Onyx

Camp Currahee, Physical Training Course #43

1031 Local Time, August 21st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar

The first few weeks of Ben's training were brutal. Most of his time was spent with the other Cadets in class or doing intensive physical training, it seemed like they did everything as part of a group. But as time went by, things were steadily getting easier as he got more familiar with military protocol and traditions, like acknowledging your orders vocally, and not speaking unless spoken to. He also began to understand exactly why it was so important, promoting clear communication and discipline. His body also began to harden under the rigorous exercise, which was gradually becoming easier.

He spoke with Richard at least once a day. Most of the time he would answer whatever questions that he had about what Ben was doing or being told, although Richard was far from Ben's only instructor, and he still had many other duties on top of training Ben. Richard turned out to be surprisingly empathetic and friendly, which gave Ben a sense of respect for him.

For the most part, Ben did as he was told, as any vocal dissent was commonly met with brutal punishment. Crucially, his instructors explained why he was wrong, which he almost always was in some manner. Despite his occasional failures, he found himself doing fairly well compared to some of the other recruits, and unlike some of the other students, he excelled in the academic courses.

By far the most interesting subject to him they learned about in class was the Spartan II's. Unlike him, they had no choice when it came to being soldiers, but by the end of their training, they were dedicated to what they were doing. Apparently they were truly humanities best, even above the Spartan III's in terms of their sheer combat prowess. The recruits were given access to declassified reports on what the Spartan 2's had achieved throughout their careers, and their track record was very impressive. Part of him wished he had been born a couple decades earlier, so that he could've been among them, but he was content with being second best.

Currently, he was taking part in a training exercise along with a team of other recruits. Their goal was to carry a small flag to the end of an obstacle course, a deceptively simple goal. The actual point of the course was learning to maneuver while under fire, which the Instructors enforced by firing on any clumsy or reckless recruits with their guns. The training rounds they fired were far from lethal, but the crystallizing paint they carried was designed to freeze the target in place, and they stung like hell when they hit.

"Come on, get up!" Ben yelled at his remaining teammate, who was sitting in the same crater as Ben, crying from a series of training rounds that had practically paralyzed his midsection.

"I can't!" He cried back. "I can't move!"

"We have a mission to complete!" Ben shouted back.

While Ben empathized with his teammate's painful predicament, he also realized that the Cadet wasn't going to be able to keep moving. One last time Ben tried to pull his teammate to his feet, but the recruit didn't budge.

"Fine, I'll finish the mission myself!" Ben said, his voice rich with frustration.

He stuck his head out of the crater to get his bearings, and narrowly dodged a training paint round as he tucked his head back in. Several more rapidly decorated the edge of the crater, giving him a firm warning to not try it again. Fleck of paint flew into his hair, although with how much had been shaved off of his head, he now had more mud and paint on his head than any of his natural brown hair.

Well, I'm stuck. Ben thought. A solution isn't going to come to me, I need to think of something.

His thinking was interrupted when a grenade landed in the dirt right in front of him, before rolling down the crater and onto his head. Thinking fast, Ben caught it as it bounced off of his forehead, before harshly tossing it roughly in the instructor's direction. The grenade exploded seconds later, and Ben heard screaming from the instructor's position as bits of rapidly-hardening paint flew through the sky.

Huh, I guess that works. Ben thought as he crawled out of the crater and continued making his way through the course with the flag.

After only a couple meters he was struck by a ricocheting round that exploded on his shoulder. The force knocked him face-down into the mud, but he climbed back to his knees, before grabbing the flag with the arm that could still move, while ignoring the painful feeling from his now-rigid shoulder.

He and his team had already progressed most of the course, and only one last obstacle stood in his way, a field covered in razor wire. The wire was raised by a series of wooden supports, offering barely enough room to crawl under it. He dropped into a prone position and grabbed the flag between his teeth, he would need his remaining arm to be free to crawl safely.

He nudged forward, trying to ignore the mud that got into his mouth. His uniform got snagged onto the barbed wire, which he managed to free, but tore his uniform in the process. He persisted onwards, trying to avoid the densest clusters of the wiring.

One final obstacle came in the form of another stray training round, which struck him in the back, and knocked the wind out of him. Ben pressed himself as flat as he could, before allowing himself a moment to rest and catch his breath. One he had, he pushed onwards, slowed even further by his newly-reduced maneuverability.

He finally crawled out of the barbed wire, roughly got to his feet, and inelegantly affixed the flag to the target pole. A whistle sounded, signifying the exercise was over. Ben let out a sigh of relief, it was over.

As all of the kids got back together at the start of the course, and those who were encased in training paint were liberated by the Instructors, Ben was approached by Mendez.

"Hold still!" Mendez shouted, before spraying Ben down with a jet of ice-cold water. He gave a cry of surprise as Mendez blasted the mud and paint off, along with a bit of blood and ample amounts of sweat. Once Mendez had finished, he sprayed Ben one last time in the face. "My mistake Cadet, I thought you had something on your face, turns out it was skin."

Bastard. Ben bitterly thought, although at least Mendez seemed to find something to hate in everything.

"Goddamn Cadet, I had the common decency to give you a uniform, and look what you've done to it!" Mendez shouted, once he got a look at Ben's uniform. "Not only that, but I think you're missing something critical to the mission! Identify what you're missing here, Cadet!"

Ben thought for a minute, but couldn't figure out what he was referencing. "I don't know, Sir!"

Mendez sprayed him again, right in the gut, causing him to double over. Ben was already drenched, but now he was freezing. "Your teammate, Cadet! Although I will admit, it was hard to find them under all the dirt and paint that you left them buried under!"

Ben recognized the false impression that Mendez wanted a response. He had already learned the hard way that if Mendez wanted you to speak, he would tell you too.

Mendez glared at him stubbornly. "What went through your mind as you put that flag into the ground, Cadet?!"

"I completed the mission, Sir!" Ben replied.

"At what cost recruit?" Mendez angrily asked. "If this were on the battlefield, you would have just left a Spartan in the dirt to die, and that is not what any soldier should do, let alone a Spartan! Now, I want you to sprint down to the bottom of the hill, and sprint your way back up. Once that's done, exchange your uniform and head for class!"

That's about two kilometers. Ben realized, dreading the long walk up the hill while already exhausted. "Sir yes Sir!"

As he ran, he came to a realization. Every lesson he had done so far had a lesson, which was deliberately and clearly explained to every participating recruit, often while they were still covered in mud and sweat. This time had been different, Mendez had told him what he did wrong, and left him to run, which left him with a question.

What was I supposed to do in that situation? Ben thought.

Camp Currahee

1240 Local Time, August 21st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar

You know, for a Drill Instructor, I sure spend a lot of time on my ass. Richard thought, as he waited for Lieutenant Commander Ambrose to be finished with his meeting. He still didn't regret making the decision to become an Instructor, as it was a hell of a lot better than his back-end desk job at ONI. Working with Ben was also more productive than shredding the paperwork of some other Spook's wet work. Although his other duties meant that he still had plenty to do.

Richard found the kid to be a lot more tolerable than he would've thought otherwise, probably because he demonstrated a surprising amount of critical thinking, albeit accompanied by some lapses in logic that were inherent in most children. Richard found himself making mental comparisons between the children and the other Instructors quite frequently, as they tended to behave similarly. But with all of humanity's best on the frontline, it wasn't surprising that so many of the Spartan's trainers were a bit past their prime.

None of the other Instructors seemed horribly bothered by what they were doing. He didn't find the morality of the whole program much of an issue himself, which made him worry if he was starting to get numb to ONI's doings.

That's why you transferred out, that's why you're here now, we're done with that. Richard thought as he kicked his memories into the deepest recesses of his mind. Maybe there's a reason that all of the other Instructors drink so much...

He forced himself to move on, to focus on the task at hand, before remembering that he had none. Kurt hadn't even made it clear what it was that he wanted to discuss, although it wasn't hard to guess he wanted to discuss Ben's training. In Richard's opinion, the kid was doing well, certainly better than some of the other Cadets, although he wasn't without his faults.

Firstly, he seemed to take orders a bit too literally, and not realize his own physical limitations. But far more problematic was his performance in team exercises. He would frequently miss the point of the 'team' in team exercises, and go off on his own. Frequently he would complete the mission, but at costs deemed unacceptable.

But the thing that Richard found most interesting about Ben was his dedication. He'd only been part of the program for a couple of weeks, and already he explained to Richard that he felt more at home then anywhere else he'd been. His loyalty was unquestionable, and the only times he ever disagreed with his instructors was when he thought they were being inefficient or simply mistaken, which the Instructors didn't take horribly kindly too.

It's a little weird how well he's settling in, even if he's got a bit of maturity to him, he's still a kid. Richard thought, before the door to Kurt's office opened and an Army Colonel he didn't recognize walked out of the room.

"We'll have to continue this debate later, I'm ten minutes late for another meeting, farewell Lieutenant Ambrose." The man said to Kurt, before continuing down the hallway.

"Come in, Instructor." Kurt said once the man had left.

Richard took a seat before the man, the Lieutenant was still something of an enigma to Richard, seeming to have a lot going on inside his head. "You asked to speak with me, Sir?"

"I did." Kurt confirmed. "I wanted to ask how Ben has been doing, and how well you get along with each other."

"We get along just fine." Richard stated. "The kid's smarter than most of the Marines, it's actually a little weird."

"I see." Kurt said with a nod. "What about his performance?"

"He's excelling in both his training and his academic courses." Richard said. "Of particular note he scored top marks on his history lessons, and he seems particularly determined to complete his objectives."

"That's good." Kurt said, although his tone implied otherwise. "What about his failures at his team-based exercises?"

"No improvement so far." Richard grudgingly admitted.

That put a frown on Kurt's face, and Richard understood why. Teamwork was incredibly important to Spartans in general, but it was especially important for Spartan IIIs. Due to their lesser armor, they had to rely on the rest of their squad to avoid taking hits.

"Where is he on the roster?" Kurt asked.

"He's at the very bottom in terms of teamwork, along with some of the other kids." Richard answered. Even if he believed in the kid, he wasn't going to sugarcoat his faults.

"Teamwork is incredibly important, I'm not sure we should keep him in the program, we're already reaching our budget's limit." Kurt said warily.

"In my honest opinion Sir, that would be a dramatic waste." Richard argued. "His dedication is unmatched, and so is his potential."

And I'm not just saying that to save my career, he's got the makings of a good soldier, he just needs some guidance! Richard reassured himself.

"Dedication and potential aren't going to cover his blindspots in a gunfight." Kurt pointed out.

He's only a little over two weeks into training. Richard fought the urge to reply, well aware that Kurt was looking for answers, not excuses.

"But..." Kurt continued. "We'll give him another month, we will see if he still has potential."

Richard gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you Sir, you won't regret this."

Kurt nodded. "For now I want Ben to continue his usual training, let me know if anything changes regarding his performance. Should he fail to improve, I'll try to find another option for him. But if I can't..."

"I understand." Richard said, happy that both he and Ben were getting a second chance. "I'll do my best to improve his coordination with his teammates."

"Do your best, you're dismissed." Kurt instructed.

Camp Currahee, Mess Hall

1334 Local Time, August 21st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar

Ben and Richard were having their daily talk as they ate. They had wrapped up talking about his academics and were moving onto his exercises and physical training. Richard noted he looked slightly taller, no doubt aided by the growth supplements in his food. But eventually, Richard was forced to bring up the hard topic.

"Ben, you need to stop lagging behind in the team exercises." Richard chastised. "It's severely impacting your grades, as well as your future participation in the program."

"It's not me! It's my teammates!" Ben protested. "They can't keep up with me!"

Richard grated his teeth, before giving an angry retort. "That's beneath you Ben! Shoving your faults onto others fixes nothing, not for you, or your teammates!"

"I swear in this one case it's true! I couldn't get my squadmate out of the crater, so I... I had to complete-" Ben began, trying to explain.

"You left a man behind, don't ever leave a man behind." Richard sternly interrupted. "Excuses are worthless, the best thing you can do is learn from this."

Ben looked to the ground for a moment, before finding his voice again. "What do you think I should have done?"

Good, he has the right mindset. Richard thought before answering. "You could have either stayed with them until they recovered enough to continue, which admittedly would have jeopardized your mission. Or, you could have carried them to the end."

"I'm not strong enough to do that." Ben admitted.

"Not yet." Richard reassured, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "But you will be, give it some time."

"What do I do until then?" Ben asked after a moment's hesitation.

"The same thing you've been doing, learn, train, and do your best." Richard simply answered.

One month later

Arena #1

1423 Local Time, August 24st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar

Ben sat in an instacrete bunker with what was left of his team, trying to catch his breath. He had his teammates were the only survivors of a gruesome ambush, which had ripped their twelve-man unit down to three people. His squad leader, Holly-G003, had just enough time to give the order to retreat, before the opposing Cadets had knocked her unconscious with a training round to the back of the helmet.

Running was beginning to prove difficult, as the Cadets were loaded down with heavy equipment, meant to simulate running in what the UNSC designated "maximum effective combat load". Ben had pointed out the bunker to his remaining squadmates, Gus-G401, and Dante-G198, who had thankfully followed him. The bunker had three separate entrances, and was purposefully designed to be difficult to cover alone.

"How's the leg?" Dante asked, referring to the glancing hit that Gus had suffered during the ambush.

"Fine." Gus answered, although it was obvious he wouldn't be going anywhere with his leg partially locked in place.

"Bullshit, we're stuck here..." Dante muttered. "Ben, what do we do?"

"Why are you asking me?" Ben asked, trying to keep his eyes and ears open for his opponents.

"You're second in command, remember? And Holly's down, so you're in charge now." Dante pointed out.

Ben thought for a minute on how to proceed, examining his teammates and what equipment they had left, before coming to a conclusion.

"We're weakened, we'll play defensively, and hold this bunker." Ben said as he inspected the training rifle he'd been given. "Both of you, grab an entrance and keep it secure."

"That's a terrible plan." Gus critically commented. "How are we supposed to get the drop on them?"

"I'm not so sure, it could work." Dante said. "If we ambushed them, maybe we could pull something off?"

"They'd have to come to us first." The first one said. "Otherwise we'd just be sitting in a bunker while everyone else wins."

"Hmmm." Ben said as he thought. "What if we fire off a few shots? Then the enemy will know where we are."

"Now we're talking." Dante said firing a few shots down one of the entryways, causing Gus to panic, as he hadn't seen it coming. "That was... louder, than I expected."

"Jesus Christ, why did you do that?" Gus yelled. "We should have planned our ambush before we called them all to us!"

The two Cadets started bickering with one another, debating who should have done what and when. Ben decided to ignore them and took a position just outside one of the entrances to the bunker, well aware that the enemy would be on their way to investigate the sound of the gunshots.

The first enemy Cadet who was approached apparently heard his bickering teammates, and tried to sneak up on them. He did not see Ben, who promptly shot him in the back of the helmet, which quickly rendered him unconscious. He dragged the recruit out of the doorway, and into the bunker, so that the enemy wouldn't know where he had taken his shot from.

"Goddamn Ben, nicely done!" Dante said as Ben came back inside. His two teammates had their rifles trained on the doorway, obviously expecting him not to have come back after the gunfire.

"Shut up and watch the other doors!" Ben said in response.

To his surprise, the recruits did as he asked, watching the other two entrances to the bunker. They managed to eliminate another two unsuspecting Cadets before they stopped coming. As he was dragging the second back into the bunker, Ben made a realization.

"Wait a moment, this is Leo, he's from Squad Three..." Ben noted. "The one I shot earlier was from Squad Four."

"What does that mean?" Ben's Gus asked, not deviating from his firing position.

"It means their ganging up on us." Dante answered, apparently coming to the same conclusion Ben had.

"That's unfair! That's gotta be cheating." Gus complained.

"Do you think Mendez cares?" Ben asked rhetorically. "He'd tell us to quit bitching and fight."

"I... yeah, that does sound like what he'd say." Gus conceded.

"The Covies ain't gonna play fair, neither should you." Dante said in a mocking impression of Mendez, which Ben was too busy focusing to criticize.

Their conversation was interrupted when a\ grenade rolled into the bunker, which Ben moved to kick back out of the bunker. While he was successful, one of the enemy Cadets must have acquired a shot on him, as they shot him in the knee, coating it in a painful layer of rapidly crystallizing paint. Ben didn't see what happened outside the Bunker as the grenade exploded outside, as he was too busy pushing himself back into safety with his remaining leg.

He turned to face the abundant gunfire that was coming from Dante and Gus, and found they were both shooting down their respective tunnels at targets he couldn't see. Ben tried to position himself to help, but found himself unable to stand on his own.

"Dante, give me a hand here!" Ben shouted.

"I'm a little-" Dante tried to respond, but got shot in the gut. As he doubled over, another round struck him in the top of the head, knocking him unconscious.

Gus turned his head to see his teammate fall to the ground, and made the critical mistake of pausing his stream of gunfire. The enemy Cadet he was fighting seized the opportunity, and placed enough rounds into his chestpiece to knock him down.

Oh well, another loss. Ben thought, before the enemy approaching him from behind put a bullet into the back of his helmet, making everything go black.

Lieutenant Commander Ambrose's Office

1423 Local Time, August 24st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar

Richard felt a sense of Deja Vu as he sat in Kurt's office, discussing Ben's progress, or rather, lack thereof.

"Ben has made some improvement, but it's not enough." Kurt noted, reading through various reports on Ben's progress. "I had hoped for more substantial results."

"I did as well, I don't know what to say." Richard admitted. "He excels at everything when he does it alone, but when placed in a team environment with other Cadets, he makes some kind of critical mistake."

Kurt nodded, and there was an awkward silence before Richard asked the question they were both thinking about.

"Are you going to kick him out of the program?" Richard cautiously asked.

"No." Kurt bluntly answered. "Admittedly I considered it, but you were right. We shouldn't throw a Cadet like him out, it's a waste of a good soldier."

Richard was torn between being confused and relieved. "What did you have in mind, Sir?"

Kurt sighed. "The Marine Corps is being a bit stingy with the funding for the Mark 2 SPI armor. I think I can convince them to cough it up if I give them another Spartan. It's a roundabout solution that I believe would solve both problems."

"You're taking Ben out of the main company?" Richard guessed.

As a side effect, that should dramatically increase his lifespan. Richard thought, well aware of the missions that the Spartan III's typically undertook.

Kurt gave a nod of confirmation. "He'd work with Marines on the ground, and probably special forces. I imagine he'd work better with them, because they would better suit his more aggressive nature."

"I see." Richard said, now understanding. "Was that all?"

"Not quite. You may tell Ben that his continued training is secured, and you will be receiving some slightly revised training guidelines to fit his new role." Kurt answered. "There is another matter I may need to discuss with you both at a later date, but for now, it's not your concern."

"I understand." Richard said. "And Sir? Thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank the UNSC Marine Corps. Because they're a bunch of stubborn asses." Kurt jokingly replied. "Still, this is going to ensure that the rest of the Company gets upgrades to their armor, so that's certainly a relief."

And that presumably includes Ben. Richard thought. "Was that all, Sir?"

"That was all, you're dismissed Instructor." Kurt answered.