Hello again, everyone, and welcome back to the next short story in Star Wars: Tales of the Infinity's Odyssey.

Thank you all for your wonderful patience and support. I deeply appreciate it.

For all of you who are curious, this short story was inspired by the Halo fanfiction Consequences Of Revelation by Red Mage 04. Having read up on his work, and found it to be quite stellar, I've decided to do a tribute to that story of his by writing this short story. It will also help resolve a few nagging problems in the lore concerning the Spartan-IVs. As such, this story is a shout-out to that author and his stories.

As always, leave a review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Halo or Star Wars franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of Microsoft Studios, 343 Industries, Bungie, Lucasfilm, 20th Century Fox, Disney Films, etc. Any material original to the franchises belongs to their respective developers, producers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to its original composers and/or artists.


UNSC Infinity

S-Deck

May 10th, 0BBY, 1600 Hrs (November 24th, 2558, 1600 Hrs)

"Something tells me the Spartan-IV's are going to be in for a very interesting time," Cortana said.

Chief nodded, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes currently beheld the War Game Simulator's near-perfect recreation of the 'playground' that was used for his training over forty one years ago. The playground in question was a series of cargo containers and crates that were arranged to create a number of lanes, chokepoints and cul-de-sacs. Beyond, he could see recreations of the bunkers and craggy hills that once existed at the base.

In a way, I envy the Spartan IVs, he thought. They don't have to go to a planet in order to train. They simply have to use the algorithms and other data feeds to simulate every potential battlefield, planet and even simulate any enemy that Humanity knows of… maybe even a few we don't know of.

He glanced back towards the door to the Simulator. Behind him were holographic representations of three Spartan-IVs that had died during the opening hours of the Storm Covenant's incursion on the Infinity. Normally, displaying images of the dead to their squadmates would've been disrespectful, but he needed the Spartan IVs to understand how they died and why. If I don't, there won't be any point.

The sound of the door on the other end of the simulator room opening had him looking up. Four Spartan IVs moved inside, fully encased in their MJÖLNIR Powered Armor. The first two wore the Warrior-pattern of MJÖLNIR Armor, while the other two were wearing the Pioneer and Deadeye variants.

Chief nodded in approval at their armor choices. From what he'd been able to gather, Fireteam Dagger, aside from Fireteam Crimson, was the only highly successful Spartan-IV Fireteam onboard the Infinity. Their combat records from Requiem speak highly of their abilities, he noted. A little more effort, a little more teamwork, and they will be very fine Spartans.

All four members of Fireteam Dagger saluted him. "Sergeant James Alan reporting for duty, sir!" one said.

"At ease," Chief said. "Status on the other Fireteams?"

"On their way now, sir."

Chief nodded. "Is there anything abnormal that you've noted of the other Fireteams?"

Alan's face was hidden by his helmet, but the tilt to the right indicated that he was confused. "Could you clarify, sir?"

"Have you noticed anything unusual about them in terms of discipline?"

Allan nodded. "Yes sir. With all due respect, sir, the other Fireteams do have trouble with discipline at times. Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"Scuttlebutt says that DeMarco attempted to flirt with Commander Palmer. Personally speaking sir, I'd have chewed DeMarco's out for conduct unbefitting for a Spartan," Allan said. "You do not, under any circumstances, engage in fraternization with your commanding officer unless permitted otherwise by the UNSC Code of Conduct. Scuttlebutt also says that they performed similar actions with civilians. If that is true, then I'd have confined him to quarters, or made him clean up all of the bathrooms on S-Deck as disciplinary action."

"I see," he said. "Personnel reports indicated that it's more than just their team too. Were I present in those situations, I would have done exactly the same myself. There is nothing wrong with disciplinary action so long as it is handed out when needed."

"Thank you, sir," Alan said.

No sooner had he said this than the doors opened again. This time, each of the Spartan-IV fireteams onboard the Infinity walked inside. Some of them, like Fireteam Dagger, were fully clad in MJÖLNIR Armor of varying classes. Others, however, wore their armor, but didn't wear their helmets, allowing Chief to see their faces.

He frowned. He himself had been in MJÖLNIR armor long enough that he considered it to be the uniforms of the Spartans. To wear their armor without their helmets is not only disrespectful to all Spartans, it is also a colossal tactical error, he noted. That frown deepened when Commander Palmer walked into the room without her helmet on as well.

Seeing Chief, Palmer said, "Commanding Officer on deck!" With that, all of the Spartan-IVs saluted.

"At ease," Chief said. Once they had all relaxed, he said, "As many of you are undoubtedly aware by now, I've been made the provisional commanding officer of all members of the Spartan Corps onboard the Infinity. That means that, until HIGHCOM states otherwise, I am Commander Palmer's superior, and yours as well."

He let the news sink in, then he said, "Many of you think you know why you are here. Many of you think that Captain Lasky feels that you are not performing to the standards that he expects the pinnacle of all UNSC Special Forces to be performing at. If that is what you think, then you are correct in doing so.

"War is more than just strategies and tactics. It is about logistics, economics, politics and many other fields that apply to your professions. The fact is that all of the resources needed for a hundred Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, and that of thousands of Marine, Army and other UNSC personnel has been invested into you. As such, you can imagine what a waste those resources are when you or your comrades die needlessly on the battlefield."

His words caused the other Spartan-IVs to shift uneasily. Those without helmets on had various emotions ranging from stoic to confused and even worry flash across their faces. Only Fireteam Dagger remained cool and collected.

"That means," Chief continued, " that, in order to allow the UNSC to justify the continued allocation of those resources into the Spartan Corps, you must accomplish objectives that no one else can, missions that no one else can complete. Having looked over your combat records, and the after action reports concerning the Requiem campaign, Vice Admiral Preston Cole, Captain Lasky and myself are in agreement. Your training must be enhanced and held to even higher standards if you are to succeed in your mission.

"Many of you have no doubt served in the campaign at Requiem. That Shield World should have been your wakeup call. We are no longer fighting enemies that are blinded by religious fanaticism. We are fighting enemies that have adapted to our ways of war, that are cunning, intelligent and opportunistic, enemies that will not hesitate to exploit any weakness you present. We are also fighting enemies that are of a nature unknown to anyone but everyone on this ship."

He let those words sink in for a moment. "That means that, in order to allow you to perform your duties in a capable manner, there are oversights that need to be corrected. The first of these is what I have noticed is an aversion to wearing your helmets at all times, even when off duty. I do not know why your superiors did not correct this oversight, but it will be corrected, here and now. Your armor, combined with your helmet and bodysuit, is your uniform. To wear your armor, but not your helmet, is to not only expose yourselves unnecessarily, it is to disrespect the Spartans and all those that serve in the Spartan Corps. Am I understood?"

"Permission to speak, sir?" one of the Spartan-IVs, Corporal Howard, asked.

"Granted," Chief said.

"Why should we wear our helmets all the time? With all due respect, sir, we wear them whenever we go on operations outside of the Infinity. Shouldn't we be allowed to take them off when not on duty?"

While the questions were phrased in an innocent manner, Chief knew that they were dangerous questions. Time to educate them on why they need to wear these helmets. Stepping to the side slightly, he said, "Corporal Howard Jones. Who are the individuals you see behind me?"

Corporal Howard looked at them. "Private Anthony Stewart, Corporal Clark James and… Alexia Jones."

Chief immediately noted the hesitation. "Is there a problem, Corporal?"

"Y-Yes. Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted," Chief said.

"Alexia was my sister. She and I both qualified for entry into the Spartan Corps. When she died, she…" His voice quavered and he trailed off, but his expression remained stoic.

Chief nodded sympathetically. He knew the pain of losing a sibling as intimately as Howard did. Memories from over thirty three years ago flashed unbidden through his mind. Banishing them, he said, "Understood, Corporal. Can you tell me how each of them died?"

Howard nodded, eyes flashing with grief. "Their helmets were off, sir. Without their helmets, there was nothing between them and a hard-light round or even plasma bolts."

"Correct," Chief said. "Records say that you were injured when you were shot in the head. Why did you survive when they didn't?"

"Because I wore my helmet, sir. I always do, aside from today. It's a habit that I carried with me from the Marine Corps, sir."

"And that is exactly why you survived. Step forward, Corporal." Once Howard did, Chief said, "Howard's answer illustrates to you why you should wear your helmets at all times. Your helmets are made from the most advanced materials and with the most advanced technologies ever created by the brilliant minds within the UNSC Corps of Engineers and science divisions. Each of them is equipped with advanced motion trackers, VISR vision modes and the Heads-Up Display for offensive capabilities.

"Defensively, your helmets are designed to use highly advanced materials to stop small arms fire from penetrating through to your heads. In addition, your helmets are responsible for projecting the energy shields designed to serve as another layer of protection for your heads, and they are responsible for protecting you from chemical, radiological and biological threats. Without those helmets, you are depriving yourselves of the equipment you need as Spartans. Worst of all, you are deliberately exposing yourself to an enemy that will not hesitate to exploit that opening.

"This single fact becomes even more important when you are dealing with an enemy who can bypass the Infinity's exterior defenses and teleport directly inside the ship. When dealing with such a threat, you must be prepared, at any given moment, to engage them. Without proper training and protection, including your helmets, you will not be able to defend the ship when needed. If you do not correct this habit…" He made a motion with a finger.

There was a quiet POP, then Howard recoiled when something struck him in the head. He instinctively reacted, raising a hand to shield his forehead. When he pulled it away, he found himself looking at a sticky, magenta colored substance. "Stun rounds," he grumbled, rubbing at the bruise forming on his skull. "Fuck! I knew I should've worn my helmet!"

"Exactly. As you saw with Corporal Howard, you are to wear your helmet at all times when on duty. If you do not, then during training, you will receive a stun round to the head to drive the point home." He snapped his fingers.

Kelly-087 walked into view from behind a pair of crates. Fred-104 seemed to melt into view from behind a series of bushes near the port side of the room. Up above, Chief spotted an amusing sight; the holographic sky had a pair of arms and an MA5D sticking out like some strange cartoonish prop. Moments later, another Spartan, Linda-054, dropped down, performing a flip before landing on her feet.

"Damn," Howard deadpanned. "Should've thought about that."

"Same here," Horatio Fry, the head of Fireteam Shadow, said. "That actually surprised me. Nice work."

"Indeed. As such, I expect all of you to heed this lesson well. You are not children. You are not raw recruits anymore. I should not have to use the threat of physical pain and humiliation to make you understand the importance of having full armor coverage. You are now Spartans, and you are to act like Spartans without exception.

"I expect all of you to treat your armor as though it is your uniform, which means that you are to wear all of it, including your helmets when you are on duty. Only when you are off duty will you be allowed to take your armor off, but you will not remove your bodysuit. When on shore leave, you will be allowed to wear normal clothes. Failure to comply will first be met with restrictions to your R&R activities and add other duties as disciplinary action. Should that fail, demotions will be next, along with being confined to quarters. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the others replied.

"Very good," Chief said."I have also noticed another oversight that needs to be corrected." Turning to Howard, he asked, "Corporal Howard, how many variants of GEN2 MJÖLNIR are there?"

"105, sir," Howard said.

"Correct. As you all are well aware, each of these variants is designed with a unique purpose in mind, from enhancing combat underwater, to EVA operations. Some even include the use of Forerunner technology, such as the Prefect variant. This diversity of armor is something that Spartan-IIs such as myself have never had before, which makes the fact that you do not use these specialized versions of MJÖLNIR Powered Armor all the more surprising. An operator's armor must change in addition to their weapon loadouts to match the situation before them. This tactical inflexibility that you have demonstrated cannot be tolerated any further. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the others shouted.

"Very good. For those of you out of uniform, return to your quarters and retrieve your helmets. Those of you that are properly prepared, you will be organized into teams of five, whereupon you will begin running war game simulations. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the others replied.

"Very good. Get to it!" The other Spartans immediately left. Before Howard left, Chief came over to him and said, "Howard?"

"Yes?" Howard asked.

"You have my sympathies over the loss of your sister. Let her memory be a reminder to you for what you are fighting for, and why you must follow proper protocol. Understood?"

Howard nodded. "Yes sir!" he said, his previous confidence returning. "Thank you, sir!" With that, Chief allowed him to leave.

He was about to step out himself when he heard Alan asked, "Sir? Permission to speak?"

"Granted."

"With all due respect, sir, why are you leaving? Is it to grab your armor?"

An astute observation, Chief noted. "Yes," he said.

"All right," Alan said.

"Who's going to be our opposition?" Commander Palmer asked.

Chief looked at her. "Us."

Palmer did a double take. "Well… shit."

"Looks like we're about to have the professionals kick our asses," Alan said. "To be fair, we do kinda deserve it, after all that's happened." He sighed. "At least we'll be learning valuable lessons."

. . .

To say that Chief was disappointed was like saying the sky was blue. I had a feeling that the Spartan IVs were not where they needed to be, he thought. What I didn't expect was that it was this bad.

He shook his head. According to his team's evaluations, almost all of the Spartan IV fireteams had failed their training objectives, be they rescuing a VIP from an enemy position, or sabotaging the enemy's defenses in preparation for an invasion. Throughout the entire training session, he and the rest of Blue Team had acted as the enemy.

The only exceptions to this rule are Fireteams Osiris, Shadow and Dagger, he noted. Not only did they work as a coherent team throughout the entire mission, they completed their objectives and were able to 'neutralize' my team. Osiris were a tad excessive in their use of their weapons, but they succeeded. Dagger, however, used the appropriate amount of firepower when needed, as did Shadow.

He looked at one of Linda's notes. While most members of Fireteam Osiris worked well with each other, Buck seemed to be performing well above the usual metric. Linda's notes indicate that he was a former ODST, he observed. Interesting. We'll mark him out for further training. Why he isn't leading his own fireteam is a mystery to me.

Howard's fireteam, while having failed, had come very close to succeeding. While the head of the fireteam had made some bad choices, Howard had not only rallied the team multiple times, he had given clear, concise orders that would've enabled their success. The only reason why they didn't succeed is because of Sergeant Townley overruling him, Chief observed. I'll have him in charge of Fireteam Grizzly in the next training session.

Beyond that, the notes were much the same. The Spartan IV Fireteams had problems with unit cohesion and respect in terms of actual ranks and authority. Some had even used tactics that were so poor that they baffled him. If the Spartan IVs continue like this, the aura of invincibility that the Spartans have will be destroyed. The Storm Covenant will use such an opportunity to their advantage, so much so that we may face even more difficulties in the future. He frowned. That cannot be allowed to happen. We will reshape the Spartan IVs into the elite soldiers they need to be.

Closing the datapad, he proceeded towards the next order of business that he had to take care of. Rounding the corner in the hallway, he quickly came to one of the many doors on the crew deck; he recognized it as Palmer's quarters. A quiet beep sounded off when he pressed the button. His sharp ears quickly picked out the sound of someone moving to the door. "Yes?" a voice asked.

"Commander Palmer," Chief asked.

"RADM-117," Palmer said. "Need anything?"

"I would like to speak with you."

"All right," Palmer said. "Come on in." The door to Palmer's quarters slid open. Chief proceeded inside, then closed the door behind him.

He glanced around Palmer's quarters. As was expected, Palmer's quarters were well organized and meticulously cleaned. A line of holophotos on one side of the wall depicted her in ODST armor. Strange, he noted. No pictures of family. Then he remembered reading up on Palmer's past.

Dismissing that line of thought, he looked at Palmer herself. She was currently sitting behind her desk, dressed in her off-duty uniform, which consisted solely of the bodysuit she wore. On her laptop, he could tell that she was going over the same evaluation reports that Blue Team had sent him earlier.

Looking up at him, she asked, "What do you want to talk about?"

"The Spartan IVs,' Chief said. "They have some difficulties, but not insurmountable ones. However, I wanted to discuss some additional problems, particularly with some of your actions."

His hands twitched. While he had nothing against Palmer professionally, he had quite a bit against her personally. She shot the one person that saw you as more than a machine, a vengeful and bitter part of his mind said. It would be so easy to give her the beating she deserves, wouldn't it?

He sighed. It would be easy just to lay in on Palmer, but he knew better than to do that. Not only was it against regulations to beat her into a bloody stupor, he was better than that. Better to sacrifice my ego to ensure that any problems we have are fixed in the long run. It reminded him of a chess game that he'd once played against Halsey.

"I see," Palmer said, unaware of Chief's internal struggle. "I had a feeling that you'd give me a more thorough dressing down than when you did when you were promoted."

"Correct. I'll be blunt, Commander. Thus far, you've shown that you have problems that are hampering both your capabilities as a commander, and the Spartan IVs ability to do the job. You've shown that you are impulsive and have a severe lack of professionalism that is astonishing. You've also committed dereliction of duty at times as well."

Palmer frowned. A groaning sound came from her hands, which were clenching part of the table like steel vices. Releasing them from the pressure, she said, "I suppose that I did make a few mistakes. I will admit that."

"Indeed," Chief said. "I will tell you this. I do not like you. You attempted to assassinate someone that is very close to me."

"What do you mean?" Palmer asked. Then realization blossomed onto her face. "You saw my mission recordings?"

"Yes," Chief said, "specifically, the recordings that show you actively attacking Dr. Halsey during the Requiem Campaign. I'll be honest with you, Palmer. I was very close to marching down here and assaulting you, or otherwise giving you a two step demotion from your current rank. However, I chose not to because not only is that unprofessional, I also need you."

That surprised Palmer. "Need me?" she asked. "Why?"

"As much as I dislike you, Palmer, I have to work with you for the greater good of Humanity. That also means that I must train you as well."

Palmer crossed her arms, a flash of irritation crossing her face. "So, you're going to chew me out because you actually 'care' about me?"

"If I didn't care, Commander Palmer, I'd have berated you in front of the other Fireteams. I did not for two reasons. The first is that doing so would have been bad for morale and it would have undermined your authority. The other is that, as flawed as the Spartan IV program is, I want it to succeed. Humanity will need its elite soldiers for when we go to war against the Galactic Empire.

"As such, the Spartan IV project cannot be allowed to fail. It must succeed, or we will not have the Spartans that can go on missions that the Army and Marines, or even the ODSTs, would otherwise fail or complete with excessive casualties. In order for the Spartan IVs to live up to those expectations, they must be properly led. They must have competent commanding officers that are level headed, capable of delegation and trained to maintain a comprehensive view of the battlefield and the enemy.

"I will not be around forever, Palmer. Sooner or later, Blue Team will be reassigned, and my rank will change depending on what HIGHCOM's decision is when we reestablish contact. They must have someone capable of leading them, and I believe that either you or Buck have what it takes to be that leader."

Palmer was silent. She had never taken Chief as someone that could deliver a speech capable of moving someone. The fact that she had her full attention directed towards him and his words showed her otherwise. "I take it that, before I or Buck can take on that position, there are some flaws that need to be corrected."

"Yes," Chief said. "With that in mind, we'll begin by going over some of your actions at Requiem. The first is when you deserted your post while Fireteam Crimson was performing an operation on Requiem's surface."

Palmer's eyes narrowed. "I was busy interrogating a prisoner -"

"-that Roland and Captain Lasky were more than capable of doing so by themselves," Chief interrupted. "Throughout that entire meeting, you had your COM switched off, which made it impossible for Miller to contact you when the mission went FUBAR. The only reason why Fireteam Crimson survived is due to Miller's ability to improvise.

"That cannot be allowed to happen again, Commander. You are no longer the leader of a platoon of ODSTs. It is imperative that you keep your COM on so that you can be contacted by our subordinates when they require assistance or new orders from you. To not do so is not only abandoning your post, it is dereliction of duty; it's nothing personal, but I will not allow Spartan IV casualties to be incurred due to them being unable to reach their CO. Am I understood?"

Palmer frowned. What irritated her wasn't that Chief was being rude or forceful. What irritated her the most was that he was right to call her out for this sort of behavior. "Understood," she said with a slight growl. "Where else did I fuck up?"

"Your behavior towards the rest of the crew of the Infinity," Chief said. "According to audio and video logs, you made a number of disparaging comments about the scientists and engineers of the Infinity, as well as the Marine Corps. According to some, you specifically referred to the engineers and scientists as 'eggheads.'"

He clasped his hands together. "Such disparaging remarks cannot be tolerated, Commander Palmer. The Spartan Corps exist not only due to HIGHCOMs orders, it exists because of the men and women that have the intelligence and technical capability to ensure that the Spartan Corps remains fully operational. By making these disparaging comments towards them, you are not only undervaluing their expertise and technical knowledge, you are leading the other Spartan IVs to form a negative opinion of those individuals."

This time, Palmer's irritation flashed over. "Is it wrong for me to gripe about the Marine Corps inability to get the job done in three days when my own Spartans can do the job in ten minutes?! There isn't a single person that could hold a candle to my troopers, and you know it!"

"That is where you are wrong," Chief said. "There are many individuals that have done so on more than one occasion, individuals such as Sergeant Avery J. Johnson, Captain Jacob Keyes, Commander Miranda Keyes, Private Chips Dubbo and Sergeant Marvin Mobuto. They were individuals that performed above and beyond the call of duty.

"There are also multiple historical figures that contest your claims, figures such as Audie Murphy, Lauri Alan Törni, Simo Häyhä and Sir Adrian Carton de Wiart. Need I remind you, Commander, that the first of those individuals was rejected multiple times for not meeting physical requirements listed by the United States Army. Not only did he serve admirably throughout the Second World War, he was widely lauded as a war hero and he even overcame a severe case of PTSD.

"As for the others, Simo Häyhä, also known as the 'White Death', was the scion of a simple farmer, but became one of the most feared snipers during the Winter War and WWII. Lauri Alan Törni was the son of a ship captain, but he went on to serve under the Finnish Army, Wehrmacht and US Army Rangers, during which he won several medals, including the Cross of Mannerheim, Iron Cross, Bronze Star and the Distinguished Flying Cross. Sir Adrian Carton de Wiart participated throughout the first World War and the Second World War despite having multiple injuries that would have rendered him ineligible for military service in the UNSC."

He leaned in closer to Palmer. "The fact of the matter, Palmer, is that if those men were, by some miracle of science, here and alive today, I would gladly choose them over you and the other Spartan IVs. There are only a few exceptions to that assessment, but the point still stands."

Palmer flinched as though she'd been slapped in the face. The fact that the Master Chief, one of the greatest super soldiers in the history of Humanity, was willing to choose normal men and women to be his squadmates, said a lot about the state of the Spartan Corps. Has the Spartan Corps degraded so badly as for him to suggest that? she wondered.

"Then there is the matter of your personal operation on Draetheus V," Chief said. "While I commend your ability to get the job done, you made a very foolish decision in choosing to engage Merg 'Vol by yourself. Had you been defeated, there would have been no one left to carry out the mission and you would have died there. As the Commander of the Spartan IVs onboard the Infinity, you cannot risk yourself like that. You have to delegate important tasks like that to someone below your position."

Palmer sighed. "I made a mistake there. I will acknowledge that. You'd think that I'd be happy to have screwed up. Why aren't you?"

"Because I'm not," Chief said. "I'm not happy with the fact you made a mistake. I'm disappointed because I expected more from a soldier of your caliber. You have a lot of promise, Commander Palmer. You were an excellent ODST, with a CSV that many would be envious of, but you must realize that you are not perfect. You must realize that you are fallible and that the only way to become better is to acknowledge your mistakes, swallow your pride, analyze those mistakes, and then learn from them, so that you never repeat them again."

"What do you know of making mistakes?" Palmer asked. "What would the great 'Spartan-117' know what it's like to make mistakes?"

Is that what they say of me? he thought. That I am some infallible god of war? He sighed. "More than you think," he said. Moving closer, he asked, "Would you mind me telling you a story?"

"Sure," Palmer said. "If there's a point to it."

"There is. When I was recruited into the Spartan-II Program, I was a bullheaded and reckless young man that felt that he had no use for teammates. That pride was beaten out of me when, during a training exercise, I left behind my team and completed the objective by myself. Chief Mendez, however, punished me severely for doing so, stating that if one man won at the expense of his team, then the team lost.

"I was understandably angry, but then I realized it. In leaving my team behind like that, I had effectively discarded them like they were a piece of trash, like I had no use for them. As a young man eager for approval, you can imagine how shocked I was to learn that I had done the exact opposite of what I should have. I had a choice then: I could continue on like I was, ignoring my team and causing them to lose, or I could swallow my pride, learn from my mistakes, and in doing so, become not just a better person, but a better squad leader."

He looked at Palmer. "You face a similar crossroads now, Palmer. You can either choose to ignore the advice and lessons you are being taught, and continue to have problems like you did at Requiem, or you can learn from those mistakes, swallow your pride and become not just a better person, but a better Spartan. It's your choice."

"You speak about it like it's so easy," Palmer said. Leaning back, she ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "In fact, part of the difficulty is what you told us before the evaluation exercise began. I'm dealing with an enemy that we are not accustomed to dealing with, an enemy that is opportunistic, cunning and intelligent. I'm also under intense political pressure to get the UNSC dazzling victories in order to reassure the populace that a war like what happened seven to eight years ago won't happen again."

She sighed, then rested her face on her hands. "None of them understand the reality of what I'm facing here. Jul 'Mdama doesn't fight like the Covenant. He fights more like the Rebel Alliance; always willing to strike hard and then fade into the background. Then there are the Prometheans, and they… they're a wild card able to bypass our defenses and attack us on our own turf. Until the eg… er… scientists and engineers figure out a way to counter them, we'll always be on the backfoot facing them."

Chief listened intently. Poor leadership and political pressure from above. He frowned. That combination was enough to break even the best soldiers.

He surprised Palmer when he rested a hand on her shoulder, rubbed it gently. "I know," he said, "and you're right. No one in the Spartan Corps, myself and Blue Team included, have ever fought anyone like Jul 'Mdama before, nor have we ever fought something like the Prometheans before. However, you've shown that they are not unbeatable, that we can defeat them and complete our duty. You can be proud of that much at least."

Palmer smiled bitterly. "Yeah," she said. "I'll do what I can to fix those errors, and you're right. It would be stupid of me not to learn from someone more experienced than I am, and I learned that when I was an ODST. There's something else as well."

"And that would be?"

"I didn't receive officer training," Palmer said. "I was just fast tracked into the position of Commander. I asked for training in that regard, but the political situation made that practically impossible."

That had Chief puzzled more than anything. They didn't give her the requisite training she needs as an officer? he thought. It was unheard of. Even I was given officer training at the Reach Naval Officer Academy during my training as a Spartan. "They did not give you the training you needed?"

"Yeah," Palmer said, "which is why I would like to request a demotion to Fireteam Leader. You've seen it yourself: I don't have the training needed to get the job done, and that's caused me to make very poor decisions."

"Would you still be amenable to officer training?"

"That would be nice," Palmer agreed. "However, at this time, I can't lead the Spartan IVs. We need someone that can effectively lead them, someone like you, sir. You've definitely shown that you've got what it takes. If you had been the Spartan Commander at Requiem, the Storm Covenant wouldn't have stood a chance and we'd have Requiem still."

A tad optimistic, Chief thought. "I see. In that case, your reasons are quite valid. Very well, if you wish to be demoted to Fireteam Leader, then that is what will happen and I will become the interim Spartan Command for all Spartan IVs onboard the Infinity. Are you certain that you want this?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then consider it done," Chief said. "I will be commanding the Spartan IVs while other candidates for the position are reviewed and interviewed. The next training session starts tomorrow, at 0700 hours and will be continuing for the next three days." Walking to the door, he stepped outside of it.

Once the door closed, Palmer sighed and rested her head on her hands. I cannot believe that I've been so dumb! she thought. I've been given a privilege that few other would get, and here I am, wasting it like some raw recruit in boot camp! She took a breath, then let it out. Well, Chief's right. I can't let that continue. I have to be better than this. Heading to her bunk bed, she laid down in it. Might as well get some shuteye for tomorrow.

. . .

Three days later, Palmer walked inside of her quarters. Sweat dripped from her forehead and her body ached and hurt everywhere. Lying down on her bunk, she groaned as more aches and pains made themselves known. Hope the meds kick in soon, she thought. I'd rather not wake up sore again.

She remembered the reason why she was now aching so much. RADM-117 and Blue Team are really pushing us hard, she thought. I wonder how they even manage to do it. Never faltering and never tiring, despite constantly rotating, drilling and testing each group to the limits of their capabilities. And they're still kicking our asses too.

She huffed. It was hard not to feel frustrated, especially after working with Fireteam Majestic. Just like the past few days, the Spartan IV Fireteams had failed to complete their objectives, with the exceptions of Fireteams Osiris and Dagger. Surprisingly, Fireteam Grizzly had also completed their training objectives, something she attributed to Howard and his ability to improvise like crazy. I must admit, kamikaze charging the Master Chief while the others get the VIP away was an inspired tactic. The fact that he succeeded is… encouraging.

She was about to close her eyes when the buzzer to her door beeped. Fighting off the exhaustion, she stood up and looked at the feed to her door. When she saw the face on the other side, she said, "Captain Lasky, need anything?"

"Mind if we talk?" Lasky asked.

"Sure." Opening the door, she permitted Lasky to come inside. "So, what do you need?"

"Coming to check in on you," Lasky said. "I've seen the war games footage for myself. Chief and the others are pile-driving you through the meat grinder."

"That he is," Palmer muttered. "He's making the S-IVs look like rookies at boot camp, but if it makes them better Spartans, then so be it."

"True," Lasky said. "I have to admit, even I was surprised by how poorly the Spartan IVs were performing during the evaluation exercises. Cole himself even said that he'd never seen Spartans perform so badly and was even worried that this might happen on the battlefield. That being said, I wanted to know what Chief talked to you about. I hear that he gave you quite a dressing down."

"That he did," Palmer agreed. She quickly told Lasky what the Master Chief had told her, including that one training exercise he'd been on.

When she finished, Lasky nodded. "He's right," he said. "The only way for you and the Spartan IVs to get better is to learn from their mistakes and move on. Hell, even I've screwed up more than once."

"Like back at Requiem?" Palmer asked.

"Exactly. The moment we retrieved that Forerunner artifact, I should've had the artifact taken to one of the Infinity's sub-vessels, as per protocol. But no… I chose to bring a potentially dangerous artifact onboard the Infinity, and because of that token of my stupidity, I ended up endangering the lives of everyone onboard the ship! All because I was impatient and wanted to find a quick and easy way to defeat the Prometheans or even turn them to our side!" He kicked at the deck, eliciting a dull thud. "What an idiot I was!"

"You had no way of knowing what would happen."

"True, but I should have chosen the path of caution anyways," Lasky grumbled. "Had I done so, not only would the Infinity have not been tied down, we'd have done a hell of a lot more damage to 'Mdama's operations than we did. We might've even been able to force him off of Requiem for good, then turned the Prometheans to our side." He sighed. "The old adage of 'hindsight being twenty-twenty' is true, though. Gotta learn from the mistake and move on."

"Very true," Palmer agreed. "Took me a hell of a lot longer to learn that lesson again."

"That's all right," Lasky reassured her. "After all, we are only human." Looking at the time, he said, "I shouldn't keep you any longer. Get some rest, Fireteam Leader. You've earned it."

"Thank you, sir," Palmer said. "Hopefull, we'll get better eventually."

"At this rate, hope will be all that we've got."