| This short story, The Lucky Ones, was written by Sonasaurus. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission. |
| 2208 HOURS // FEBRUARY 17, 2559 Location: UNDERGROUND ONI BUNKER BENEATH VILLAGE OF NEW ASPHODEL, ERIDANUS II, ERIDANUS SYSTEM |
The liveliness within the bunker was winding down by the time the most of the settlers decided to retire for the night. Varun and Samir were guiding them to their designated sleeping areas while Felix paced the corridors, ensuring that all was in order. As he strode past the mess hall, he saw that aside from a few handfuls of civilians hanging about in disparate pockets, Lian and Eldar were still conversing with Blue Team in the far corner.
It was an odd sight, the stark contrast between Blue Team’s pitch-black undersuits with Lian and Eldar’s dusty ponchos, yet the familiarity they exuded with one another was positively radiant. Kelly was chattering animatedly until Lian said something that stopped her short. Whatever she said made Eldar burst out laughing, soon followed by Frederic who looked like he had tried to hold it back. Linda rolled her eyes from the end of the table.
Smiling slightly, Felix continued on down the corridor. The dour lighting against the grey concrete flickered a little but held steady for the most part, and as he reached a T-junction at the end of the corridor, he halted upon spotting the Master Chief sitting alone by the sealed entrance at the very end, fully armoured with his back turned.
Recalling that the Chief hadn’t shown up for dinner at all, Felix quietly approached him, noting that the reclusive Spartan hadn’t even taken off his helmet, and asked, “Not hungry? Yeah, I’ve had nights like that too.”
The Chief did not respond, even after Felix stopped next to the opposite wall.
“Can I join you?”
A single nod. Felix sat down across from him, settling into a well-practiced meditative position, waiting to see if the other Spartan would say anything. Ten seconds passed, then twenty, and then thirty seconds filled by nothing except the muffled sounds of the dust storm raging above them.
Dwelling on the rest of the Spartans in the mess hall again, he prompted, “If I may, Master Chief... aren’t you glad to see Lian and Eldar again?”
“I am,” responded the Chief evenly.
“So don’t you think you should be with them? They’re still in the mess hall, same as your team.”
“I’m fine, Commander.”
“You can call me Felix.”
The Chief turned to stare at him, his expression inscrutable behind the visor.
“Or not. Whatever you’re more comfortable with.” Truth be told, he wasn’t used to being referred to by rank unless it was one of his Spartans. The years they had spent in The Starless Haven might as well have been an entire lifetime, and the prospect of returning to the fold became a distant reality – until Blue Team had found them.
The other Spartan looked back toward the entrance when a ferocious gust howled faintly overhead. “How long do the storms last?”
“They move slow, usually eight to ten hours. We had a few that went on as long as three days though.”
“Provisions?”
Felix glanced over his shoulder. “For five hundred people? Four days if we ration carefully, though we could get the Spartans to start fasting tomorrow and squeeze in one more meal for everyone else.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the Chief told him. “I’ll radio the Infinity to send an Albatross with rations and supplies once the weather clears.”
“I appreciate that,” Felix said warmly. “These people have been through hell to make it here, this will be a tremendous–”
“And then you and your team are getting on that Albatross. Sir.”
There it is. Should’ve known it was too good to be true. Contemplating the best way to respond, Felix opted for sincerity as the best approach, hoping his decades with Lian and Eldar earned him some degree of trust with the Master Chief. “I know you have your orders. I know... being a Spartan can be nothing but following orders a lot of the time. But Chief, let me ask you this – if not for these orders, if you were acting of your own accord... could you say what you’re doing is right?”
This time, the stoic Spartan didn’t even turn his head when he responded. “I’ve disobeyed orders before. Gone AWOL. Made my own calls.” His words grew distant, but not colder. And there was something else beneath the clipped tone. A hint of misgiving.
“So you do understand?” probed Felix.
“That it was a mistake,” the Chief affirmed. “I made a mistake.”
“Trusting yourself was a mistake?”
“It was for me, because humanity paid the price. The entire galaxy paid the price, because...”
Felix already knew what the Chief was about to say. But he held his silence, knowing that this was something the other Spartan needed to say aloud. And sure enough...
“I went after Cortana because I didn’t trust anyone to do their duty. Because I didn’t want them to.”
“She was important to you,” Felix said pointedly. “Every Spartan is still a human being underneath the armour. Even you.”
“One human being.”
“What’s that?”
Finally, the Chief turned to look his way once more. “One human being made a choice that eradicated billions of lives.”
“You didn’t make Cortana do what she did,” Felix told him.
“I didn’t save her when I should have. Something else did, turned her into this.”
Felix could see it, the silent anguish that smouldered beneath the other Spartan with every waking moment. “It wasn’t your fault,” he insisted.
“It is my duty to set it right. It’s yours as well.” The Chief’s voice became brisk and composed once more. He was clearly not keen to dwell on Cortana. “I’ve read your file, Lieutenant Commander. Dr Halsey took a chance on you for a reason.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I was a good guinea pig for her,” muttered Felix. With a sigh, he divulged, “I’m gonna level with you, Chief. I don’t think The Created can be beaten. Some things really are just... impossible.”
The other Spartan contemplated this for a few seconds, but whatever lecture or recital of military protocol Felix was expecting, he was surprised when the Chief’s next words were a question. “Were you ever certain you were going to die?”
“More times than I can count,” Felix replied, mystified as to where this was going. “I’m sure it’s the same for you.”
The Chief nodded. “And when the mission is done, when you realize you’re still alive... what does that feel like?”
The older Spartan swallowed, not particularly fond of revisiting those moments. “Overwhelming,” he said quietly. “Reassuring and terrifying. Exhilarating and exhausting. Like I could live forever, survive anything. Like I had...” The rest of the sentence caught in his throat for a second. “...like I had done the impossible.”
“That’s what Spartans do.”
Felix scowled. “For someone who barely talks, you can be very persuasive.”
“I’ve had a lot to think about,” the Chief admitted.
“Then at least I’m in good company. You’re a pain in the ass, Chief, but I’m glad I understand why everyone finds you so inspiring. I have one stipulation though.”
The other Spartan said nothing, silently prompting him to continue.
“If my team and I are gonna set foot on the Infinity, then make it known to any spooks on board that our combat skins are irreversibly written into our genomes. I don’t want ONI getting any ideas about putting us under a microscope.”
“That won’t be a problem,” the Chief agreed. “Captain Lasky can make the order official.”
Remembering that his old schoolmate Kennedy Mehaffey had served under a First Lieutenant Audrey Lasky upon joining the ODSTs, Felix vaguely wondered if there was any relation to this Captain Lasky. Deciding to look into it later, he stood up to leave. “I’ll go brief my team now so we can start making arrangements for the civvies. Samir will let you know if we get a signal to the Infinity.”
“Affirmative.”
Felix didn’t take more than five steps, however, before he stopped and turned about. “One more thing, actually. Where are you from?”
The Chief’s helmet dipped ever so slightly. “That’s classified.”
“Look, I know an Eridanian accent when I hear one,” insisted Felix in exasperation. “Yours is faint, but it hasn’t gone away completely. You’re clearly not from Luxor, but I can’t quite place it either.”
“You were born here?” For the first time, the slightest hint of surprise entered the Chief’s gravelly tone.
“Halsey didn’t put that in my file, huh?” Felix pointed up toward their southeast. “I grew up on a farm that wasn’t too far from here, maybe less than a hundred klicks that way. When I was a kid, I’d take my father’s hunting rifle during school breaks and follow the Clymene River through the Endless Meadows. There was a local stray who would keep me company sometimes. Her name was Dawn, or at least only she answered to that out of all the names I tried.” He smiled distantly, thinking of the last time he had seen the Kangal Shepherd. It had been during Operation: CHARLEMAGNE, and Dawn had proven to be an unexpected boon for him and the other ORIONS on the ground. “So how about you? Which part of Eridanus II did the legendary Master Chief come from?”
Another noticeable pause, and then... “Elysium City.”
Felix’s smile widened, heartened by this show of trust. “The cradle of the Phaethon Mountains. Named after the final resting place of heroes.” He walked away, adding, “Maybe that’s what awaits us at the end of all this, but you’re right, Chief. Right now is not the time for rest.”
As he headed into the depths of the bunker, he couldn’t help feeling a little wistful knowing that the peace he and VELOX had found within The Starless Haven was coming to an end. In some ways it already had, from the moment it had spat them out into the brave new galaxy. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it until his wake-up call arrived in the form of Blue Team.
And what a mess we have to clean up. In some ways, it didn’t feel like an end; instead it was more akin to the sensation of waking up after a dream. And while the fractured, desperate state of the galaxy was nowhere near as comforting, Felix felt an unexplainable flicker of hope stirring within him. It could be irrational, delusional even, but among humanity’s scattered survivors laid the potential for a new beginning. An opportunity for them to rebuild, wiser and more cautious from their most catastrophic errors.
We just have to defeat The Created to get there. To call it a long shot would be an understatement of galactic proportions, but maybe not impossible. Felix hadn’t heard from The Dismantled since they had infiltrated The Domain, but perhaps the answer laid dormant within its mysterious depths. Only time would tell, but until that time came, he would wait no longer.
There’s still a fight out there. I’m ready to find it again.