Kurt watched the pelicans fly in. The six jet-powered craft roared through the air as the sun set behind him in the island of Fair Isle. He was dressed up for the ceremony that night, wearing his Mjolnir armour and preparing himself as did before the induction of every class of Spartans. This one would different though. This class would be the smallest class of Spartans, with fewer applicants than his own generation. However, unlike the first class of the Spartan-IIs, with the advanced bio-augmentation regime, Kurt was sure that every one of the applicants who made through the training would survive to become spartans.
"Time sure does fly, doesn't it?" Mendez asked, standing beside the man, almost exactly the same positions they had held when Alpha company had arrived on Onyx more than twenty years ago.
"Sometimes." Kurt answered. "Just glad we're not starting from scratch."
"Hmph." Mendez grunted, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Sometimes I think it's too good to be true." Kurt said, glancing over at the Plataea embedded in the ground. "I feel like any moment I'll wake up and I'll still be standing there, waiting for Alpha to show up."
"Getting sentimental on me, sir?" Mendez chuckled.
"Just wondering. About this place, about what we'll have to give up to survive, what we have to change to make peace."
"Wolfpack's plan got you thinking?"
"I could ask any one of mine and they wouldn't hesitate. They'd make the sacrifice without so much as blinking. But..."
"But?"
"I wonder. We've trained them up, made them the best they could possibly be, but I wonder what it cost them sometimes."
"Most'd be dead if they weren't here."
"I don't regret bringing them in. I never will, but should I ask them to give up even more."
"Could always go with one of the other plans. Xi sounds pretty good all things considered."
"It's about more than just logistics chief."
"You're letting your gut make calls that you should leave to your head."
"If I hadn't trusted my gut as much as I do, I wouldn't be here, and neither would any of them."
"Maybe, but the girl's gotten too close. She's compromised. Didn't think I'd ever see the day."
"None of us are perfect chief, and after all her reports, if there was someone to get compromised over, they aren't the worst she could do."
"Still doesn't make her plan less of an emotional appeal.
"True, but Jane's plan requires some sacrifice and some forcefulness, I'll have to speak to her about it."
"Tell her she got Rodriguez and Song's votes."
The two stood in silence as the six ships touched down on the ground, their doors opened and out of them a small force of children stormed out. The combined passengers that made up Delta Company numbered no more than seventy, with the children bearing different looks from across the Seven Kingdoms. Kurt, not for the first time, wondered about what he was doing. Spartans were weapons of war, and outside the petty squabbles the natives were having over the throne, the UNSC now existed in a world where the most any of his spartans could do was wander on reconnaissance missions or occasionally fight in small skirmishes. Kurt banished the doubt from his mind. No matter the slim chances, there was still the chance that they might make it back to UNSC space and if the war was still raging, then even sixty new spartans would be invaluable to the war effort.
At the very least, it was easier to herd the group of sixty children than it was when he had had to control any of his earlier companies. Clearing his voice and allowing his helmet's speakers to carry his voice, the camp had not had a full PA system installed, he pulled attention to himself from all of the assembled candidates. As they all turned to look at him, he saw that the spartans he had sent out to recruit the members of Delta company stood beside their various pelicans.
"Attention recruits." Kurt said, his voice carrying across the small field and further drawing the eyes of his newest candidates. "I am Captain Kurt Ambrose. Captain of the Plataea and Lord of Fair Isle. All of you have been gathered here today in order to join us. All of you have been given instructions by your guides."
Together, the assembled group turned around to view their various guides, stationed next to the pelicans.
"However, we cannot accept you if you aren't ready. Because of this, you will be tested." Kurt gestured to the spartans surrounding the groups as well as sets of drill instructors who had been responsible for training previous spartan generations.
"Chief." He said, turning over the floor to the drill sergeant as the older man stepped forwards and commanded the attention of the entire cohort without so much as a word.
"Alright, you want to be Spartans? Get back on those ships, now."
They stood stock still, staring between Mendez and the ships.
"No?" Mendez snarled. "I guess we've found our first washouts."
He pointed to one of the kids, a boy standing near the front of the group.
"You."
The boy just stared back at Mendez, a look of shock, confusion and fear blooming on his face. As soon as the others turned to look at him, he shook his head, face setting into an expression of determination.
"No?" Mendez asked again. "Then get back on those ships."
Together, as one, they turned around and headed back to their ships, some were redirected so that on each of the pelicans, the kids were divided equally.
"Instructors." Mendez barked, getting looks from the six drill instructors who were standing ready at each ship. "You know the drill."
"Sir, yes sir." They announced, following the recruits into the ships before the door closed and the Pelicans rose into the air, flying off into the sky as the sun finally set over the ocean.
"Once more into the breach then." Kurt said.
"Aye sir, looks like it." Mendez grunted, heading to the command post where they would track the descents of their new spartans.
Shiera stood alongside nearly sixty other children as they were assembled together on the cliffs of Fair Isle. It was a surreal experience for the young girl. Even at four years old, she had seen a map before, and understood at least in some small way just how far apart King's Landing and Fair Isle were. And yet she was here, standing before the Sunset sea with the looming form of the castle-ship Plataea casting a shadow across the island. They had left King's Landing only the day before, crossing the whole of Westeros and arriving only minutes ago. The flying ships that they had been packed into say on the ground and the group of children brought from King's Landing found themselves surrounded by others. Most of the other children had formed their own groups, and she could see that few of them were as large as their own.
Still though, they had been out on the ground only long enough for Lord Terra to make an announcement before they were herded back onto their ships. Shiera noticed that there were fewer of them now than there were when they had arrived, and as she entered into her ship, she noticed some of the others being moved to other ships.
"Alright you lot." The man who had replaced Ser Shane said as he check over their packs.
Ser Shane had had them put them on before they had left King's Landing, and Shiera's legs had been sore ever since. The packs likely weighed as much as her, but she hadn't complained, and neither had any of the others. Ser Shane had told them that being a spartan was hard, but Shiera had seen what a spartan was. Lady Jane, Ser Robert and Ser Shane, not to mention Lord Terra. Spartans were bigger than anyone, stronger than anyone. She'd lived on the streets of Flea Bottom, begging for scraps and coins wherever she could to bring back to her parents. Her mother had been a whore, working at one of the more reputable establishments in the city's slum, while her father had been a tanner's apprentice before he had been dismissed for abuse of his master's drink and coin.
Shiera been sent out to beg for coin when she had been old enough, as younger children, especially pretty ones like her, were somewhat more likely to get a coin or two from passers-by.
Then Lord Terra had come through the city. He had stopped and given away silver to the beggars who crowded around the horses of visitors, alongside his three companions. Shiera had been one of the children who had fought to get to the man's horse, but had been pushed away by the older children and sent into the mud, cutting her face. By the time she had gotten up from the storm of other children that had almost trampled her, Lord Terra had been all out of silver to give.
Shiera had been crushed, angry, hurt, but most of all, she was resolved. She would not cry, she wouldn't. It seemed that Lord Terra had appreciated that and had gifted her more than a piece of silver. In her hands, put there by the tall man, was a golden dragon, the largest piece of currency in the realm. She had old ever heard of gold dragons before, they were spoken of like fairies or dragons themselves, as something magical, something that they would likely never see. But there she was, with a little circle of gold clutched tightly in her first and a small cloth.
"Run home." He had said. "Take this. Don't let anyone see it. Run home and buy some food."
She had obeyed, rushing through the alleyways of Flea Bottom until she was back home. As she had entered into the small hovel that her family called their home, she saw her mother and father, sitting together at the small table that was one of the only things they had in the way of furniture. She had smiled at them and shown them the golden coin she had been gifted.
Rather than be happy, than praise her for bringing back such a treasure. Her father and mother had berated her, accused her of stealing, or worse. She had cried when her father had snatched the coin, biting into it for some reason she barely understood, and slapped her for being a thief.
She remembered little of the day after that, just going to bed with a sore cheek as her parents had chattered over how to spend the coin she had brought back. She had clutched the small cloth close to her chest that night, and every night since, seeing the lord who had shown her kindness and given her a piece of magic.
When the tall man who called himself Ser Shane had appeared on their doorstep a few moons later, she wondered about the lord who had given her a dragon. The tall man had asked for her, having found her somehow, and after some clacking of metal, she had been told to gather what few things that she had, mostly pieces of clothing.
Her mother had pulled her aside when she had left, and kissed her on her forehead.
"Live well, Shiera. Live better than us."
That was the last thing she had heard from her mother before she had been taken from her home. She had been brought by Ser Shane up Aegon's high hill, into the Red Keep itself. The seat of royalty. She had served in the household of Lady Jane, at least that was what the rest of the castle had been told, and she had helped out where she could.
Today though, today was going to be her big chance. Her opportunity to finally prove that Lord Terra, Ser Shane and Lady Jane had made the right choice in taking her in, in letting her become a spartan.
The door of the 'ship' as Ser Shane had called it opened, revealing the twilight sky, The final colours of the sunset were dulling and the stars were appearing with the moon hanging alongside them. Below them, Shiera thought she could see the barest glimpses of what looked like the ground and suddenly she realised just where they were.
"Check the straps on your packs." Called an older man, not like Ser Shane or Lady Jane, he wasn't as tall. "Report any looseness now."
Neither Shiera, nor anyone else said anything after they had tugged at the straps of their packs.
"You will form a line." The older man said. "Then you will jump."
Shiera couldn't have been the only one of them staring, because the man's face changed into a scoff.
"After you jump, you will count to ten and pull this."
The man gestured to a red handle that was on the shoulder of his pack. Shiera looked at her own, seeing the handle was in the same place on her own.
"Some confusion will be expected."
No one made a move. Shiera felt her feet freeze to the cold metal floor.
"If you cannot do this." The man said. "You cannot be Spartans. It's up to you."
That sent a spike of fear up Shiera's back. If she couldn't be a Spartan, then it would mean that Ser Shane had taken her in for nothing. It would mean that Lady Jane was wrong to believe in her, as she had said when Shiera had been brought into her service. Most importantly, it meant that Lord Terra was wrong. Wrong when he had sent Ser Shane to retrieve her, wrong to place her with Lady Jane. But most importantly, it meant he was wrong when he had given her that golden dragon, when he had given her a glimpse of something beyond Flea Bottom, a look at magic.
"I'll go first ser." She yelled out, raising her hand and stepping forwards.
"Good girl." The man nodded. "Go right to the edge, hand on to the guideline."
Shiera tried to be brave, she tried to walk normally, but instead her fear betrayed her, and she squeaked forwards with tiny steps, each one inching her mere inches forwards.
She reached the edge of the ramp, seeing the world spilled out before her, She saw it in the fading twilight, the ocean spreading out in every direction, and a small speck of green with an even smaller speck of grey that she though might be the castle-ship she had hoped to become a part of.
'Live well, Shiera. Live better than us.'
She heard her mother's voice again, the same words she'd said when she had left, and her resolve hardened. Taking a final deep breath, she leapt into the air.
Immediately she lost all sense of direction. Without the ground under her feet, or the ship, it became impossible for her to tell which way was up. The horizon shifted and spun, even as it faded and the night truly set in. She screamed, but the sound was lost in the rushing wind as she felt herself getting lightheaded.
'Count to ten and pull this.'
The barest hints of clarity allowed Shiera to focus. The red handle! She remembered that the man had told her to pull it. Looking over at her shoulder, she saw the faint colour in the darkness. She reached for it, but the wind sent her arm flailing as she failed to grab it.
Her chest felt empty, her heart pounded in her ears and Shiera was sure that she was going to die. She was going to die from falling out of the sky. Unless she pulled that handle. The handle was the only thing that could save her. If she pulled the handle, she could live, she could become like Lord Terra, Like Lady Jane and Ser Shane. She could be a Spartan.
'No.' She shook her head, and allowed herself to take a gasping break from the raging wind. She would be a Spartan.
She reached up again, this time with both hands and grasped at the arm of her pack. She thought she saw red between her fingers and she pulled as hard as she could.
The spinning world jerked to a halt as the sound of ripping and the unfurling of cloth howled close enough that Shiera could hear it even over the rushing wind. Her legs snapped straight and her mouth snapped shut, thankfully without biting into her tongue, as the falling slowed in an instant and she found herself able to see the world clearly again.
Shiera panted, breathing deeply now that she was no longer scared that the wind would rip the air from her chest the second she tried to take more in. She turned her head to look around, seeing the last of the twilight fading away as she drifted in the air.
The world was not stationary though. The moon and stars rocked gently around her and she could see the massive thing above her that had spring from her pack blotted out the sky above her. She stared in wonder at it for a while, wondering how it was that this thing kept her safe in the sky when before she had been tumbling like a rock thrown from a high place.
Perhaps it was magic, like the gold dragon Lord Terra had given her. She wondered, would she ever get to see more of their magic. She hoped so, she had done as the man had asked. He had said that if they could to it, that they could be Spartans. Staring at the massive thing, Shiera almost didn't notice that the world seemed to be getting closer. It took a while, but Shiera wasn't willing to touch her magic pack, she didn't want to make it drop her again. She floated slowly back to the ground, seeing a field where light shined up into the sky. She didn't quite make it there, unable and unwilling to change her pack's course. As the ground came up under her, she tried to land as well as she could, just like when she and the other beggar had jumped over crates and stools to get to whoever it was they were asking for coin.
Her landing was less than graceful and she ended up tumbling end over end before she finally came to something resembling a stop. As she tried to get up, the massive thing, which she now saw looked like cloth, caught the wind and was pulled along, dragging her with it. She tried to fight it but she wasn't nearly strong enough. She realised that unless she wanted to be dragged for a while, she would have to get the pack off of herself.
She almost didn't want to. Better to be dragged a while than separate herself from the magic that helped her survive falling from the sky, but in the end, she undid the straps and sinches that secured her to the pack she had been carrying for almost a day.
Standing up, she was alone only for a moment before she saw someone running up to her in the shadows. Fear seized her for a moment, but she fought it as best she could. She had jumped out of the sky and fallen back to the ground. She had survived. Most importantly, she could be a Spartan now, just like the man said.
Out of the dark, a man wearing the same clothes as the man in the ship appeared, holding what looked like a very bright lantern and shining light on her.
"You ok girl?" He asked.
"Y-y-yes." She stammered, only then realising how much she was shaking.
"Good, where's your pack."
Shiera felt her face pale, but when she turned around she found that the pack hadn't drifted far. Pointing with a quivering hand, she saw the man point the light past her, seeing the pack and the mass of black material and nodding.
"Good job kid. Now let's get you back. The captain'll want all you newbies packed into bunks before it gets too late."
Shiera nodded, standing on shaky legs and following the man, first as he gathered her pack up and then as he marched her back to the clearing where Lord Terra had made his speech.
She saw that there were others there, but not many. She was likely one of the first, and she saw more coming out of the darkness.
"Alright." A voice said, and Sheira recognised Lord Terra with his massive form and green armour, lit up in lights even at night. "I want the first batches moved to the Plataea, when the rest come in, bring them in in groups the same way."
The man next to her ushered her over to a group of other children, only one of whom she recognised as being from her group from King's Landing. Together they were herded into another of the strange ships, though they were not given any new packs. As they were sat down, she felt the rumble of the strange metal flying machine lifting off the ground. Silent, she wondered what was next. She had proved she could be a Spartan, but what did that mean, when just the test meant jumping out into the night sky and learning to fly.
Shiera wasn't entirely sure, but if it meant she could see more of the magic, like the pack and the gold dragon, then she was happy to find out.
I just realised something stupid. I could have had Kurt do a whole coin flip thing with Shiera for the gold dragon. It would have been such great symmetry. Both with Halo and with Asoiaf. The coin flip with John and Halsey, and the flipped coin of madness of the Targaryens. Should I go back and add it in retroactively? I'd love some opinions.
As for some ideas. The reason why there are fewer Spartan candidates amongst the nobles is because of the restricted gene pool. Like look at today's royals. I really think that 'magic' blood isn't going to be doing much for the nobles, especially when we find out that things like skinchangers are far more known and common in amongst the wildlings than in 'southern' north. Also, none of that honestly makes me believe that they would be any more likely to have the necessary genes for Spartan enhancements.
Yes this chapter is a little late. Actually, it still counts since it's still Wednesday where I am when I'm posting this. Honestly I wrote almost all of it today. I was stuck on four-hundred words for the whole week and then today I just sat down and forced myself to write and it just poured out. I'm really happy with this deadline of one chapter a week I set since it forces me to actually sit down and focus. It really helps with writers block since even if I don't feel it's perfect. I can get it down and then edit it later, like I did with most of this chapter.