“They’re just missing in action, yeah, I got the byline too.” It was one of ONI’s and the UNSC’s more outrageous decisions as far as the II’s were concerned. Sure, it might help build up morale amongst the troops but Spartans absolutely could die and had died throughout the course of the war. So to pretend like their sacrifice never happened was…upsetting to say the least.
But then, Kurt had hundreds of dead Spartan’s souls weighing his own soul down. Two entire classes decimated in two campaigns, all that potential wasted and spent and at the end of the day, he had no idea if it had been worth it or not. Tactically, perhaps it made sense but there was a part of him that knew he’d failed each and every one of the Spartans he’d trained when they fell in the line of duty.
“I’m just glad to see you’re still alive, Matt. Even if the circumstances aren’t ideal, it’s good to see a familiar face after so long.” Kurt admitted with a genuine smile and reached out to clasp Maine on the shoulder. Few in Project Freelancer would have dared take such liberties with the man. In truth, few Spartan-II’s would have either because they’d been trained to be a reserved sort of bunch but Kurt had always been peculiar in that way. The emotional programming meant to boil and distill their personalities in focused, unflappable killing machines had never quite stuck with the other Spartan.
Even now, more than two decades later after being exposed to the worst of ONI’s black politics, Kurt still cared about his fellow Spartans. Perhaps too much because that deep sense of caring had driven him to do the unthinkable.
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But then, Kurt had hundreds of dead Spartan’s souls weighing his own soul down. Two entire classes decimated in two campaigns, all that potential wasted and spent and at the end of the day, he had no idea if it had been worth it or not. Tactically, perhaps it made sense but there was a part of him that knew he’d failed each and every one of the Spartans he’d trained when they fell in the line of duty.
“I’m just glad to see you’re still alive, Matt. Even if the circumstances aren’t ideal, it’s good to see a familiar face after so long.” Kurt admitted with a genuine smile and reached out to clasp Maine on the shoulder. Few in Project Freelancer would have dared take such liberties with the man. In truth, few Spartan-II’s would have either because they’d been trained to be a reserved sort of bunch but Kurt had always been peculiar in that way. The emotional programming meant to boil and distill their personalities in focused, unflappable killing machines had never quite stuck with the other Spartan.
Even now, more than two decades later after being exposed to the worst of ONI’s black politics, Kurt still cared about his fellow Spartans. Perhaps too much because that deep sense of caring had driven him to do the unthinkable.