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Reluctant Savior
Posted By: Marine Corps 117<marinecorps117@yahoo.com>
Date: 3 November 2006, 4:31 am
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"But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding onto something."
Reluctant Savior
In every man's life, decisions must be made.
"Is it true?"
Some are decisions that many men would rather not face.
"More or less."
Some are decisions that can affect the lives of the innocent.
"Technically," the Monitor continued, laying out the horrible details that I did not wish to know, "this installation's pulse has a maximum effective radius of twenty-five thousand light years. But, once the others follow suit, this galaxy will be quite devoid of life, or at least any life with sufficient biomass to sustain the Flood."
All are decisions that will define who that man is.
"But you already knew that," he said, genuinely confused. "I mean, how couldn't you?"
It did not matter if this was fate, coincidence, or even divine intervention; what mattered was that every sentient being in the galaxy now depended on me and only me. It was safe to assume that no man before me ever had to make a decision like this. Should or should I not sacrifice all life in the galaxy to spare them a fate worse than death? Would I be their savior?
Or would I be their executioner?
I realized it was very possible for one to completely misconceive this as power, like some monarch's unquestioned rule over a nation. This was nothing more than potential genocide. But I had to be reasonable. If the Forerunners, the supposedly all-powerful beings that created these massive, lethal ring-worlds to begin with, could not overcome the enemy that made these Halo installations necessary…
What chance does humanity have?
I have been under extreme pressure before. As one of mankind's finest, it was simply part of the job to partake in countless, elaborate operations, which inevitably hinged on one, fragile, thread-like factor that would decide the outcome of the mission. But this was not a mission. This was a choice.
I felt very much like the ancient Greek titan, Atlas, tasked with carrying the weight of the sky upon his shoulders to keep it from crushing the world and its inhabitants. A formation of Sentinels floated into place beside their master, silently summoned to coerce my cooperation, and I returned to the moment. Like deadly metal flower petals, the Sentinels folded open to reveal crimson weapons, which swiveled to target me.
Trillions of lives in my hands… It almost made my duty of protecting humanity, just a single species out of countless more, seem comparatively small.
Did I deserve to make the choice? Did anyone? Should I feel honored? Or am I cursed with this burden, this weight of weights on my shoulders? Would I die with everyone else? Or would I be spared to die alone? Would there be pain? Could I have avoided this? Am I ready to die? Are they ready to die? What can I do? Why do I have to make the choice? Why?!
And this Monitor, this "343 Guilty Spark", he expected me to have known? Who does he think I am?
...Who do I think I am?
"Give your construct to me, or we will be forced to take her from you."
The Monitor of Installation 04 continued to hover in place, explaining all, but I could not listen. His words passed over me, unheard, as I contemplated what I could do. After all, with so many lives at stake, how could one not take the time to think?
He continued to talk, explaining protocols and "doing what I had already done". I had two options: either I let them take my construct – Cortana – and thereby kill everything that lived, or simply comply and activate the Halos myself. Training did not go this deep. Not even wisdom, skill, or even love: it was all irrelevant to the choice. This moment was pure instinct, fueled by what made me who I am: SPARTAN-117.
Deep inside, a single concept slithered through the myriad of thoughts that rebounded about within my mind. The installation was built to end life and to preserve life. I had been trained to do the same: to relentlessly and mercilessly vanquish anyone or anything that threatened the well-being of the largest number of human life, even if that meant sacrificing several of my own to do so. Yes, the ringworld and I were essentially no more than weapons. But unlike the Halo, beneath my solid layers of armor, beneath my scarred skin, beneath my toned bands of muscle, and beneath my ivory bones lay a beating heart.
Contrary to the machine that lacked free will, I was a person, a living, breathing being - I could feel. It has been said that hope was both mankind's greatest strength and its greatest weakness. Ignoring such pessimism, my boots remained where they were, fully facing the Monitor whilst keeping my back turned against the path that lead to extinction.
So of the two options I had, I chose the third. Behind my golden visor, my brow lowered fiercely, quivering in unchecked determination. "That's not going to happen."
The machines that flanked the Monitor visibly shifted in mid-air, preparing to fire. "So be it," he said in his calm, artificial voice. "Save his head," he instructed the Sentinels. "Dispose of the rest."
Maybe I will die here. It would be a fitting death: facing the opposing odds regardless of whom, how, and most importantly, why; to die not with submissive silence, but with glorious thunder. A Spartan's death.
But no matter how grand a place this would be for me to finally die at last, to finally join my brothers and sisters in arms in peaceful, eternal rest, I could not allow myself to fall, for if I was to be killed for the sake of what I thought was right, that was all that I would ever be: a martyr, dead in the name of an ideal. That was admirable, perhaps, but it was useless. Not only my life would be lost; all the countless lives in existence would join their failed protector in oblivion.
I still stood, proud like an Atlas fulfilled.
The weight of the galaxy pushed down on my shoulders. Just a few seconds ago, I had been contemplating its sterile fate and the extermination of those who lived in it. In such a swift instant, irony struck: I would have been the universe's murderer; now, I was its sole protector. Echoing the words of the Monitor in my mind, I raised my weapon as I had done all throughout my life: an unyielding Spartan, forever defying the impossible. So be it.
"What are we holding onto, Sam?"
"That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for." Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
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