Fortnite: Project Mecha

Chapter 8: Spartan

The Jonses was a place for people who didn't have a place to go, or in Master Chief's case people called John. Ex-agent of a spy agency John Jones had done something to himself so that he could preserve the previous versions of himself. The result of this was the Jonses, a place ruled by Jones loops.
  Who was the Master Chief, you might ask? Master Chief was the guy in the futuristic armour at the end of the last chapter, leaving him feeling defeated and useless, which he had come to expect by now. He felt useless. He felt like he had failed his family of Spartans, the super soldiers which had been created by the space government known as the UNSC.
  Master Chief had managed to squeeze his way into the Jonses after tricking the Jonses that were there already that he was one of them, since his first name was also John. People didn't use that name much, though. Not any more. Master Chief felt less and less human each day.
  Master Chief's tent was just on the outskirts of the Jonses, tattered and faded. It used to be black, but now it was a storm cloud grey, which made it more visible. Chief had tried to find something to make it darker, but to no avail. Master Chief was only there to collect his fishing rod. He had to make a meal somehow.
  The fishing rod was made of wood and was second hand. Whoever had owned it first hand had never met Chief, but he was grateful that they had carved out the rod for him; he would never have been able to do it himself. He also often kept an assault rifle, a Ranger, but today he had it on him in case the audition had been an ambush. It wasn't, leaving Chief feeling embarrassed in front of three civilians, no less.
  The pond where Chief normally went fishing was deserted. Sometimes, there'd be another person and Chief would actually have to talk to them. Being the silent giant he was, talking was not his forté. He often thought that he sounded stupid. He wondered if other people thought that too.
  Chief sat down on his armoured behind and tossed the red and white end of the fishing rod towards some bubbles in the pond. If he held it there long enough, a fish would come to claim a delicious bounty that wasn't actually there. He always felt bad decieving the fish. Occasionally, he considered going vegetarian but there wasn't a healthy supply of edible flora nearby.
  The fishing was quick. Chief managed to catch a weedy little Smallfry which would barely even touch the Master Chief's calorie quota, considering how big he was. Tall. Muscular. Chief sometimes wondered if he scared people. Every once in a while, he scared himself.
  Back at the tent, started to make his meagre dinner. Just the Smallfry and one mushroom which he had managed to forage just near the Jonses. Sometimes, he pretended that the mushrooms were civilians and that he was a space carrier. By eating them, he'd be saving the 'shrooms from an undecided but unavoidable death. This way, Master Chief felt wanted.
  Back at the UNSC, Master Chief had been wanted to do all sorts. Do this. Do that. Kill some aliens while you're at it. Save these people. Take this somewhere else. All that time, Chief had felt inclined to do these things. Now, he felt inclined to just live out the rest of his days stress free, which wouldn't be an easy task. He knew that from the second he suddenly appeared on murder island a year ago. About a year ago, anyway. Chief had stopped counting the days.
  These days, Master Chief was a freelance bounty hunter. People paid him to kill other people. Often for selfish reasons, but he needed the money to get things other than foraged foods and to fix up his armour and to get access to the best weapons around. It sickened him.
  There'd actually been an organisation that called themselves IO that had asked him to commit mass homicide, but he declined. But he had been tempted. Thankfully, his conscience had won out in the end; he didn't even want to think about where he might be if that had not happened.
  Chief removed his helmet to eat the now cooked fish. It was stringy and bitter and (as its name implied) it was small. Chief's stomach grumbled and growled, begging for more. Unfortunately, the mushroom which he tried to eat next was not the desired more and next thing he knew, the decorated war hero was throwing up outside.
  He glumly went back inside to put on his helmet. He looked at his reflection in his visor. He had short, dark hair and a pale face from his momentary fleet of illness. He had a light stubble on his chin, but none of those details were as noticeable as the faint look that spread across his face.
  The noise outside would've made a normal person jump, but Chief knew by now that he was far from normal. The long grass nearby the tent all rustled loudly and vigorously, like a creature was in them, murdering an innocent victim.
  Master Chief left the tent, "Reveal yourself, or I'll be forced to shoot."
  "Hello?" a girl shrieked.
  Master Chief threw down his gun, humiliated, "I'm on my way."
  "Please don't hurt me!" she yelled.
  "I won't. Please, just come to me." Chief asked, more softly.
  "That's not what you said a minute ago!" the girl sounded suddenly calmer, more composed.
  Master Chief simply shook his head and dived into the tall grass recklessly. Within the blades, Chief found a girl he did not know, with bright pink hair and a long sleeved, black and white cat shirt and jean shorts. Chief grabbed her and pulled her back the way he had come. She kicked and screamed, attempting to punch him but hurting herself on the tough armour more than she was hurting him, which was not at all.
  Chief put her down onto the ground and she began to squirm away, blue eyes watching as she begged, "Don't hurt me! I have friends who need me! I can't leave them!"
  "I'm not going to hurt you, I already said." Master Chief assured her, "That'd be too easy."
  The girl leapt up and began to run in the other direction.
  "That was a joke! Come back, civilian." Master Chief shouted, "I apologise. My humour is a bit dry."
  "Did you just call me civilian?" the girl stopped running but didn't go back.
  "Yes. Because you are one." Master Chief explained.
  "Well, there isn't exactly a government here." the girl shrugged, walking back slowly and carefully, "Call me Skye. You are..?"
  "Ma-" he began.
  Then he looked at his reflection in his discarded firearm. The mask looked robotic and inhuman. I look less and less human each day, he thought. He had thought it earlier, too, but he was recalling it now, knowing that it was true before raising his head.
  "There are two names I go by. Would you like my professional name or the name printed on my birth certificate?" Chief was aware that he was talking a lot, acting more human than he'd done in a long time.
  "Birth name. I'm not your boss!" Skye grinned.
  "Then I'm John." Master Chief said, his voice breaking as he said the last word. It was as if it was almost difficult to say, "But feel free to call me Master Chief."
  "Ok, John." Skye nodded, "I had you all wrong."
  The girl quickly ran up to the Spartan and gave him a hug. Chief felt his body heat up out of embarrassment. Not embarrassed that he'd helped the girl feel safe, because that was good. It was because he knew that if his fellow Spartans saw him hugging a civilian they'd laugh at him or tease him. At least some would, maybe the younger ones.
  "I thought you were a hunter or something, but you're just a gentle giant." Skye withdrew from the hug.
  "That's me." Chief lied. Images of alien corpses filled his troubled mind.
  Skye suddenly began sniffing the air, "Do you smell that? Is it... sick?"
  "I had a bad day." Chief summed it up.
  "Oh no." Skye sighed.
  "It's fine. I'm fine." Chief shrugged, bending down to shuffle back into his tent, "There's shelter in here. Unless you need to get back to those friends of yours."
  Skye joined him in the tent, "Those friends don't really need me. In fact, they think I'm dead."
  "How?" Master Chief cocked his head.
  Skye began, "Well, I got involved in this war between the Seven and IO before it became well known."
  "I've heard of the IO." Master Chief admitted.
  "Yeah? Well, the Seven are basically their counterparts. I'm with them." Skye nodded, "Well, I was with them. You see, I died. And you know how it is; you die, you come back but not as yourself. Like a clone or something. But that didn't happen to me. An IO scientist chose to save me, and I know my past but keep running from it. I miss my friends and can't leave them, but I can't join them either. And that's all there is to say."
  "Huh." Chief reacted solemnly.
  For a few seconds, the only sounds that filled the tent were that of the remnants of the wind.
  "You'll always be safe here." Master Chief added.
  Skye hugged him again, "Thank you."
  Master Chief noted that she sounded upset, and chose to hug her back unlike just standing there like he had done before. He felt like her parent. She was brave when trying to fight him in the grass, but she couldn't do everything by herself. She needed help. Chief realised that for once in his life, he was wanted for a good reason.

To be continued...