I'll Stay

Ch.8 Breakfast of Champions

Pov: O'Brien

After my talk with Cal, the dream I had before came back. It was my birthday… The day I turned eighteen, the day I fought with my father. Things were going so well till then. All of my friends hung out with me, and we went to a nearby paintball course.

Then that night I told my old man the news, "I'm joining the ODST!"

Easy to say he broke. Took up his dinner plate and threw it at me, missed intentionally, told me I was insane. I didn't listen.

"What's your deal?! Don't you want what's best for me?!"

"I want you to live! It's not like the shows they put on the broadcasts! You'll be killed!"

The same thing he always said, no! It was all I heard!...

I didn't understand why until my first drop. When I opened the pod of one of our drop mates in the training. His body flopped out like a meat bag. The eyes I wouldn't forget, bloodshot and squished, and broken shins sticking out of his legs.

Apparently his cabin pressure increased in the atmosphere and suffocated him while pressing hard all over his body. That was the moment I realized that my father might have been right.

Only making it home would prove him wrong, but I still see his face. I never saw disappointment in his face like that, not once. He had that same face when I left home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was saved from the memory too late, the alarm went off right after I left without a goodbye.

Dutch was the first to get up and started to rush putting on his uniform. Then the burly man rushed over to brush his teeth and comb his hair. All was done in under a minute. Cortez shook his head at his antics, "Dutch, what are you doing?"

My squadmate turned to face the man while getting his military boots on, "What if they pull some sort of trick if we were late! I'm not skipping breakfast!"

It was the wake up call we needed. The two of us started to copy Dutch's actions. Only at the sink, Cortez and I struggled for control of the bathroom reaching for the tooth brushes. Ending with me knocked out of it, and dutch looking over me with a grin.

"Better luck next time."

As soon as Cortez was done I quickly took my turn. I combed my red hair just right, used a little gel in it to keep it straight and rushed out.

"Ready."

Our leader opened the sliding door to the hallway,

"Then let's go!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Our running turned into casual walking as we entered the mess hall. It was small enough for the three teams, and one team was already there. The Marines, and they were laughing it up about something. We didn't pay too much attention and went for the buffet. Eggs, bacon, and toast were out on trays underneath heating lamps. Just waiting to be taken. Beside this was coffee and orange juice.

Our team went for the food quickly, forking up nice sized portions on the warm plates we took on the side. After that, all of us got our coffee. Cortez took his coffee black while Dutch seemed to put a lot of creamer in his.

I had a little bit of cream in mind while putting a little bit of sugar in it. And I took a cup of orange juice for good measure.

Cortez made it to the table with the other first and got the attention of the marines. The leader of the bunch laughed.

"Well here they are, the men of the hour! How was the mud bath anyway?"

I kept my mouth shut, Dutch didn't.

"Pretty good. You should try it sometime."

"Ha! I just might! Names Avery Johnson, son! This here is Corporal O'Malley! Fought with me for sometime now. He's a good driver and close quarter fighter."

He had a well combed head of orange hair, and a scar along his left cheek. He was about middle aged, no older than 35.

"Yo"

"And here is PFC Pate! He's actually rather new. Only work one mission with him. But! He's got skill with a machine gun. Took out an entire column of Covies by himself."

He was younger than me, and had a skinny frame. His hair was black and his skin looked like he had some acne trouble.

When he spoke up, his voice was melodramatic, "...I still could leave my nickname behind after my promotion… why…"

I entered the conversation, "Nickname?"

Johnson snorted, "It ain't hard to figure it out."

"Please don't."

"Oh get over it, private! That ain't the worst nickname you could get. Yours will be gone by your next promotion, so let me have some fun! Some are stuck with them no matter how hard they try. One guy I knew was called Slim Jim, name was Jim and skinny as a starved horse!… Though he packed quite the punch."

The Sargent rubbed his check, an old memory of a hit.

Cortez joined in, "Where's he now?"

"Oh, he took a plasma blast to his back. Had to have major surgery. But he's fine now. Because of the incident, Jim goes around and does fundraisers for the army to support the fight. Who knows, maybe some of what we got now is thanks to him."

Everyone nervously chuckled at that, while I silently prayed that I would be more lucky than that. My team started to dig in, savoring every bite. The eggs went well with the bacon, better than usual might I add. Perhaps it was just the missed dinner that made me think it was any better than army food.

"Oh, and before I forget. Thank you for handing over that victory to us yesterday. I was afraid that at my age, I would have pulled a muscle making it past the finish line. You really pulled through."

Our trip rolled our eyes at his remark.

"And you showed those Spartans ain't invincible. That takes guts."

That comment took a moment for it to register in our minds.

We did that… huh.

We knocked down heroes of the war, up to this point, in mud. After they had already gone through so much. I felt guilty and proud. Was that even a thing?

As these emotions ran through me, the door to the dinning hall opened to reveal the spartans we took out yesterday.

"Speak of the devil." Was the remark from the old Sargent.

I did my best to not look their way and proceeded to eat my breakfast. The silence was unnerving, waiting for them to head over. When they did, I felt the table shake next to me. I looked up to see a man with light skin and short black hair with a small mole on his forehead. He paid no mind and started eating. Followed by him was a man who had dark skin and a clean shaved head. And he was ripped. Dutch probably had competition now. Finally, the leader of the bunch sat next to Cortez.

I did my best to say nothing, my best.

"...So… about yesterday."

Cortez brought his head into his hands. Dutch looked like he wanted to kill me. The commander didn't show any emotion as he ate.

"Yes, private?"

I took a deep breath.

Remember, you're doing this for Cal.

"Well, just wanted to say sorry about the race yesterday."

"I see, thank you."

…

I looked at Cortez as he moved his head back up. Trying my best to shoot him a "help me" look.

"What my teammate means is that we're sorry we attacked you like that. It was unprofessional, and it was my call."

"I see."

… Ahhh!

I was about to walk out of there when the doors slammed open. It was a giant. A bearded Giant with a smile across his face.

"Gentlemen!"

He walked over and took his place at the head of the table.

"I'm going to be your instructor for the day. So let's go ahead and introduce ourselves. My name is Jorge, I'm a heavy gunner. I've been in this war since the start. I like reading, but I enjoy the company of others."

This was weird, too weird. Far from the stoic attitude given by the man from yesterday. Instead, he felt like anyone else. And he said that he was at the start!

I can't even imagine! I guess all of the Spartan ll's were at the start.

Jorge gestured to Avery, "Alright, Avery Johnson. I was born and raised on earth, Illinois. Platoon leader, and a little dabble in being a drill instructor,"

Dabble?

"And I fancy myself to flip music. Any fans?"

Never heard of it.

Nobody said anything,

"No? Well I'll see to fixing that."

O'Malley was next, "I'm Nick O'Malley, I was born on Centuri V. An outer colony that existed a decade ago. Before the covenant glassed it, it only lasted 5 years… since then I've been fighting on the front lines. Lost my home, and family. Itching to get back at them, sir."

Jorge nodded, "We'll do that. Any hobbies?"

"Well, I like working on cars. Only place where I really can relax."

"Hmmm."

Next was Pate, with a nickname I had yet to figure out.

"Private First class Pate Anderson! Grew up on Jeti Prime, and graduated class of 51! Volunteered because I want to end the war, sir! I am trained in all Machine gun and machine gun repairs! My hobbies include biking and Videogames! That's all."

This one sure had a mouth…

The giant man chuckled at his militaristic attitude, "At ease soldier. This isn't a real evaluation, just trying to get a feel for everyone that I will be working with real soon."

"Oh…"

"But you said you graduated this year. How recent?"

"... Two months ago."

… And He's in this program?!

"That isn't a lot of experience, but we can work on that. Have you at least been on a mission yet?"

"One… On Jeti…"

Oh, oh man… Talk about trial by fire.

"I'm sorry for your loss, did your family make it out?"

"One did, my younger brother. He's being taken care of by family that was off-world… I'm ready to stick it to them, Sir."

Pate was like most who joined, much nobler than my intentions… and he seemed really shook up. That wouldn't fly in a mission like this, and Jorge saw through that.

"I understand, son. I lost a lot of my family to the covenant. If you want to talk about it I'm welcome to listen."

"...Yeah."

It was our team next.

Cortez took the stand,

"Master Sergeant Cortez, I've been in service for the last six years. I was raised on Mars, and went to military school when I was 16. I've been on missions against both the Covenant and the insurrectionists. My hobbies include traveling, hiking, and watching old earth cartoons."

"Oh? Which ones?"

"An old one called Phineas and Ferb. It grew on me when I was little. About 21st century kids using their summer vacation to the fullest."

"I'll have to check that out sometime when I got time. You ever watched The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy?... No? Well, it's about two kids, same era, that beat Death. And Death is forced to be their best friend forever! Ha! Times really were different then."

… That's dark…

It was now Dutch's turn, "Corporal Taylor miles, but I prefer Dutch. Born and raised on Mars. I've been in service for seven years. Like Cortez, I've been on a few against insurrectionists, and a lot of Covenant. My hobbies include camping, and weight lifting. I can squat 375 easy!"

At his declaration, the buff looking Spartan III held in a chuckle.

Dutch looked his way, and he was ticked off.

Luckily, our instructor knew how to defuse it.

"That's good. We'll need that strength in the coming months. Now you, soldier."

Here I go.

"Private O'Brien, I was raised on an outer colony that hasn't been found yet. I've been in service for four years now, but I have gone against innies yet. I fancy myself a sharpshooter. My hobbies include hunting and fishing."

"Hmm, what did you hunt?"

"Deer, mostly. They were brought over from Earth when the colony formed, and some have adapted already with a few new colors on the pelts. Red pigments mostly because of the weeds there are red.

"Interesting, not many worlds with unique plants like that out there."

Jorge cleared his throat, "Now Cal spoke highly of you three. Could you tell why?"

… Why not, is it any more classified than this?

"You see, it was on our last mission. Cal was just assigned to us. And I know for a fact we wouldn't have made it without her, saved me four different times… I was only able to pay her back one. But I'll pay that back and more!"

I was elbowed by Cortez, "I think he meant all of us O'Brien."

"Wha-"

I looked to see the snickers from the Marines, Dutch, and the spartan next to me.

Sergeant Avery ate this up, "On a first name basis are we?"

Dutch started encouraging it, "Oh, it gets better!"

"Oh, do tell."

"He got carried in her arm's like a bride!"

My face burned, it burned a lot! An eruption of laughter broke out all around. I wanted to sink underneath the table so much.

"Alright now settle down…"

Jorge was my savior in all of this.

"... You shouldn't laugh at a couple on their honeymoon."

Until that moment.

It was now worse than before, even the Spartans with their cold emotions chuckled at my embarrassment. My head slammed to the table.

It took a minute for everything to cool off. I raised my head for the rest.

"Well, I already know most of my team. But for everyone's sake, go ahead and introduce yourselves. And I'll leave the questions for them."

We get to ask the questions?! Interesting! I'm sure they have some secrets that are embarrassing.

"Commander Carter A-259, born on Biko. Been in the service since a decade into the war. I've led many excursions against the Covenant on many worlds. I prefer the solace of space, helps me clear my mind when I'm not training. I also like watching old earth movies. Castaway being a favorite."

Huh… Somewhat normal. Neverheard of the movie before.

Johnson coughed into his mouth before asking, "What did you like about the movie? It's been a while since I saw that one."

"I would say the struggles he went through on his own and how he struggled to overcome them. That, and the ending where the man is literally at a crossroads in life to make a choice. It's implied he makes the right choice though."

"Really? I felt it was left to interpretation?"

The spartan smiled, "It was."

The sergeant laughed at the joke while the rest of us were clueless as to what was being said. I got the nerve to dig for answers.

"What choices? And why was it the right one?"

He turned to face me, still holding his smile.

"You may find out if we're around long enough, I got it on a file somewhere if you're willing to watch it on your own."

Was kinda hoping for a better answer, but was glad we were getting somewhere with them.

"Ok, Thanks."

"Thank you Commander, now it's your turn."

Jorge pointed to the buff Spartan, "Yeah, Emile A-239, warrant officer, I'm good at what I do."

That was all he said while Jorge rubbed the temples on his own forehead.

"Tell them a little more than that, hobbies?"

"Knives."

Our giant instructor sighed again,

"Emile."

The said Spartan thought for a moment, "Weight lifting."

"Ok, that's better. Tell us more about that."

Emile then pointed at Dutch,

"I can lift a ton more than this shod."

Our called out team mate jumped out of his seat looking ready to throw a punch. Carter was quick to the save putting a hand over Dutch stop him.

"Stand down! Emile, don't mess with our teammates like that."

Emile sighed defeat, "Whatever, and I wasn't messing."

Sure buddy… there goes our progress.

Dutch sat down and calmed himself. While we moved on to the last introduction.

"Alright, progress. You're next, Noble."

Noble?

Noble sat up from his seat, "Thom A-293, my world was glassed a couple decades ago. I forget the name really, not much I want to remember about it. I've been in service for a while now and I am trained as any other Spartan Three. I prefer the DMR over the assault rifle. My rank is Lieutenant, and my hobbies include historical fiction books, and videogames."

Pate perked up at the last statement.

"What games?"

"Like the books, historical fiction. Call of Duty was a personal favorite. The wars were real, but the characters weren't. It was a good way to understand what most of the soldiers went through. But I'm not a fan of their later entries. Exception being MW. It had personality while dealing in the realm of reality. The newer ones were just action hero games that didn't really shine on the heroes of war."

"Oh, I've heard of them! I'd love to try them out."

"If we have time, I'd be alright letting you try them."

Pate did a fist pump.

"Alright you two, settle down."

Jorge then sat up from his place, "Now that introductions are done, we'll go ahead and run through the training for today…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Want my bed… want my bed…

It was a wild day, we started off with a jog that lasted for a few hours. After that, we stopped for lunch and did some weight lifting and everything was used constantly with our numbers. We only did a few sets, while the Spartans did more. Infact, they looked bored. They were lifting way more than us, 200, 300. Even 500, and they didn't break so much as a sweat!

Meanwhile us humans were suffering the consequences of burnout.

"This sucks! Like this is supposed to help!"

"Shut it, O'Brien."

"You shut it, Dutch! We need to be in one piece or we can't go through the next phase! Or whatever they were saying! And these Vitamin shakes suck! Can't they make any flavor other than crap!"

Jorge was so adamant on us taking them, like they were the next thing!

"Take it easy O'Brien, they aren't all that bad. But yeah, they could have at least added better flavor. We're all gonna drink them per doctor's order, so keep it down. I'm tired…"

Dutch didn't bother taking off his uniform and landed in his bed.

"What he said O'Brien, I'm pooped."

Cortez did the same.

Come on! That's nasty, at least take off the shirt before you go sleeping in your sweat!...

Whatever.

I tried my best to take off what I could, but every muscle ached. After a few minutes struggling with my pants, I was able to get them off. My shirt was taken off my wiggling them off, I didn't dare stretch my arms out again.

And then I just layed there, unable to do anything else but sleep.

I didn't even wake up when people came in to abduct us…

"Alright! They took the proper doses! They'll be out like a light for placing them in the exercise."

E.. exercise?

But my mind wandered too far away to hear more…

End chapter.