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Training Games
Posted By: Jester<jre333@bellsouth.net>
Date: 5 August 2005, 8:31 pm
Read/Post Comments
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ONI SpartanIV training center, New Reach
August 12, 2586
The room was small, defined by precise lines that left the place feeling even smaller than it really was. For the moment this room was Eric's world. It and everything in it was all that existed.
With the lights dimmed as they were, Eric could barely make out his own hand. It didn't matter. He reached out, grasping a side of the room with each hand. Smooth rock met his touch as he raised his hands until they reached the ceiling.
"You are not ready." It continued. "You will surely fail." He recognized the dark, heavy voice of his teacher. It came from all around him, projected so by the dimensions of the room. And it was getting louder.
Eric concentrated on it, trying to discern from which direction it actually came. It came louder from behind him now.
He whirled quickly, ready to strike, only to be hit from the opposite direction. He spun around again, frustrated with himself. He should have caught that attack. He lent over everything in him to anticipating the next attack. Eric spread his fingers wide, feeling the disturbances in the air. He blocked the murky smell of the chamber from his senses. And then he knew. It was incredibly easy to reach out and catch the hand that was about to connect with his face.
"Better." The voice no longer came from all around, but from right in front of him. There was a small hum as a trio of floodlights blinked on from far above him.
It appeared that the room was not as small as he had been led to believe. Rather, it wasn't that small anymore. Eric couldn't begin to think of how the techies had managed to put this together, and he didn't really care. Each part of the room was a separate piece that could be reconfigured to fit in any number of configurations. Even as he was standing there, the walls flattened out, rising higher as the ceiling folded outwards. The structure now belittled him.
"Amazing isn't it." An old man stepped out from one of the remaining shadows. "The first time I saw it I almost didn't believe it. Still don't know how it works."
Eric studied the old man. He traced the old man's face in his imagination, each hard line that made up his gruff face familiar to him. The man's silver hair rested atop his head like an eagles nest. These were the only characteristics that belied his age, for his body was as fit as anyone could hope for, muscles rippling across his body. This old man was his teacher.
"I never knew this place existed. How did you hide it for so long.?" Eric asked.
"You've been here before. Let's just say that its talents are not purely limited to what you've seen today. The rest, I'll leave to your imagination." The man looked up, studying the living wall with a childlike interest before returning his attention to Eric.
"Why did you miss my first attack?" the man asked.
"I relied solely on sound in a place where sound was the most deceiving sense."
"And the second time" he probed.
"There were two distinctive things about that room. The first being the lack of air flow. When you moved I could feel the air move with you. Secondly, the place smelled musty, where as you smelled a little like pineapples. Was that your lunch John?"
John smiled, clearly pleased. "Dessert actually. Pineapple ice cream."
Eric smiled back. "So what's next? What other trials and tribulations do I have to pass?"
The smile remained fixed on John's face. "Meet me in my office in an hour and I'll tell you."
* * *
Eric barely had time to take a quick shower and grab a quick bite to eat before he had to be in the Chief's office. The shower had made him realize just how tired he was. The private training sessions with the Chief had worn him out over the last month. Whether it was just running a course or lifting weights in the gym, he had always ended up tired at the end of the day. John always found a way to push Eric past what he thought himself capable of.
Eric suddenly felt someone's hand touch his shoulder lightly. He turned around startled to stare into the deep green eyes of his best friend.
The sight of those eyes spurred a memory from long ago. Of how at first he had d the owner of those eyes.
Eric walked down the long ramp of the shuttle, dimly aware that he was not with his parents. He didn't know what was going on, and he felt too sick to care. It was cold too, the wind cutting into his ears. He was still trying to figure out what was going on when something smashed him into the ramp. Eric turned over slowly, his eye feeling as a big as a pear. He made out a flash of green as a cold voice said
"Get out of my way runt."
Russ shook Eric out of his thoughts. "Where are you heading man?"
Eric was silent for a second before answering. "The Chief asked me to see him." Eric continued on, answering the question that Russ would have asked. "I don't know why. I'm a bit nervous."
Russ's eyes became mysterious, a smile forming on his face.
"What is it Russ? What do you know?"
Russ just shook his head.
"Come on. We're friends, you can tell me."
"You'll find out in a minute." With that Russ slapped him on the back and was gone.
Eric stood in the hall for a minute, wondering what the Chief was going to tell him, and then decided to go find out for himself.
Eric arrived at the Chief's office and keyed the door bell. The door whisked open silently. He stepped inside slowly. He had only been here once before, before his training had begun. He didn't even remember why, though he did remember the layout and it seemed as though nothing had changed.
An old wicker rocking chair stood just to the right of the door, with the couch laying beside the office door..
"Come on in Eric." John's voice came from the office.
Eric walked in; his had skirting across the door frame. He was surprised at what lay inside. In stark opposition to the main room the office was decked out in opulent fashion. Rich Celpin wood lined the walls, thick red carpeting supporting the translucent desk.
John was studying Eric's reaction, a small smile forming on his lips. He shattered the silence, trying to lend a comfortable air to the place.
"It was a gift from the brass a couple years back. Not my style, but I could hardly refuse." The Chief motioned to an empty leather chair.
Eric, still surprised sat down slowly, struggling not to laugh. He shook his head slowly, and managed a few words. "What did you want to see me about sir?"
"A game."
* * *
Snowflakes melted as they touched the MJOLNIR armor. Eric couldn't truly imagine what the snow would feel like, for he had never been out of the training complex.
He hefted the Battle in his hand, straining down the sight at his enemy. Instead of immediately , Eric took out one of his two remaining frag s, pinned it, and threw it at the building. The e baseball bounced off the slanted surface of the wall right into his enemy's face. Even as the exploded, Eric was already firing. Without shields the Spartan fell quickly.
Grinning, Eric jumped down the side of the building, landing deftly on the catwalk below. His motion sensor detected one of his friends on his six. Eric didn't pause, but instead continued up the catwalk, jumping onto the door frame and from there to the top of the building.
He almost ran into the blue Spartan that was crouched there. Eric was about to bring the butt of his down on the Spartan's armored back when he felt any icy tingle run down his spine, and then nothing.
The holographic imager peeled away from his face and Eric was left to wonder what had happened. He wiggled out of the rest of the imager and almost fell over. He stood there for a second, trying to collect his breath.
A firm hand grasped his shoulder and helped him up.
"I thought this was fake. I didn't know it would hurt."
"You got nailed in the back with a sword. The imager reproduces the pain that the weapon would cause. Actually, you should be ."
"That's a wonderful thought."
There was a sudden flash as Keff appeared on the AI pedestal. Keff glanced at Eric before focusing his attention on the Chief. "The Earth ambassador has just passed through security."
John grunted in annoyance. "I need an assistant to do this stuff for me. Politics are for politicians, not Spartans." John gave a brief nod to Eric and left the room.
* * *
Eric took a sip of his juice. He began playing with his food, drawing his spoon around in the soup.
The long food hall was crowded this morning, yet Eric sat alone. Most of the kids in here were just candidates. They all sat grouped near the door, while the trainees dispersed around the back of the room.
Eric almost spilled his drink as Russ slapped him on the back. It wasn't the friendly happy slap that felt normal, but one of sadness. Eric looked up, his eyes compelling a sense of boredom.
Russ's eyes were fiery with anger. "They're the budget. No more Spartan program."
"Who?" Eric asked.
"The brass that came in yesterday. They're going to recommend that the Spartan program be terminated."
"What are they going to do with us?"
"Send us home."
Home A terrifying shudder ran through him as he contemplated the thought.
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