janitorscloset | [meme] RvB & Halo AU Meme

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."

Kurt was silent while Matt studied the obstacle course and visibly started to ponder what all he would change or adapt. He knew they’d done a decent enough job of it because they had some of the best DI’s in the UNSC but Matt had genuine field experience and that in itself was worth its weight in gold.

“We’ll start them back up on this to help them relearn how to move but honestly, they’ve advanced past the obstacle course. From here on out we’ll be working on them with more realistic combat simulations and how to survive out in the field while cut off from supply and help.” He said while indicating the forests beyond the edge of the compound. “The next year will be about refining their skill sets. They have the basic foundation down solid, now we just need to turn them into Spartans.”

When Matt expressed and interest in doing weapons drills with Covenant weaponry, the brunette smiled thinly. “We have some in our armory as well as just about every other Covie weapon the UNSC can get their hands on. Speaking of, let’s go there now. I want to show you our SPI armor and start to get you fitted for a set.”

There had been a briefing on the armor with the rest of the info dump Matt had gotten but Kurt wanted him to see it in action for himself.

"Changeable elements," Matt decides before turning away from the obstacle course. 'It needs chnangable elements. Little ways that mean they can't get too used to it. We did not benefit from it being stagnant. Latest bag taught that. Same thing leads to complacency. Not good for a Spartan. Let new kids get used to it then change it. Leads to caution and more need to support teammates. Course gotta let them run without seeing others so they don't see the change."

But Kurt clearly means for them to move on and Matt won't argue. He wants to see this armor. More than anything else he had focused on the capabilities of the armor. His time in Freelancer had taught him about focusing on the abilities of the armor he lived his life in. The stuff for these Spartans was... disappointing. Freelancer had better, but less people to equip. This stuff made the Spartans seem... almost disposable. It made him sick.

Not that he was going to criticize Kurt before he knew what the other man thought.

"Do you have urban combat training grounds? Lot of what I saw was either forested areas like this before a planet got glassed, or a city. Nothing but ruins and rubble can really prep you for the chaos."

Kurt whistled quietly when Matt suggested finding a way of creating some changeable elements to the obstacle course. The suggestion made a lot of sense but it would also require one hell of a feat of engineering as well. “I’ll bring it up with Mendez, see what he thinks can be done. He’s probably going to be tetchy if we tear up half the obstacle course he spent a good three months planning up. That’s assuming it’s possible to do. Maybe I can do some horse trading with someone in the engineering and R&D branch.”

He knew his personal limitations but that sort of engineering was beyond him and he didn’t know if anyone on his current roster would be up for the challenge.

Kurt led him across the obstacle course, towards the building he’d indicated as his own personal domain. Inside, Matt would discover a neat as a pin office though there were some small personal touches like a vase decorated in an ancient Greco-Roman design but perhaps the most remarkable thing about the office was the multitude of framed clippings on the wall showing photos of various Spartan-II’s and their accolades. The pride in which they were displayed was unmistakable and had taken Kurt a fair amount of time and painstaking hours spend digging up all information he could about his brothers and sisters.

Once ONI had released the knowledge of the II’s to the world, he’d been desperate for news about them. It was a bittersweet tribute because his Spartan-III’s would never grace the walls of this office. They were strictly relegated to the shadows like one of ONI’s dark secrets. The public could not handle the idea of the UNSC training up child soldiers just to use them as little more than over-glorified cannon-fodder. The II’s were adults, more palpable and people didn’t ask too many questions about their origins.

It wasn’t fair and he knew it just as he knew how unfair it was that his students should be treated as little more than disposable soldiers whose lives could be spent so easily. That was why he was willing to go to such illegal lengths to ensure Gamma would not be so easily destroyed.

Behind a locked door, Matt would find himself in a smaller room but one packed to the ceiling with all manner of weaponry, both UNSC and Covenant in origin.

“We do about one hundred clicks from the base. ONI doesn’t want there to be too many visible footprints on the planet just in case someone happens to stumble upon us. We typically tie it in with wilderness survival training and the boots travel by foot to reach it within an allotted timeframe. The DI’s come up with obstacles for them to face along the way. You remember that training exercise we did back on Reach with the maps? Where they dropped us off in the middle of nowhere with map fragments and told us to find our way to the extraction point? It’s sort of like that.”

"Hated that," Matt groans. Cold had NEVER agreed with him. The only thing he remembered about his childhood was that he was from a warm planet. Hot planet. He had hated that trip. "Took forever to feel warm again."

The very memory makes him shiver.

"Show me this armor of yours. Specs aren't really suitable to discuss," Matt suggests. He would rather not think about the cold. Hopefully his room would be warm.

The weapons, though, they give him pause. Was...

"Is that a grav-hammer?"

He wants that.

“I know you did.” He vividly remembered Matt shivering against him during the brief rests they’d taken on their forced march through the winter choked forests of Reach. It had gotten so bad at a few points even Linda had reluctantly curled up against Matt’s other side to sandwich him between them so they could share as much body heat as possible.

Which was saying a lot considering how remote and hands off Linda had always been.

When Matt expressed an excited interest in the heavy looking Gravity-Hammer resting against one of the weapons racks, the brunette nodded and indicated he was welcome to inspect the weapon while he moved to a cabinet that housed a few suits SPI armor.

“We’re rolling out an upgraded version of the Mark-II armor. SPI armor isn’t MJOLNIR though…not by a long shot. But it’s a fraction of the cost to manufacture and ONI refuses to open up its purse strings to outfit the III’s with anything more advanced considering the nature of the program.” There was something dark and shadowed in Kurt’s eyes when he looked indicated a hanging set of SPI armor. “I’m sure you can do the math. As of Gamma there should be close to a thousand Spartan-III’s out in the field but instead, there is just Gamma and a handful of Spartans I managed to save from the chopping block.”

Kurt’s fingers had unconsciously curled into fists at his side, a true indication of his frustration and outrage at the senseless waste of his Spartans’ lives. “ONI uses them like a cudgel, as a highly trained force capable of doing things even ODST cannot accomplish. They are Spartans and accomplish the mission as is expected but their missions almost invariably end in a near one hundred percent loss.”

“That’s why I need your help, Matt. I need you to help me train them to survive the impossible. To give them every advantage they can possibly have to pull through whatever stupid suicide missions ONI can cook up for them.”

And that was why there were no Alphas to help him train. And only two Betas. The words make Matt bear his teeth in an open snarl. Spartans were not a cudgel. They were a precision instrument. They were a surgical laser: exact, as small or large a unit as needed, and capable of burning a hole through anything if needed. They were the K-Bar you fell back on, not the grenade you threw and never had back.

"This armor doesn't help," he growls, turning away from the hammer to look at it. "Barely any more than what a marine has. The stealth capabilities aren't even too impressive. The UNSC has better tech, problem is the module is larger and requires an internalized power unit. The Sangheili active camp units you see in the field? We have adapted them. With power unit it would slow down a Spartan in an only minimal way. Get your hands on some and you can assign them to scout units, better prepare and the overwatch potential..."

Or they could try and work the Sangheili based tech down like the damn Elites had.

Matt’s palpable outrage and anger was gratifying in its own way mainly because it echoed Kurt’s own resentment and helpless frustration at the waste of his first two classes of Spartans.

“This is what they are made for unfortunately. ONI wanted a highly trained but disposable breed of Spartans who could accomplish the impossible missions even if it meant heavy losses. Alpha destroyed a Covenant shipyard that could have supplied them with enough ships they could have glassed every colony this side of Orion. Beta was assigned to Pegasi Delta to interrupt their ability to mine deuterium and tritium for their plasma reactors and it halted them from further incursions into UNSC space for months while they scrambled to adjust their supply lines. These missions were critical successes and as far as ONI is concerned, worth the price paid. But it’s not good enough for me. I need to train Gamma better so they can stand a chance against those impossible odds.”

Kurt had deliberately waited until they were inside this locked, secure bunker to fill Matt in on the truly grim and bleak history of the Spartan-III branch and his own personal failures as a commander. It didn’t take an ONI head shrink to realize how this sort of thing would drive someone like Kurt-051 mad. He was a Spartan-II and failure was never an option for them but more so than that, he’d spent years training and becoming attached to these troops only to have to make the hardest necessary choice a military leader ever had to make.

“I know it’s not good enough but unfortunately, it’s what we have to work with. We can’t afford to outfit them in MJOLNIR, even some of the newer stuff they’ve been working on which is supposed to be cheaper to fabricate. Our sheer amount of numbers makes it impractical. So they’ve prioritized stealth over brawn for the main companies. I have managed to safe a handful of Spartans from each class which have been reassigned to different divisions including the Headhunters. They get a more advanced version of SPI armor for their missions which tend to be two or three man fireteam missions of high value targets. There’s also a mixed Spartan team based out of Reach…NOBLE. They comprise some of the best and brightest III’s I’ve trained. I managed to twist ONI’s arm into outfitting them with MJOLNIR but they won’t expand our budget beyond that.”

"They are training these kids to die," Maine growls, the very idea of it making him sick. And having the best of them pulled for other units means hurting the unit they have.

"If you have a good AI... I would not suggest trying to get them into the files of my former company. That would be illegal. Even if the project has access to reduced size active camoflaugr units. Which might be adapted to even smaller units of only using small bursts of time. Bad thing to do, even with their less secure systems given the strangeness of their ship AI."

Maine understood some about AI. He knows there was no good way to keep the things away from their crew. The fact that whatever AI ran the ship hadn't seemed to have flipped out over the loss of AI many Freelancers was... worrying.

""I also wouldn't recommend looking into the Charon Corporation with whatever contacts they have, given I am certain they horde Covvie tech for R&D purposes and would likely enjoy ONI contracting to them for fear even if it was at a minor loss."

Just because he had never gotten into the politics of his project didn't mean he hadn't known a bit of what was going on. He had recognized the company's logo in the building, as well as the training of their 'Insurrectionists'. Those were UNSC troops no doubt, possibly even loaners.

Kurt's lips thinned to a bloodless slash as he visibly fought to control his reaction to Matt's statement. Not because he disagreed but because he had been struggling for twenty years to remain strong in the bitter reality of what the Spartan-III program was. "We have to train them to not die. Now you see why I need you, Matt? You and anyone else who can give them any kind of edge so that they can survive the suicide missions ONI puts them on. They play the numbers game. Three hundred lives paid for millions spared."

He heard what the other Spartan was saying and more importantly...what he wasn't saying. They had dumb AI who served a variety of capacities around the camp but what Matt was describing would need the abilities of a smart AI. Kurt spared a moment of regret for the loss of Deep Winter recently. It had been very accommodating and showed a great amount of concern for the Spartans who resisted at Currahee. It had used the last pieces of it's lifespan in an attempt to warn Kurt of the illegal cocktail of drugs incorporated into Gamma's augmentation procedures, never realizing Kurt had been the one who had them placed there.

Now, he was stuck with this unknown new AI who had been installed in Deep Winter's place. The info dump he'd received on the AI hadn't exactly filled him with a lot of hope. This new AI, Endless Summer seemed very standoffish and he had a feeling it might end up being difficult like Eternal Spring had been. He would have to wait and see.

"I will see what I can do. ONI has it's own smart AI that is housed on the planet but that might be a can of worms left undisturbed." He strongly suspected Matt had just been telling him a round about way who he needed to look into but if his brother wanted to skirt around it in hopes of maintaining some level of plausible deniability, he wouldn't rob him of that.

"We will figure it out," Maine insists firmly. He won't let them die. He will do all in his power to keep them alive. It was only right that he do so. Hopefully together they could do something different. Something big. Something to change all of this.

"I want to look over the specs deeper. Learned a lot about armor with my last gig. So I might be able to come up with more. I will do my best to that end actually."

Perhaps that might be the best arrangement. He frowns though at the situation. "Okay. So we need... we are going to have to wake them up soon. Be officially introduced. Schedules to be made while they adjust."

"Thank you, Matt." He said that with honest sincerity in his voice as he regarded the other Spartan. It was heartening in a way to see someone else just as determined to make sure that Gamma would not fall to the same fate as Alpha and Beta companies had.

"You'll have full access to everything we have. And...if this will help in any way, this as well." Kurt had to enter a completely different code in order to access the locker containing his MJOLRNIR armor. It was in pristine condition even after all these years because he'd spent countless hours learning the ins and outs of the armor even if he didn't wear it anymore. The power plant was still online and functioning smoothly to keep it ready and on standby for whenever he decided to take it up again.

"I expect there will be some grogginess so Mendez will only put them through some light paces today to help them loosen up and shake off the cob-webs from being in stasis. Tomorrow is when the real work will begin. Have you decided how you want to address the elephant in the room? Will you tell them you're Spartan?"

For a long time Matt doesn't answer. Mjolnir. He stands there for a moment, staring. He doesn't dare touch. He had never been deemed good enough for it. Even now he would get SPI if he ever wore anything. This was what a SPARTAN earned.

"Beautiful," he says softly. Envy I clearly there in his voice. Seeing it only reminds him, though, and Matt turns away.

"Might as well. They don't need to know I wasn't good enough for the armor. Knocking me down some might even build confidence."

Kurt hadn't worn it in almost twenty years himself because he'd had to divorce himself from that part of his past if he could survive as the man they expected him to be. Kurt-051 had died as far as anyone was concerned and now, Kurt Ambrose had to walk his own path. So in a way, he understood the complex emotions no doubt racing through Matt.

But he wasn't prepared to his hear brother speak of himself in such a self-deprecating manner and was shocked to find just how much it troubled him.

"Matt...it wasn't that you weren't good enough. You just had a bad reaction to the augmentations just like half the other people in our class did. That was not on you." Kurt being the person he was, the person he had become learning how to care for war-scarred orphans automatically sought to try and boost Matt's confidence and to try and make him see that he was not lacking just because he could not wear MJOLNIR. "You're still a Spartan even without this overpriced piece of tin. That is something you've proven beyond a shadow of a doubt because you have been fighting in this war just like the rest of us and you're still alive which is more than way too many of our brothers and sisters can claim. That's why I'm trusting you to help me train Gamma so that they can survive as well."

"You take for granted what you had," Maine counters. Kurt never had to take that rejection, that failure. "You don't know, Kurt. You're lucky like that. Because you were chosen. To be more. To guide. To lead. I was discarded. You say I survived this war, but you've seen my record."

So many positions, no advancement, and nothing lasting. Too many instances where he was the last surviving member of a team. Plenty of time in the service in recovery until it had gotten to the point where he could feel the difference between a hairline fracture, a fracture, a break, or just a sprain. He knew it all. He was a mess of scars and he'd probably broken more bones than many other Spartans.

"You were wanted, Kurt. I wasn't because my hands shook a bit. Could have handled that. But no, can't give me a chance to deal with it. Can't see if there is a way to deal with my hearing. A far lesser man managed it. Our program didn't think it was worth it."

He hasn't been a Spartan for a very long time. If he can steal the title back now he will take it.

He didn't react in the face of all off that terrible, bottled up bitterness and resentment that poured from Matt like a wound that desperately needed to be lanced. In a way, he didn't necessarily disagree with what his brother said either.

But then, that was at its core, his major issues with Catherine Halsey summed up neatly. Her wastefulness and willingness to write off those who didn't meet her strident criteria out of hand.

"That is Catherine Halsey's short-sightedness. She is the one with the obsession with perfection, not me. You might not meet her exacting standards of what a Spartan is supposed to be but she's a civilian living in a perfect, self-created bubble. You and I have seen this war in all of its gruesome messiness. Yes, I think it's a complete waste that you've spent the past twenty years not being used to your fullest potential but the fact that you spent twenty years on the front lines and are still alive and kicking while plenty of our brothers and sisters have died says more about your skills than you give yourself credit for."

Kurt said with a deadly serious look on his face. "That armor does not make a Spartan. My III's have as much guts and heart as we ever did. Maybe even more so because they volunteered for this rather than being hijacked into this life. But they have given everything including their lives to stand between humanity and the Covenant. Which is what Spartan is at its core. And it hurts me to hear you dismiss your value so easily because you're just as much of a Spartan as me or any of my III's. Fancy equipment and perfect genes don't make us who we are, Matt and twenty years ago, if I'd been in the position I am now I would have snatched you up in a heartbeat because you have all the same training and ability as any of the other II's even if your hands shake a little and your hearing wasn't as good as it should have been."

Bitter. If Matt knew it was a term being applied to him, he would have laughed. There had been a time, not long after Halsey had dismissed him and before his first posting that he had wondered what it had all been for. He had no memory at all of what life had been before he had been taken. The fact that his name was Matt only survived because it had been used since day one. At this point he couldn't even say whether it was his full first name or not, he had lost so very much. Had he possessed a family, had he been loved? Was he from a core world or a colony? Was his home planet glasses? Was he an orphan or did his parents still live out there, still hold on to his favorite toy?

Matt was a mystery to himself, and Spartan had been everything. The men and women he grew up with had been his family. Kurt and Linda practically real siblings in his mind given they had been set up day one as a unit.

No records would ever show that the young man, deemed unfit for Halsey's project, had wondered if his dead brothers and sisters weren't luckier. If the crippled ones weren't luckier. Whether he should cease. After his first deployment he wished he could become a real soldier, but even that hadn't really worked out. Nowhere seemed to last. He had no home like Spartan had been to him growing up.

And none of it could be said. Not even now. After all this time apart he still wasn't sure he could trust even Kurt to know how close he was to just giving up. How he saw this as his second chance to prove himself. To belong. To find a family.

There was only one thing he could think of to say, only one thing he could say despite his almost clenched teeth and his tightly balled fists giving away how wound up he really was.

"They don't shake much anymore. Almost never unless I'm tired. The last job, they. I don't know how read in you are. They helped. I would pass her standards now."

Kurt was trying to understand where Matt was coming from but it was hard for him because their paths had been so different. Sure, they’d both seen a life outside the program, had experienced things no other Spartan had probably ever known but Matt was right in one regard.

He hadn’t known the sting of rejection, hadn’t been labeled as unfit for duty because of a side-effect he had zero control over. Of course, Kurt would argue that Matt didn’t know his story either or the trials he’d faced. For the first time, he became aware of a gulf of distance between them. And it unnerved him because there had never been one there before.

It made him want to overcompensate, to prove to his brother that despite the time and distance, their relationship would not change. But it already had in a multitude of ways.

"I got the broad strokes. Something about lending you out to one of those magic bullet programs trying to figure out how to win the war. Never heard of the guy in charge but the briefing said he's a civilian scientist contracted through ONI and that he was doing something with some experimental armor and AI integration."

"They said AI, not that one was provided before you," Matt admits. If Kurt knows that much he can keep going, clearly.

"Had to lay in a more complex neural net than we already have. Don't know why. Whatever it was they did took out most of the shakes. Only happens now if I haven't slept for days. Still not the best shot."

The memories of Linda's disapproval almost made him want to laugh.

"Think they put in something for my hearing while I was under. Don't know. Don't have access to my own medical records. Don't have clearance for it."

How ironic was that? The very thought gets him to crack a smile and melts his tension. Kurt was still Kurt. Matt's bitterness was something he had learned to put behind him. It was the armor Kurt didn't even wear that made him upset. He had no intention of ever looking at it again.

That earned Matt a curious look because he hadn't been told that interesting tidbit of information about him needing a more complex neural net installed.

"Sounds like they were maybe doing the upgrade to support an onboard AI passenger maybe?" Kurt himself was still equipted with the original neutral net implant and never had his upgraded mainly because he saw no need for it. He didn't wear any of the newer, more upgraded MJOLNIR, didn't even wear his original suit because he didn't particularly feel like he was worthy of wearing it these days.

Matt might judge him for that if he'd known but they both had their own secret traumas they were working through and as it was becoming clear, they'd both gotten good at holding onto their secrets.

"I'm glad they were able to help you out as much as they did then."

"Maybe they helped me but they tried to tear people down," Maine counters. The very memory makes him angry.

"What I'm here for is to build up. These Spartans of yours, they're going to live, Kurt. I'll give them everything I've learned. I will do everything I can. Just tell me how I can help you."

He wants to start moving. Start doing something. Or maybe they can let Mendez and the younger Spartan Bravos take over. He almost wants to just sit with Kurt and play cards and talk about techniques and maybe spar a little. Be friends while they can.

Kurt was visibly troubled and obviously wanted to say something to that but couldn’t come up with anything to say. He hadn’t been given that much information about the shadowy Project Freelancer beyond the broadest of strokes. Ackerson had implied Leonard Church was cut from the same cloth as Catherine Halsey which was yielded more like it was a curse than a compliment. He took that to mean the man was a civilian scientist who didn’t care whose toes he stepped on with his single-minded focus on attaining his goals.

The man didn’t seem to be kidnapping children and replacing them with flash clones though so at least the man hadn’t stooped to that level yet.

“That’s what I want, thank you, Matt.” Kurt said sincerely and clapped the other man on the shoulder tightly in an attempt to convey just how much that meant to him. He was demonstrative for a Spartan but even he wasn’t the huggy type and that brusque touch was about all he knew to offer.

“Let’s continue the tour and grab some grub from the mess before things get too crowded. You’ll pleased to hear we have plenty of chocolate pudding to go around.”

"I eat more than pudding," Matt laughs as he moves to Kurt's side. Another time, another situation leading up to the tension, he might have indulged in a hug. A brief one. An arm wrapped around a shoulder. That much he had gotten somewhat okay with, given the behavior of some of the other Freelancers.

Truth be told, though, all he manages is a pat on Kurt's back. "Let Mendez work. After all he put me through, I'd like to see him shout at someone else before I step in to help."

Tomorrow is soon enough to meet the new Spartans, to introduce himself. To let them know that it gets real from now on.

“I should hope so or we’d have to have an intervention for you.” Kurt teased with a laugh as he and Matt left the armory behind. It didn’t escape the brunette that he’d probably laughed and felt happier in the past few weeks than he’d been in the past decade.

He sensed Tom and Lucy had noted the change in his demeanor and Mendez had given the two of them some knowing looks but thus far hadn’t called the two Spartans out. But honestly, he was just too damned thrilled to be reunited not only with a fellow II but also his original squad mate and the man who was as close as he had to a brother in everything but blood.

“Heh, Mendez hasn’t lost a step even with age. Sometimes I’ll hear him shouting at the recruits all the way across the compound and have to fight the urge to snap to attention myself.” He confessed with a wry look.

"When I heard him back when you heard me..." Matt shakes his head and smirks briefly. "I almost did. Wasn't sure how to handle it. That he would be there."

Stranger still was the way Mendez treated him. But knowing now what he knew of Mendez's long work with Kurt, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Thing was he didn't know how to process that. He felt young, he felt hopeful, he felt like he might be home, and none of it made sense after everything he'd been through, after everywhere he'd gone and all the things he'd done and all the people he'd known.

"So... which of the kitchen staff do I have to butter up for that pudding?" Matt teased lightly. He needed to get some once in a while. Make sure the staff knew he liked it in case they chose to favor him with their fondness.

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