The Didact's Shout Part 11, Commander and Green

It's been five months. Five months of silence. I'm not sure how long I can bear it. I've lost everyone... everyone I've ever cared about. Sam, Kelly, Linda, Fred, home... her. Strangely enough, she was the most important to me. I was supposed to help her, and I failed. All that's left is armor, loyalty, and duty. I have to carry on, I know she wouldn't have wanted me to just drop everything. I have to find a way. There's always a way.

The vastness of space did nothing to calm John-117's addled mind, even when he tried to actually focus on just one of the twinkling lights. His usual cool collectiveness had withered into a silent self lament. He only ever removed his armor for the most important bodily functions, and rarely took the time to get to know the crew. He may have saved them, but they sure as hell weren't his family. His true compatriots were off in a never-never land, watching from an eternal void.

He knew there were still Covenant out there, and despite what he and Cortana had done, the newly revived Prometheans were also rising. It was all a matter of time, before the ever faithful covenant gathered their forces and struck. Not that they'd be unprepared, tensions between the UNSC and the scattered aliens had been on the edge, but never overboard.

The spartan was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Lasky walking up to the spot next to him. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. This was now a part of the captain's routine, stopping by and checking up on the chief. He knew exactly what the age supersoldier was going through. Lasky closed his eyes, reliving the moment he shared his last kiss with Chyler Silva.

She made it her dying wish that he never let go of what they had, and to find strength in it. To know that he'd fight for something far more valuable than just the survival of his own race. He had grown distant from forming any other bonds with any other service men and women since her funeral, yes, but he accomplished more than most had within their first few years of service.

He sighed. "Chief. It's been a while. Palmer's asked if you want to do some recon with her, get some air. We've picked up some activity on those Prometheans, but nothing from that 'Didact'. What do you say?" Lasky looked through the window with him, awaiting an answer.

John shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Slowly, he nodded. "I guess I've been letting myself rust for too long. I'll head down, sir." He turned to exit towards the elevator, but not before turning to Lasky. "Thank you, sir." He saluted, and the Captain returned it without missing a beat.

"You bet, spartan."

"Sorry Hoya, not this time." Commander Sarah Palmer paced down the walkway of the infinity's barracks. She'd been told by Roland that the Prometheans had been gathering in a clearing at the base of mountain. The only other useful intel they were given was that the Infinity's scanners were picking up a structure, which they predicted to be an outpost. Her job: get more intel. She wasn't about to go it alone, or with a large team, so she requested the Master Chief accompany her.

The Commander stepped into the armory arc, where several mechanical arms took their time in clicking all of her plating into the appropriate places. The last piece was carefully held in front of her face, her own helmet. She took it, and slapped it on.

Palmer turned her head to her subordinate. "You'll just have to sit this one out, kick around for a bit in the training deck. Tell the fire teams to sit tight."

Hoya stood straight and snapped off a crisp salute. "Aye-aye, commander." With that, he turned on his heel, and headed for the crew deck. A moment later, the commotion from the other active personnel started to die down. Palmer looked up from her tacpad, and saw him.

The Master Chief, clad in his pale green armor, strode down the walkway. He gave silent nods to those that attempted to make eye contact through his visor, and slowly everyone resumed their duties. The Spartan clanked to a halt when he reached her, and saluted her in greeting.

"Commander Palmer." He nodded.

"Chief, been a while." She paused for a moment before adding, "How are you holding up?"

The Chief shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Holding, ma'am."

Palmer beckoned for him to follow, and they soon headed into the hangar bay, and to a pelican. A young pilot, who was idly reading a few reports on the local air space, noticed the two and hastily fixed her ear length hair, and slapped on her helmet. She saluted as the two entered, and sighed in relief at them not noticing her overly-relaxed manner.

"That's good to hear. We're going on a little field trip, checking in on our friends on Requiem. Our gear's already packed and ready, so strap in."

"Aye, Commander. I got your back."

The Chief slid into one of the passenger seats, where a reinforced guard slid into place over him, in order to ensure a less turbulent descent. Spartan-117 crossed his arms in thought.

"Anything else we'll need to know?"

The Commander shook her head. "Only that it's going to be in the eighties, so I hope you brought sunscreen." She chuckled at that.

Coincidentally, the Chief opened the nearest cargo compartment, and pulled out a small purple bottle. "I always have some, just in case."

She only shook her head in amusement as she locked herself into her spot.

Sarah sat across from John, eyeing him curiously from inside her helmet. Before she could start, the pilot's comm rang in both of their ears. "We have the green light to go, Commander.", she said. "Dropping it in five... four... three... two..." With the last moment, a boom resounded in the hangar, and the pelican soared toward it's landing zone.