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Part 8: Nightmares
July 14th, 2552 Military Calendar Planet Reach, ONI First Division Personnel Barracks
Scott's head hurt, the implants he remembered, they always hurt when someone toggled them. ONI section one, he was with them, his mind was hazy because they had drugged him, it wasn't a drug. His mind was sharp, his senses were dulled, this was a test, and this was their test for him. It was different than any other test they would have ever made, he would be their unique candidate, and there was no Intel he could have stolen. He remembered now, he was at reach, he was home.
Scott focused on his surroundings, he was in a bunker, no, he was in a hospital, no he was on a table, strapped down, he had broken one of his bonds. He willed his eyes to draw the details out of the room, what did it tell him, what could he recall? His mind refused to remember how he had got there, he remembered a beautiful girl in white, those old eyes from the hard faced Asian vice admiral. "Mjolnir," some one had said to him, when, he couldn't remember.
In his mind the mission stood out, he couldn't will his memory back, but he knew he had something to do, something so base, so perfect that it defined him. Then he felt it, within him the cobwebs cleared, his implants making their presence known, and his instincts driving his body. His hands tore his restraints, there was a barrier, and he was already finding a means to break it, to vault it, he was out of the room. He knew every detail of that room, but he couldn't see it. There was a thing, a person, a biped, it was armed, and then it was dead, his hands took its weapons.
Vice Admiral Adrian Yu watched with his wrinkled hands nestled together before his nose, the monitors and holographic displays showed every aspect of the Spartan's movements from thirteen different angles, Scott 079 was in his own world, plugged into an AI construct where multiple technicians worked to keep him unaware of the falsehood of the environment. They were going to present him with his worst fears and greatest challenges, if his mind didn't snap; Yu would know he finally had his man.
"He's escaped sir," the technician said monitoring the progress of the initial challenge.
"Begin the simulation; keep him unaware, I want every scenario covered with execution at the end." Yu ordered the technicians, faceless men and women behind keyboards and sensors. He turned and left his seat among the rows of computers and displays, walked down the hall to the holding cell, behind its glass doors a team of three of ONI's top physicians monitored the SPARTAN suspended like a puppet in the air by a web of cables, a pneumatic lift attached to his waist by a belt. The soldier looked pathetic, eyes glassed over, mouth hanging open drooling, and air tubes forcing him to breathe, stimuli pins stimulating his heart. The procedure was dangerous, but so much more effective in evaluating an operative's capabilities than traditional testing methods. The implant at the base of his skull, recently installed, was designed after Halsey's own devices for the Spartans, Yu mused over how much the good doctor had provided for him in her own delusional plans to end this war. His COM link chirped and he answered "report."
"The subject has neutralized all targets and escaped scenario A completed, one hundred percent kill ratio, even against the alpha." The technician reported.
Yu didn't smile, but he was pleased, the first sign was there. "Move onto scenario B"
Scott was in his armor, his mind was clear, his senses alive; he was angry, furious, running through a scorched cityscape. It was night, and he was a ghost in his half ton second skin, his eyes saw everything, red letters on his HUD flared "eliminate all hostile forces." The first silhouettes of heat came across his vision, and he snapped the elongated heavy assault rifle forward and squeezed the trigger. Fourteen rounds exploded from the rifle and tore through the targets, how many were there? How many had he hit? Scott couldn't remember he just knew everything was dead. He ran forward still.
The ruined streets became a plaza, and the sea of rubble split to reveal enemy transports docked in the darkness, sweeping sensors and lights roving the area, there were two heavily armored targets by the transports, his eyes hurt as he watched them. What did they look like, why couldn't he tell? They were armored, wasn't that his armor? Weren't they in MJOLNIR mark VI like him? Or were they covenant? He couldn't remember, the shots fired at him on the way there, were they plasma or bullets or something else altogether.
He readied the under slung grenade launcher and targeted the first transport. It exploded, his hand ejected the shell of the RPG round, it smoldered, and the plaza was alight with flames. His gun was barking slugs out at targets, the heavily armored targets were already dead, and he had shattered their helmets and let them die. He was running now, dodging backwards and forwards, using ambient lighting and soft cover, all of the targets were dying around him. Red lights flared in his HUD "seize unmanned transport."
Yu sat behind his console, watching the display, watching how fast the Spartan reacted despite the disorienting effects of the plug in. "bravo and gamma neutralized sir, 100% kill ratio, and seventy-five percent stealth efficiency." The technician spoke over his shoulder. "Begin scenario C," Yu replied succinctly.
Adrian Yu was a weathered soldier, though his body hardly showed it on the outside. For a man of sixty six years, forty six of which had been in the Navy's service, twenty four of which had led him to the head of ONI section one's operations division. Those twenty four years had begun with his act of valor in the face of overwhelming odds; he had led the extraction team that had ensured the safety of fourteen political dignitaries from earth and sixteen civilian hostages during a ship to ship engagement over Huron IV's research station. That seemed so long ago to Yu now, how he had been special forces operative, but that one night, mired in the blood of so many men and women had made his career, and made him a husband.
The twenty eight year old porter on the shuttle they had recovered had been a beautiful young girl with long tresses of black hair. She fell in love with him on the ensuing trip back to earth from Huron, two weeks with a repair above Reach's azure skies and he was going to be a husband. Although it took him a year and a half to finish his ship's tour of duty, he returned to marry her, and be reassigned at ONI section one on Reach, he started his family then; those three beautiful girls he had been granted.
Yu was a father.
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