janitorscloset | [meme] RvB & Halo AU Meme

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[meme] RvB & Halo AU Meme

Ever wonder what your Freelancer would do if they were able to fight in the war, or how the Spartans would behave if they were recruited as Freelancers? Here's your chance to find out!

How to play:

Post a top-level with your RvB or Halo character

List preferences and ideas, or write a starter

Tag around! It doesn't have to be strictly characters from the other setting, either. Put two Freelancers in the ODST, or put Master Chief and Cortana in Project Freelancer. Let your imagination be your guide!

Have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Guess he wants to watch me get prodded," Matt grumbles. Of course it's an empty complaint because it's supposed to be an empty complaint. Maybe he wasn't as good at it as Kurt had ever been, but playful ribbing was more in his wheelhouse now than he had been before. Freelancer had changed him, that much was obvious. To the point that he was happy to be a bit freer with information.

Thing was he knew this was an ONI black hole you didn't fall back out of. Freelancer had some candidates released, but training Spartans? He doubted he would get out of that so long as there was a demand. And he didn't care.

"Hoping I get to keep my voice," Matt admits. The more he spoke today the worse it sounded, leaving it now harsh but also quiet. Not so quiet that a Spartan couldn't hear of course, but still quiet.

“Nah if I wanted that, I’d insist on your doing a full work-up and physical rather than them trying to save the voice you’re supposed to be saving by not talking so much.” Kurt said archly with an amused look over his shoulder.

He hadn’t missed the fact that Matt seemed...different from the teenage Spartan candidate he remembered. He seemed less uptight, less serious and it was a heartening change because that would make the transition of him working with children and potential Spartan candidates easier.

Not that he’d been afraid of the man being too harsh on them that he might actually cripple their potential. But Kurt knew from first-hand experience that you needed a certain sense of humor to deal with rambunctious children no matter who they were. Spartan or civilian, they were still prone to getting into shenanigans and create mischief.

“How are we doing on getting Gamma prepared and ready to do for tonight, Tom?” Kurt asked and he had to use an ID card and a security code just to get through the next set of doors.

“Good, sir, we’re doing PT drills now and transferring them to Tarawa.” Tom supplied smoothly. “We’ll be able to do more physical rehab once we get back to Onyx and have them back to regular gravity.”

The Beta Spartan didn’t realize Matt hadn’t been fully debriefed yet and thus had no idea where they were…actually going.

In silence Matt considers all the information flying out around him. Better not to seem ignorant before he is read in. The other Spartans would handle him better if he seemed to know. Which would mean he had to deal with getting briefed soon. Which couldn't happen until Kurt could officially read him in. It was annoying but at least his throats gave him a reason to be silent.

Still he listened quietly as he followed, staying half a step behind Kurt so he could be guided to where they were going. Gravity had been so hard to adjust to when they came out of augmentation but he thought he might enjoy helping there. Even after PT in space the young Gammas would be learning more about their bodies. Their strength and speed. If nothing else he would be a better sparring partner than their normal trainers. More repayment to possible damage. It would be good for them and mean they were less likely to hurt each other as well.

And when he thought of it he could even see a use for himself with a new generation. They were being trained against Covenant threats. Maine actually had real life combat experience on that front, and unlike normal personnel, he was a good stand in for the larger species like the Elites. Might help to train them young in how to deal with bigger, faster, stronger opponents. None of his Spartan training had prepared him for that one unexpected fistfight with an Elite.

Matt smiles at his thoughts. Maybe he might. It fight this war as intended, but he was going to fight it. And probably fight off any promotion Kurt offered.

Kurt was well aware of the fact that Matt hadn’t been fully read in but he obviously trusted that his brother could keep up and didn’t need his hand held during briefings.

Matt would learn a lot during the walk through the more secure parts of the station. Like the fact that there were an unbelievable 330 of them. But then, considering how high Tom’s own Spartan tag of B292 happened to be, maybe it wasn’t so surprising after all. What was shocking was the fact that they hadn’t experienced one loss either to augmentation rejection or any of the myriad of deadly side effects that had killed so many Spartan-II’s.

He learned they were generally divided into five-men fireteams and that they seemed to be named after a variety of bladed weaponry of Earth origin.
“They still have another additional year of training before they will receive their final dispensation orders.” Kurt explained to Matt, finally looping him back into the conversation. “They will have to go through a more extensive rehabilitation and re-acclimation once we’re back on Onyx. We actually started hormone portion of the augmentation process months ago to induce a sort of artificial puberty so that the trauma to their bodies is lessened somewhat.”

Another security door later and they were inside a huge trauma ward outfitted with hundreds of empty berths, no doubt the home of the absent Gamma Company. Suddenly, it brought home the sheer enormity of this operation and the lengths they must have to go to ensure hundreds of teenage Spartan candidates were hidden away from the rest of the Hopeful’s occupants and crew.

“Of course, now they will have to re-learn how to move again but it’s preferable to shocking their system too much at once. Training will intensify from there with more realistic battlefield conditioning and they will finally be outfitted with their armor and how to effectively use it on the battlefield. Once we’re under way I’ll make sure you get a data packet on the tech they will be using.” The brunette turned then to Lucy. “Would you mind fetching Dr. Sinclair for me so that he can check out Matt’s injuries?”

The female Spartan smiled brightly and nodded her head to indicate she understood and left to carry out her orders only to return a few minutes later with a tired looking doctor with a shock of bright red hair. The look he offered Kurt was one of curiosity overlaid with wariness and perhaps some impatience.

“So, Commander, what’s so important?”

“A new patient for you, Doctor. More specialized than what your colleagues are used to dealing with, I’m afraid.” He let the doctor make his own conclusions from that and indicated Matt. “Multiple GSW to the throat, larynx seems to be mostly intact but partially damaged. I would appreciate it if you could do what you can for him.”

The doctor frowns at Matt, clearly considering something. Perhaps, Matt thought, the man thought the injuries familiar. As he watches he sees the flash of recognition. Clearly the man had heard of his case.

"You... aren't with..." the doctor starts to say, frowning.

"Reassigned. Classified," Matt grunts. And Sinclair almost, but doesn't really, smile.

"When is it not. Come on then."

He guides them back to the trauma ward and sits Maine down on a bed. It doesn't take too long for the man to work Maine over. There are little displeased noises and a few head shakes but at last he pulls away to turn to Kurt and give the prognosis. Through it all Matt sits silently. His throats should recover, he hears. After all, they were designed to survive. He even listens to the man talk about how improbable it was and how armor had saved him, no duh. What gets him down is hearing it will be a while before he can do lengthy conversations without strain and that his voice might always growl out.

"He should be good for solid foods in a week though."

Matt scoffs. Damn good chance he would lose some of his fighting trim on a liquid diet.

Kurt’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly when the doctor started to ask things he really shouldn’t be inquiring about. Curiosity was not a trait he particular wanted to see in the doctors who were treating his Spartans and he made a mental note to ensure he was vetted more closely by ONI.

He was one of the best doctors on the station which was why he’d been chosen for this detail but if the man was going to go prying into things best left unexplored then he might prove to be more of a liability than an asset and he couldn’t risk that sort of exposure despite his rather cavalier way of recruiting Matt into the program.

But then, Matt was Spartan, he could be trusted implicitly to keep their secrets.

Thankfully, Matt managed to cut Sinclair off before the doctor could overstep any bounds. Kurt did a pretty admirable job of blending into the background while the red-haired doctor did his exam of Matt and he listened with an impassive look on his face as the good doctor made his prognosis. The mention of armor certainly intrigued him but he shelved that for now, more intent on assuring his brother would have the best care he could receive.

It was a relief to hear that he wasn’t looking at permanent damage to his vocal cords and throat. The fact that the man had taken an entire clip to the throat and kept going just proved he truly was Spartan no matter what had been stamped on his personnel record.

“Thank you, doctor.” The dismissal was unmistakable in the commander’s voice in spite of the pleasant tone of voice and the smile he offered the man. “I appreciate you taking the time to check him out; we can handle it from here.”

Sinclair seemed to catch the brunette’s drift thankfully and with a small, puzzled frown and one last suspicious look spared to the four of them, he finally turned away visibly exasperated and made his way back through the door he’d come in.

“Well, I guess you won’t be doing your best Mendez impression for a while, Matt. But I’m sure you’ll find a way to communicate with our new Spartans all the same. Would you like to accompany Tom and Lucy on an inspection of them while I take care of some last minute details here?”

If it had been the two of them, he probably would have teased the other man about having an excuse to eat as much chocolate pudding as he wanted but he didn’t want to scandalize his attachés by being too familiar with the man in front of them. Eventually it would probably all come out, especially when Mendez clapped eyes on Matt but for now, he saw no reason to confirm any suspicions they might have about his past the man.

None of this will be easy. Thing is, he didn't sign up (so to speak) for easy. Nothing he'd lived through was easy. A lot of it was just different kinds of hard. And he could live with different kinds of hard. For now he was happy to just be free of the prodding. As he stands and stretches a little he listens to Kurt. Dismissed already? Made sense. They needed to divide and conquer on this. He had to be seen as different from Kurt, or at least independent from him.

He agrees with a small nod of his head. Better to be seen with the superiors of these new Spartans as soon as possible. To be seen as an authority figure would keep them from questioning too much. Thus he looks to Tom and Lucy and gestures for them to lead. No reason he should when he'd just get lost.

"Show me?" he asks. He'll need their guidance. In fact, he is going to rely on them until he learns his way with a lot of things.

Kurt would love nothing more than to spend more time with Matt but he now had the unenviable job of trying to explain to his superiors why he’d felt the need to shanghai him into their program and out from underneath the nose of some other black bag project.

He knew there would be hell to pay for it and he didn’t necessarily want Matt around to see that. “Contact me when we’re ready to start transferring Gamma onto the ship.”

“Will do, Commander. Sir? If you’ll follow us?” Tom said politely and he and Lucy fell into step together and lead Matt down two levels to the hanger bay which was serving as an impromptu exercise area. With three hundred plus Spartans, there just wasn’t any other space big enough to hold them. Booted feet pounded on the metal plates as the newly augmented Spartans jogged around the bay.

It was obvious they were still learning how to adjust to the additional muscle mass and their newly augmented bodies because many of them were struggling to maintain the pace and were occasionally stumbling over their own feet. Coordination would come in time of course. And standing there down in the center of the landing bay barking orders was an all too familiar figure.

Chief Mendez was older, grayer but no less an impressive sight as he controlled the gathered Spartans and the DI’s running abreast of them with flawless ease and confidence. “One more lap and you can rest. Come on, keep up the pace, you’re supposed to be Spartans now.”

Mendez? Matt freezes when he hears the man's voice, just... stands there, processing. It makes sense, of course it does, but that was one man he expected to see again even less than Kurt. Chief Mendez had no reason to ever show up on Matt's radar again, whereas if he believed in the after life or anything, he might be fated to end up seeing Kurt. But the man there, amid the mass of soldiers, of Spartans, makes Matt feel so much less sure of himself.

Two people and only two people had been present when Matt had been told he was going to be dismissed. Only two people had seen him put a serious dent in a wall. Only two people saw him that out of control, and there was no chance he was going to see the other. Seeing this one, though, it makes Matt almost... nervous? No. That wasn't in his wheelhouse. But he was more self-conscious than he had been.

If he was lucky Mendez might not recognize him. As it was he tried to keep his cool. He was going to have to work with this man.

"Alive," Matt observes to Tom and Lucy, his voice a rough whisper, like he can't believe his own words. He'd thought Mendez was ancient back when he was a kid.

At first, Mendez didn’t notice them because his attention was centered more on Gamma company as they made their final circuit around the landing bay. Judging by the sweat hanging off the young Spartans’ bodies, they’d been at this for a while. He’d done much the same to Kurt and Matt after their augmentation procedures.

He’d never had patience for lay abouts and always demanded a hundred and ten percent of his recruits. There was a reason even to this day that Franklin Mendez was viewed with awe and fear by some of the fiercest warriors the human race had ever produced. Even the Master Chief himself would have jumped to attention if he’d been there and seen their old trainer still as hale and hearty as ever and ready to bark out orders.

“Chief Mendez? Heh, I’m pretty sure he’s too stubborn to die.” Tom said quietly aside to Matt as though he too were afraid his words might carry to the man’s bat-like ears. “The Commander says they’ve offered him a full retirement package multiple times but he just keeps turning them down. Said he even served on the front before he came to train Spartans with the Commander on Onyx.”

It was doubtful Mendez heard them but the man had always possessed an almost preternatural awareness about him and as though his ears were burning, the man’s dark eyes darted over to the trio. An unreadable expression flickered too swiftly across the man’s face to be read but he gestured for them to approach and when they did, he was looking directly at Matt. “Just in time you two. Why don’t you cool ‘em down, wash ‘em, feed ‘em and put the babies to bed for me.”

Those dark eyes were scanning Matt’s face and taking in the sight of him with a curious sort of intensity. Tom and Lucy seemed to pick up on that curious intensity but both knew Mendez well enough to recognize the dismissal in the man’s voice.

“Yes, sir. We’ll catch up with you later, Greene. Looking forward to working with you.” Tom put in hastily as he and Lucy offered up crisp salutes to Mendez. The two Beta Spartans were practically radiating curiosity as they exchanged a wordless look before turning to jog after Gamma, thus leaving the two of them alone.

“Greene, huh?” The old man said with a shrewd look in his eyes.

He's actually been left behind in Mendez's hands. Somehow he is worried that he will have to do laps.

"Better than Ambrose," he growls out. "Besides, followed Green Leader since day one. You remember."

Back in the day they had been certain Mendez remembered literally everything. Given the look Matt wondered if it might just be true. That appraisal spoke of memory, and that was after the man had apparently had a few hundred more recruits he had dealt with since. If Gamma's size was an indication of previous units, perhaps over a thousand other recruits. But still the man remembered him. Good to know.

In a way the man was the nearest thing Matt had experienced to a father. Not that either Halsey or Mendez had been seen as parents, or would have been good ones. Still, they were the first and most important authority figures in the life of Matt, who had started as one of the smaller recruits, though a determined one. Just seeing the man made him feel young again. And a bit ashamed of the last time he had seen the man.

"Sorry about the dent," he grumbled despite the pain in his voice. He hadn't been happy to. E sent away from the program. "Was stupid."

And now... how was he supposed to handle this man?

Mendez’s eyes were still as sharp and aquiline as ever and his face was damned near inscrutable. Matt could probably count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen the man smile, much less laugh in all the years he’d been training them.

It made him all the more intimidating and scary no matter if you were a six year old kid or a forty year old Spartan who topped him in over a foot of height.

Of course, the man had to go and utterly ruin that pre-conceived image of the self-same hardass Matt had built him up to be in his head by guffawing. “Ha! Blame Ackerson and his damned sense of the dramatic. Kurt seems to like it okay so I guess; all things considered it ain’t too bad a name for an incognito Spartan.” He smiled in a decidedly draconian way and yet his face didn’t crack or break contrary to all of the whispered rumors the young Spartan recruits had exchanged surreptitiously among themselves.

“You always were dogging Kurt’s footsteps, I dunno where the hell he dug you up from, Matt, but it’s good to see you all the same, son.” That was perhaps more sentiment than Matt had ever seen the old man show.

He waved the younger man’s apology off with something that might have been understanding in his eyes. “No need to apologize, you were upset with good reason. I probably would have done worse in your shoes. Was half afraid you’d get pulled off into one of ONI’s black bags and would never see the light of day again.” That seemed to be their MO when it came to Spartan washouts who could still serve in some capacity or the other.

SPARTANS don't gawk. They aren't supposed to. They are ideal soldiers and mostly stoic to a soldier. Except Kurt and Sam and maybe some of the new ones. That is what Matt always told himself. Thing is, he's gawking now, and without a helmet to hide it. Just openly staring until he casts his eyes about. Had anyone else seen Mendez almost laugh? There was no way that happened, or that the man was talking to him in such a familiar manner. It wasn't... possible. Nor was the smile. A smiling Mendez would be like... like the Conselor actually emoting, or the Director smiling. Not possible things.

Today is just full of the impossible he supposes.

"Served battle units some. Then bags. Black."

Seemed like he was made for it. A series of them. He was a whole set of matched black ops luggage. Still, it felt oddly nice to see his old instructor. To the point where he reaches up to indicate his throat. The clearly new scarring.

"Latest bag. Til Kurt."

Perhaps too much to admit, but this was one of the people he had always been trying to prove himself to. That he was good enough. That he could serve. This man had helped make that concept an engrained part of Matt. Almost made him want to break opsec. Not that he would. Kurt might get some out of Ackerson if he was read in to Freelancer, which Matt doubted. If Kurt needed support Ackerson could have scooped Matt for it years ago. As it was Matt clearly had fallen under some other ONI appointment.

Poor Matt had only seen Mendez at his ‘worst’ as the man who was supposed to train them to survive. That didn’t afford him the luxury of kindness or mercy no matter how young his charges had been so the man had certainly garnered a reputation as a hard ass at best and a relentless monster who pushed them beyond their limits at worst. But now, Matt was here not as his pupil but as a fellow soldier.

Moreso than that, he knew just how few of his original students were left. Even ones who could not serve in full capacity like Matt were still a precious commodity. So he wasn’t very surprised to hear Matt succinctly sum up his service record over the last two decades as one being shuffled from one black project to the next.

“Can’t say I’m too surprised to hear that, seems to be par for course these days for all ex-Spartans not officially recognized on the rosters. I’d love to hear what kind of horse trading Kurt had to do to get you here but considering who we’re talking about, maybe I’m better off not knowing.” Mendez was frowning now and it was an all too familiar expression. “I’m getting too damned old for all these dog and pony show politics.”

He didn’t like the waters Kurt was swimming in these days or the sharks who kept him company but Mendez kept that to himself.

What would Mendez think about Matt literally falling into Kurt's lap on this one? Good luck or bad? Either way Matt huffed in agreement. Things were complex and messed up these days. But he was surprised to hear he wasn't the only Spartan to receive this treatment. Maybe it would have been better if he was. Would have meant more of his brothers and sisters were in a place to serve. Instead they were discards. Maybe he should t be surprised Freelancer found him after all.

For the sake of the conversation he shrugs. Not like he has an answer. Politics isn't his game at all.

"Told we move out tonight. Tired. Have some place I can rest?"

If Tom and Lucy were to be too busy to show him around and Kurt occupied getting strings pulled, he would rather stay out of the way and let his voice rest. It was getting hard to talk at all at this point. People could probably stand to be without him for a few hours.

Like Mendez had told John all those years ago, the Spartan candidates who had been crippled by the augmentation procedures still had a place in this war. Their bodies might be broken, but minds were still sharp. And for those like Matt or Serin who could still serve in some capacity, they at least got to have a taste of battle. Unlike those like Musa or Fhajad who weren’t even allowed the luxury of that.

“Of course, we still have hours yet to go. It’ll take a while to get Gamma squared away. Come on, Tom and Lucy got things well in hand, and I need to talk to Kurt anyway.” Mendez indicated for Matt to follow him and set off back the way Matt had come. He found an empty recovery room and assured Matt that someone would come wake him when they were approaching the time to leave before the gruff old drill instructor took his leave to go accost Kurt about some answers pertaining to their sudden new acquisition.

From there, it was much like any other military deployment. A lot of hurry up and waiting to be found but eventually, they were on their way towards this mysterious Onyx. Gamma had been placed into cryo pods both to help acclimate them further to the unpleasantness of cryogenic stasis but also to keep them out of mischief and out from under foot. Matt found his time well spent being caught up on the particulars of the new military program he’d been shanghaied into.

Parangosky had gotten wind of Kurt’s shenanigans in part thanks to the Director irritably bitching his way up the chain of command about the loss of one of his Freelancers and like Kurt had feared, there had been hell to pay. He probably used up the luck of ten life times tap-dancing his way through that debacle but the fact that Matt had already seen behind the curtain and knew what was afoot ultimately cemented the deal and the Freelancer known as Maine officially went MIA when the pelican that was supposed to transport him back to his berth went missing.

Whether Leonard Church believed that lie was irrelevant because in the end ONI trumped all. And by the time they left slipspace, the entire affair had been quietly swept under the rug.

Along with Kurt and the rest of the senior training elements, they departed the ship early so that final preparations could be made for Gamma’s dispensation before 300+ boots hit the ground. Onyx was a beautiful, pristine world with lush forests as far as the eye could see surrounding their neat as a pin training base and outpost.

“Welcome to Onyx.” Kurt said aside to Matt once they stepped off the ramp and finally hit solid dirt for the first time in three weeks.

Air. That is what really stops Matt as he steps foot on Onyx. All the years of service, all that time on the front or on ships, he hasn't breathed air this good since he was finished with his time as a Spartan. The smell of ground, of air, of plants, with no edge of explosives and gunpowder. This is...

"Nice," he says, because his throats has forced him to being that more taciturn man he once was. Sure it was healing, but talking too long could still hurt, and once the Spartans come out of veto, he would need to talk. But for Kurt... he can spare more words.

"Beautiful," he says. Everything from the trees to the air to the precision of the base. It feels good. Better than a ship. "I am going to like it here. Feels like a fresh start."

Sort of is. This is his first day on his new home. With his new rank and his new name officially in effect starting today. They even topped it off with the fact that he had a new uniform waiting for him in whatever bunk space would be his. He didn't think he would have a space of his own of course. Never had before. Even on the MoI he had bunked with Utah and then Wash.

"So... home?"

After twenty years on the planet, Kurt had become used to the pristine beauty of the planet. Of course, these days, he didn’t see the beauty but rather the ways he could use it and its terrain as a proving ground for his Spartans. Which landmarks would present a challenge, how to harness nature to present the most realistic obstacles they might face on the battlefield.

But Matt’s fresh take on the planet and the subtle peacefulness that seemed to slowly steal through him as he regarded Onyx with fresh eyes reminded Kurt of what he’d come to take for granted about the world.

“It really is.” He agreed with a fond looking smile and clapped Matt on the shoulder. Kurt was one of the few people tall enough to do that comfortably around here and standing there together, the two of them certainly looked like what they were even if they weren’t clad in the distinctive Spartan armor. But the matching scars that could be seen on their hands and peeking out from their uniform collars, the unusual heights and builds marked them for what they were. Kurt had never gone out of his way to confirm or deny his past as a II and his men respected him too much for the most part to pry but the easy familiarity that radiated between him and Matt definitely spoke of a shared past and acquaintanceship.

“I guess so, as close as any of are going to get. Come on, I’ll show you around.” Normally, it would be unheard of for the camp commander to take time out of his busy day to show a new DI around but Kurt was too excited to show Matt what they’d worked so hard to build and he trusted that Mendez along with Tom and Lucy could handle the final preparations for delivering Gamma safely home.

Thing about being with another Spartan? This was a man who had shared what equated to a childhood with him. Everyone else Matt had interacted with in recent years--except maybe Florida--was either exceedingly older than him or quite a bit younger. It made him feel strangely old. Kurt, though? He made Matt feel almost young. Definitely made him feel like there was a new beginning to be had here. Damn if that smile wasn't contagious.

"Mind if we start with my bunk?" Matt suggests. He had spent enough time switching between pairs of the Freelancer fatigues that had been recovered from his hospital room. Getting out of the gray and black and into proper military colors would be nice. Even Marine standard issue would be better, seeing as Spartans technically fell under that ops heading.

"And somewhere I can steal a piece of fruit."

'Fresh' produce hadn't been too common for the project. Not as common as it should have been. He could damn well eat a raw potato right now if it came to it.

That was it exactly. There were certain things, certain bonds that were forged during boot camp and the shared life experience of going through it with another Spartan candidate that was totally unique. Mendez had been there but had been on the other side of the scenario and though they had managed to forge a friendship over the years, it just wasn’t the same.

Even Tom and Lucy who could understand what it meant to be Spartan couldn’t fill that void inside of Kurt because at the end of the day, there were lines he could not cross. He’d already allowed himself to become too emotionally invested in his protégés and he knew it. But with Matt, it was different because this was his brother. And he’d so desperately missed him and the rest of his brothers and sisters.

And he suspected Matt understood that loneliness all too keenly as well.

“Of course, come on. DI’s are bunked down near the barracks of course so they can keep an eye on things. We’ve got enough space no one has to double up so you’ll have your privacy.” Kurt lead him over to the prefab cluster of buildings that had been erected around what was unmistakably a parade ground. “My quarters are over there. Office is up front, private quarters are in the rear. We’ll get you kitted out with a radio along with your dress which should hopefully all be waiting for you in your bunk. Mess hall is over there.” He pointed out the various buildings as they walked.

When Matt asked him about fresh fruit, he chuckled softly. “Ah, spoken like someone who has been on ship board food for too long. We’ve had some luck with both the local flora but also in getting some Terran food to grow here though we have to be careful to keep it in check so it doesn’t accidentally become an invasive species to the local fauna and flora.”

"Could help," Matt offers at the news of horticulture. He had spent his free time studying a lot of things. The primary had been civil engineering, but he'd also looked, to a limited degree, at plants. If the war ever ended he always thought he might get to do something else. Part of him hoped to help rebuild. Now it might have other uses.

His mind is still trying to run over the whole 'privacy' thing. "Never had my own space before."

What would he do with it? Probably nothing. Any free time would be spent with Kurt or reading. And there likely wouldn't be too much free time. But with it gestures to he steers them to the quarters. He wants to change into clothes meant to fit him. And without sleeves. He hated them, especially as the trip here had allowed him to start back on solid goods. Start rebuilding his weight. His muscle. The Freelancer uniform never really accounted for Spartan muscle.

"Imagine your schedule won't let you find much free time for me. But I could stand some sparring with someone I don't have to train up too."

“It’s the purview of the KP staff. I know it can get a little monotonous so I wanted to make sure they had something a little more challenging to keep them occupied.” A happy, fulfilled solider was a solider who was willing to stay on an assignment for the long term and it was in all their best interests to keep staff turn-over as minimal as possible.

But moreso than that, it was just classic Kurt to a T. He’d always shown a very un-Spartan like interest in those around him even those who were not Spartans. Unsurprising then that it would transfer to him being a more understanding commanding officer and from what Matt had seen so far, it paid off in spades. Tom and Lucy looked at the man with a devotion that far surprised that a subordinate’s loyalty to their superior officer. Even Mendez didn’t seem immune to that ineffable charisma and approachability.

“I thought you might appreciate not having to deal with people prying into your past or trying to explain the augmentation scars. I’ve never outright come out and admitted I was a II though I suspect it’s more of an open secret around camp by now but it’s your secret to keep or reveal as you will, Matt.” They reached a door with a temporary tag with the name GREENE printed on it along with Matt’s official rank.

“I will find a way of making time. You and I have a lot lost time to make up for and a lot to catch up on. During working hours of course we will have to maintain the chain of command but after hours, we can just be Kurt and Matt. And I would be delighted to spar with you. I’ve been trying to keep up my fighting trim but it’s definitely been a challenge at times.”

"They'll know in short order," Matt counters. But space of his own is a nice idea. He will have to establish that an open door policy does not mean coming to nag him about his past. But Spartans were smart and they would know. Maybe they only suspected Kurt until now but Matt intended a more hands on approach with his own students. Seeing him more regularly, his more visible scars, his ability to do the one thing the other DIs couldn't do in keeping up with everything he asked of the Spartans, they would know. And given his age, they would understand what that meant.

Greene. The name had been played by the higher ups and Matt knew very few people were happy with it. Luckily the old Project wasn't his concern. Being there to support Kurt, not as his right and left hands because that was for his Bravos and Mendez, but to be his support, true person who would never judge or laud but who would be happy to bring him back to earth, Matt was okay with that.

"One moment," Matt says, excusing himself into the room. Once he is in he quickly hanged into his new uniform, smirking over the name tag. That was never going to stop being amusing. Once it was on he bundled up the Freelancer clothes and came out to Kurt.

"Should destroy these. Minimize future questions."

That done he nods to his superior to continue the tour. While Alison himself with thoughts of sparing with a Spartan. One that might be out of practice. Not that Matt had lived up to expectations in sparring in recent years either. The Director had not encouraged it.

“Probably but a trick I’ve picked up from all these ridiculous ONI cloak and dagger tricks is people can suspect something until the cows come home but so long as you don’t admit it then really, all they have is supposition to go on. And few people are going to be ballsy enough to ask a Spartan-II directly to their face if they are one.”

Kurt pointed out philosophically but there was a note of first hand personal experience there. “Of course, I like to think I’ve done a good enough job vetting my people that your fellow DI’s are smart enough to keep any rumor mongering to themselves. As for Gamma, you know how gossipy boots can be but I suspect you’ll be a larger than life figure for them. The scary new Spartan DI who can kick their asses from here till sundown if needs be.”

Yes, Matt would be a powerful figure for Gamma because he was one of the few who would be able to keep up with them in all things. So far, they’d only had Tom and Lucy to contend with and they were the most effective trainers he had because of it. Now, they would have this new unknown vector to contend with and Kurt was interested to see how it would play out.

Kurt waited patiently while Matt changed into his new uniform and the moment his brother stepped out, he looked him over with a pleased smile on his face.

“You look good.” His smile sort of dimmed however when Matt indicated his bundled up clothing and the final ties he had to his old assignment.

“Good idea, I’ll show you where to dispose of it.” He did just that and once the last incriminating evidence of Project Freelancer was gone, he continued the tour by showing Matt the barracks that Gamma would soon be occupying and then took him to the impressive obstacle course halfway hidden by the trees.

“Mendez and I worked together on this but if you have any further suggestions or ideas for additions, I’d love to hear it.”

Edited 2017-08-28 03:35 (UTC)

Matt had to admit, as he looked over the obstacle course, that is looked good. He missed things as simple as that. Not that what he had on the MoI was bad either. There were parts of the training regime from there he wanted to import. The fact of the matter was that there were a few things the Director did well. The sparring room had been one. The adaptable terrain was good. And clearly the land here didn't do much for city combat. Possible that was set up elsewhere.

"Do you have separate for pre and post augmentation? Got to make them think and move differently."

As he walks slowly along the course he considers the potential. Other thjngs he wants to do.

"I want mock ups up Covvie swords. Run into a few. No armor we have will hold up. Got to teach them to evade it. Disarm. Not easy. Sangheili are strong. Probably take Sam in a no holds barred. They need to learn that. But want to start sparring first. Before they have a chance to hurt themselves or each other. Know you've made do so far, but no other DI but Tom or Lucy can do direct training for them now. Got to correct that."

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