The End of it All

1st Lieutenant James O'Neill looked back over the vast landscapes of the Ark one last time as he stood aboard the Sangheili Phantom. He felt a sense of accomplishment, of relaxation. But he also felt something he had not expected. He felt unsatisfied. He suddenly realized, he had spent his entire life knowing nothing but battling the Covenant, firing weapons, smashing heads, ducking under plasma fire. And now, here he was, witnessing the end of the war before his eyes. He should be feeling happy, right? But he simply just wasn't. He began to wonder.

What will I do after this? he asked himself.

He had very few skills other than pointing and shooting and giving out orders. He could stay in the UNSC, but who would they fight? After years of killing aliens, who he had never saw as sentient beings, he didn't think he would be very comfortable rooting out Insurrectionists, fellow human beings. It just wouldn't feel right. Maybe the Covenant would still somehow survive. But even then, now that he had gotten to briefly bond with Sangheili, he wasn't sure he could go back to killing them, if some of them continued resistance.

But maybe they wouldn't. He held out hope that he would be able to find some sort of fulfilling purpose in the galaxy. He sighed, taking his last glance at the grassy hills and snow covered cliffs, his last view of the Human-Covenant War, as the Phantom's doors closed. He moved backwards inside the Phantom, leaning against the troop bay, and continued to ponder. He was at a crossroads in his life, unsure of what to do, and plenty of time left to do something.

Well, he thought. At least I've got the ship ride home to think about it. And so, somewhat satisfied with himself, he closed his eyes, an attempted to take a brief nap as the Phantom began to rattle as it exited the Ark's atmosphere.