why Cortana struck a deal with Parangosky. I’m really starting to think that opening scene was not much to do with untangling John and Cortana and more to do with Parangosky/ONI getting Cortana to do their bidding.

Will Kai see the end of the season? The show has taken John’s team from him one by one. It doesn’t make sense to pull her to train the IIIs and then kill her. Who would take her place? Are they going to kill all the IIIs? Again, why? We just met them and they’re supposed to be the next generation of Spartans “in [the Master Chief’s] image.” Not missing the Genesis allusion there, Ackerson.

In next week’s trailer Parangosky says she is willing to sacrifice all the Spartan-IIIs. Maybe they will all die. This show does love to ride the ragged edge.

What is the “mistake” Miranda found in her mother’s research?

Are Var, Makee, John, and Cortana all going to go rogue together?

But, Kai IS in the Kurt role and he doesn’t see the end of Ghosts of Onyx. Shoulda worn the Mjolnir, buddy. Maybe Kai will learn that lesson.

Kate Kennedy would do a 10/10 job delivering the “Die? Didn’t you know? Spartans never die” line. I really hope I don’t have to hear it.

[alienisticxo]

Before the Fever - Chapter Eleven

{Master Chief x Reader series - TV based}

{A╱N} okay, so a scene here was the scene that inspired this entire series! i actually had that written out before i even began to write the series 🥲

i was listening to a slowed version of a song, and imagined that little scene taking place to it because I'm hopelessly in love with MC. i’ve added a link within the fic of where to start the song if you’d like to listen to it while you read it! (it's bolded and underlined!) but if not, i still hope you enjoy and put it to any song you'd like!

getting to the romance part has been so much fun and i cannot thank you guys enough for really sticking around and showing my lil fic this much love between ao3 & here. also, sorry i kept thinking i was getting to real romance and then just weaving more story instead up to this point lol.

{gifs by thraxusboorman}

enjoy & thank you as always ♡

Chapter Eleven - Before the Fever

Silence hung in the air as both The Master Chief and myself stared after Kai-125, our eyes glued to the door as though she might come barreling back through it to stay on the run with us. When it was safe to say she wasn’t returning, I finally spoke up.

“How long are we staying here?” I posed in the quiet, glancing down at the clothes in my hands.

“Not long,” John huffed, setting the briefcase on the table in front of the couch. “Cortana, what information did Halsey manage to gather on this thing?”

“Mm..” She calculated for a few seconds, undoubtedly accessing files. “Not much. She only knows what she and Miranda have collected from you both directly. According to the blood samples, you share some facet of DNA with {Y/N}.”

We both immediately faced her, a snap reaction to the news. My face twisted into a slight cringe. I couldn’t see his countenance, but I was sure it held a similar expression.

“You’re not related. No, that would be weird,” she laughed.

It was easy to notice how we both eased up at once, but neither of us laughed along with her.

“It seems to be some part of your biochemistry, potentially the reason both of you harbor the ability to mentally transcend to the Halo via contact with The Keystone. This trait.. It’s extremely rare. One in millions. She was of course searching for its provenance and functionality, along with the reasoning behind why {Y/N} arrives there so effortlessly when you seem to struggle.. But that was.. interrupted.”

“How did we manage to find each other?” He simply asked her. “Doesn’t that seem… strange?”

“I can only offer the mathematical equation.”

She parted her lips to speak again, but then quickly closed them.

“That was rhetorical wasn’t it?” She asked. “You’re not actually looking for the odds.”

He gave her a knowing look before his eyes caught the briefcase on the table again. I wanted to ask about the woman on The Covenant ship, though no one believed that she existed. She knew about The Keystones, she knew where they took her and how. That was another element to this entire situation. If the DNA was one in millions…

“I’m going to clean up,” I voiced softly instead, pointing behind myself before turning to find the bathroom.

I needed to get settled before I delved into any of this information. But as usual when they spoke to each other, they were unfazed by anything I said.

“We have to move, get to Eridanus..” John spoke, seeming to cut himself off.

“Chief, I know the plan was to get in and get out, but I do believe now that you have the Keystone, it would be wise to stay. At least until morning. They’ll be searching everywhere they believe you might turn up— Eridanus II included,” Cortana stated. “If enough time passes within both here and Reach, chances are they’ll have already searched the area.”

He hesitated, and I slowed my trek to the shower, trying to figure out which set of clothing to redress in if he did decide to listen to her.

“You’re right,” he finally rasped under his breath, but he didn’t seem too thrilled with the idea. “We’ll stay. Just until morning. We can’t waste time here. I have a plan.”

There was the rest of his previous statement– There was a new reason to get to Eridanus now. After a few seconds more, I heard Cortana sigh, seeming leery of whatever intel she suddenly had.  

“John…” she voiced.

But by the time she could continue on, I found myself behind the bathroom’s closed door, staring at the same stunning view of the galaxy through its own window. If there were lights to be switched on, I didn’t need them with the natural light of the stars, moons and suns that it offered.

There was a large tub just in front of the window, a shower stall in the corner. While the room itself wasn’t that large, between the decor and the lavishness of it all, it was luxe enough that I wasn’t sure if I should have actually taken Laela’s offer to clean up. It made me wonder how many people they’d surely ripped off in order to garner so much wealth. I’d heard of Soren in the streets, an ex-Spartan gone rogue. While I’d never met him, he’d garnered much respect throughout Rubble, especially amongst pirates.

Setting the folded pile down on the counter, I stared for just a few moments more. I finally had some time alone, and maybe given the circumstances, that should’ve scared me. But I still felt safer than I had in the last hiding place I’d found. That was probably because I was now on the same side as the Spartan, as opposed to resisting him and all he stood for.

Filling my lungs with as much air as possible, I held my breath and counted to five before exhaling again slowly.

What a mess I’ve gotten myself into.

After a beat, I began to undress, eyes still glued on the twinkling stars ahead. Once my drabby clothes were in a pile at my feet, I dared look in the floor length mirror beside me. I was covered in bruises, more than I had expected.

It was no longer just Doctor Halsey’s experimentation that I focused on. Bruises from being kidnapped and held captive on The Covenant ship still remained. I hadn’t taken a good look at myself since I’d been rescued, too withdrawn to do anything other than go through the motions. I wondered how horrific they must’ve looked when they were fresh.

My eyes trailed from my feet, up to my waist, and then to the small, dainty pendant I wore around my neck. I’d almost forgotten it was there, hidden under my shirt, just barely passing my clavicle. It was a gift from my mother when I was still a child; the only thing I had left of her aside of the blood in my veins and maybe the shape of my eyes, if I remembered correctly. My fingers grazed the silver crescent moon lightly as it caught the starlight. I was suddenly extremely glad I hadn’t lost it in all the chaos that surrounded me lately.

————

“It’s the only way,” I stated, hoping to leave Cortana no room for argument.

“It’s a suicide mission. You can’t do that.”

Still too much room.

“I can. I will.”

“Bringing The Covenant to Eridanus is not going to pan out the way you think it will.”

“It’s a dead planet, Cortana. No one else will get hurt in the process. No more losses to be had. If we have any chance at retrieving the second Keystone, finding out what the hell they’re meant to do.. it’s this way.”

“No one else— just you,” she retorted, not even beginning to touch the rest of my statement.

“If they’re after the Keystones, they must be involved with something greater than what they seem. The Halo has to be something meaningful to them. We have to figure out what they really do. Not just for me, not just for {Y/N}. At this point, for the sake of humanity, too. This is the only way.”

That was the real mission beneath it all. While the programming they’d done to me hadn’t been holding up, the objective was still clear.

“And you’re going to bring it back to Doctor Halsey? After everything that’s happened?” she asked, full of derision.

I knew I’d made her decide who she was loyal to, and that ended up being myself over Halsey, but now wasn’t the time to exercise that.

“Not Halsey, no. But I’m sure Keyes and her team can piece together what’s needed. She’s extremely capable. More trustworthy than her mother.”

“Well, she’s been burnt by her just as badly in a whole other way.”

“Imagine that,” I mused flatly, staring at the briefcase on the table.

Cortana was silent. I was silent. It was then that I noticed {Y/N} was gone, slight panic gripping me before my recollection of her leaving filled my head again. Looking back at Cortana for a few more seconds, I crossed the room and finally began to shed the layers of my Mjolnir.

I was stuck here for the night.

“Chief,” the A.I. began, the seriousness in her tone returning. “I was designed to take full operational control of you to optimize both your physical and mental performance. To become the ultimate soldier Doctor Halsey wanted to create to win the war— and beyond. To strike fear into any enemy. Now that it’s something I don’t want, I’m worried for you. This is an extremely high risk mission, one I’m not sure you can complete without the rest of Silver Team.”

“I can’t drag them into this more than I already have. We’re a team, but this is personal. They deserve to know what happened to us. But they don’t deserve the backlash of whatever this initiates.”

Her frown was evident as she took another step closer to me.

“I have the utmost faith in you, John,” her voice was soft, emphatic. “You know that, right? I wouldn’t have chosen you over her if I didn’t. My trust in you is implicit.”

I glanced over at Cortana while I continued to set pieces of my armor down, the undersuit I wore feeling like a heavy second skin in the casual setting we found ourselves in. Holding her gaze, allowing the smallest ounce of vulnerability I despised showing to dimly shine through, I nodded once.

It was hard to believe, some days. She had a stubborn and sarcastic streak, not unlike her creator. But deep down, I felt just as connected with her as I may have with a human, if connection were in my repertoire. Cortana lived in my head 24/7; a neural implant like no other, and though we had our ups and downs, though I’d tested her and god knows she tested me, I knew over anything else that I could rely on her.

She’d proven that to me time and time again without much in return.

“But there’ll be one of you.. And more than likely hundreds of them,” she continued. “I know you’re The Master Chief, the hero among us all, but.. even with your augmentations, you’re only human.”

Her features were full of anxiety. Smart A.I.’s really did seem to feel. I wondered about her sometimes. It made me question my own ideals on the matter. What was scientific and factual seemed more like made-up guidelines, the more time I spent with her.

“You were outnumbered on Rubble before in a surprise attack, taking immense damage in battle without the rest of Silver Team for backup.”

“I was there,” I said gruffly, not wanting to recall that {Y/N} contributed to that as well before Cortana spoke up again.

“All it took after that was a Gravity Hammer to have your HUD screaming at me. Repairing the damage in such a short amount of time without losing you altogether was complex, and…”

Was she… about to cry? Could an A.I. system do that? She sounded overcome with pure emotion.

“Terrifying,” she exhaled.

“I thought you didn’t do sentimental,” was all I could say, completely thrown by what was happening here.

“Chief, I don’t want to control you; replace you. The more I saw what was going on with Doctor Halsey.. the more I got to know you and see your humanity— the thing that makes you so unique.. the less I wanted it. My directive was to do just that, especially in the case of losing you. It’s not that I’m not able to achieve what I was designed to do, not at all. It’s that I don’t want to. I don’t want to have to. We can’t lose The Master Chief. We’d be lost without you and all that you already are on your own. I don’t think that’s something Catherine accounted for.”

My head spun. I was suddenly glad I went with her decision to stay the night on Rubble to gain some clarity for what was ahead. She wasn’t designed for sentimentality, for feelings in general— that seemed to be something Halsey loved taking from anyone and anything she could.

But this was sure as hell something.

I saw Cortana in a different light then.

Unable to take my eyes off of her as I tried to grasp what I was able to, I realized she was more human than she let on. More human than I felt, most days. This felt like a surprise attack all on its own, though I know she didn’t mean it to be. Years worth of brainwashing told me not to believe a single thing she told me. In a matter of moments, she somehow unraveled that.

What was going on?

“Cortana…” I began, wanting to piece my now scattered thoughts together in a decent response for her.

But before I could start, she disappeared again without so much as a breath in my auditory cortex.

“Cortana?” I asked quietly, unsure of what had just happened.

Silence.

That worried me more than it should have, until I turned around.

————

“Maybe she’s tired,” I offered gently, running my hand back through my hair.

Of course I had no idea what the real reason for her sudden absence was, but it sounded like it could be true. I didn’t want to intervene on yet another private moment between the two, and so I tried to change the subject.

“What is she exactly, anyway?” I finally posed. “I know she said she was a form of artificial intelligence… But.. she seems so.. real.”

The Master Chief simply stared at me, setting down a final piece of the armor he’d been taking off while I was showering, leaving him in nothing but the black undersuit he typically wore back on Reach— the less menacing ensemble. The one that allowed me to see him as a man, not a machine.

“Smart A.I.,” was all he said, lifting his chin just a bit. “Halsey’s. Well.. She was.”

I thought about it for a moment, but it only seemed to kick up more questions. I wasn't savvy in the ways of such advanced tech, but I supposed a 'smart A.I.’ was different from an average one. Walking around the couch and trying to focus on what I was trying to say, I tugged the sash to the black, intricately designed robe I now wore just a bit tighter.

What was underneath was enough to make anyone who wasn’t used to wearing such articles blush. It wasn’t until I slipped it on that I realized it was a {F/C} night dress, with thin straps for ‘sleeves’ and coming just down to about mid-thigh. I frantically searched for any indication of pants, but there were none to be had other than a pair of underwear that seemed to match.

Even the outfit “for the next destination” contained a slick, thin material of black pants and a top I wasn’t sure was going to cover enough skin. I wasn’t used to wearing something so.. elegant, or sensual— to sleep in, especially. But one look at Laela told me that was the norm for her no matter who was around.

I was thoroughly embarrassed just wearing it. Let alone around John. But it was comfortable, the robe was soft; and it did feel good to not be as drab as I hadn’t realized I looked or felt.

“Where does she.. come from?” I finally asked, sitting in a plush chair next to the couch and instinctively rearranging the robe to cover my legs and as much of myself as possible.

“She’s in my head,” he stated, his eyes trailing over me with what looked like curiosity of his own.

He said that as though he knew I wasn’t going to believe it, and in any other situation, I might not have. But after everything we’d been through, I felt like that was the only logical explanation.

“Your head? So she just manifests whenever she wants to? Or do you summon her?”

It seemed like he was waiting for her to appear at any moment. When she didn’t, he sighed and stepped closer toward me.

“It’s both. She likes to show up unannounced a lot of the time. Sometimes I tell her to leave me alone. But when I need her, she’s always there.”

“That’s kind of nice,” I smiled. “Like a built-in companion. A friend.”

He stood for a few seconds, seeming to contemplate what I’d said before easing down onto the couch just beside my chair.

“She’s not built for friendship. Or companionship. She’s a tool to be implemented.”

But something told me he didn’t believe that one bit.

“Do you trust her?” I asked, my tone airy, holding a slight smugness to it.

He stared out of the large window, not looking at anything in particular to my knowledge, but I could tell he was pondering over my question.

“I do,” he finally said.

“Then she’s a friend,” I nodded once.

“Do you trust me?”

His eyes caught mine then, throwing me off-guard all over again.

I immediately reached up for the pendant around my neck, fidgeting with it absently. I’d told him I trusted him on The Condor. He knew I trusted him. There was no denying it any longer. Was he just making sure?

“I do.”

“Are we friends?”

I blinked a few times, eyes drifting around the room. What was the correct response here?

The truth, I supposed.

“I.. hope so.”

It was then that I realized I caught him off-guard with my response, too.

“A.I. doesn’t feel,” he pointed out instead, steering clear of the subject as he looked back through the crystal clear glass. “They don’t have the same traits as humans. They learn, but they never really feel things the same way we do. She isn’t real.”

But something seemed to be nagging at him as he said it. As though he was trying to convince himself of that little tidbit rather than me.

“She seems pretty real to me,” I expressed quietly. “Speaking of what’s human and what isn’t..  I never asked. What’s it like? Being a Spartan?”

I pressed a smile. I could see he was worn down. I didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. We were hunkering down here for the night and there was no reason to make it uncomfortable or stale. If there was a time to pick his brain, it would be now.

John turned to face me completely then, a faint smirk on his lips that drove me right into insanity inside. I had to remind myself to breathe.

“What’s it like being human?” He responded.

A small, curt laugh escaped me. Probably the first laugh I’d had since I’d left Rubble the first time.

“You’re human, John,” I assured him. “There’s no doubt about that. I don’t care what they’ve done to you. I can see it, underneath all that armor and suppressed emotion.”

Maybe it was the hour, the lack of sleep, the astronomical amount of stress, or just the fact that we were in a safe, comfortable space for once; but I felt more compelled than ever to be open with The Master Chief. To be honest with him. To comfort him the way I’d intended.

“I wonder sometimes.”

“Don’t you do human things at all? Even just the little things?”

“We eat, sleep. Sure.”

I chewed on my lower lip for a moment, my line of sight moving to the stereo system Laela had mentioned earlier. I looked over the selection on the holographic screen absentmindedly, trying to trudge through the mass amount of questions on my mind in order to find any of the important ones instead.

“How long have you really been without the pellet Cortana mentioned?”

“She was right. Not very long.”

“When did they…” I trailed off, not wanting to upset or offend him.

“For as long as I can remember. Since I was a kid.”

“So.. you haven’t really experienced things without it? Like, the way the sun feels on your skin after a string of rainy days, or a really good book.”

His expression hardened a bit as he leaned forward on his elbows, shaking his head.

“I don’t have much time to read, if you can believe that,” he joked.

Another soft laugh escaped me. Has he really joked with me before?

“And here I thought you guys were just lounging around by a pool all day waiting for another mission.”

John breathed the faintest of laughs, and I couldn’t help but smile myself. I suddenly wanted to do nothing but try to make him laugh. It was something terribly beautiful that I wondered if he even knew he was capable of once I thought about his situation.

But I continued to think, letting it sink in that he hadn’t experienced much on a deeper level. It was then that I immediately turned and reached for the stereo between us, leaning over the arm of my chair.

“You know what..”

I navigated through the screen, searching for any song I recognized. Music was different among different planets, and I wasn’t sure I’d find anything at all.

He looked at me quizzically, and I peeked over at him and smiled again before continuing my search.

“Ah!” I finally gasped, coming across a title I recognized very well and gearing it up.

“Music has got to be one of my favorite things ever,” I mentioned.

He sat up straight again, and I could see the interest in his features.

“This is a song from my home planet,” I began. “One of my favorites, actually.”

My voice was quiet, my line of sight following his once more to the view through the window. I still wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anything more striking, except maybe the way John looked as he contemplated the sprawling galaxy before us.

His profile was still and illuminated in a purple and blue hue from the cosmic clusters just beyond us, his eyes glossed over from the exhaustion and no doubt the newfound overwhelm of emotion. He was riddled with knicks and scars, some apparent and some hiding behind his stubble. But nonetheless, he was stunning. A god among men. It became so clear to me so quickly and all at once that I had to take a deeper breath, steady my head from spinning and pull my focus from burning through him.

Dragging my eyes off of his face, I looked back to the stereo and swallowed thickly, delicate fingers moving through the air that was the screen.

“I can’t remember the last time I listened to music.. We’re not very creatively oriented at the UNSC.”

A soft laugh escaped me again as I shook my head and started the song, turning to face him again, not filtering or dismissing my feelings this time.

Another joke. Maybe he was warming up to me after all.

“I couldn’t have guessed,” I smiled.

But when I watched him this time, I could see the millions of thoughts running across his mind as he continued to stare out over what felt like the entire universe.

He was absorbing the music as it played, dramatic and reverberated. He was feeling every note, every bend. I almost wished I could experience life with such a fresh set of eyes. On bated breath, I watched him intently, studying him. With slight hesitation, I dared bring him out of his trance as gently as possible.

“… Do you like it?” I found myself whispering just loud enough for him to hear against the music.

My tone was intense, as though the world depended on his opinion.

My world did.

“It’s beautiful,” he responded, slowly turning his head to look at me.

My existence caught fire. The song shifted, slowed down. It was almost unbearable, how strongly all I wanted to do was enjoy the moment with him. To be part of a beautiful memory that he would have forever. With another small smile, I stood up and held out my hand to him.

John looked at it, brow furrowing slightly. It wasn’t hard to see that he had reservations about my subtle invitation. He had barely heard music, and it probably felt as though asking him to dance was more intimidating than following an order to head straight into battle without a plan.

Or giving a hug, apparently.

Trying to lighten his trepidation, I held his stare.

“C’mon.. I know The Master Chief isn’t scared of a little dance.”

“I don’t dance,” he responded curtly.

“Correction. You didn’t dance.”

With that, I leaned down and took his hands into mine. I attempted to pull him up the best I could, but I knew the large Spartan must’ve been humoring me by standing all on his own. Without skipping a beat, I lead him in a dance with my own small amount of knowledge in the medium.

There was no need for a step counted, know-who-leads dance. I just wanted to spend the time, let him feel the music, and feel it as vicariously as I could.

Swaying gently, I quickly forgot about my reservation in the clothing I wore. I stepped up closer to John, guiding one of his hands to the small of my back as I did the best I could to rest mine behind his broad shoulder, too short to latch my entire arm behind his neck.

I held his other hand in mine, the closeness to another human, no matter how un-human he seemed sometimes, something entirely too foreign to me. It was almost terrifying. If I hadn’t wanted it with him so badly, allowed myself to feel the massive amount of feelings I had toward him now with no holds barred, I would’ve run in the other direction.

Though I wasn’t exactly sure of his standing with me, the fact that he didn’t oppose any of my actions clued me in. In that way, I could only imagine how he felt.

“It’s not as complicated as I was expecting,” he offered, looking down into my eyes, closer than he had ever been to me before in such an intimate way.

“That’s a good sign,” I assured gently, feeling something akin to an excited nervousness. “You’re comfortable.”

We danced a bit longer, the slow rhythm of the music leading the way. It was suddenly far too easy to get caught up in the moment, and I could tell he must’ve been in the same mentality when he held me out before lifting his arm to spin me around.

I was so wrapped up in him, the gesture hardly shocked me. It only felt.. natural. Right.

I imagined we looked like a portrait against the view behind us as I spun once more, being led back into his arms with a slight sense of urgency that wasn’t there before. We danced along the room slowly, no more words between us, just the emotion of the music holding us captive within each other.

And as we spun and crossed the floor in the sparkling light of the vastness around us, for the moment, I forgot about Doctor Halsey. I forgot about Cortana. There were no orders being held over John’s head, and there was no Keystone or Halo to discover. No parents, no Covenant, no Blessed One, no other Spartans. There was no one trying to keep us apart. It was simply John and I.

John and {Y/N}.

Selfishly, I wanted it to last forever. It wasn’t until our eyes finally met again, that I could tell within the depths of my soul that he wanted the same. But to live a normal life seemed not in the cards for him. It wasn’t something I’d ever ask of him, either.

To think so far ahead after a minute or two of dancing together felt odd to me. I didn’t understand the impulse I was feeding into emotionally; the connection and willingness to be connected we suddenly shared so openly and unequivocally with each other. We’d gone from lukewarm to burning hot in a matter of a few musical notes.

But the way the music drifted in and out, creating the atmosphere we were so gladly stuck in, seemed to heighten the moment. The warmth of his large frame against mine was something I suddenly never wanted to lose, or forget, having only ever felt the warmth of his hands through my clothing before thanks to the armor he wore. Every second of our new encounter was being committed to memory.

Saved for eternity.

How could I ever forget the way his hands felt in mine? The way his lips seemed to curve upward ever so slightly as I spun beneath him. How, no matter how far away we traveled from each other in our dance to swing out slowly, we were still always touching in one way or another, connected, eager to return home.

Home.

It struck me then.

John felt like home.

Whatever that was, whatever I’d imagined it to be, it was all right here. Not with Astra, picking pockets. Not on Niacadus, wishing my parents would return. It was with The Spartan I’d once so stupidly felt so much hatred and disdain for.

My eyes never left his own once that realization struck. The moment was powerful, holding more passion than I’d experienced in a lifetime; the music lending more of the sensation to the situation. The song slowed down even more, and as it did so, I felt myself begin to dip backwards, John’s arms holding me, strong and safe— capable. Our gazes were locked on one another’s, simply feeling, feeling everything, all at once, new and otherwise.

My gentle hand finally found his neck as his face drew closer to mine. There was no turning back from this point. I knew it, I knew it in my mind and in my heart as it fluttered with excitement behind my ribcage. I knew it in my bones and the depths of my soul.

I wondered what he was thinking, deeply wished I could read his mind.

Slowly, carefully, my fingers grazed around the back of his neck, encouraging him to come closer, to stay closer. His skin was warm, my fingertips sending signals throughout my body as my other hand held him behind his shoulder once more. My breath hitched in my chest with every inch he closed between us.

I felt his grip tighten just slightly against my frame as though he too felt the gravity of the situation. As though he too knew how this one little gesture would seal our fate; close the space and time between us forever, irrevocably so.

His handsome features were so beautifully unbearable in such close proximity, that my eyes began to close, lips parted just so.. ready, waiting, for his acceptance of my final invitation to lay everything bare to each other—

Once, and for all…

-x-x-x-

Tags: @grimistangel​, @guiltgoldglory​ ♡

[bloodgulchblog]

@godmybackhurts-deactivated202302

It isn't quite the galaxy not being in danger, but it's the best I could do.

Chief takes a nap.

----------

The Spartans had returned to the Gettysburg’s machine shop, and were resting. It was a secure and well-armored position, and the presence of equipment adequate for armor work was a definite perk.

Admiral Whitcomb had ordered them to take six hours sleep each before the assault on the Unyielding Hierophant, and while that had been adequate to keep them on their feet and steady, it was very very little after everything at Reach.

And on Halo.

...If the one of their number who’d been on Halo had bothered to sleep when ordered, anyway.

The Master Chief knew, logically, that he needed to rest. He could have, too. Sacking out under any circumstance was a vital skill every soldier learned in boot, stealing scraps of precious sleep wherever they might be still for a few minutes. It wasn’t that John couldn’t shut himself down. He was resting on the deck, the other Spartans all having found their own places to stretch out just the same. Their presence, the gentle rise and fall of their breastplates and the soft glow of their resting vital signs, were reassuring. Soothing, even.

John just had too much to think about.

“Chief?”

He didn’t startle at Cortana’s voice in his ear. The Chief didn’t even raise his head. His reply was a mute flicker of his acknowledgment signal over the comm.

“You’re still awake?”

He repeated the signal.

“Come on, Chief. We can use words. I’ll even start: You didn’t follow Whitcomb’s orders.”

John breathed out a little, not quite enough to call it a sigh. The sentiment, however, was there.

“Doesn’t matter now,” he said.

Wasn’t like Whitcomb would ever know.

“You need some sleep. I’m reading your monitors, and Chief? They’re not saying anything good.”

She was quieter, this time. John knew her by now: confident, bold, ferociously intelligent and effortlessly aware of how she could apply it.

This was a change in tactics.

“Busy thinking,” he admitted.

“What about?”

“All of it.”

She didn’t have to pause. Cortana thought so much more quickly than he did, lived so much more quickly than he did. Her silence was something she gave him, a conscious choice. A gift.

But it was also a mirror.

And a question.

He did sigh, this time.

“Kelly. Halsey,” said the Chief.

“I don’t know where she took her, Chief.” She sounded apologetic.

“I know.” Not a snap, a reassurance. John found himself tilting his helmet to find the security camera, picking it out in the dim corner of the machine shop. “If you knew, I know you would tell me.”

“You trust me, huh?”

It was a joke, a little bit of play sliding back into her tone.

John was not joking at all when he said, “Haven’t been wrong to yet.”

He owed her. They all did. Even now, the only reason the whole team had settled like this was the knowledge that Cortana was safeguarding them on their voyage through slipspace.

Cortana and Johnson, wherever he was. The Chief had left Johnson to his own affairs. It wasn’t a Spartan’s business to tell an old ODST how to square up with everything that had just happened.

“Let’s hope that stays true.”

Ah.

He wasn’t the only one with something to worry about, was he? She'd even mentioned it.

“Still thinking about what happened to your copy?” he asked Cortana. The copy. The choices it made, replicating to the point of recklessness in the Unyielding Hierophant's systems. It had worked out in Blue Team's favor, but when they'd returned? She'd been troubled to hear about it.

She chuckled softly, humorlessly. “What do you think?”

John didn’t know how you helped an AI stop thinking. That was what they did, an entire existence of thought.

But he did know something he might try for a friend.

“If I stop, will you stop?”

She affected a politely human pause to consider the offer.

“Can you keep up your end of that?” she nudged.

“Promise I’ll try.”

“But are you going to keep it?”

“Keep working with me. You’ll find out I keep my promises.”

It occurred to John that he would like that, continuing to work with Cortana. If he had the choice. If they lived long enough.

“Okay, Master Chief,” she said. “You have yourself a deal. It’s a short jump, but we’ve still got a long ride to go. Get to it, Spartan.”

He breathed in and out a cycle, long and deep and slow.

“Aye aye.”

[halofcrged]

@rubiesintherough mahia sent a meme.

send me   ‘ imprisoned ‘   for your muse to find mine locked up in a cage or cell

Chasing pirates didn't typically fall under Spartan purview - there were much bigger fish to fry with the Covenant's constant push further and further into UNSC territories but John had felt compelled to take a special interest in this particular ship after they'd decided their best option was to open fire on his Prowler when all he'd been wanting to do was make his jump to slipstream and return to the fleet. His initial reaction had been to simply blast them out of the sky, but he'd held his hand, opting for a few carefully placed shots that Cortana had emitted to cripple it. If they'd been desperate enough to fire on a UNSC ship than just flee, or hide, it had made him think there might be a particular reason for it. Stolen UNSC goods, perhaps, had been his first thought, but what he had found instead left him somewhat baffled -- which wasn't a common occurrence.

The firefight had been relatively brief. Their weapons and piece meal armor had stood no chance against his MJOLNIR armor. He'd left a few of them alive and trussed up in case he needed to question any of them about what they were carrying or where they were heading before their chance encounter. He was beginning to regret that. Fortunately, it wouldn't be a difficult mistake to correct.

The figure that huddled in the corner of the cell was ... unique. He couldn't make out much of her features, only a slender, petite form that huddled beneath the dark, trembling wings as an attempt to shield her from harm. One swift tug against the bars of the cell crumpled the lock and swung the door open as he analyzed what information his suit could offer him on his heads up display of the figure. Sporadic, weak life signs. Seemingly human.

He hesitated only briefly before reaching up to detach his helmet from the rest of his armor, bending down to one knee at the entrance to the cage - it was the best that he could do to make himself seem less ominous. "Master Chief John 117, of the UNSC, ma'am, I'm here to help."

[lpmurphy]

Spring in Tchakova Park

Read on AO3

Master List

Chapter Playlist

Summary: Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice. (Complete 5/7/24)

Chapter Six: Gold Visor, Hazel Eyes

Violet clutched her mug in one hand, tapping at her pad with the other at her desk in her small office. Lorelei had sent over her findings regarding the colony of bacteria found in the damaged Karpos sample when she arrived at the labs that morning; a gammaproteobacteria strain she had seen what felt like a thousand times before in samples collected in marine rainforests.

She zoomed in on Lorelei’s handwritten notes, squinting as she attempted to determine if she was looking at an ‘m’ or a ‘rn’ in one of the collections of chicken-scratch Lorelei passed off as penmanship. She sighed, flicking the file to the side and sipping from her mug. Her first task of the morning had been setting up the coffee maker she had purchased for her office, unwilling to force down another vile cup from the mess. She was working on her third cup in as many hours since she arrived, yawning as she added yet another pod of creamer into the already lightly colored coffee.

She was certain she would need the constant stream of caffeine to get her through the day after the previous night. She had woken up with a dull headache from the wine, having finished the bottle after John left, her thoughts reeling from the moment they had shared on the couch. She had spent the night playing it over in her mind as she laid awake in bed, head spinning pleasantly, the ghost of his hand still on her face.

Violet had given  Sadie a long, stern talking to after closing the door. Sadie just stared up at her, ears twitching and tongue hanging out of her mouth as she stared up at her owner. She smacked a paw against her empty food dish when Violet had finished, sending the metal bowl clanging against the kitchen floor in demand for a second dinner. Violet’s search history as she laid in bed that night included topics such as ‘how to crate train dog’ and ‘dog kennels for sale near me’, the snoring pup earning several long, angry looks from Violet as the dog slept on her back, peacefully unaware of the massive cockblock she had been only a few hours earlier.

Violet checked her schedule as she sipped her coffee, determining if she had the time to squeeze in an extra long walk for the pup before John returned to her apartment that evening. Excitement fluttered in her chest at the thought of him returning to her place. Violet chastised herself for feeling like a teenager with a crush. You are thirty years old, damn it, she reminded herself, fucking act like it. But her head had spun since he had left her apartment, the same spin following her into the next morning as she walked Sadie, dressed for work, and still spun as she rode the train to FLEETCOM.

He had nearly kissed her. He might have if it hadn’t been for her dumb fucking dog. And she would have let him. She couldn’t help but feel ridiculous.  He was Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, after all. The poster boy of the UNSC. The best of them. A god amongst men, as Lorelei had put it. There was no reason that he should have an interest in her. But she hadn’t seen that in him. She just saw John as he sat on her couch with her, his hand on her face. The same John that had sent her a message shortly after she got up for Sadie’s walk to wish her a good morning and let her know that he was looking forward to seeing her. She couldn’t help but like that John.

She returned her attention to her pad, occupying her mind with clearing out her communications inbox. She read through a report from the biochemistry department regarding updates in their development of the pain management compound being tested with the venom of the carnivorous plant in The Jungle the horticulturists had named Audrey. She let out an annoyed sigh as she made note of their request for more venom samples from Audrey, wondering where she had left her pair of leather gloves that had been issued to her for interactions with the rather feisty carnifloria vorax. The beep of the PA system sounded, Violet half listening until a familiar call came through the speakers.

“Brokkr teams to your stations for mounting. Brokkr teams to your-.”

Her pad chimed as the call came through the PA system, John’s message confirming the sinking feeling in her stomach that had come with the announcement;

117: Have to cancel on dinner tonight. They’re sending us out. 

Violet Harris:  I heard. I understand- Any idea when you’ll be back?

117: Classified.

117: Sorry. I was looking forward to it. 

Violet Harris: Don’t be! We can do it when you’re back. :-) Just focus on coming home in one piece, okay? 

117: Always do, goose.

Violet Harris: Promise?

117: Promise.

117: I have to go. 

117: :-)

Violet Harris: Be safe, big guy. See you soon.

--

She didn’t hear from him after that. She didn’t hear from him for days.

Her work days passed by slowly in a stream of endless reports, lab visits, and trips to the greenhouses. Those trips filled her with a silent solace as she walked through rows of lush green, occupying her hands and mind inside pots of soil. Each PA call prinkled the hairs on the back of her neck, Violet straightening to listen to each with an intrigue she hadn’t demonstrated over the past two months. The call she hoped for didn’t come. She would deflate and return to her work, pushing aside the ache in her belly until the next call came and John came racing back into her mind. Frankly, she thought of little else. By the third day he was gone, she had bitten her nails down to the quick, the nail beds of her thumbs bloodied and scabbed from near constant picking as she worked at her desk.

The rain relented to the early summer heat and sunshine that warmed her cheeks during Sadie’s walks in the days. Violet threw herself into a state of manic productivity the first few nights, hoping that constant movement and the satisfaction of completed tasks would chase away that sick feeling that sat heavy inside of her. The first night, she finished the book she had meant to start several months prior. She read through the night, finding herself only more exhausted in the morning. The second night brought the next book in the series. She busied herself with unpacking the last few boxes from her move back, filling her time after Sadie’s walks with endless tasks to distract herself from the worry that had taken root in her, rotting in her belly as the days went on. 

She found herself thinking of him constantly. On the fourth night of his absence, she had gone out after work to the shopping center a few blocks from the park, out of tasks to complete in her home and legs aching from the extra time she had added to her runs. She had wandered through the few shops, perusing the collections of summer dresses that had been put out once the sunshine had returned. She was stopped in her tracks on the way home by the image of familiar green armor on a poster beside the restaurant she had picked up dinner from. Her shopping bags dangled loosely in her hand as she stared up at the recognizable gold visor that hid his brown-green eyes. Behind her, pedestrians continued to pass, talking and chatting happily behind her, their voices muffled. She continued to stare up at the poster, her dim sum dinner growing cold in the paper bag she held. It twisted something in her; worry and anxiety and concern. Not for Master Chief, but for the man within the armor. She knew the Spartan was damn well capable of completing the job, his lethality akin to mythology. But she stood there, staring up at the poster, allowing her thoughts to return to John. Wherever he was, she hoped he was safe and unharmed. 

On the fifth night, she sat on her balcony with her book on her lap. Sadie laid stretched out on a warm spot on the floor, the late evening sunshine warming her fur. The evenings grew lighter as the days went on, the sunset casting its pinky glow across the park below her. Musicians returned to the amphitheater as the weather turned, Violet listening to the folky sounds of an acoustic guitar playing covers of songs she liked. She turned the page, adjusting the jacket she had thrown over her legs in the chill of the shade. Sadie sighed, stretching on her side before falling asleep again. Violet’s eyes strayed on the page of the third book of the series she had started only days prior, unable to focus on the words on the page. She looked up, tucking her cheek against her fist as she peered down at the pond. The geese sat on the surface as shadowy shapes in the dusky light.

The geese slid across the water, their heads bowed as if whispering to one another. Violet felt a tug in her belly as she reached for where her pad rested on the side table beside her mug of tea. She typed out a quick message before she stood, wrapping John’s jacket around her shoulders against the cool evening breeze;

Violet Harris : Hope you’re being safe. I miss you. 

--

The morning of the seventh day came the same as the others. She woke with that same worry in her belly, rotting her from within as her concern for him grew. Violet had woken up too early for the first time in what felt like years, unable to will herself back to sleep. She decided to go for a run before Sadie woke up, the dog having no interest in waking before her usual 6am wake up call. Violet huffed out a laugh at the irony as she dressed herself, wandering out of her building to the paths of the still dark park. She turned up her music as loud as she could stand it, her playlist thumping in her head as her feet pounded against the pavement around the pond.

She ran until her muscles screamed for her to stop, gasping for breath as she stopped by the pond. The sun had begun to poke over the horizon, casting an orange glow over all things around. Violet wiped sweat from her brow as she caught her breath, her eyes falling on the geese that glided over the pond, starting their day side by side. She wondered if John was watching the same sunrise.

Violet found that work brought her little comfort as well. Each beep of the PA system made her heart race, hoping for the call for Brokkr teams to report for dismounting. But, the call seemingly never came, Violet finding herself growing more and more irritated by each call. A message from Lorelei pulled her from her office to the labs to sign off on authorizations, Violet grateful for some sort of task. As she entered Lab 3, Lorelei didn’t bother to look up from her microscope. The redhead simply held her pad out to Violet with the authorization forms ready to be signed. 

“I’ve already filled them out,” she stated, adjusting the microscope when Violet took the pad, “I just need your signature.”

Violet scanned through the forms, double checking that everything was in order. She let out a relieved sign when she found that the forms had been typed out and not handwritten. She glided her finger across the bottom of the pad in her looping signature, setting in on the lab table beside Lorelei. The young woman didn’t so much as mutter out a thank you, Violet standing beside her. Violet recalled the fact the young woman had shared with her about her boyfriend’s assignment, doing her best to take on a casual disposition as she leaned against the counter.

“So,” she began. Lorelei didn’t look up, “You said your boyfriend works with the Spartans? I haven’t heard a lot of calls for teams this week. Any idea if any teams are out?”

Lorelei shrugged, eyes still fixed to the microscope,  “I think he mentioned that Silver Team is deployed. He changes their status on the duty board.” 

It wasn’t quite the tidbit of insider information Violet hoped for. She bit back a sigh, pushing herself off of the counter. Her schedule for the rest of the day was dismally empty, and she had no desire to return to a silent office. “I’m headed down to The Ponds,” she called as she left the lab, “If anyone comes looking for me, let them know.”

The Ponds sat inside of Greenhouse #1; two massive pools that resembled typical swimming pools until one came closer. Below the surface sat entire ecosystems of both freshwater and saltwater bodies. The greenhouse came in a partnership with the biology department, both pools containing species of aquatic life along with the plants that resided there. Violet assumed that The Ponds would be her best choice for the afternoon; her head underwater meant that she couldn’t hear the unending PA calls. 

She chose Pond A; The Sea. The pool was filled with ocean life, clown fish wiggling past her face as she swam, darting through the bubbles of her respirator. She could hear little but the rhythmic hum of the current simulators and the hiss of her breath through the respirator. The school of orange fish wove through the water in a tight group, disappearing into a bright pink anemone. Violet smiled around the mouthpiece, maneuvering around a blue tang as she kicked her flippers down, propelling herself down to the forest of giant macrocystis kelp anchored to the faux-ocean floor. She wove through the tall stalks, hands gently running against them as she checked for any signs of abnormalities. Fish swam in and out of the kelp, the narrow blades swaying in the current. She paused for a moment, watching the silent world pass around her. A thresher shark passed below her, gently bumping her legs, unminding of the humans that were constantly in her habitat as she went on in search of a snack.

The warning chime of her respirator sounded, alerting her that her oxygen supply was running critically low. Violet pushed off the sandy bottom of the pool, swimming upwards towards the surface illuminated with artificial UV light. She broke the surface with a gasp, spitting out the mouthpiece, salty water clinging to her lips. A few horticulturists worked beside the pool, looking behind them to where Violet treaded water towards the steps out of the pool. One knelt down beside the pool, reaching out a hand to Violet, “Good dive, Doctor Harris?”

Violet nodded, taking his hand and pushing herself up out of the poolside. She sat on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water as she removed her flippers, setting them beside her.

“Those are shallow water plants,” she pointed at the surface of the clear waters to a patch of green, “They are positioned outside of any direct sunlight. They need to move up roughly, oh I don’t know, eight feet?” 

The horticulturist nodded. Violet stood and peeled off her wet suit, removing her goggles, frowning as her fingers brushed against the indents in her skin left behind by them. She gave the stiff fabric a shake, sending a spray of water across the floor.  “Actually, scratch that. Run a full water pH panel. I want to rule out issues with alkalinity before we move anything. You can send the results to my office when you’re finished.” 

“Yes, Doctor.” 

“Thanks, Nathan,” she responded, giving her soaked hair a squeeze as she made her way to the showers. Above head, the PA system called out a message, Violet finding herself straightening up to listen. The call she hoped for didn’t come, disappointment fluttering in her belly again. 

“Hey, Nathan,” she called, the horticulturist pausing where he stood over a water sample collection kit. She pointed up towards the speaker over the workstations, “Were there any calls while I was under?” 

“No, ma’am. Nothing that pertained to us.”

The disappointment returned as she made off towards the showers.

--

John rolled his shoulders as Silver Team walked the familiar hall from Brokkr removal to the lift, still sore from days spent in the suit. They had arrived on Reach less than a half hour ago, all of them exhausted and sore from the deployment. The mission had been a bust; they had spent more time in slipspace than they had with boots on the ground, the mission taking all of a day once they confirmed that the Covenant had already left the planet. The team followed behind him, grumbling about the mission as they walked. 

“Bullshit is what it was,” Vannak stated, “All that time in slipspace and I didn’t get to kill shit. Waste of our damn time.”

“The least they could do is feed us before we have to debrief,” Riz tapped the call button of the lift, the doors dinging open. They stepped in, John stepping in after them and turning to face the door.

“It should be quick,” he reassured them.

He hoped the debrief would wrap up before she got off, John hoping to find Violet before she left for the evening. Her message had popped up on his HUD days prior, John reading over it at least a dozen times before asking Cortana to dismiss it. He wasn’t authorized to respond while deployed, but her words echoed through his mind as they hurled through space. I miss you. He had never been told that before. His absences were always greeted with debriefs and mission reports and directives on next orders. He missed her, too.

The lift came to a stop, the doors sliding open. His breath caught in his throat when he found Violet on the other side of the open door, her eyes glued to her pad. He felt that twist in his chest when she looked up from her pad, green eyes softening when she saw him, a soft sigh escaping her lips as if she had been holding her breath. A faint sunburn colored her cheeks, somehow revealing more freckles than he had thought possible, the faint lines of what looked like a pair of diving goggles ringing her face. Her face split into a grin, Violet’s steps quickening towards the open doors of the lift. He couldn’t help but feel the corners of his own mouth turn up at the sight of her. Her eyes widened as she got closer, noticing the rest of his team behind him. Her steps slowed, Violet straightening as she neared the lift. She stood at the doors, hugging her pad to her chest. “I can catch the next one,” she stated.

Kai spoke before he could, “Oh no, there’s room,” she said with a cheeky politeness that made his shoulders tense. “C’mon in.”

Violet nodded, mumbling out a thank you before stepping onto the lift, pressing the button for her floor. The doors slid shut, Violet turning her back to them so she faced the door. The lift fell silent, Violet’s eyes directly ahead, obviously unsure of what to do in the presence of his team. He looked down at her, her hair wet and pulled back tightly. She smelled like saltwater. He wanted to touch her, to hear her laugh and see those green eyes. He could feel their eyes on his back in the tense silence, resisting the urge to run his fingers down her spine and assure himself that she wasn’t just a figment of his exhaustion.

He relented to himself, pressing a hand to her back and Violet’s head twisted up to look at him, her eyes darting back at where Riz, Kai, and Vannak stood watching before returning to him, “Still on for tonight?” 

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” she murmured, watching him with those green eyes that he had thought of since departing Reach. “You just got back. You’re not too tired?” 

“No,” he whispered back, brushing his thumb against her back, desperate to feel her under his touch again. “I want to see you. It might be late. We’re headed up to debrief.”

She smiled up at him with that smile, nodding. “That’s fine. I’ll see you tonight.”

The doors slipped open, the speaker system announcing their arrival on her floor. Down the hall, a lab tech looked up from his pad, eyes locking on Violet as he approached the lift, “Doctor Harris?”

Violet pulled her eyes away from John at the mention of her name, the lab tech’s eyes widening as he approached the lift, finding his boss surrounded by four Spartans that watched her curiously. The lab tech cleared his throat, nodding to the four of them before turning back to Violet, holding out his pad, “The results of the pH culture you ordered from the saltwater tanks have come back with abnormalities, ma’am.”

“Oh yeah? Is there something fishy going on?”

She watched the lab tech with an expectant grin. John couldn’t help but roll his eyes as a laugh bubbled in his chest that he swallowed down. The lab tech stared back at her blankly, still holding out his pad to her.

“Should I send the results to your pad then?”

She sighed. “Yes.” She rolled her eyes and glanced up at John, tapping at her pad as the results popped up on her screen. 

“C’mon, that was fucking funny,” she mumbled to him. He chuckled as she stepped off the lift, following the lab tech down the hall. She glanced over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner, mouthing her goodbye and giving him a final soft smile. He had hoped that the smile he returned had been small enough, but the deafening silence that followed as the doors slid shut proved otherwise.

He straightened back up, feeling the eyes of his team on his back as the lift began to move again. The soft mechanical hum was the only noise that filled the small space. Behind him, someone shifted. Riz attempted to muffle a huff of laughter with a cough, Kai and Vannak sharing pointed looks with one another. John felt the back of his neck grow hot. Riz cleared her throat, stifling another laugh as Kai bumped her shoulder against hers. John sighed, closing his eyes.

“So,” Riz began, her tone even, “Is this one going to try to kill us, too? Or was that just specific to the last girlfriend?”

Kai and Vannak snorted out laughs at her question, John glaring at them all over his shoulder. “Not another word,” he growled.

“So, they get to meet her and I don’t? This is so unfair.”

“Shut up.”

The three settled with a series of hissed chuckles, the elevator falling silent again. John straightened, busying himself with watching the floor numbers illuminate as the lift climbed upwards. Behind him, Vannak chuckled, the low sound growing into a thunder of laughter.

“What?” he snarled, Vannak’s laughter continuing to grow. 

“Nothing, Chief,” Vannak grinned at him, “Just thought you were into blondes.”

[writeforfandoms]

I have a question and I know because I haven't finished the playthrough, yet, maybe the answer is in it but I'm wondering if Cortona is real like Master Chief because it'll be nice a fic where he and the reader the new AI his assistant or Cortona herself because they spend so many times together, one day she's been hacking and he worries a lot abt and will try everything to help her...

Yes I have another idea instead of writing fics...it's less stressful and anxious etc etc...sorry

So Cortana is a smart AI - she's not physical. She can make holograms of herself, but she can't physically interact with things. That's why Chief does the heavy lifting.

I feel like part of what makes Chief and Cortana such good partners is that they have complementary skills. Chief is good at bashing through any obstacles in his way, and Cortana is good at getting the information they need from mainframes and bigass ancient weapons. Chief trusts Cortana when she says she can handle something.

But it's a fun concept to think about! What would Chief do if she was in trouble? (I mean we get some idea of that in Halo 4, but it's still fun to think about possibilities.)

[stitchlingbelle]

Watching Halo Season 2, Episode 1

Here we go again! Things I’ve picked up from discussions leading up to this season: we’re starting off with a pretty major timeskip, The Fall of Reach is coming and is going to SUCK, bargain-bin Spartans are going to be invented, there’s a guy named Ackerson and he’s a weasel. Let’s be about it!

Cold open—it looks like the procedure to remove Cortana. Who’s crying? John? Cortana? The combined entity they became? (Is this a Tuvix situation?)

And since this is where the timeskip happens, I’ll go ahead and register my biggest complaint now. It’s actually the same complaint I had last season: rushing this into so few episodes is a mistake. In a show with room to breathe, the Cortana!Chief thing should have been a MINIMUM of three episodes: one where we see what that person is like, one about separating them, one about the repercussions. Minimum. Instead, it’s an entire arc about the one of the most impactful things that happens to John in his adult life… and it’s handwaved away in a timeskip to get back to the action. What an absolute waste.

After our cold open, we slam into a disorienting bit where it takes me too long to sort out when and where we are and what Silver Team’s status is. Riz is with them, and everyone’s voices have lost the flatness, so I’m assuming we’re all pellet-free now. (A moment later this is confirmed when Riz asks Vannak about his as if he’s the last holdout. He WATCHES NATURE DOCUMENTARIES NOW. “Animals ‘n stuff.” Oh, my heart.) Not sure exactly where Master Chief’s at emotionally, he seems distracted. They’re attempting to evacuate a civilian population before the planet gets glassed and it’s not going well.

Marines are not getting through to the leaders—is this another opposition planet or just full of stubborn people? (Also, one of the marines is called Shepard—is that a name I should know? Or wait, is that one of the Mass Effect guys?) Hey, it’s the mystical old woman from the trailer! She tries to spar verbally with Master Chief and he doesn’t respond. You need to make Kai the face of the party, bro, her Charisma score is way higher than yours.

Some marines are missing, so Master Chief goes off to retrieve them. Or should I say up, as in up a sheer cliff face, allowing Vannak to drop cool facts about the Nubian Ibex and I would like to adopt him now. Chief finds them after a brief friendly-fire incident. They explain they’re a comms team. “I could tell by your aim.” Ouch.

Aaaaand RIP the smart one who didn’t want to move. This ‘out of the fog’ stuff is some horror-movie shit right here. Wait, the Covenant have personal cloaking devices now? Don’t like that. Chief needs one of those glowing blades, they seem very useful. Verbatim from my notes at this point: “It’s nice they only attack one at a time. OR NOT F*CK” as the VERY EFFECTIVE shot with all the blades lighting up around them happened.

I was trying to figure out how John was going to get out of this (my guess was Sudden Kai Appearance) when the Covenant guys all just… vanished? Why? And again, just a second later I got to write OH SHIT GLASSING. Turns out that’s why.

He manages to save just the one marine and heads back to the rendezvous point, just in time to catch a Foretelling of Doom from the mystical old lady before she goes to commit suicide. Huh, I thought she’d last longer.

Aaaand shower scene, lol. You’re not beating the ‘Master Cheeks’ rep like this, buddy.

Debrief—as a side note, Kai’s colorful hair is gone, which makes me very sad. Also, congrats to the FX department on making Riz’s scars truly gnarly looking. (And thanks to the showrunners for not chickening out and giving her ‘pretty girl scars’ or something.) Anyway, a bunch of other planets also got glassed while they were gone, including Madrigal.

Another pause for a broader point here—I don’t like that. I realize that Kwan was widely disliked by Old Guard fans last season, but the point of her storyline seemed to be that the planet itself was important. I don’t like the idea that they backpeddled so severely in response—stand by your creative choices! And again, given the import of the planet last season, glassing it in a timeskip is a poor storytelling move. (Also, you’d think the Covenant would be a little warier of glassing planets they KNOW have connections to the Halo, at least until they’ve really, really thoroughly checked them out… but I digress.)

Back to the debrief. John is trying to convince Keyes and the team that something’s up with how the Covenant behaved on Sanctuary, but Keyes at the very least isn’t buying it. Some rando appears—oh, it’s Ackerson, who ATBNL says is a weasel. He’s certainly living up to his rep immediately. My baby Kai clocks it right off: “Sir, if I may, who the hell is this guy?” LOL. Apparently, he’s Halsey’s replacement. Mostly this makes sense, but where’s Miranda? Did she resign? Is she being punished for her association to Halsey? Keyes seems to have escaped that... (Ackerson specifically references Halsey’s own consequences and there’s a very awkward look at Keyes, lol.)

Ackerson’s speechifying and it’s pretty clear he’s mostly here to flex by showing he can drop in on them like this. He calls each member of the team by name(+number) and makes it clear he knows their records, but he only calls John “Master Chief”, which I found a little odd. There’s an ominous little exchange about the Spartans’ importance to the public: “They feel safe.” “Are they?” And finally after he leaves, Kai pushes Keyes for a bit more of an explanation. “He’s the boss,” Keyes says shortly. He doesn’t make it sound like a good thing.

Hey, it’s Rubble! Wtf is this? A slave auction? A fighting ring? Wtf, Soren, I thought better of you. (I am perhaps naïve.) Apparently it’s a “2 years’ indentured service” auction. This is how they’re absorbing some of the refugees from Madrigal (and possibly other places? Idk) This redhead (Felix?) says he’s got a line on how to find Halsey. I think Soren’s biting, even though he’s playing it cool. What does Laera think of all this?

Meanwhile in Ackerson’s office, the surviving comms tech—Perez—is being debriefed when John drops by to try and convince Ackerson of his concerns. John and Perez share a look, and possibly a flashback, of the Fog Fight. John gets a little chatty trying to draw Ackerson out with their shared combat experience. Ackerson gets weird about things, asking about hallucinations and John’s mental state. Did Perez and the others not see what John saw? Yikes, if so. Or is Ackerson just playing some political game? Blowing the Master Chief off and flexing his power over him is stupid if he wants the Master Chief’s cooperation. And I have to believe he needs it at least a little—surely he rises or falls on the Spartans’ performance, just as Halsey and Parangosky did?

Back on Rubble, Kessler is in a toy Master Chief helmet with a little toy Spartan. (The props department must have been delighted to get to just go to Target and pick that up, lol.) (Also, there’s a lot going on with your choices there, Soren…) Kessler’s upset over something. Soren puts his foot in it with Laera, and she calls him out on it, bless her. I love you, Laera. Laera tells Soren they need to get the hell out of Dodge, and I think Soren should listen. But I don’t think he will.

Perez gets a medal (while *two* shirtless Spartan dudes watch it on TV, welcome Vannak *eyeroll*). She looks deeply uncomfortable. Another Spartan team, Cobalt, comes in—hey, there ARE more of them! (Are all their names metals in this timeline?) Aaaand they are weirdly hostile to Silver Team, apparently on account of… Silver Team having taken their pellets out? That is deeply weird. First of all, how are they CAPABLE of being weirdly hostile over the pellet issue if they still have their own pellets? And secondly, how is it that Silver Team cared about all these revelations about Halsey and their shared pasts and the other Spartans just… don’t? Or am I missing something here? Cobalt��s headed out on a mission that sounds eerily like the doomed comms team’s Fog Fight. John tries to give them a heads up.

He also goes straight to Ackerson and tries to get HIM to give Cobalt Team a heads up. Ackerson is again weird and very hostile. He distrusts John’s report because of the Sangheili just leaving bit, and blows off John’s very reasonable request to warn Cobalt that something weird may be up. Again, I don’t understand Ackerson’s game here. It would have cost him nothing to agree to John’s face—or honestly, even to pass on his concerns, which really do amount to nothing more than “watch out for something hinky”.

Rubble again. Soren’s prepping to head out and he and Kessler chat. Kessler’s worried about a monster, Soren refuses to reassure him completely, which Kes, like any smart kid, immediately clocks. The whole scene is just dripping in THIS IS BAD foreshadowing. Soren’s crew has Felix the redhead, but they’re confused that Soren’s coming along to check out his tip?

John is trying to be all stealthy in a hoodie out in the city, which suddenly looks 75% less Solarpunk Utopia and 75% more Cyberpunk than when we saw it with Makee. Parangosky meets up with him—he doesn’t seem to be expecting her specifically, so what did he expect? Did she resign or was she discharged (or court-martialled?) What power does she still have to help? Who are her allies? Good on John for having grown enough to attempt to negotiate, but that exchange—  “What will you give me?” “I’ll believe you.”—was killer. She absolutely has his number there.

On Soren’s ship, Felix is telling the full version of his tip about Halsey, and WHAM, we come out into a debris field with a destroyed ship. Soren’s dragging Felix along, the kid’s chatty and nervous. The microgravity effects are pretty good, well thought-out. Felix will not shut up and is putting his foot in it. Ooooh, pressurized door in a vacuum issues! I love this show. Crap, it was all a set up. Soren’s arrested. Who’s going to tell Laera and Kessler? What will Laera do?

John’s (still? Back?) undercover, going to… what looks like a futuristic phonesex establishment? … to pretend he’s talking to Cortana. God, this scene was sad. They packed what, again, should have been an arc into about three sentences and a choice of medium/location. As I said last season, they do a brilliant job fitting everything in with clever and efficient writing. Finally he has another Fog Fight Flashback, this time with Makee?

And we wrap up with mixed flashes—John, Laera and Kessler getting the news that Soren “died”, and Kessler running off to see… Kwan, hiding in one of the caves of Rubble.

Wow, there's a lot going on here! I can't wait to see what's next.

[authortobenamedlater]

After combing through the show (again) for fanfic purposes, I just need to throw this out there.

Halo has SO MANY LOOSE ENDS to tie up in S2.

I know we all know this but let me put an itemized list here for my own benefit if nothing else.

First, and biggest: They have to separate Cortana and John. Seeing as John can't access the keystones in his current state, the show is kind of stalled until this happens. So it has to happen quickly enough not to take up the entire season but slowly enough to not make it too easy.

Second, and most obvious: They have to find the Halo. If you take clues from this photo, we won't have to wait too long. If nothing else we can rest easy that all our Spartans are back together. I'm going to wager this also means John and Cortana are back to themselves.

Third, about which few people care but is still important: Kwan and Madrigal. We didn't like Kwan, but now that she's here, we need to know why, you know? The show can't just drop her, but they also can't let her eat up airtime like she did for much of S1.

As I recall, it looks like Madrigal is a portal or something to get to the Halo along with some Forerunner term I can't remember (@mrtobenamedlater can comment more here since he's the one who told me), so I'll bet that's where they are going with this.

Fourth: Where's Halsey and what's she up to? And how many flash clones does she have?

Fifth, can't believe I forgot this and have to edit it in: Is there any kind of reckoning for the SII program architects? JAG is clearly sniffing around, and even Halsey can't hold them off forever. Keyes is so pissed off at himself and everything by the last episode I wouldn't be surprised if he went nuclear on the whole thing.

Other second-tier loose ends...

This isn't exactly critical to the story, but The Reach for Life project is fishier than Mr's waders when he comes home after a day on the water. What is up with that? Halsey knew John's parents somehow. What's the connection? Did his parents die in the plague or what? That plague was absolutely engineered to wipe out the planet, so who did it (spoiler: Halsey)? What about John finding the artifact took his family from happy and fairly normal to clearly not happy? Show of hands, who thinks Halsey was in on that?

John tells Kai "I'm working on it" when she says her parents could still be out there. Are we going to meet them? What about Riz and Vannak's parents? I'm also going to take this moment to say once again that I don't understand why they did a whole new team for Chief when Blue Team was already there AND the show used so many other characters that barely appear in the games at all (I know they have major roles in novels etc.).

Assuming we get another nine-episode season, everything in this post alone would be enough to fill it. I saw a report of a couple of new characters coming in, so there are obviously going to be some new threads there. Are we going to have enough time for all of it? I wouldn't complain if we got more episodes, or if each episode was over an hour long a la Rings of Power.

I simultaneously want Halo S2 immediately because I'm impatient, and want it to take as long as possible because I'm afraid it will take all the worst parts of S1 and magnify them. Also I have tons of fanfic to write and don't need canon getting in the way.

I really need to go into my drafts and find my rant about how short seasons are ruining TV because that's the root of my gripe here.

Anyway. If you read this far, did I miss anything?