A/N: Please note that despite the story title, Spartan Jameson Locke does not feature at any point in this work. Ever.

Disclaimer: If I owned Rooster Teeth, or 343 Industries, then this wouldn't be considered Fanfiction. 'Nuff Said.

Chapter 1: The Journey (or, Same Sh*t, Different Earth)

"Word" = Radio/Comms

{Word} = Kaiser

Requiem, February 2558

Three rounds. Three rounds left for his MA5D rifle, after almost an hour and a half of attempting to evade the bastards on his tail. Normally, being a SPARTAN-II meant that Drake would have no trouble either evading hostile troops or mowing them down without a second thought. Normally. However, when you manage to piss off not only an entire Storm Covenant Cruiser's crew of Sangheili, but three squads of Promethean Knights who just won't give up, the whole 'No plan survives contact with the enemy' shtick is a bit of an understatement.

Spartan Drake Hendricks, formerly Drake-064, was screwed, and he knew it. It was only a matter of time before he used those three rounds, and they caught up with him. He couldn't use his stolen energy sword, because it was dead, his Active Camo unit and Shields would only hold for so long. So, he was confused when the semi-annoying voice in his head sounded excited. Especially when he heard what his wayward AI's plan was.

{Boss,} Kaiser's voice sounded in his helmet's speakers, {when I give the signal, run straight at the wall between those two pillars.}

'Sometimes,' Drake thought, 'I'm not sure which of us is crazier. Kaiser, for coming up with these plans, or me for following them.'

"All right, Kaiser" he replied. "I hope you remember that it's not just my head on the line here if this goes sideways." Grimacing, Drake stowed his rifle on his back.

Checking his motion tracker, he looked around the corner at the wall Kaiser had marked. Standing in front of said wall was a mixed bag of Grunts and Jackals, milling about. At least there were no Sangheili. Drake sighed as he sized up the group between him and his…escape route? Objective? Shaking his head, Drake spoke to Kaiser once more.

"So, mind filling me in on this plan of yours?" he asked. It took a couple of seconds for the AI to respond, which meant that whatever Kaiser was doing, it was big.

{I've tapped into the local systems,} Kaiser began {and found us an exit.} A few more seconds passed. {That wall, or rather, those pillars are a localized slipspace portal. I'm currently working on getting it to drop us back at the Infinity.} Drake let out a sigh of relief at that. It was about time that something went right today.

"Good work–" was all Drake managed to get out, before the telltale whine of an overcharged Plasma pistol came from around the corner. So much for the element of surprise. "Kaiser, get us out of here!"

Drawing his rifle once more, Drake rounded the corner and put a single round into each Jackal. Dropping the now useless rifle, he ran towards the portal that was beginning to form on the far wall. Drake's shields were taking a beating from the grunts ahead of him, even as he ducked under a thrown plasma grenade. Belatedly, he realized that the grenade had come from behind him, having ignored his motion tracker for the time being. Drake watched as the grenade stuck to the left-hand pillar before detonating, coincidentally rupturing the methane tank of one of the Grunts. Unfortunately, the damaged pillar started sparking erratically, causing Kaiser to cry out in alarm. Drake ignored his AI's warning, closed his eyes, and jumped for the rapidly closing portal.

When he opened his eyes, Drake noted that he was no longer surrounded by angry Sangheili. Looking around, he noticed that the Infinity was nowhere to be found. 'Might not be where I wanted to go,' he thought,'but it sure beats where I was.'

"Kaiser?" he called out. "How far away from the Infinity are we?" No response. "Kaiser?"

"Your Ancilla cannot hear you, Zero-six-four," came a voice from behind him, "But I can."

Drake turned to face the newcomer, before faltering. He recalled hearing about this from John, after they stopped the Didact from attacking Earth six months ago. This was a vision from the Forerunner known as the Librarian.

"Why am I here?" he asked. The Librarian chuckled, before setting her gaze on him.

"You are here," she said, "because your presence is needed elsewhere." Drake looked at the Forerunner quizzically.

"That makes no sense," he replied. "If I am needed somewhere else, why bring me here? Why not just send me to the Infinity?"

"Because," the Librarian said, "they do not need your help." An image of Earth appeared over the Librarian's outstretched hand. "This is Earth, but not as you know it. This Earth is consumed by war and will not survive without intervention." Drake stared at the image, before looking back up at the Librarian.

"So what?" he replied. "The UNSC needs my help now–"

"Your involvement in the conflicts of the 'UNSC' will lead to greater suffering and oppression!" the Librarian interrupted. "If you stay here, your people will die. If you go, you can save not only the lives of those you care about now, like One-one-seven, but the lives of many others you will meet." Drake looked down at his feet, mulling things over.

"Alright," he eventually said. "What do I have to do?"

The Librarian smiled, before replying. "Before you can leave, you must reach your peak evolutionary form, as One-one-seven did before you. Without this gift, you will not survive."

"Will it hurt?" Drake asked, unknowingly echoing the Master Chief's words. The Librarian merely nodded her head. Drake returned the gesture, closing his eyes once more.

"Do it."

[LOCATION: ERROR], [DATE: ERROR]

When Drake opened his eyes, he was standing on a street in some unknown city. Looking around, he noticed that there was a battle going on around him. He moved off the street, looking for cover, when he saw what appeared to be some type of aircraft launch an unknown warhead high above the city. As the shockwave passed him, Drake saw what appeared to be an old model Aircraft carrier suspended on six massive legs collapse into the nearby harbor. The fighter fell into what Drake would describe as an uncontrolled dive, before crashing into a building several dozen blocks from his current position. Briefly checking the status of his shields, Drake headed for the downed pilot.

"Kaiser, you online?" Drake asked his companion. He was looking for a weapon, in case he encountered resistance. He spotted what appeared to be a rifle, when Kaiser responded.

{Yeah, I'm here Boss. This doesn't look like the Infinity though. More like New York City, but way back in the day, you know?} Drake took another look around, noting several prominent landmarks. He recognized the old United Nations Building, the Empire State building, and a few others that slipped his mind. He was so preoccupied that he nearly missed what Kaiser said next.

{Boss, I think there's something wrong with either the local network or your suit. Both are saying that the current date is February 2068.} Drake chuckled at his AI.

"Somehow Kaiser," he said, "I don't think there's anything wrong. We were guided here by a goddamn Forerunner. Anyway, did you see that fighter go down earlier?"

{Yeah,} came the reply. {I've already place a nav beacon there. You'd better hurry though, the pilot's about to have company.}

After twenty minutes of avoiding patrols from arachnid-inspired tanks, Drake managed to reach the downed fighter. Peering inside the canopy, he could see that the pilot had sustained major damage in the crash. Drake couldn't risk moving him without aggravating his injuries. Signaling for the pilot to stay put, Drake took up a position nearby, as another hostile patrol came to investigate the wreckage.

"Alright assholes," Drake muttered mostly to himself, "come and see what a Spartan can do."

Several minutes, three magazines and five grenades later, Kaiser announced that he'd patched into the pilot's comms, and had signaled for extraction. Expecting to have to hold their current position for at least an hour or so, Drake was surprised when a heavily armed transport swooped in and started firing on a nearby spider-tank.

Once the transport landed, Drake witnessed a squad of soldiers surround the wreckage. Moving up, he held his scavenged rifle in his left hand, calling out to the newcomers.

"Hey, are you boys friendly?" Drake tensed as the soldiers pointed their rifles at him, gesturing for him to lower his weapon.

"Who are you?" one of them asked. Drake was about to reply when, yet another squad of hostile troops opened fire.

Turning around, Drake squeezed off a few rounds at the intruders, dropping several of them, before allowing the hopefully friendly soldiers behind him finish off the rest. Lowering his rifle once more, Drake turned back towards the wreckage, watching as a team of medics lifted the pilot out and onto a gurney. As he did, he saw someone dressed in civilian clothing step off the transport towards him.

"Hello, my name is Doctor Weller," the civilian said, extending his hand. "I suppose we have you to thank for securing Lieutenant Chase?" Drake shook the man's hand, before replying.

"You mean the pilot?" he asked. "I just did what I thought was right." The doctor nodded.

"Yes, well, if it weren't for you," he replied, "Lieutenant Chase might not have made it. He is very important not only to the Vanguard, but to the entire Polity." Drake looked at the doctor, not comprehending.

"Vanguard? Polity?" he asked. "I'm not familiar with those terms." Weller stopped and looked at Drake intrigued, but before he could ask more questions, one of the soldiers got his attention.

"Sir, we need to leave," she was saying. "This place is going to be swarming with Union troops soon, and I'd rather not be here when they arrive." Weller nodded, before turning back to Drake.

"Well, it seems we are leaving. Would you like a lift back to the nearest Vanguard base?" Drake looked at Weller, weighing up his options. He could take the man up on his offer, and get away from the battlefield, or he could stay here and try to make his own way out. It was a no-brainer, really.

"Sure," Drake said. "But I would like to point out that I have no idea what the Vanguard actually is." He turned towards the transport, before looking back at the doctor. "By the way, my name is Hendricks. Spartan Drake Hendricks."

Weller looked at him oddly, almost as if he was sizing Drake up.

"Spartan, you say?" he asked. "Well, you don't look Greek to me!"