I'm sooo sorry it took me so long to write the next chapter! I decided to complete it thanks to NaNoWriMo! 3850 words so far! I missed a day due to a hurt shoulder so…yeah lol (After editing it for JUST here, it turns out to be 3993 words, imagine that!)

Gharan never rejoined us that week. He just stood there, watching us train together. An odd sight but we said nothing. Neither did Vaman. I was surprised he didn't force him to train but I suppose he was aware that he might have been thinking he was too good for us; if that is what he was truly thinking. Even though Vaman wanted to balance us out, in a way, he seemed to almost expect his son to do this.

After training with dual-wielding weapons together, the three of us, and the competition on the seventh day; things began to heat up as this was the sixth week of the training period. Vaman showed us two powerful weapons today – the Fuel Rod Cannon and the Plasma Launcher. Many of the students were enthralled by these weapons; especially considering that the second heavy weapon is from the next shown weapon, the Plasma Grenade. That tiny explosive caught my attention more than some overpowered arsenal. Turrets were next on the "menu" for training and while they were effective, I would not prefer to remain stationary with a weapon unless it were a precision weapon. Lastly, with already knowing all of us mostly had the aptitude to become evasive during combat, Vaman introduced us to a few extra abilities such as a cloaking device, an armor lock, and a jet pack.

Once assigning us into Squadrons, we had the luxury of Q'rin's company; making us all five, if you count Gharan when he actually participates. Speaking of the aloof son-of-a-fool, he DID join us willingly today but not without being stoic. Incongruously, he followed MY orders. This caused me to be quite distrustful; was he reluctantly doing so and devising some sort of plot to harm me without my knowing by way of his father? Or was he honestly trying to fit in?

Still, he chose to see me as his leader – I assume for the moment, as he made it clear to us in the past that he was his own leader. Eelo knew I had programmed the use of Needler weapons within my skill-set. With this in mind, she chose to train with both heavy-set weapons; much to the dislike of Vaman. Q'rin decided to go with the turret, a choice no one in our group would bat an eye at considering his marvelous talent to be diverting to the other students. Nikhal was also a little quiet but not terribly more than he usually is – his lack of speech became less so after deciding to show off the cloaking device; to which this intrigued me. I decided for now to choose something the others hadn't – the grenades. I was mortally fascinated by these explosives and would very much like to use them on the battlefield.

Twenty minutes into our session, my Squadron began to enjoy themselves.

"The Fuel Rod Cannon is extraordinary! Its mechanics are more than brilliant, they are revolutionary!" Eelo mentioned as she began to fire the Cannon at the dummy.

"I think you are over-embellishing the armament, Eelo." Laughed Nikhal as he fiddled with the now somewhat broken cloaking device after so much use. I desired to assist him with it as I have used one once before but I did not want to spoil the solo act of his – partially due to Sangheili tradition but also to the fact that watching him struggle was more than entertaining.

"Coming from the one who can hardly use his cloaking device." Retorted Eelo.

"Quiet you!" Nikhal said, defending his clumsiness. "I'll have you know that when this device works again, not even Vaman could spot me!" He finished with bravado. Eelo and I chuckled at the fuming but also slightly-blue-faced Nikhal. "Ruz? You…you find my accidental antics amusing?"

"Of course, I do!" I giggled. "You're no Q'rin but obviously, spending time with him has rubbed off on you!"

Nikhal became a brighter shade of blue at this point. I did not make any special note of this, just left it with a twitch of my tail.

"No harm, no foul, my friend. For I, Q'rin, have learned how to use this massive turret effectively…" The boaster stood there proudly and without fear of ridicule.

"Oh?" The three of us simultaneously questioned him.

"Indeed…" He answered readying his turret.

"By all means, Q'rin the Jest, provide us the proof!" Nikhal smirked at him.

"Very well, you all have been warned…"

Pointing his weapon at the moving dummy (we pushed ourselves to not use the stationary training dummies from this session onward) and began to fire like a mad-man. At first, we all were in disbelief that with such poor precision as flailing the weapon about would surely make even one laceration upon the dummy. But when Q'rin had finished his typical tomfoolery, we WERE in disbelief after all! He had completely obliterated the unfortunate dummy.

Despite our bewilderment, the three of us clapped for our new member.

"So, dear Ruz, what have YOU got to show us?"

Though I wanted to, I dared not smirk and boast only to be made out a fool; even moreso than our comrade Q'rin.

"Well, if you must know, I shall educate you. Anyone with eyes to see knows that I, of course, revel in the thought of slaying the enemy with a few crystalline shards followed by a pink mist," A few laughs of agreement interrupted my speech. "However," I continued. "Other than sparring with my father, he taught me a few major tips on this peculiar grenade."

"Pray tell!" Said both Nikhal and Q'rin concurrently; Nikhal obviously heeding to my every word and Q'rin for the sure need to cause more trouble.

"Very well, very well, keep your armor on, my friends." I ambled to the dummy, and temporarily made it stationary (our agreement to desist using them still plays on but for the demonstration of the Plasma Grenade, it would be an exception – and they knew this instinctively; as they did not criticize) stood back a ways, and threw the primed explosive at the target and motioned the group to stand back as it detonated.

"Incredible!" Applauded Eelo to the act.

"Kaboom!" Q'rin's simple choice of words was not surprising.

"I second Eelo's comment, please, show us another display of the Plasma Grenade!" Replied Nikhal.

I nodded and moved some ways back yet again and backed my arm for another lit grenade at the dummy; estimating my throw would stick to it at the dummy's "head". With a deep breath, I threw it and awaited the results. After a few seconds, it stuck to the dummy and then exploded. Other than the cheering from my members, the black char left over from my munition on the used-to-be face of the dummy gave me a glimpse of my success.

"What a toss!" Nikhal stated with such support.

"Don't you mean what an arm?" Eelo chuckled to him.

"Yes, that was quite a feat, however I'm sure you could do better. Why not-" Q'rin added before Gharan interjected.

"Why not prove yourself more than just displaying a long throw, Eyesore?"

Were it for my unrelenting ability to keep myself calm, I would have struck his face with my hand. Conversely, I noticed several things about Gharan – firstly, the voice tone he used whilst calling me that wretched pet name was not the usual bitter one he and his father typically use; it was almost as if it were my name or something along those lines. Secondly, that he willingly included himself into our group without speaking about his superior skills. And thirdly, that no one remembered to let him display his progress for the day before I went last; as we all agreed that the leader would not go first in this group as it has with the others but instead last. Nonetheless, I acknowledged him as I would rather get along with him than be his enemy – the humans are enough to deal with, I do not need one of my own as my opponent.

"What do you propose, Gharan?" I calmly asked him with my hands behind my back; forcing myself not to impulsively react to him in case he decided to attack me with impolite words.

"If you are truly as good as you say you are with the grenades, from a farther distance than where you stand, tag not this target, but one that moves."

Without pausing, he immediately turned on the dummy's program to move wildly and having already the ability to predict motions and tactics, this truly would be an exploitation of my gifts. I am ever so grateful that these training dummies start anew in their learning programming each time they are turned off. Still, I speculated if this was more than some dare from one warrior to another but a ruse to put my father's name and my own to shame. I suppose I would find out sure enough; backing out or questioning would only prove I was nothing my father raised – and I intend to prove that he raised a very good warrior.

Nodding in agreement of this challenge, I knew that as long as I stuck the dummy and did not miss, I would meet his expectations. And I assure you, I only wish to gain his comradery, nothing more. I made his mere taunt more of a difficulty for me by taking to the air with my wings – showing him that while my wings do provide advantage, they could easily cause me to fail. Q'rin naturally thought this was dishonesty, Gharan knew my intentions and stated them to him. I assume he knew them due to my ineptness for flying and combat due to having some trouble with staying in the air and also focusing on where my arm is aiming. Leaving them be, I focused on this side-task at hand. I hadn't really ever done this before but I would not let stepping into the unknown frighten me. If I were to successfully gain loyalty of Vaman's son, he might think differently of me.

Taking a few deep breaths, I closed my eyes and allowed the room's sounds to fill my ears. The constant explosions of grenades and heavy weapons, the rapid fire of turrets, the various noises of the ability belts, to the voices of every hard-trained student. Before I let my arm throw my lit grenade at my target, I took in the scoffs of Vaman and the vision of the dummy moving about – to which I also heard. And with a confident throw, I landed on my feet to the ground, and bowed my head, not lifting it until the explosion I waited for came. Upon ignition, I opened my eyes, letting light enter my pupils and behold, the head once again was blackened by the impact. The room fell quiet, I assume as I had been taking in all that I could sense, that every soul in my presence was thunderstruck with incredulity. I twitched my tail with a high dose of overconfidence; knowing that those who witnessed my feat had fully understood I was not to be messed with. And that if they tried, their fate would mimic that of the dummy. All except Vaman, of course. I smirked a sangheili smirk; his blood was boiling, I could smell the rage on him.

"By the Prophets, what was THAT, Eyesore?" He said stomping his way toward me furiously; no doubt ready to take his hand across my cheek. Stopping him with my hand at his breastplate, still smirking, I said to him,

"Merely displaying my expertise with the Type-1 Antipersonnel Grenade, sir." It was unlike me to be so cheeky, but to be an irritant worse than the legendary Parasite Spore upon his back was more than enough pleasure for me.

"Are you talking back to me, you whelp?" He muttered bitterly, trying to push back against my hand.

"No, sir. I am simply stating fact. Are you not as impressed with my coup as my classmates are?" Pushing my weight back on him, he knew I meant business. I'm sure even in his imprudence, he knew this was a challenge that I was not the failing student that he made me out to be. In fact, with my father's training, I could be considered top-class.

"Hmph. A true warrior does not beg for attention to show his worth; he shows it when no one is watching." He huffed and attempted to walk away from our argument before I snapped,

"And a wise trainer esteems all his apprentices of equal regard; with honor and glory – thoroughly instructing them in the Sanctified Blood and the Holy Flare that guides us."

His only comeback was a low growl. He knew that no matter how strong the temptation was, he could not argue with the words of my father; a noble and well-appreciated warrior in his crucial days whose title may as well have been the equivalent to an Arbiter.

"Fine. But if I ever lay my eyes on any more of your debauchery for your self-proclaimed skillset, I'll-"

"Father," Gharan unexpectedly wedged in between our words.

"What, Gharan?" Vaman barked.

"It was I that challenged her to throw a Plasma Grenade to see if she could accurately tag it as she did beforehand to a closer proximity. It was a test of proficiency, sir, and I-"

"You WHAT?!" Vaman appeared to be as ravaged as a foaming-beast – quite the humorous sight. "How DARE you provoke her to outdo you!"

"At least you finally admit I could, you fool," I thought to myself.

"It was not a provocation, but a test – to see if failure would befall her hide." The tone in which Gharan used was not at all defending what he had been since I joined this class. Actually, he seemed to be shifting his thought process about me for whatever reason – in similar fashion as when Eyesore sounded much differently on his lips than the others. His father didn't notice the change yet he still was unhappy

"Nevermind that, you inept fool, you were instructed to specifically bring her pride below your knees!" Punishing him with a blow to the brow, he carried on to the rest of the class.

"Pay no mind to what has happened here, students. The silliness that the Eyesore has displayed was but an act; a cry for attention." Vaman encouraged to the class.

"So you mean to tell me that my education by my father's hand is only a meaningless hoax and your behavior toward the Hierarchs is not?" I retorted in response as I gathered my items for return at the sight of our day's end.

"SILENCE! I have had ENOUGH of your insolence towards authority!" His heavy breathing due to yelling so much was obviously wearing him down. I knew that if I kept this up, this week would be relatively quiet. Next week, the last week, should I be ever so lucky then as well, I'd give praise to the Gods.

"Likewise, Vaman. Better call on the first contestants, I do believe your class is walking on pins and needles, itching for a worthy quarrel."

Wrinkle-eyed from exhaustion, he looked at the class and back at me, knowing good and well my words held truth. He grinned a rather large grin, as if his next move would slit my throat.

"So be it, you shall be up first – if you are so self-assured in what 'daddy' has taught his little girl, than you shall prove it beyond merely tagging a useless dummy. Gharan!"

"You needn't say another word, I know this is my fight."

As the two of us readied ourselves for a fight with a few stretches, one student inquired Vaman.

"Vaman, sir, what about a display from you?" He asked.

"This is the sixth week. By the end of this week, you will no longer be needing a demonstration. Brace yourselves, this week will be a transition into what might be your valediction – or your fall back into the slums of where your status to becoming a warrior sees no return." He glanced at me with this last statement. "Settle down for a moment – this bicker between the best and worst student will not be long."

Before I made my way to the center of the room, I nodded to Eelo, telling her that I was ready; with all the preparations during our personal training sessions, I was more than ready. She reciprocated, acknowledging my thoughts that this was when I would shine – at least three fights before I left here.

I readied my grenades in my pouch, twitching my tail yet again, anticipating Gharan's first move. Oddly, his first move was a respectful nod. Were it not for my quick reflexes, this would have caught me off balance – but noticing it made me realize something…

"FIGHT!" Shouted Vaman as the quarrel officially initiated, I kept my eyes on Gharan and never lost sight of him. We merely exchanged arm-grabbing, looking into the other's eyes. He clearly was trying to tell me something but I was unsure of what.

Ignoring this, I picked him up by the arm I had hold of and pinned him to the floor with a successful tag of a false grenade. He looked me in the eyes, once more, almost pleading something out of me. He obviously did not want to fight. Narrowing my eyes, I motioned that if he were to be looked upon as still the best that he fight back. He closed his eyes a moment and upon reopening them, it was clear – he must see me as his superior. I receded from the fight – Vaman was right after all. It WAS indeed brief.

"What in Tartarus' name was that, Gharan? You had your chance and instead gave into a staring completion? No bloodshed, no gained honor, what pathetic excuse of a fight was this?" Gharan simply stood up, brushed his armor off, and folded his arms with a non-chalant expression upon his countenance. "This is NO time for stoic nature, why have you suddenly become weak? Moreso than the Eyesore?"

"Father, if I am weak, than explain what use your counsel in combat has been to me." I was not looking but I knew his smirk was present; even if hardly noticeable. Well, unless you are Vaman.

"You are going to disrespect me, your own father? In front of the convocation of this room? The ones who look up to you because I taught you how to be a warrior?!"

Again, Gharan said nothing.

As much as some of us would like to see the star pupil become irrelevant, the entire class caught on quickly what these two do in their spare time other than ignore the other's presence. The class exited out the door, needing no dismissal for such an occasion like today.

Eelo, Nikhal, and myself led Q'rin, our newest member to the grounds where the three of us had been training for weeks for several hours without a care in the world. Now being four, we all blended happily together. However, it felt incomplete. Even with the jokes from Q'rin every now and then, something about our group didn't seem right.

"You feel it, too, don't you sister?" Eelo noticed the way I'd occasionally gaze out from our habitation.

"Yes. The four of us do not make a true team." I told her putting the grenades that I hadn't used once since Jaor smuggled in the grenades for us.

"I agree. We require a fifth member. Or all of us will never advance to the battlefield."

"We need him." Nikhal looked up as he heard me say this.

"N-Need who?" He asked.

I did not answer him. Honestly, I didn't need to. The answer came to us all in the form of a beaten and bruised young sangheili, limping toward our turf as if he were on a mission.

"Gharan! You're hurt!" Eelo immediately went to his aid, confused and worried for him; as he looked as though he had stepped foot in the heat of war.

"My friend, why do you think that is?" I said to her, leaning against one of the posts that hold the shade over us. All she could do was look at me with concern and back to tending his wounds.

"His…Vaman rebuked you? Isn't that why you have those scars?" Nikhal indicated.

"Undeniably." This was all that Q'rin the Comedian could atypically muster.

Gharan coughed up some blood before he spoke.

"…there isn't skin on me that hasn't been battered, my friends." He meant this for all of us but looked at me whilst saying so.

"So, this was what you meant by that gawk earlier. You no longer feel the way you have about me, or any of us for that matter." With a simple respective nod and head-shake, I'm sure speaking conjured too much energy in his state of mind. "Tell me, Gharan, what does this mean for the four of us?"

Standing up, he took in a breath of fresh air – companionship-to-be.

"That every word you said was true, every action you took was just, and every vein in your body flows with courage and honor." He bowed in veneration to me, much to the shock of the others – not me, however.

"I'm privileged to know that for such a small act of kindness, I am repaid two-fold. Have you come here to join us and make this group a full squadron?" He held his stomach with his hand; still freshly injured.

"Yes, my liege." He said standing up and with a minor bow. I laughed.

"Cease your formalities, I am not leader as of now."

"Not on the battlefield, no, but I've watched you. You have your father's blood in you – you ARE the leader here." He smirked to me with a glint in his eye. Nodding to him, I could tell the connection I tried to originate finally caught up to us.

As we introduced him to our strategies and agenda, Nikhal was drowning in his sweat.

"No, could it be? Are they…? Will they…?" Observing the body language of both Gharan and I, he feared the worst that our newfound friendship would indeed grow. The more he and I talked, the more fearful Nikhal became. "I need to make my move…"

Clearing his throat, he said, "Ruz, I would like to speak to you." I looked away from Gharan and locked them with Nikhal's, watching his face go blue; waiting patiently to hear him speak. "Eh, er…"

"Out with it, Nikhal." I calmly said.

"Yes, uh…well, you see for a long time, I-"

Gharan narrowed his eyes. He smelled the fear and panic on Nikhal. A competitive nature that has always been part of him lingered in him still – one that he would not recognize no matter what; despite separation from his father.

"Nikhal, whatever it is you have to say to Ruz, I'm sure it can wait." He said gruffly with a small grin but in an expressionless manner.

"I concur, Gharan. I apparently have been appointed leader of this group so we'll discuss this matter another time, hmm?"

"You have always been our leader, sister." Eelo pointed out, handing me a grenade.

"Satisfactory, I suppose. Let us practice more – now that our group is a squadron, we can fully focus our attention on next week – this is it, my friends. Make the most of it."

"Right…" Nikhal said to himself somberly. "Well, I tried. But I guess I have some friendly competition…"

That afternoon, with a glorious training session completed, all of us decided that while a couple of us had families, we would spend most of our time here in the grounds – focusing solely on entering the paths of our fathers before us. The next two weeks would not be merciful.

So did everyone enjoy this chapter? :3 Took me two days!

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