- Rainman89
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Read about the Forgotten Spartan I Program
Butane: To protect the world from devastation!
sir_brilliant: To unite all people within our nation!
Rainman89: To denounce the evils of truth and love!
sir_brilliant: To extend out reach to the stars above!
SpaceGhostFlyer: Jessie!
Butane: James!
sir_brilliant: Team Rocket blasting off at the speed of light
Butane: Surrender now or prepare to fight
sir_brilliant: Meowth, that's right!
Here is some more of chapter nine, also i have made some minor changes to the chapters, and the first one to figure it out gets the rest of the chapter PMed to him/her four hours before I post it here, anyway here is some more...
Simmons walked away from the course as the sun started to set. He watched his long shadow copy his every move before him. He walked the seven miles back to his barracks double time, and made it in a little over an hour. Before he turned inside he looked back, he could still see the top of the enormous complex over the rolling hills of Reach’s landscape. The sun had finally set, and the stars shone brightly onto him. Simmons finally opened the door and walked to his quarters. His clothing had been folded neatly, his M6C was holstered and on top off his small cot, his bag was under it. Simmons moved the M6C to his dresser and plopped down on the cot. He didn’t try to fall asleep, he just thought. For hours on end he simply sat there thinking about the past week he had spent on Reach. He wondered why Dr. Halsey wouldn’t speak to him, why he wouldn’t speak to the Spartan’s. Then, against his will, he drifted to sleep.
0400 Hours, February 13/(Military Calendar)
Epsilon Eridani System, Reach Medical
Complex, Planet Reach
Today Simmons Swore he would talk to the Spartan’s, he just wanted the right opportunity. He drove to the course inside the Complex in a borrowed warthog and parked on the edge of the hill over looking the parade grounds and obstacle course. He sat on the bumper of the warthog and watched as the seventy five Spartans filed out onto the parade grounds, the man drilling them, CPO Mendez, was the shortest man out there, but he commanded respect, and he could tell all of the Spartans not only respected him, but feared him.
As they finished their drills and walked for the obstacle course Simmons sat down on the dewy grass. His boots quickly became soaked from the watery residue, but his feet stayed dry, so he didn’t care. The Children ran through the obstacle course. Simmons noticed the girl finish first again, he wanted badly to test himself against her, but decided against it. As the final Spartan finished the course they gathered around the CPO. Mendez began to speak, but even Simmons augmented hearing couldn’t pick up what he was saying. Mendez looked at Simmons and then back at his Spartans. Simmons wondered what that was about, and received an answer as the three boys who had stared at him three days ago walked towards him. Simmons started to walk for the driver’s seat of the Warthog, but checked the motion; it would be suspicious if an ODST tore off while watching Spartans drill. He simply stood up and awaited their arrival. As they walked up the hill the sandy haired one spoke up.
“CPO Mendez wants to see you,” he shouted, he seemed to command authority, apparently He thought he was ion control, he thought wrong.
“Tell CPO Mendez that he will kindly come up here and request that I speak to him.” Simmons said as they finally caught glimpse of his insignia. The two others saluted him, and Simmons returned it, but the taller one simply stared at him. “Do I need to put that in the form of an order?” he asked him.
“No, sir,” said one of the others, the Sandy haired one refused to speak. “CPO MENDEZ wishes to discuss classified material with you, and feels this location to be unsafe, he believes the parade ground to be more secure.”
“Very well,” Simmons regrettably replied, and followed them to Mendez.
As Simmons locked eyes with the Chief Petty Officer he knew he recognized him. The Spartans were apparently unaware off this, as they simply looked at the two of them in awe.
“Lieutenant, you are here everyday, watching my men, and I want to know why,” The CPO said.
“I have my reasons and I happen to know you are aware of them.”
“But my Spartan’s do not, and I am sure they are curious,” Mendez told him.
“Well then why don’t you tell them?” Simmons asked.
“I would rather show them, Recruit Kelly, on the double.” As He said this one of the Spartans walked forward, it was the fast one, Simmons knew what was next, by the look on her face Simmons could tell she didn’t. “Simmons, I wish for you to race my fastest Spartan in my obstacle course.”
“Okay,” Simmons replied, “But it’s hard to race myself, I usually tie.” He jokingly replied.
Kelly now was aware what she was supposed to do, but Simmons comment had confused here and she barely heard Mendez shout “GO!”
Pleased with his head start Simmons sprinted the first one hundred yards in eight seconds, and then he jumped over the low-lying hurdles. He was a full thirty Meters ahead of the girl when he reached the first real obstacle. The Fence stood ten meters tall, and wood blocks jutted out at random places. Simmons climbed with lightning speed, but the Kelly climbed faster.
As Simmons jumped off the top, with a resounding thud and a cloud of dust, he noticed the girl was almost to the top. He Sprinted to the next obstacle, a man made lake, and swam across.
Kelly was obviously not a swimmer, as Simmons gained back his thirty-meter lead with ease. Once out of the pool he turned the corner of the course into a set of monkey bars. Mendez had put forth an odd course, but Simmons followed it all the same. He pulled himself on top of the monkey bars and ran the two hundred meters instead of pulling himself, he wondered if that meant disqualification.
As he ran the third leg of the course and turned the corner he saw a mile long sprint, the track was covered by rubber pellet machine guns. At least he hoped they were rubber pellet. He hesitated and Kelly nearly caught up with him. But he sprinted off, as the guns opened fire. As He was struck by the first round he realized they were not rubber pellets, but paintballs. He lowed down and was hit by three more. They stung but he kept going. He clutched his chest and full out sprinted the next quarter mile. He knew he was not a long distance runner, and hoped Kelly wasn’t either. He checked his lead; it was still substantial and he slowed to a quick jog until she was only two meters behind. He used his last burst of energy to cross the finish line ahead. And then he rolled onto the ground.
Exhausted he gasped for air and stared into the beautiful blue sky. Kelly finished a few seconds later, and Simmons could tell she was angry. She spit onto the ground and looked away from him in disgust, she dared not look at the other Spartan’s, too. Mendez started to clap his hands as Simmons stood up, but the Spartans did not. They apparently didn’t like one of their kind being beaten by an ODST. Little did they know; he was their kind.