Author's Notes: Hey, sorry for the delay on this one. My college class has started up, and, to be honest, between Calculus and college applications, I lack a lot of free time. Anyway, I've got answers to a few reviews below, and then I'll go right to the chapter. For those of you who've forgotten, it's the day after the Spartan "funeral" service, and sparring is about to begin once again. Now, reviews:

Frostbyte06: I appreciate the compliment, and I know what you mean with the character issues. Like I said, it'll get easier (has it gotten any easier in the last few chapters? I've tried to focus a bit more...).

vern: I appreciate your input as well, and I'm glad the cliffhangers didn't deter anyone from reading. I honestly didn't mean to do it, but...it happens. Thank you for sticking with me.

numaman: Hmm...I know you, lol. Thanks for the compliments Luke, and in response to your questions: I will be removing several Spartans to make the story fit a bit better...if you really wanna know, you can ask me, and I'll tell you in person, but I'd rather not spoil it for everyone on here. And, regarding Zeke...yeah, he's kind of my main character. Didn't really mean it that way, but it just happened. Oh, and a final note: I can't wait to get to Plasma Grenades either...

GuardianXAngel: Thank you very much for your positive input. I'm glad the story's a hit to at least a few of you out there.

Trueshot159: Wow...your review flatters me. I think the story's OK...but I'm not sure I'd go that far. Thank you very much though, the review made my day. I hope you continue to like it as I get farther along.

AND FINALLY:

Lord of the Trees: Thanks for the comment, and I'll tell you this: this chapter you're about to read is Chapter 12: Reborn, and I'm looking at getting them their first taste of the Covenant by Chapter 18, at the VERY latest. It will likely be in 4 or 5 more chapters, but no guarantees. I will tell you that, after only one or two more chapters, I'm hitting October 20th (for those of you who know Halo, you know that that's the day the Covenant first landed on Earth), 2552. And, in regards to your question on the Master Chief: he's about the best character in the world, but I won't be incorporating him too much into my story because, really, his personality is very difficult to judge. It's much easier and less risky when working with my characters, because I know how they'd react in a scenario. The Master Chief...I risk misjudging his reaction to something and offending my readers. I'm sure you understand. He will make an appearance or two, however.

NOW, to the chapter!

Chapter 12:

- Reborn -

0800 Hours - April 26, 2552

Zulu Training Ground - Sparring Cage

Christopher could feel his palms sweating as Stephanie stared him down from the far side of the cage. They'd been selected to fight first, and in truth, Chris couldn't wait. After three weeks of doing nothing, it almost hurt to wait for the Marine outside to yell "Go!"

Suddenly, the Marine's mouth began to move and he felt his entire body tense. Before the word could even leave the man's mouth, Chris darted in Stephanie's direction, instantly hitting 30 km/h. By the time he was half-way to her, he was topping 45 km/h.

Seconds later, he was lunging at her with a series of fast, crisp kicks and strikes. Each time he reached out, he felt her arms and legs block his strikes, and she sent more than a few at him as well. Nothing felt any different, but Chris knew the truth: the two of them were actually fighting at speeds a normal human would have trouble keeping up with, with their reaction times being over three times that of a non-augmented, normal soldier.

Not too bad, he thought, completely impressed by how much Stephanie had improved. No longer was she a whiny teenage girl; she was full grown super-human – a Spartan – and it was impossible to deny her newfound power and agility.

CRACK!

Christopher felt her left foot connect with his shoulder, sending him spiraling several meters away from her, only stopping when he hit a bar on the side of the cage. He rubbed his shoulder for a moment, checking for broken bones, and realized that there weren't any. As the pain subsided, he recalled the details of one of their augmentations:

"The carbide ceramic ossification is a complex procedure that will, in essence, graft solid material onto your bones, making them virtually indestructible." The Corporal had explained the process to them, careful to leave out any of the possible side-effects.

Damn right, he thought as he stood back up, completely unharmed by a blow that would've crippled or killed a normal soldier.

"Break anything?" Stephanie mocked, stepping slowly closer.

"No," Chris answered smugly, "but I'll be sure to ask you in just a second!"

He charged her again and watched closely for her reaction. Both her arms rose to protect her chest and face, and her right leg took a step back, allowing her to block with the left.

Too easy, he thought.

When he was only a meter from her, he yelled "incoming!" and made a mock-strike at her right side. As expected, she pulled her left knee over to block it. The second the movement started, however, Chris actually grabbed her kneecap and spun his right leg into her defenseless ribcage. She made an almost-inaudible noise as the force of the strike knocked her into the cage bars.

"Not…not bad," she said as she pulled herself up, seeming unharmed. "But what're you gonna do now that I know to watch that side?"

Chris frowned. Good question, he thought.

Come on, Ezekiel thought impatiently, hurry up and finish so someone else can get a workout…namely me. For three weeks he'd been waiting for this, and now it seemed like he'd never get his shot.

Zeke watched calmly as the two Spartans inside the cage continued to go at it like super-human ninjas from an old movie. One would punch, the other block. One would kick, the other would dodge. While over a dozen Marines who had gathered to watch had to work just to catch glimpses of their fight, Zeke, with his augmented sight and hearing, actually found it to be very boring.

He looked over at the other Spartans. Blaine was watching intently, and so was Samuel. Magnus' thoughts were clearly elsewhere, as he was looking at the cage, but his eyes never moved. Victoria had a look on her face Zeke recognized from a mirror: she too wanted to fight. Jason and Landon were watching the fight, but were also humming an annoying tune Ezekiel didn't recognize in the slightest.

Finally, Zeke glanced back at the cage, just in time to watch Stephanie make her first – and last – mistake.

She threw a punch at her Spartan opponent's chest, but he dodged at the last possible second, and she was left with her hand hanging in the air. She let it hang half a second too long, and Christopher grabbed her forearm and twisted it behind her back.

To the Marine's watching, it would've looked more like flashes or photos than an actual fight. One second, one glance, she's punching and kicking. The next, she's pinned to the ground with her hand twisted up by her neck.

"Alright, that's enough!" The Marine yelled from outside, throwing open the door of the cage. "Next two are Magnus and Blaine."

"Damn it," Ezekiel cursed under his breath. He wanted his name called.

He watched angrily as Chris helped Stephanie to her feet, and they walked silently out of the cage. Seconds later, Magnus led Blaine inside, and they were staring one-another down, just as the two before them had done.

"Come on," Zeke said, tapping his foot subconsciously, "hurry up."

The Marine yelled "Go!" and Blaine watched as Magnus cracked his knuckles loudly.

"Damn, he's big." He mumbled to himself as the other Spartan started to walk toward him. Even after augmentation, the only Spartan to rival Magnus in size was Samuel, and he too was slightly smaller.

As the older Spartan got closer, Blaine tried hard to control himself. Still, after seven years of training and work, his temper was still there. It was contained, "caged," but not destroyed. He'd just grown better at controlling himself.

"Alright Blaine," Magnus said loudly, stopping just outside of arms-reach. "I hope you're actually going to fight this time, none of this 'control your temper' crap."

Blaine felt his heart quicken. Magnus wanted a real fight. He wanted to see Blaine's temper in action. I've never really tried, he thought, remembering that the last time he let his temper show, he nearly killed Jordan Hawks.

As a Spartan, he'd been taught how to deal with daily scenarios. Enemies were to be neutralized without mercy. Teammates and fellow soldiers were to be respected and valued as allies. Superior officers were to be obeyed, almost completely regardless to the situation.

And, normally, Magnus was a teammate. He was an ally. But now, in the cage, what was he? Was he to be neutralized like any other enemy?

The older Spartan must have somehow sensed Blaine's internal struggle, because he suddenly cocked his head and laughed. "This time," he said, "within the bounds of the cage, we're enemies." He looked Blaine dead in the eye. "Treat me like one."

That was what he needed to hear. Enemy, he thought. Blaine glanced outside the cage, to the Marine supervising. The man nodded calmly.

Blaine nodded as well, but as he started to turn his head back toward Magnus, he felt his opponent's right fist crash into his cheek, sending him skidding across the floor.

Before he could move, Magnus was on him, picking him up by the collar of his shirt and throwing him into the cage wall. A second later, Blaine felt himself being lifted by the arm, and then was weightless for a time as he was flung into the opposite wall of the cage.

He hit, and felt the bars bend before falling to the ground.

Magnus dashed again, this time grabbing Blaine by the hair and starting to spin, preparing the longest toss he could manage. Deep inside, he wondered why he was so cruel, so efficient, even against his fellow Spartans inside the bounds of the cage. Instantly, he pushed the thought out. It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting a job done.

And right now, his job was to beat Blaine.

Finally, he let go of his fellow soldier mid-spin, and was shocked to realize that two hands were gripping his forearms with a death-grip. Blaine pulled himself in, closer to Magnus, raising his leg up and effectively smashing his foot into the older Spartan's stomach as he did so.

Magnus felt his legs nearly buckle as he doubled over. His training kicked in almost immediately, however, and he blocked out the pain entirely after only a few seconds.

Unfortunately, those few seconds were all Blaine needed to slam his fist into Magnus' shoulder before he could stand back up. Already off-balance, he fell to the floor, rolling several feet in an effort to put as much distance between himself and his opponent as possible. Finally, he pulled himself up, almost completely unharmed, and turned to face Blaine, staring him down once more.

"You're losing." Blaine's voice cut through the air without a hint of emotion, except perhaps for the tinge of arrogance hidden in the word "losing." Magnus frowned. Blaine had been hanging around Ezekiel for too long.

Corporal Charles pulled his whistle up to his lips. He'd been watching the fight thus far, but it had gone on long enough. Both Spartans were in fine, physically, but they were breathing hard. Neither one was used to his augmented body yet; and there wasn't any reason to be testing their limits after only a few weeks of nothing but bed-rest.

Simply put, he couldn't risk, after all they'd been through, the possibility of one of them being seriously injured in a mock fight. He made up his mind, and blew the whistle loudly.

Immediately, all nineteen Spartans turned and saluted, stopping whatever they were doing without a second thought. They all stood at attention, waiting for him.

"At ease," he said. Then he turned to the two in the cage. "Magnus," he yelled, "Blaine, that's enough for today. You guys get out here and get yourselves a drink. With the augmentations only a few weeks ago, your risk for dehydration and health complications is still high."

Both Spartans nodded and, without a word, left the cage at a slow pace. Charles couldn't believe how fluid – how natural – their actions were, so soon after going all-out in a sparring match.

During the fight, he'd scarcely been able to register their movements, much less actually see them. They attacked and dodged with such speed and efficiency, it was impossible to imagine a normal human being in combat with them. A Marine, no matter how well trained, wouldn't even see the shots coming; only feel the bones as they broke one after another.

It was then that he realized the truth: the augmentations had truly worked. And they were worth every second of torment, every scream of pain. The trainees – the Spartans – were something new now. They weren't seven-year Marines. Hell, they were barely human anymore. They were another breed, evolved and engineered specifically to end the war with the Covenant. They were bred to finish the fight.

Spartans, he thought, watching them, incredible.