SPARTAN-V Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE // RECOVERING… SLOWLY
0800 HOURS // SPARTAN TRAINING BASE, PLANET [CLASSIFIED]
Shadow had been conscious for hours now, fighting off the heavy sedatives while still trying to make the medics believe she was still under. She was supposed to have been knocked out until midday at least, judging from what those stupid doctors kept muttering. God, her nose was itchy, but if she moved her hand to scratch it she’d give herself away. The cocktail of drugs they had pumped into her veins nearly seven and a half hours ago was enough to kill a Marine, but she was twelve and already taller – and heavier – than even the biggest of the poor bastards. And she had a higher metabolic rate. She wondered how they must have felt when the first of the Spartans had started to fight. Usurped? Definitely angry, or even jealous. How could anyone be jealous of what she’d been through? Ah, but the Marines had no idea what Spartans had to go through to become as good as they were. Yes, the first Spartans had taken the place that Marines had held for centuries – the top workhorses of the UNSC – and far outclassed them, but there was still a need for the annoying cowards. Or so the Master Chief had told her. Cannon fodder? Probably not, but it was a possibility. She reminded herself that she was only twelve, yet to see Marines in combat, and just one rank down from Ashke, equal – equal! – with Rhydian. The way she was headed, and at the rate she was going, she would outrank even the Master Chief before she even saw real combat!

Footsteps. MJOLNIR-clad footsteps. Either Rhydian was coming to check on the Reds, or Ashke was coming to check on the Blues. Or perhaps they’d sent someone. No, that was definitely Mark Ten. The footsteps sounded too heavy to be the Mark Nine that most of the SPARTAN-IVs wore. Yes, it was the Master Chief for sure. She never could fool Ashke into thinking things that were not true, which meant that soon her cover would be blown. It didn’t really matter, but she wanted to put off or even avoid the awkward questions that the medics would ask her if they knew she was awake. Painfully aware of eyes on her, she forced herself not to scratch her incredibly itchy nose. That was easier said than done, even for her.

Meanwhile, in the hall, Ashke paused, staring at the gold-plated nameplate on the door. It read “SPARTAN-V-013, Chief Petty Officer Shadow”. Shadow. Eerily similar to Shaide even in her name, this girl. And number! Shaide was SPARTAN-IV-310. It was in the eyes, Ashke told himself, that this girl and Shaide were so similar in looks. The girl pretending to still be out to the world had platinum blonde hair, whereas Shaide’s had been – no, WAS – strawberry blonde. It was the eyes, definitely the eyes. Those spooky ice-blue eyes… Taking a deep breath to calm his jittery nerves, Ashke pushed the door open and strode inside.

“I know you’re awake, trainee,” he said, his voice somewhat more threatening than he intended.

“I know you know, sir. Can’t fool the Master Chief,” Shadow sat up, then touched a hand to her forehead, “Ouch, I’d forgotten that sedatives give me headaches.”

“Didn’t they give you enough?”

Shadow laughed, “Oh, of course they gave me enough sedatives. They just didn’t give me a strong enough mix, I think, or I’d still have been out at oh-four-hundred.”

“Oh-four-hundred? Four hours ago?! The sedatives you were given were meant to last eleven hours, and they only lasted three! Why were you faking it, anyway?”

“I don’t like the awkward questions they always ask me when I wake up so long before I ‘should’,” Shadow said simply, “I’d have liked it if I’d been able to pretend I was still out until midday, when I was meant to wake up, but I heard you coming and I knew I couldn’t keep up the act with you around.”

Ashke nodded, “I’ve got other trainees to check on. Three hundred and ninety nine other trainees. And only two hours to check on them.”

“Wow, they like to give you tough deadlines.”

“You have no idea.”

Shadow watched the Master Chief duck his head so as to not hit the doorframe and walk out of the room, almost wishing he had been able to hang around, for the company if not anything else. She crossed her legs and pushed the rest of the blanket off herself onto the bed, noting the miniscule beads of dried blood on her skin. Almost like she’d been given a trillion injections, all in different places. The soles of her bare feet were painfully red, the palm of her left hand the same. Her right hand was pink and slightly swollen, and her entire body ached. Her bones, every single one of them, felt like they were on fire.

This is worse than last time, she thought, scowling, But at least I’m not the only one. It helps to know the others will be going through this when they wake up.

But earlier, before they had knocked her out, one of the doctors had told her that she was going to be augmented in a couple of additional ways to the others. One of the augmentations she already knew; she would heal faster than everyone else. The other she was yet to find out, but she suspected it had something to do with her right hand. Ashke had warned everyone about everything but a swollen hand…

She reached for the switch of the lamp on the table next to the bed, then remembered the curtains. No… The Marines would be able to see her if she opened the curtains. It wasn’t worth being seen in this state for the sake of a little natural light. She switched on the lamp and blinked for a few seconds as her eyes adjusted to the significantly brighter light now in the room. The harsh artificial light sharpened the shadows in the tiny room.

Finally able to see properly without straining her aching eyes, Shadow noticed a tiny scar on the back of her right hand. The medics had been right; she was amazed at how fast the scar was disappearing. Moments later, the skin on the back of her hand was unmarked. Perfectly smooth, as if nothing had happened. The only way she could tell it had happened was because of the fact that the swelling was unchanged. She rubbed her itching nose. There was a tiny bump just on the bridge of it, a tiny bump that indicated some sort of tracking device – perhaps her FOF tag? – embedded under her skin. So that was why it was itchy. Although her FOF tag would surely be embedded deeper, somewhere it could not easily be damaged. That somewhere was most likely in her neural implant. That was the only place it could possibly be, now that she thought about it. So what was the bump? Some sort of ID chip? That made sense. The Marines wore dog tags, but she had never seen a Spartan wearing them. Plus dog tags were too easily falsified, whereas something that was embedded under the skin would have to be cut out, and that would most likely leave a scar. She nodded. Smart thinking. Kudos to whoever thought of it. Perhaps it was the missing Spartan that Ashke was always talking about. She was meant to be intelligent. But then again, so were so many of the stupid medics she had to deal with on a weekly basis.

Running her middle finger over the bump again, Shadow considered the similarities between her and the missing Spartan. Shaide, her name was, and her number was as close to Shadow’s backwards as it came. Ashke had said Shaide was blonde haired and blue eyed like her, but something told her that the similarities did not end there.

“Found the ID chip, have we?”

Shadow jumped, “Um, yeah, I think so,” she showed the medic her right hand, “Is this meant to have happened?”

“No scar,” the medic muttered, “None at all…”

“There was one, but it disappeared pretty fast. I was told I’d heal faster than everyone else.”

“Yes, but not that fast! And the swelling is normal. We think. We’d never actually given anyone that augmentation before you…”

“So it does have something to do with the second different augmentation! I knew it! What,” Shadow asked, “Is the second one, exactly?”

“Your gun hand and wrist have been strengthened to help you deal with the high levels of recoil in some of the experimental weapons you’ll probably end up using,” the medic explained, “The other Spartan Fives will most likely not get to use those particular weapons unless we manage to reduce the recoil. You see, one of the Spartan Fours got his wrist broken when he was testing them out for us.”

“So that’s how the Master Chief broke his wrist,” Shadow grinned, “I was wondering how he’d managed to do that. It takes a lot of force to break a Spartan’s bones.”

“Yes,” the medic nodded, “It does. So you see, that’s some serious recoil. They can’t get anyone to test them now, not even among the Spartans. I overheard one of the engineers complaining to the Vice-Admiral the other day.”

“What were you doing down near Weapons Engineering, anyway? I thought medics weren’t allowed unless there’s an emergency.”

“We’re not. There was an emergency.”

Shadow laughed. There was always an emergency at Weapons Engineering. Either an engineer did something stupid and got hurt badly enough that he couldn’t get himself down to the medical building or one of her fellow trainees got in there unsupervised and started stuffing around with the equipment. She was smarter than that, but she knew that curiosity could overtake a soldier’s sense of danger if they weren’t careful. Therefore she tried to avoid being near the Weapons Engineering building.

The medic’s pager beeped urgently; this was an emergency Shadow hadn’t come across before, or she’d have recognised the alarm pattern. The medic swore and sprinted out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. Shadow grabbed her laptop from the table that the lamp was sitting on and switched it on. As it started up, she drummed her fingers on the touchpad. She opened the chat program, signed in, and let her fingers fly over the keys, typing a message to her best friend and rival.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: New emergency. See if you can find out what it is.

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: I’ll tell you if I see what it is. You do the same.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: Shall do. Great. Master Chief running past. Talk soon.

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: OK.

Shit. If it was that important that Ashke was needed, it had to be bad. She closed her laptop, setting it to standby in the process, and swung her legs off the edge of the bed. Walking slowly over to the door, she poked her head out of the frame and scanned the hallway for clues as to what was going on. She soon spotted what was up; someone was being stretchered into one of the few empty rooms. She couldn’t see past the medics to tell who it was. Another clue that this was a serious emergency. Alarms blared and people swore loudly. None of the voices was one Shadow recognised, at least until Ashke held up one hand and everyone fell silent.

“The last thing the patient needs is everyone shouting,” he said quietly, “I want everyone to work together. We might still be able to save his career, but only if we work as a team.”

Shit, if Ashke was acting so serious, this was bad. Shadow ran back to the bed and opened her laptop again.

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: Chief Rhydian just ran past my room. Must be bad.

Shadow typed as fast as she could, not bothering to use the touchpad to click ‘send’ but instead pressing enter.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: Emergency is near my room. Can’t see past all the medics. Master Chief is acting serious. All clues indicate worst emergency we’ve seen.

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: Shit. What did he say?

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: All the crap about working in a team and all that, and then that they may still be able to save the patient’s career.

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: Wow. Fate worse than death, to be forced out of a job you enjoy.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: Definitely. Got to go, another medic coming. No room for others in room of emergency patient. Must be to check on me. Talk soon, I promise. Tomorrow maybe.

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: OK. I’ll take your word for it. Early morning tomorrow, 0200.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: Yep. Got it. Will set my alarm now.

Shadow closed the chat program and then the laptop. Hopefully the medic would miss the little green light that signified standby mode, or perhaps mistake it for the battery light. She quickly plugged the charger in, knowing her laptop was at one hundred percent battery power so the battery light would not turn on, and slid the computer back onto the table, ensuring it was in the exact position it had been in earlier. She was almost disappointed to see the medic walk past her room and into the next room over. There was no point in letting herself be lulled into a false sense of security, so she left her laptop as it was and grabbed her art file. If she couldn’t communicate with her best friend, she could always draw something in the room.

Pulling out a piece of printer paper stolen from the mess hall printer and her 2B pencil, she settled down to draw the nameplate above the head of the bed. No cheating, she told herself, Not this time. Reference off real life, don’t take a photo and trace it.

She finished her sketch a few hours later, smiling to herself. This had to be her best so far, and she hadn’t even traced! When the scanner rotated round to her room, she’d show Jordan, but for now, she wanted to keep it a surprise. Tomorrow she would ask him to take a photo of the nameplate above his bed and send it to her via the chat, and she’d draw that as well. It was nearly lunch time, and she was hungry, having missed breakfast, but she wanted to put a few finishing touches on her sketch. Besides, one of the nurses would bring her some food in ten minutes. No point in rushing.

Shadow signed her name and Spartan number, cleaned up the edges where she’d smudged her pencil marks with her hand, and leaned back to admire her work. It was still missing something, but what? She sighed and set her drawing aside. Sooner or later she’d have no time for art, but for now she wanted to expand her skills as much as possible. She loved to draw, hence the expensive pencils and paper she usually used.

“Stuck? I’d darken the shading, if I were you, but then again I know nothing about art.”

Shadow set down her pencil, “Master Chief. I didn’t see you there.”

“No, I daresay you didn’t, or you’d have greeted me half an hour ago,” Ashke said, the laughter in his voice more than evident, “I don’t like interrupting you when you’re working, so don’t worry about it.”

“How’d the emergency go? I’ve been completely absorbed in my art for near on four hours now,” she nodded seriously, “So I have no idea.”

“Pretty well, I think we’ve managed to save the guy’s career. Can’t tell until he wakes up, though,” Ash paused before adding, “If he wakes up. The medics aren’t too confident – they’ve never done this kind of thing before – but the early signs are good. Damn, I just broke confidentiality, so don’t tell a soul.”

“I won’t,” Shadow said, then hummed a few bars of Amazing Grace, “Spartan’s honour.”

“A promise that can’t be broken,” Ashke mused, “Yet it so easily can.”

“I don’t break my word, sir.”

“I know that. Hey, I think I know what your drawing needs.”

“What?”

“You should define the lettering more. Shade it really dark or something. And now I have to train,” Ash handed Shadow’s drawing back to her and walked out the door. Shadow hadn’t even noticed him pick it up.

Taking the Master Chief’s advice, she put pencil to paper again and darkened the shading on the letters of her name and Spartan number. In doing so, she sharpened the edges of the text and straightened the H. Examining her work again, she realised that she was finally happy with what she had drawn. That was no easy feat for her, especially with her swollen right hand. Although the swelling had gone down now, so it was easier to control a pencil. Now all she had to do was spray fixative over it, and she was done. And there was the problem. She doubted the UNSC had any of the stuff. Maybe she could frame it? Later.

She checked her watch; the nurse was late again. She wanted to chat with Jordan, but the rule was no chat before lunch time or after dinner. Adding to that the fact that she had been banned from chat, she knew there was no chance, at least until really late that night or early the next morning, of using her laptop for anything, for fear of someone assuming she had been using the chat.

“Sorry I’m late, Chief, there was an issue in the kitchens. We didn’t have enough flour, so the chefs had to wait for the next shipment from Earth and they weren’t happy, so they kept us back to help with the dishes.”

Shadow smiled, “That’s okay. What’s lunch today?”

“Hearty beef stew or a meat pie, up to you, water or juice, again up to you, and for after there’s ice cream.”

“Yum! I’ll have a pie, juice and if there’s any chocolate ice cream I’ll have some of that too, please.”

“Coming right up,” the nurse said, smiling as she bustled out of the room.

Shadow sat on the bed waiting as patiently as she could for the nurse to return with lunch. She was starving now, absolutely starving. Having a choice meant waiting longer, but hey, having a choice also meant having a choice! She grabbed her inking pen from the table that her laptop was sitting on and inked her signature, ensuring that no-one could claim her work as theirs by simply erasing her signature and replacing it with their own.

The nurse returned carrying a tray of food, “Here you go. Dig in!”

“Thanks! This looks delicious,” Shadow grinned so widely she crinkled her nose, then picked up the plastic fork and dug it into the pie. Before long she was shovelling food into her mouth with relish, somehow managing to eat most of it instead of wearing it like yesterday.

She finished the pie, downed her glass of juice in one, swapped her fork for a spoon, and started stuffing chocolate ice cream into her mouth. This she ended up wearing more of than eating, but she didn’t care. At least she had gotten some of it in her mouth.

Having learned her eating habits from Ashke, who spent most of his time fighting, Shadow had terrible table manners. It was more important to eat quickly than it was to have good manners on the battlefield, and as she would be fighting in a few years’ time herself, she needed to get in plenty of practice in eating fast.
Glancing at her open door, she established that nobody was about. Grabbing her laptop, she opened the chat program again, signed in, and started chatting with Jordan.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: I’m early. XD

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: Don’t get caught.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: I won’t. Lunch was delicious today. I mean, PIE! And ice cream after! We never get ice cream!

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: Yeah, it was great. I chose the stew because there’s more of it. Plus I like stew.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: lmao! Well I like pie. XDD

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: Watch your language 8D jk jk

God, that was the world’s worst joke.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: Bad joke, Jordan.

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: Yeah, it was. Oh well. That’s life.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: Hey! That’s my line!

Red Lead V to Blue Lead V: Tough! XD Ah, damn. I have to go. Chief Rhydian’s headed this way.

Blue Lead V to Red Lead V: OHNOEZ! XDDDDD All right then, talk to you at the arranged time.

Laughing at herself, Shadow switched off her laptop and slid it back in position. She and Jordan enjoyed being stupid with the chat program, even if it meant they had to be extra-alert while they were using it. There was no way they would let something as trivial as being banned from it stop them communicating.

Shadow suspected that the Master Chief knew she used the chat program, even though she was banned, but if he did, he wasn’t saying anything about it. She sensed a touch of favouritism, perhaps because she was so like Shaide, but didn’t care. She’d show him she didn’t need to be his favourite to succeed.

One of the medics walked past her open door, having an animated discussion with someone on the other end of his COM. About what, she couldn’t tell. Even with her heightened senses, she could not hear the medic. So he was a quiet talker. So what? So many people Shadow knew – including herself – were not loud people. That wasn’t to say she was shy, she just didn’t need to shout to get her point across. The other Spartan trainees listened to her, whatever she said.

Pulling out her art file again, Shadow settled down to draw the table her laptop sat on, this time on her special art paper and using one of her expensive 8B pencils. It was the job of the artist to see the magic in the mundane, and what more mundane thing than a table and a computer? She was best at nature drawings, but nature in itself was a magical thing. Plus, in this weather, nothing sat still long enough. She wanted to make her table and laptop beautiful things instead of the boring old plain mundane things they were. She was bored of cheating in her art, and anyway, it was more satisfying if she drew from life instead of tracing photos. Then she could say it was her work and didn’t have to say she’d referenced from a photo. And perhaps she could convince the Master Chief to lend her a copy of the photo he was always talking about, so she could try to draw a Spartan. She had drawn Marines and her fellow trainees, but never fully qualified Spartans. They couldn’t be that difficult.