2031, April 16th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/UNSC Faithful

As it turns out, Fireteam Zeta has become very helpful to us. They take us under their wings and show us everything we've missed. They even help us develop our specialties.

I learn so much from Jacobs and Zeke, it's amazing. I admire Jacobs for his intelligence with vehicles and his aim. But I also admire Zeke for his leadership and cool head. When crap goes down, he doesn't lose his cool and explode. Instead he stays calm and tries to defuse the situation.

Each Spartan has practice in more than one specialization. Zeke and Jacobs are best with Air Assault, but have experience as EVA's. Arnold is also an EOD and has blown up a good number of things before. Jessica is a technician as well and has begun to show Kia lots of tips and tricks.

Fireteam Zeta is incredibly close. It's surprising. They're like siblings, related by blood.

211 has taken an interest in sparring. Arnold has been training with him, showing him how to use his height and weight to his advantage. He's even given him a few martial art lessons.

Parkson and Kia mainly keep to themselves, learning from the Engineer. Parkson in particular seems to have made very good friends with it. I haven't been around the two that often, but I can still tell.

We haven't been assigned any missions yet, and that's beginning to worry me. Have we been pushed that far back that we don't have anywhere to fight? But Jacobs reassures that it's only a recuperating phase after the battle on Thrug.

But what I've seen is beginning to get to me. The dead aliens. The mangled humans. The fear in the civilians eyes as they flee from the Covenant. The memories play like an old film in my mind, repeating again and again. It's dragging me down and I can't escape from it and it's cutting me deep.

Zeke enters the room that I'm in, the observatory, but doesn't approach me. I watch him as he approaches the bar and grabs a bottle of sorts and pours the white liquid into a glass. He then makes his way over to where I'm sitting and sits across from me. I'm trying to figure out what to say, but his gaze speaks of understanding. So I stay silent.

The Spartan startles me by setting the small glass down and sliding it across with his fingers. The glass stops just inches from falling off of the edge. "Here. This works wonders," he says, leaning back on the couch.

I furrow my brow, confused as to why he'd be giving me whatever this is. It's too thick to be water, and too miscolored to be milk. It smells strange as well. My confusion must have been apparent because Zeke speaks up. "Alcohol. It'll become your best friend."

I remember what Hokai had told us about drinking. That it would "prevent any logic and strategic thinking". I don't want to be unprepared, so I politely push the glass away. But Zeke insists. "Trust me, Jackson. If you live to be as old as us, you'll need this to forget the shit you'll see."

I take the drink and study it. It sloshes like water, which it obviously isn't. As I am contemplating drinking it or not, curiosity gets the best of me and I down the liquid in one gulp.

At first, it burns, but it gets a little warmer going down. Obviously, I looked conflicted because Zeke gives a laugh and nods. "Burns, doesn't it? Don't worry. You'll get used to it."

"How are you feeling? Don't need the ER yet do you?" Zeke asks in a teasing tone.

The ER? How? I'm feeling great. Giggly great. What was I so sad about earlier? Oh the hell with it. No use worrying about it now. I bet 211 would love this!

I didn't realize I had gotten up until I find myself at the door with Zeke pushing me back. "I can't let you embarrass yourself, sorry. You'll have to wait it out in here." I make an annoyed noise and go back to the main area where I sit down on the couch. It's so comfortable. I'll just shut me eyes for a few...

A splitting headache makes me snap my eyes open. The light blinds me and I'm forced to close them again. I'm aware of something clutched in my hands, resting hard on my legs. It's a container of some sort. Maybe a bucket. My stomach suddenly heaves and vomit comes flying out of my mouth, splattering my face as it comes into contact with the bucket.

Once I pull away from the bucket, I find several Spartans standing over me, half of them with worried looks. "You said he only had a shot?" one of them asks, looking to the Spartan right beside me. "To be fair, it was Vodka," the one beside me says. I recognize it as Zeke. "He's a green horn. Let him be," Jacobs says from nearby. "I've drank with Spartans his age and they could at least handle a single shot of fuckin' Vodka!" Jessica says. Her loud voice is like a hammer against my head and makes me groan as I rest my head over the bucket, feeling my stomach beginning to heave again. "Oh shut your pie hole, Jessica. You know how hang-overs are," Arnold says, shoving the female Spartan. "Ah, whatever. I'm going to bed. Tell me when he's recovered. I want to laugh in his face," Jessica says and leaves the room.

After I'm done vomiting a second time, I look up at the others and feel my stomach settling a little. Arnold hands me two small pills and a bottle of water. "Here, it'll help with the nausia," he says. I gladly take the water and the pills and down them both. Within a few minutes, my stomach begins to settle and I set down the bucket which is surprisingly heavy. Or was I just feeling weak?

"You scared us for a little while there," 211 says, crossing his arms. "I guess you've learned your lesson about drinking. I think Hokai kept you away from his stash for a reason," Kia says with a chuckle. "Did I get...drunk?" I ask, looking at the others. "You got wasted," Zeke says with a sympathetic look. Jacobs pats me on the back with a grin. "Don't worry, buddy. It happened to us all at one point," he says.

I realize we're in the partly empty mess hall and it's late. How long did I black out for?

"You should sleep off this hangover. We've got a mission in the morning. We'll be accompanying you guys so you don't screw up. Can you three get him back to his bed safely?" Jacobs asks my teammates. "Yes. It's not a problem," 211 answers before Kia can. "Alright. We're heading off. See you in the morning," Jacobs says and leaves with his team.

211 helps me to my feet and escorts me back to our room where I slump into my bed, groaning. The walk was the longest of my life. It seemed to take ages.

"Careful on the liqor next time, squad leader," Kia says with a smile. Parkson then looks to Kia and signs something with his hands. Kia nods and gives me a salute, followed by an amused glance. She backs out and leaves me and 211 to ourselves. "Our next op is in a few hours. Rest up so you're prepared. I think it's more training than anything serious. Zeta has some specialised tasks set up for us that they'll be working each of us through. It's going to be...fun," 211 says with a small chuckle. I can only manage a grunt and burry my face deeper into the pillow. "I'll leave you alone, then," 211 says after a moment's silence.

He leaves and I can hear him walking to the far wall where he soon shuts off the lights which thankfully eases some of the skull shattering headache throbs.

I find my mind wandering to our last missions again. The faces of the damned. The lost...but I fall asleep before my thoughts can get very far.