In the armory, the Spartans prepared for their coming trial. The Centurions had only arrived less than 24 hours prior, but the Commander was wasting no time; he wanted to know how this team of veteran soldiers would perform compared to XCOM's current top squad. At the crack of dawn, the Rhinos and Jackals had set up the area outside the Avenger for the competitive match. It had been decided that a test against either of these teams would be unnecessary unless the Centurions proved to be substantially worse than the Spartans, which was extremely unlikely.
Leonidas wrestled with his axes to fit specialized caps over the blades, turning them into blunt training weapons for the purposes of this exercise, while leaving their weight and balance more or less unchanged. Due to the sharpness of the blade and the force that the ranger was able to put into each swing, the cap's main support came from an arm reaching back to the neck of the axe, preventing it from being cut in half after repeated strikes- and from being installed and uninstalled easily. They also had rubberized material along the "sharp" section to minimize injury and increase impact resistance. "Remind me why I asked Shen for these stupid edge-covers instead of a hardcase sheath or something?" he fumed as he struggled with the attachments.
"Minimal extra weight," Eagle responded while inspecting his bolt caster, "Which is also why they're made from carbon fiber. Which, might I add, was a nice gesture on Shen's part; that stuff isn't exactly easy to come by for us."
Leonidas managed to force the cap into place with a satisfying click. "Finally!" he sighed, "One down, one to go."
Normally, for an exercise like this, the teams would be issued strictly standard equipment. However, given the circumstances, both competing squads were allowed to utilize whatever gear that they were accustomed to. The Spartans were used to their unique weapons and armor, and without enough time to reacclimate to standard armaments, they would be at an unfair disadvantage, seeing as the Centurions were already attuned to the use of such equipment. In addition, the XCOM veterans had psionics at their disposal; the difference in combat gear helped level the playing field by ensuring that both teams had their own unique advantage. It was far from perfect, but it was better than nothing.
The Spartan leader had initially debated whether or not he should wear the Serpent Suit, since he didn't have much real experience with it yet, but had eventually decided to don the outfit in favor of his Predator armor. Even if Leonidas wasn't able to effectively employ the grapple or freezing venom, its reduced weight would allow him to be faster and more agile in battle without sacrificing protection.
Ghost squatted silently in the corner, fidgeting with the hammer on his Shadowkeeper. The Wraith was propped up against the wall next to him, already in perfect condition for the match; the sniper often cleaned and maintained his guns in his spare time, meaning that pre-mission inspections were completely redundant in Ghost's case. In fact, all of the Spartans followed this practice; Eagle only checked his exotic firearm because he had a slight obsession with the weapon. The specialist had broken many guns in the past through rough handling despite properly maintaining them, and was determined to detect and repair even the most insignificant damage to his precious weapon in order to prolong its lifespan. After all, ballistic armaments and spare parts were in no short supply on the Avenger; no big deal if one breaks. But the bolt caster was impossible to replace, meaning that Eagle would actually suffer from mild anxiety if he didn't inspect it before each use. Leonidas was brought out of his thoughts as heard another click - which meant that the second blade cover was installed successfully.
Stowing both capped axes on his back and picking up the Killforge, Leonidas couldn't help but grin at his friend's behavior. Vigilance and dedication were the backbone of the Spartans, and since Eagle's semi-obsessive habit could only have a positive long-term effect, the Spartan leader saw no reason to interfere. Personally, Leo only maintained his weapons as needed; for him, a weapon that couldn't handle as much punishment as he could wasn't worth his time. He knew that, even if everything else went as horribly as possible, the Killforge would hold fast and shoot true. The only thing that could possibly concern him was ammunition, but he always had his axes. After all, a blade didn't need reloading.
Checking his custom shell caddy, the Spartan Leader heard the door open and turned to see his serpentine friend enter the room, looking unfocused, drained, and maybe a little pale. "Christ, Alia," Leonidas commented as Robin and Defcon entered behind her, "Feeling alright over there? You look like someone made you fight an entire Lost horde, then force-fed you their entrails." Behind him, Ghost looked up and, though Leonidas couldn't see it, gave him a surprised and somewhat appalled stare.
The viper, however, was well within the view of her leader, and visibly gagged at his colorful statement. "Please," she said nauseously, "do not put such images in my mind. The thought of eating at all is enough to make my stomach churn."
"Shit," Leonidas quickly grew concerned, "Are you sure that you're up for this? I'm sure that the Commander would be willing to postpone the match until you feel better."
"I will be fine," Alia insisted, taking a deep breath, "I just need a moment."
"Tygan gave her some meds," Robin piped up, "He said that they'll take a few minutes to kick in, but Alia should be feeling better by the time we're out there."
The Spartan King nodded uncertainly. "Alright… if you say so. But if you start puking, I'm calling off the match."
"You have the authority to do that?" The rookie Spartan asked, surprised.
"Eh…" Leonidas shrugged, "That's not really relevant. If someone on either team starts having medical problems unrelated to the competition, it's only fair to call it off and redo it another day. Otherwise, the Commander can't make an accurate assessment."
"And if he doesn't agree?" Robin pressed, "What if the Commander didn't postpone?"
"I'd kick his ass," Leonidas raised his eyebrows, "Because that'd be total bullshit. I don't care if it'd be mutiny or treason; denying us a fair game and subsequent assessment would go against everything he's drilled into us from day one."
Alia retrieved her rifle and reached for her ammunition. In a flash, Ghost was up and moving. He grabbed the viper's wrist to stop her from taking the magazine. "What do you think you're doing?" The senior Spartan didn't scold her; he simply prompted the serpent to question her actions. The sniper's tone was firm but calm as he spoke: "We can't use regular munitions for this exercise; we're not looking to kill anyone. And that goes double for your venom rounds."
Eagle stood up and handed her a different magazine. "We'll be using specialized training rounds for this. We call them "buzzkill rounds". The meaner cousin of the rubber riot cartridge, these are a nonlethal variation of a hollow-point; the tip of the bullet is a thin metal shell that'll collapse and flatten on impact, preventing penetration while allowing for a higher muzzle velocity. Leonidas's shotgun uses rubber buckshot- which was hard as Hell to procure, I hear- that hits hard enough to fracture the bones in your fingers if you're too close. We use that instead of bean-bag shells because that would be like using slugs, which we don't even have, let alone actually deploy in the field. Might as well swap out the shotgun for a rifle at that point."
"In other words," Defcon said, loading her own weapon, "They hit like a truck and hurt like a bitch. The idea is that they'll force us to stop fighting when we're 'dead' by causing more pain and even some minor injuries. So, just like in the field, how many hits you can take depends on your actual endurance."
Alia hesitantly loaded a magazine filled with buzzkill rounds into her weapon. "That seems like a very loosely defined rule. Pain tolerance is very different from enduring actual wounds. I feel as though that could make things very… chaotic."
"Welcome to the jungle," Leonidas said, loading his shotgun, "Where the law is defined by the word of the strong, and the Spartans are sent to enforce it."
…
Spartan squad walked down the Avenger's ramp into the sunlight, the crisp morning air welcoming them with a cold embrace. The Centurions were already waiting near the center of the makeshift arena. Crates, large pieces of scrap metal, and many solid items from the surrounding area such as rocks and logs were arranged to create covered positions and lines of sight, similarly to when Alia had been tested during her first days as an XCOM operative. However, the different location provided a new tactical setting. The ground was mostly flat, with the artificial obstacles set in a clearing surrounded by trees. There was no real high ground, but the abundant cover and relatively long firing lines made up for this.
Leonidas glanced quickly at Alia, who kept pace beside him. She seemed to be in much better condition than before, though the low temperature was obviously preventing her from being anything close to comfortable. "How're you feeling?" He asked, wanting to give the viper one last chance to back out.
"Cold," Alia answered simply. For a moment, the Spartan officer thought that he would need to clarify the meaning of his question, but then she added: "My nausea is gone. I have a slight headache, but I am prepared to endure."
"Tygan didn't give you anything for that?" Leonidas inquired. The Doctor had checked up on the serpent just before they had headed outside to ensure that she wasn't having any adverse reactions to the nausea remedies.
She shook her head, "This only developed a moment ago. Besides, painkillers would provide an unfair advantage in this contest."
The Spartan King nodded. He would have to trust that the viper knew her limits and that she could accurately judge her own state of well-being. Normally, Leonidas would be extremely hesitant to let a Spartan deploy while apparently sick, but he consoled himself with the fact that this was a rare occasion where they could just try again at a later date. If nothing else, this would prove whether or not the Spartan leader could take his alien squadmate at her word on such things in the future. Leonidas wasn't worried that Alia was lying to him; he was concerned that she might be lying to herself.
Once they reached the course, the Spartans silently greeted the Centurions, and both teams took up positions on opposite sides of the arena. After a moment, the Commander fired a shot into the air- the signal to begin. Leonidas issued a few quick orders: "Defcon, Eagle, flank right and dig in; force them to divide their attention. Robin, go with them, but keep your distance; get too close, and these assholes will chew you up. Ghost, you have total freedom; go do your thing. Alia, with me; let's show these Centurions how it's done!"
The response was immediate. Defcon, Eagle and Robin broke right and sprinted forward, looking for a covered position that would be suitable for a prolonged firefight. Ghost split from the group and made his way toward the left flank to find a good spot that gave him longer lines of sight. Leonidas and Alia rushed forward, taking the center of the field. The Spartan leader was much faster than his companion, speeding forward through the various obstacles, vaulting over anything short enough and dodging around the rest. He stopped in front of a large overturned tree, spotting two of the Centurions ahead, and dropped into cover. Alia appeared beside him moments later.
Leonidas nodded, and his serpentine subordinate peeked over the log and took aim. She only took a fraction of a second to acquire her target before pulling the trigger, sending a three-round burst across the battlefield and marking the first shots of the skirmish. The bullets found their target, striking the Centurion in the chest before they could take cover. To the Spartan King's surprise, the woman barely reacted to the impact, as if she hardly felt the intense pain that the buzzkill rounds were meant to cause.
He was relieved to hear the sounds of heavy gunfire coming from the right; the other Spartans had successfully pushed up, and were forcing the opposite team to focus on two threats simultaneously. Leonidas and Alia continued their own firefight for a short while, though the viper was able to do far more damage; the Killforge struggled at longer distances, making it difficult for the weapon to have any meaningful effect compared to Alia's custom rifle.
Just then, a voice came over comms: "A little help over here!?" Both of them turned to see Ghost desperately scrambling for cover as Titus charged him. Haze, whom the Spartan sharpshooter had been dueling with until now, followed closely behind her leader, looking for an opportunity to get a shot on her foe. Leonidas turned to Alia, who nodded; she could hold her own here. He needed to help Ghost.
The young super-soldier ran like a bat out of Hell, closing the fifteen-meter gap between him and Titus in mere seconds. Firing the Killforge at the rival leader, Leonidas drew attention to himself and away from Ghost, who was able to use the distraction to escape and disappear. There was no doubt that he was going to reposition himself and rejoin the fight, but that would take precious time. Time that Leonidas would have to give him by fighting two-to-one until the sharpshooter was ready. Everything was happening extremely quickly, but he had always had a knack for keeping up with the pace of a skirmish.
As the Killforge fired its last shell, the Spartan swapped to his axes with practiced swiftness. Faced with two opponents, both of whom were largely unknown quantities, he had to choose his strategy carefully to gain every possible advantage. While it was safe to assume that Titus would be a challenging melee combatant, Haze would probably be out of her comfort zone in CQC. This, combined with the fact that Leonidas had two axes- potentially enabling him to essentially fight both Centurions at once- meant that a melee engagement gave him the highest chance of success. Or, at the very least, would allow him to hold out long enough for Ghost to intervene.
Titus turned and attempted to shoot the charging Spartan, but his shotgun only responded with a click. He quickly drew his sword and dropped into a ready stance, just in time to counter the Spartan King's rush. The two rangers engaged in a ferocious duel, fighting at an eye-watering pace in a whirlwind of metal and muscle. Titus swung his sword in a tight arc at waist level, and Leonidas seamlessly parried with one axe while bringing the other down on the Centurion's shoulder. The older man blocked with his forearm, using his armored bracer like an impromptu buckler. The rivals went back and forth, neither man able to outmaneuver the other, their skills apparently equal. Even when Titus drove his sword forward with both hands in a powerful slash, Leonidas readily parried the attack one-handed. And despite the opening that this made, the Centurion was still able to successfully counter when the Spartan retaliated with his second axe.
Their duel only lasted for a few seconds, during which dozens of attacks were exchanged and subsequently countered. Titus seemed surprised at the younger man's skill and intensity, as Leonidas carried out the entire fight with an expression of steely determination. He fought with lightning-fast reflexes and confidence that only comes from training and experience. The Centurion officer, like many others, had underestimated Leonidas because of his young age, and was now learning why that was a bad idea. It was a lesson that nobody ever had to be taught twice.
The two rangers finally broke apart when Haze intervened on the part of her leader, easily flanking the Spartan King and attacking with a modified taser that served as a knife for the purpose of this competition. In response, Leonidas lunged at the marksman and knocked her back with a shoulder. In his years of CQC training, the young super-soldier had learned that, when faced with the instantaneous choice of how to react to an imminent attack, it was best to be braver than his opponent expected. This principle held true now, as Haze was knocked backwards by the unexpected counterattack. However, she expertly caught herself, reverse-somersaulting and quickly regaining her balance.
The Spartan King kept up the aggression, closing the distance to the Centurion marksman to re-engage in melee combat. In a fluid motion reminiscent of a predatory cat, Haze pounced with her knife, aiming to stab his abdomen. Without delay, Leonidas easily countered, pushing the weapon aside with his axe before dropping down slightly to pin her forearm between his elbow and ribcage, clamping down and keeping the woman locked in place. The super-soldier then gripped her arm and twisted hard in a move designed to cause intense pain but inflict minimal damage. However, the marksman prevented this by flipping into the air and spinning so that her body followed her twisting arm- and retaliated, kicking with both legs and striking the Spartan in the chest, freeing herself and staggering her opponent. He quickly recovered, but she recovered faster.
Haze leapt into a whirling kick, aiming her heel at the young man's jaw. Leonidas dodged backwards, and time seemed to slow as the Centurion's boot swung mere centimeters from his face. From the heel of the boot protruded a spring-loaded blade that came dangerously close to slashing the officer's neck. Simultaneously, Titus cowardly brought his sword down on the Spartan leader from behind, but the sword was ruthlessly swatted from the larger man's grasp by a swift strike of an axe.
Leonidas was no longer fighting to win; his primal instincts had been triggered. He was fighting for his life.
The Spartan King had an interesting reaction to desperate situations. Since he was a boy, Leonidas had tried to learn a way to trigger it manually, but never could. In fact, it had been years since something had activated this reflex. When the young super-soldier had no one else to rely on, and even the slightest mistake could spell certain death, his mind kicked into overdrive. The Spartan's senses became heightened, his thoughts became hyper-focused, and every muscle worked with the single-minded precision of a man with everything to lose but nothing to fear. There was no anger, no fear or desperation; only him and death, locked once again in close quarters combat, as was common in Leonidas's love-hate relationship with the Grim Reaper. In this state, he could only win, because he couldn't afford to lose.
Whether or not his life was actually in danger was no longer relevant; it was like he was in a trance, and the only way to snap him out of it was to neutralize the imminent threat with brutal efficiency. In their shared childhood, Moose had found himself on the receiving end of this frighteningly calm ferocity several times before learning that bullying the younger boy with anything other than words was a horrible idea. The only way to get out unscathed was to run, and even that didn't guarantee anything; Leonidas had always had a reputation for being a fast runner.
But neither Titus nor Haze had any intent of running, since they had no idea what kind of beast they had just unleashed. The Centurion leader was visibly caught off-guard by the Spartan's sharp increase in aggression, but was otherwise unfazed. Trying to catch the rival ranger off-guard, Haze attempted to attack him from behind, but Leonidas turned his body and kicked with his right leg, throwing his foot directly at her chest. This forced the marksman to change course abruptly in order to avoid the blow, preventing her from getting close enough to land an attack.
Titus took advantage of the moment to grab the Spartan King and pin his arms while lifting him bodily into the air. Unbeknownst to him, this was something that Moose had done to Leonidas many times in the past, and was enough to evoke a strong reaction from him under normal circumstances. But these weren't normal circumstances; with the Spartan's brain already devoted to near-perfect CQC, he wouldn't even need time to process what was happening. As soon as his boots left the ground, Leonidas swung his legs out and backwards, placing his feet behind Centurion's calves. He then pulled his legs forward while folding at the waist. The Spartan King was not a particularly flexible or graceful man, but he didn't need to be when he had speed, strength and endurance on his side.
The Centurion was once again caught by surprise, and ended up releasing Leonidas only after his back slammed into the ground under their combined weight. The younger ranger rolled off and sprang to his feet, quickly aiming a football kick at his opponent's head. Titus was unable to get out of the way, and the Spartan's armored boot collided forcefully with his skull. A few meters away, in an effort to defend her leader, Haze drew her marksman rifle, dropped to one knee and lined up her crosshairs on Leonidas's head.
The Spartan King heard the faint sound of the weapon clicking and rattling slightly as it was raised. In one fluid motion, he turned and hurled one of his axes, striking the Centurion marksman in the face and causing her to fire reflexively. The shot hit him just below his left eye, causing pain to blossom in his head and lance down his spine. Later, the Spartan leader would be strangely thankful that he had chosen to adhere to the rules and not to wear his aviators; they surely would have shattered otherwise. This was why the operatives were given ballistic glasses for these exercises; without them, if the shot had been just a little higher, the Spartan King would have been lucky if his eye was the only thing that he lost.
Presently, Leonidas stumbled backwards as his nervous system furiously scrambled to process what was happening to him. He ripped the fractured goggles off of his face as warm blood began to pour from fresh facial wounds. The super-soldier's left eye was rendered functionally blind by the crimson fluid, and somewhere in his mind, he knew that he would have a scar to complement what was definitely a skull fracture and- based on the sensation of vertigo and difficulty focusing- a concussion. Normally, Leonidas would have slipped into a rage-state and gone completely berzerk, but instead the Spartan officer simply grunted defiantly and broke into a run, charging directly at Haze and causing the blood to streak across his face. As he approached, the Centurion leapt up from her kneeling position and quickly retreated, artfully dodging as the young ranger repeatedly fired his shotgun. Despite her best efforts, some of the pellets connected, making Haze understand how insanely difficult it was to avoid a well-aimed shotgun blast, let alone multiple.
The Spartan King turned at the sound of running footsteps approaching from behind to discover that Titus was on his feet again and charging with a shotgun of his own. Leonidas braced himself, not knowing what he was going to do to counter this attack- the Killforge was dry, and even the custom equipment did not allow him to reload that fast. He had just proven that a shotgun rush was nearly impossible to avoid, and he wasn't nearly as nimble as Haze, so escape wasn't an option. Reaching back and gripping his axe, the Spartan made the split-second decision to stand his ground and meet the Centurion ranger's aggression in kind.
There was a sudden whip-like crack as the Wraith announced Ghost's re-entry into the game. Titus stumbled and nearly fell forward as the high-caliber buzzkill round slammed against the back of his head. Leonidas, focused as he was, wasted no time figuring out who had fired the shot. Jamming a shell into the Killforge's empty chamber, he blasted the Centurion in the chest from point-blank range, halting the larger man in his tracks.
"I've got you covered, One!" Ghost said over comms, "Kick his ass!"
"Copy, Two," Leonidas responded quickly, "I've got this; you take Haze."
Taking advantage of the momentary lull, the Spartan leader quickly reloaded his shotgun while putting a solid kick into Titus's solar plexus before the Centurion had time to recover from being shot twice. Using his right hand as a pivot and his left as the primary driving force, Leonidas twisted his gun around and snapped his right arm up while pulling down with his left, striking Titus in the jaw with the butt of the Killforge. The Spartan King then drew his remaining axe with one hand and swung hard at his opponent's head, striking him hard in the temple and sending him to the dirt, unconscious.
No sooner had Titus fallen, did Leonidas hear a sound that made his stomach flip: on comms, Alia tried to say something, but was cut off before he could make it out, and immediately after, he could faintly hear her choking. The Spartan King, his self-preservation instinct having subsided, whipped around to see what he didn't want to believe was happening: Turris, the Centurions' massive heavy weapons specialist, was holding Alia by the neck with one hand, lifting her into the air and watching indifferently as his death grip almost entirely cut off her ability to breathe. The viper's tail thrashed about on the ground, trying to somehow attack Turris, but only managing to flail wildly and cause no damage to the brute.
The Kingslayer's eyes narrowed as a fiery rage roared to life within him. In an instant, his mind was thrown into an entirely different combat mode. No longer did he need to survive; now he needed to kill. Something clicked in his subconscious, and, without thinking, Leonidas fired his grappling hook at the hulking Centurion as he sprinted forward. The grapple latched onto the heavy gunner's armor before sending a bolt of freezing chemicals down the specialized line. Turris was immediately encased in ice, the process of which Leonidas would never understand, nor would he try to.
The next moment, the solidified compound around the heavy gunner's arm was shattered by the impact of the Spartan King's axe, forcing Turris to release Alia as the blow to his elbow threatened to bend it at an unnatural angle. Leonidas leapt into the air and swung down hard at the Centurion's neck, no longer caring about whether or not his attacks would cause permanent damage. The brute broke free of the ice just in time to reach out and grab the super-soldier's arm and pull violently, nearly dislocating the Spartan's shoulder and sending him tumbling to the ground. Leonidas came to rest on his back, and before he could recover, Turris was literally on top of him; the Centurion raised one massive foot and brought it down on the prone warrior's chest.
Leonidas gripped the gargantuan man's boot with both hands, eyes widening as Turris drew a Desert Eagle and aimed it at his head. There was a moment of stomach-turning tension, then the Centurion pulled the trigger- to be met with the strangled click of a weapon jam. With obvious frustration, he racked the slide and tried again, only to have the pistol fail once more. Apparently deciding that it wasn't worth the trouble, Turris rammed the gun back into its holster with a grunt and began to apply more pressure with his foot. Leonidas growled with exertion as he fought to avoid being crushed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the young Spartan officer recognized that, given how much effort was required to hold the Centurion's foot aloft, Turris was pressing down with enough force to crush his ribcage like a tin can in a hydraulic press.
Just as the heavy gunner began to overpower Leonidas, the signal came over everyone's comms: "All units, stand down! Stop the exercise!" It was the Commander; something had gone wrong. Despite this, Turris continued to press down on the Spartan King, who risked a quick glance around to figure out what was happening. The first thing that he saw was Alia, lying unconscious mere meters away in a puddle of her own vomit. Then he saw a medical team sprinting toward them with the Jackals in tow. The Rhinos were also present, but they weren't nearly as fleet-footed as the others.
"Get… off… me!" Leonidas grunted as he was forced to wonder what it would feel like to have his organs smashed into gorey paste.
Luckily, the Jackals had come out with the goal of helping him. Voodoo came at the huge Centurion from behind, swinging a stun lance like a baseball bat into the small of his back, shouting: "Show's over, meathead!" The attack successfully knocked Turris off-balance, allowing Leonidas to push him off and roll away before scrambling to his feet and rushing over to Alia.
"Don't be so hard on the guy," Moose criticized as he approached, "Sometimes you get so focused on winning that you miss what's being said."
"I'll ignore how utterly stupid that statement is," the Jackal leader snapped, "and point out that there was no outcome here in which Leonidas walks away in one piece. This was meant to be strictly non-lethal, and permanent damage was supposed to be avoided."
Turris said nothing to defend his actions, maintaining his stony silence. He lumbered away without so much as a passing glance at the Spartan leader, apparently completely dispassionate about what was going on around him. A couple of the crew began to approach the brute- no doubt to demand an explanation- but hastily retreated as he stared them down. They were as scared of him as they were of the Spartan King- maybe even more so. While Moose's explanation was somewhat plausible, it didn't address Kelly's other point: crushing the ranger in such a fashion would have been lethal. Even in his life-or-death combat mode, the Spartan King had remembered the rules and had refrained from any deliberately deadly attacks. While the two other squad leaders argued, Leonidas helped the medical team lift Alia's unconscious body onto a stretcher and carry her to the Avenger.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened: whatever affliction Alia had been suffering from, being choked had somehow undone what Tygan's medicine had accomplished and caused the viper's body to react violently. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Leonidas noted that, until now, he hadn't known that vipers were able to vomit. Then again, he had never committed any thought to it.
As he rushed up the ramp into the ship, Leonidas was so preoccupied with his concern for Alia that he didn't think about his own near-death experiences during the test. It was only when the viper was safely in the infirmary, and the Spartan leader was able to step back and think over the events once again, did he come to the grim realization that the Centurions had nearly killed him twice in addition to endangering Alia.
Watching the doctors examining the serpent, he silently promised to himself to keep a close eye on the Centurions, especially when the Spartan viper was around. There was a slight chance that these were all legitimate mistakes, but Occam's Razor supported the idea that these veterans had ulterior motives and much darker goals than they were letting on.
Understanding that he would be nothing but an obstacle in the medbay after having his own wounds swiftly treated, the young ranger whispered: "Good luck, Alia," and left to check on the other Spartans. Things were taking a sudden and hard turn for the worse, and it was abundantly clear that he couldn't trust anyone. Anyone, that is, except his team- his family.
A/N: Back from the dead! This took me way longer than it should have, but it's finally here. I hope it was worth the wait!
Regrettably, it will be a while until the next chapter comes, since I'm now working full-time again and dealing with 40 to 60 hours a week, and I'm still working on the rework of chapters 1-8... Speaking of which, the next update is going to be said reworks, so I'm going to buckle down and get those done ASAP. It's taken long enough! In the meantime, I'm working with some other authors to make a Discord server centered around XCOM Fanfiction, so if you want more reliable communication with me on my progress, to discuss with others about stories (including this one), or just want to discover those other stories and their authors, use the invite link to join! I'm really bad at pitching stuff like this... but seriously, this server is pretty great, and I'd love to chat with y'all in a more casual capacity.
https/discord.gg/a5F2ewcmsA
Also, it's been over a year since Tipping the Scales made its debut! Time really flies, doesn't it? And I'm not even close to done yet!
As always, have fun and stay safe out there! -VV