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By Sir_Brilliant
Book 0
End's Beginning
Chapter 1
Stepping off the broken walkway of the UNSC Gettysburg onto the spotless, flat floor, his green armor reflecting off the ground, the Master Chief extended his hand. Fleet Admiral Sir Terrence Hood shook it, disregarding the almost impervious armor with encased the Master Chief's body.
"Permission to come aboard, sir."
The smile on the admiral's face showed immense joy. "Permission granted. It's good to have you back, Master Chief."
"Good to be home, sir." Images of Reach immediately came to mind, blocking his view of the soldiers standing near the exit of the landing bay.
It was his true home. Reach, which was glassed by the covenant only two weeks before, not including the warped space-time effects of the crystal they found on Reach and destroyed. Most of his team was on the planet at the time, including Spartans -104, -058, and -043; Fred, Linda, and Will, respectively. Looking up, he saw them coming aboard and greeting the Admiral.
So many more of them were killed on Reach, and each of their faces flashed before him. As the leader of the Spartan II's, every fallen comrade was a lost part of himself, yet he never showed it. It was his duty to stand tall and strong, never wavering. He would never forget Chief Petty Officer Mendez' last words to him, and he would never disobey those orders.
"Master Chief," the admiral said, grabbing his attention. "Your armor's looking a little, well… beat. How about you give that suit in so we can fix it up?"
"Yes sir." It was strange, now that John thought about it, leaving his Mjolnir Battlesuit. The half-ton jade-green armor had been a second skin for him, one that had saved him numerous times. And in the last week, the only parts he had taken off were the gauntlets and helmet, simply to eat and drink. Chances are without the armor, he wouldn't be alive to think about it.
The idea of taking it off was both considerable and unpleasant. John wanted to walk freely, breathe normal air, and use only his own faculties. Yet it had grown on him, always comfortable, regardless of anything that happened in the surrounding environment. Every movement only required a single thought, and the armor moved his body at incredible speed.
Perhaps a short time out of it would be best.
Just then, the admiral walked past John, a smile creeping across his face. "I don't believe it," he said in shock and sarcasm. His mouth gaped then closed, only to show all his teeth in a pearly smile.
Sergeant A.J. Johnson saluted the admiral, standing straight, both feet together. "Reporting for duty, sir!" Admiral Hood returned the salute, watching the dark man's cold face become a full-fledged grin. He embraced Johnson, both patting each other's backs.
"Damned good to see you, Johnson! Didn't expect I'd see you here."
"Well, if you thought the Covenant would get poor old Sergeant Johnson, then surprise."
"Glad to hear it." They both laughed, obviously knowing each other, and they headed for the door. Admiral Hood turned back as the doors opened behind him, facing John. "Master Chief, get some rest. That's an order. These men will show you to your quarters, and you'll be debriefed at 1500 hours."
"Aye aye, sir."
Johnson and Hood walked out the door, but before the door closed, John smiled at what he heard from the good sergeant. "Damn lordy, you give them too much time off! Keep it up and they'll sleep through the whole war!"
******
Pulling up his sweat pants, there was a knock on the door to Spartan -117's quarters. He tied the waistband and yelled across the room. "Enter!" and the doors opened, allowing in three officers, all ranked respectably enough. They walked in one by one, the front soldier speaking. "Sir, we're here to take your-"
John entered from the other room, looking at the gaping mouths stare at him. To them, seeing a Spartan, the greatest of soldiers, was an honor in itself. But what they saw was inhuman, at least in their opinion. He walked right up to them, scanning each of their faces as they blankly stared at him. Wearing a military grade tank top revealed his arms, which seemed to be covered in muscles, all which bulged out. The officer in front couldn't understand how they all managed to fit on one arm. And the clothes he dropped off were all extra extra large, as requested, yet still were skin tight on this behemoth.
Yet over all his physique was his pasty skin, almost completely white. Living almost exclusively within the confines of his Mjolnir armor, John's skin rarely saw direct sunlight, making his body produce a laughable amount of melanin. He didn't mind too much, but was occasionally reminded of his tanned self before the Mjolnir days.
"Yes?" The three snapped to attention.
"Sir! We were ordered t-to take your armor to t-the Science lab, s-sir."
"That won't be necessary. I'll take it there myself."
The Petty officers looked at each other. The one on John's left spoke up. "Sir, that armor weighs more than half a ton."
He grabbed a huge bag and hefted it like a feather. "I could use the light exercise." They paused, watching the bag, thinking there was no way it could hold the Mjolnir armor within. The soldier in the back, at least a head above the other two, stepped forward.
"May I?" John handed him the bag, and as he let go, the man fell to the floor, the bag anchoring him to it. Hoisting it again, John helped the fallen man to his feet, saluted, and left the room, running out of site.
*******
Jogging down the long corridor, every officer gave a quick glance at John and returned to their business. A few women officers eyed him, watching him longer. But seconds after he ran past each person a barrage of air came through, simply from his slow pace of 15 kilometers per hour. He slowed down from 25 after hearing a woman scream from her dress flying up.
Each step was quiet, even though the bag more than tripled his weight. Just as a drop of sweat formed above his forehead, he heard light footsteps in the passageway beside his. 20 meters ahead they would connect, and he'd meet up with another Spartan.
Listening closely, he tried to identify whose footsteps they were, simply to test himself, and maybe even for fun. The softness of each step meant it couldn't be Fred, and the smaller whisper of air wouldn't match with Will's physique. The corridor ended and John came face to face with his hypothesis.
Linda.
They both smiled to each other and scanned each other thoroughly in a moment. Linda was wearing the same garb as John, perhaps a size smaller. Her red hair was kept in a pony tail, staying airborne almost constantly. Her right arm was black and blue, still healing from plasma burns covering it.
John wondered if he'd see Fred and Will along the way. Both of them had minor leg injuries and were told not to put much force on them, but the Spartans didn't usually listen to sound medical advice. They also normally wore their Mjolnir armor, which made even dire injuries seem like scratches.
Turning left, a sign overhead read Science Lab 3, and the two slowed down and walked to the doors. They were locked, and John hit the intercom system. A moment passed, and a voice came through.
"This Science lab is a restricted area. What business do you have?" The automated voice showed no quarter, and John intended to give none.
"Spartans -117 and -058 reporting as ordered to bring our Mjolnir battle armor." The doors opened seconds later and the two entered. Tools scattered the lab, as well as unopened crates, boxes and tables carrying everything. The floor was barely noticeable except for a small walkway to a lighted room where several familiar voices emerged.
Walking in, John saw Fred and Will in wheelchairs, Cortana's holographic image displayed across from them, and a scientist in a white coat. Cortana's image faced John, with her hands on her hips. "Sleep well?"
"Fine, no thanks to you." An electric charge rippled across her body and a smirk broke out on her face. He gave a quick nod to Fred and Will, and looked over to the woman in the white coat. Her back was still to them.
"I'll be with you in a minute."
Linda walked to John's left side, looking at Fred and Will's wheelchairs. "Comfy?"
"No complaints", Fred replied. "It's always nice to have some wheels." John turned back to the entrance of the lab, noticing two sets of black marks on the floor.
"Fun race?"
"Couldn't be better." The smile on Will's face meant he was the victor. Only then did the white-coat turn to them.
"It's good to have you with us, Spartan -117 and -058", she said in a slight British accent. "You two can leave those on that table over there", pointing to one at their right. She then looked sternly at Fred and Will. "You may be the most decorated soldiers in the UNSC, but this is still a military installation. I hope you don't do anything like that again.
"Ma'am, we were just getting our exercise."
Her face turned red and she opened her mouth to reply, but John cut her off. "If there isn't anything else, we'll be leaving now." She closed her mouth, and turned back to work quickly. Will shrugged, and they left the lab.
The doors closed abruptly behind them, and they waited there, not knowing exactly what to do. This is the first time they were fully rested and fed since the Covenant attacked Reach, without any orders or missions to fulfill. John looked at the others, seeing beads of sweat on their foreheads.
"Looks like we're a bit out of shape. Let's find the gym."
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