2,270Min missed his Mjolnir armour. It had been a constant companion since the completion of his training under COP Mendez and Captain Ambrose. The only things he held closer than his armour was his teammates. They were his backup, his friends, and his siblings. Each company of Spartans were close to the others, but there was a solidarity and a comradery to be found amongst those of their own generation. Min had experienced it in Beta, had seen it when Gamma was training, and was seeing it now as Delta ran through their drills.
Min wasn't overseeing them as a member of their drill instructors though, He was doing it on his own time. He had a lot of that now, his own time. The small datapad wasn't nearly hot enough to cause physical discomfort, but the significance of what was on it kept drawing his eyes back to it like it was a live grenade about to go off. A single pack of files was evoking an emotion in the spartan that was almost foreign; anxiety. Min was officially, as of 08:47 that morning, the first spartan to be officially discharged from the UNSC to become part of a civilian planetary government.
For possibly the first time, a spartan ID tag on the UNSC battle net had changed from active to honourable discharge. Not to the traditional MIA that came with the normal ways spartans ended their service. Min wasn't missing, wasn't dead, he was retired. The word felt wrong. For all the fact that the saying was 'spartans never die, they're just MIA' it seemed almost more wrong to see his own status change to anything other than that honourable marker. Min had brothers and sisters whose names wore that tag. Was it a dishonour to them for him to just leave? The war wasn't over, humanity still needed spartans, and the Covenant was still rampaging across space, butchering billions, and leaving orphans like Min mourning families that were now nothing more than ash and glass.
A flicker of light came from the pad, drawing Min's attention away from where the deltas were crawling through mud under rows upon rows of barbed wire. They hadn't yet introduced dummy fire into the exercise, but blanks were being shot at the edged of the muddy trench, likely scaring any nearby locals. Not the deltas though. They'd been at training long enough that only a few of them even flinched when a round was fired close to them, the rest kept their eyes focused firmly ahead and slogged through the muck with gritted teeth but without complaint.
Checking the pad, Min saw the captain's ID flash, covering his discharge paperwork with a request to see him. Min turned away from the deltas, making his way to the mongoose that he had parked just on the other side of the small hill he was standing on. Reving the engine, he made his way back to the Plataea.
The elevator ride from the ships ground entrance took a little more than a minute, but it dropped him off on the deck 18, where the captain's favourite office just down from the main bridge was nestled, the only room in its quadrant and surrounded by fifteen feet of solid steel on every side, better to counter infiltration tech by ONI agents not loyal to Lord Hood and the at the time, newly liberated Spartan III program. Min waved his new civilian ID over the door's scanner and walked through the door. Sitting at a desk, sorting though what were likely requisition orders and discharge forms like his own, sat his captain.
"Min." The captain smiled.
Min pulled a crisp salute on instinct, looking the picture of military discipline.
"Sir."
"You're not enlisted anymore Min; you don't have to call me sir anymore."
"Yes sir."
The captain chuckled and gestured to one of the seats.
"You're officially discharged now Min. You're a free man, as the saying goes." Kurt tapped a few keys on his holo-table, and the screen behind him flared to life.
"We have naval personnel, ship security and ship techs already processed. Almost four hundred men and women ready to start their lives here on this world. By the end of the year, we expect that only about three hundred UNSC personnel will still be part of the naval security force that we're setting up."
Min felt the captain's eyes on him.
"Most of them are claiming land on the island or over in Essos for personal dwellings. We're using the ship's fabricators and the resource harvesters in orbit to collect material to extend the power grid, install plumbing and sewage piping and other necessities. You understand what I'm asking you to do, correct."
"Understood sir, you want me to lodge my intentions for relocation."
"Yes."
Kurt chuckled.
"When Spartan Beta company was starting its training and Alpha was just getting back from Operation Vulcan, I spoke with Lord Hood on the subject of spartan retirement. It was unlikely, given the way the war was going, and I almost think it was more a joke that was misunderstood, but in accordance with regulations ninety-two subsection seventeen-B, you are entitled to special military pension. The thing is, you're the first spartan to use it and these aren't normal circumstances. UNSC credits aren't exactly a valid currency out here, and there's not exactly an infrastructure for solid conversion."
"It's fine Captain, I-"
"The thing is-" Kurt continued on, interrupting Min with a raised eyebrow. "We need to figure out a way to properly compensate our spartans, and without a working economy, the best I can do is ask you if there's anything you want."
The captain leaned forwards, a smile forming on his face.
"So, Min, what do you want?"
What did he want? It was such a simple question on paper, but the deeper one thought, the more muddied it became. Ideally, Min wanted to be back on the warfront, taking down Covenant resources and making them pay for everything they'd done. He wanted to serve humanity the way he had been taught since he'd first been taken in under the Spartan III program.
That want was impossible however, and barring that Min had spent most of his life being taught not to want anything for himself. To suddenly have the question posed to him, it was jarring. It almost felt wrong. Selfish to ask for something for himself. Still, the captain, the man who had all but raised every one of the Spartan IIIs, was asking him to make that choice, and Min wouldn't disrespect him, his brothers and sister, or himself, by giving it anything other than his full attention.
So, Min sat in his chair and thought. Without war he would need something to do. Retirement was one thing, being idle was another. One was regrettable, the other unacceptable. He needed activity, he needed a job. Not something in the city itself. There was little more than construction work to be done around there, and Min knew from experience that he didn't like that kind of work.
Well, at least most of the time. He thought to the valley. The hall he and Adam had worked on. Had used leave and breaks to fix up. He thought back to the times they'd had to break up scuffles and fights and how they'd defended it during the strange incursions by what the locals had deemed 'The Others'.
"There's a valley sir. It's up in the North, past the wall. We set up a research base there."
"I know it." Kurt nodded.
"Adam and I, we set up a structure there. During our shore leave, we didn't violate any regulations I mean. I… If it's possible, I'd like to make an application for that piece of land."
"The whole valley?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "That's a bit more than we've allotted for civilian colonisation. Not to mention we still have a UNSC military observation centre set up there."
"I understand sir. I'll revise my- "
"Then again. The station is mostly a formality now, and there's been a large enough local presence due to the shelter that we can't expect it to be anonymous or out of the way for much longer."
Kurt smiled.
"Between all that and the special nature of Spartan pensions. I think we can set that as a good baseline for your retirement benefits. We might have some pushback from the civilian integration committees with regards to possible cultural contamination. But considering everything with the Westerosi and our gains in Essos, I don't think they'll object too badly."
"Sir. If it's going to cause trouble, I can always change- "
"Min. I asked you what you wanted and this was it. This is what you want, right?"
Min thought for a second.
"Yes sir. It is."
"Then we'll work something out. I owe it to you. To every one of you."
The captain circled around the desk until he stood in front of Min. The younger spartan stood, assuming a parade rest.
"My biggest regret in life is that what I did to all of you was necessary." Kurt said. "The war was going so badly, there were war orphans in their thousands, in their millions fleeing burning world. I understood at the time that what I was doing was serving humanity and strengthening the war effort. We needed every spartan we could get in those days."
Kurt leaned back against the desk and motioned for Min to sit back down.
"I guess I never thought we'd live to see the day when we had to give up the fight. I expected us to die on one of the missions ONI handed down. If nothing else, when we were getting ready for Operations Red and Blue flag, I thought for sure we'd go down with the proverbial ship during that one. Now we're here, and we have to find a way to live.
I'm sorry Min. I'm saying it to you first because you're the one here, but I'll say it to every one of you when you retire. I'm sorry I stole your lives from you. Your childhoods shouldn't have been combat drills and survival exercises. You should have been playing with friends and getting fussed over by your parents when you scrapped your knees. You should never have had to become spartans."
Min was silent for quite a while, plunging the room into a thick quiet.
"Thank you, sir."
Min stood up, adopting a military salute.
"You gave us all a choice. You didn't force us into anything. I'm saying here what each and every one of us would say in the same situation. We made choices. You told us what they were. You were honest and clear with everything from the beginning. Maybe we shouldn't have had to make the choices we did, maybe we shouldn't have said yes. Maybe we weren't capable of understanding the consequences. But that's not on you. You gave us a choice, and we all made it. Every single one of us chose to become Spartans. We wanted payback. I still do.
Thank you for everything sir. It wasn't fair what happened to us. I understand that, but nothing that happened during the war was fair. Nothing that happened should have happened, but you still tried to do right by us, and I know that every single one of us appreciated it. Just like I know that we all still appreciate what you want to do for us."
Min dropped his salute.
"My formal discharge order is processed and approved sir. As of today, Spartan-III Min-B174 is officially retired. Min B Jung, Civilian number 84916-174-SBC9352, requesting permission to leave."
Kurt smiled, snapping into a salute of his own before dropping it.
"Permission granted. It's been an honour soldier."
"Likewise, sir."
Kurt smiled as Min beat a steady exit from his office. As the door slid shut, Kurt circled back across his desk. Pressing a button on his holo-table he called up one of his crew.
"Chief Petty Officer Mendez, please report to the captain's quarters immediately."
Sending on the message, Kurt reached out to the wall of his office. Hidden in the dull grey seams Kurt saw the small palm scanner keyed to his handprint. The sound of gears turning as he put his hand in place revealed a hidden safe built into the wall. Inside were a few key mementoes. Things that Kurt didn't trust to leave his direct access. Inside rested a formal set of his captain's bars, the ones given to him by Admiral Hood, next to it was the rescue beacon for his old Mk IV Mjolnir armour. However, the thing that Kurt pulled from the safe was neither of those things, nor any of the other pieces that were secured inside the safe. Instead, he pulled out a bottle from the back of the safe. Inside was a clear liquid with the slightest tint of blue colouring. Plastered on the bottle was a simple label.
'100% Authentic Reach Distilled Spirytus Vodka'
It had been a gift from Mendez, who had joked that the bottle might be the only thing with a high enough alcohol content to actually get spartans drunk. It was meant to be a celebratory drink, meant for the end of the war if they survived long enough to see it through. Now though, with the possibility of returning so slim and facing the reality of his children officially discharging, Kurt pondered whether or not this could count.
It wasn't five minutes later that the door to his office slid open and Franklin Mendez stepped into the room. Kurt sat at his desk. The bottle on the table with two glasses on either side.
"You think that's a good idea sir?"
"No sirs chief, this isn't an official talk."
Mendez walked over, taking the same seat that Min had sat on not that long ago.
"You want me not to call you sir, you stop with the 'chief' shit."
"Deal."
Franklin took the bottle, looking over it.
"You think this is the right time?"
"We promised we'd open it when the war was over."
"It ain't over yet Kurt."
"It is for us. You saw the estimates, we're not getting back in time…"
The room became sombre as silence grew.
"It's finished Franklin. We're finished… Min came in. He's discharged. Civilian ID number and everything. He's taking over the valley up north, close to Outpost Gamma."
"He'll do fine. He's got fabricator time reserved and plans drawn up. We taught 'em to be prepared."
Mendez popped the cork out of the bottle with only the faintest noise. Kurt watched as he poured.
The two men picked up their glasses, clinking them together in a silent toast.
"And what about the rest? How many of them will adapt like Min has? Can you see Rosenda settling down? What about Arata, or Soren?"
"No, no I can't, but we'll figure it out. They'll find something. We'll help 'em."
Kurt sighed, looking down at the liquid before swirling it slightly in the glass.
"I know. We need to. We owe it to them to help them figure out what they want to be."
He smiled at his old drill instructor.
"And maybe this planet is just what we needed."
He pulled up one of the readouts, downing his glass and pouring himself another. The air began to twinge with the scent of alcohol as showed Mendez a file.
"Whole sections of this planet, utterly backwards. There's so much for us to fix, and I don't think just occupying it all with armies is going to cut it. We need leaders, people to help build communities and help with progress."
A highlighted map of Westeros and Essos appeared.
"Rampant feudalism here in the west, and we've only just taken the first bite out of the slavery systems in the east. I've assigned half of Beta Company to patrol the inland borders and I have at least half of both Alpha and Gamma Companies on standby as rapid response to naval attacks. There's already been seven riots and over nine-hundred different attempts to undermine UNSC authority in just Myr alone. At least seventeen attempts have been made to inconvenience, assault, injure or kill UNSC and UEG personnel across the three major cities by both local insurgence and foreign actors."
A picture appeared of a man, or at least Mendez through at first glance it was a man. They had the face for it, but then he looked down and saw that the body seemed to be some form of near hermaphroditic cross between the sexes.
"We've even had two incidents of these 'Faceless Men'. A delegate from Bravos explained them, and we're still not sure how any of this is possible. The second attempt came dangerously close to success, and we almost lost one the crew who volunteered as an intermittent treasurer in Tyrosh. Even if we have dialled down UNSC power and installed a colonial government, every one of our spartans is going to be very busy for the foreseeable future."
Mendez nodded.
"So, we'll have time at least."
Kurt nodded.
"Time, experience, and hopefully, proximity to normality will give our spartans something to aspire to, or at least something to find contentment in when they finally leave."
"So, that's the plan? Infect them with feelings for the poor savages who they're teaching civilisation to? Maybe some kind of Stockholm syndrome or Lima syndrome to grease the wheels."
"You make it sound worse than it is chief. I want my kids to find things in life, things beyond killing Xenos and insurrectionists. If that means I have to give them an entire civilisation as a puppy to adopt, I'll do it. Look how well it turned out with Jane and Rhaella."
"That wasn't intentional. She made Jane soft all on her own. You can't just shove a bunch of confused savages at them and hope they find a pet."
Kurt downed his glass again, looking down at the crib set out beside him where Daenerys slept peacefully.
"Even if it doesn't work, there's a whole planet out there. Eventually they'll find something, and when they do, I'll be there to help them. I owe that much to them, to every single one of them."
He looked at the grizzled CO.
"And even if you don't like it, you owe it to me to help, if not to them."
Mendez smirked.
"Never said I wouldn't help you Kurt, just tellin' you that if you expect me to be some soppy yes man, bawling over every hobby or stray one of ours brings in from the cold, you picked the wrong man."
Kurt chuckled; his smile wider than normal as the alcohol began to filter through his biologically enhanced liver.
"And I'd never want you to be that. I need someone who knows them as well as I do. We have a real chance here chief. It's a shitty hand we've been dealt, but the flops not out yet and if we're careful we can salvage it."
"Never took you for a poker player sir."
Kurt shrugged.
"I've gambled enough when we were dealing with ONI and Ackerson, and we've all got to get a hobby now that we're stuck here for good."
"You not gonna whittle like Jane does?"
"Jane's whittling, Adam and Min are building, Hazel's talking about raiding the Citadel for books and exploring the ruins of Valyria with Pratibha, Daiyu and Zoe."
"God help us all, they're learning."
The two men chuckled, clinking glasses again and Kurt felt the pleasant burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. He wasn't sure if the drink was working, but sitting in his office, sharing a moment with the man who had raised him in the corps, the drink didn't just taste like expensive poison.
It tasted like the future, and it tasted like hope.
So, I was trying to write the next chapter for the longest time and after rereading this chapter and the reviews I realised that I just didn't like the way it was going. The emotional breakdown for Kurt wasn't necessarily bad, but it just didn't meld well with my future plans and so I scrapped it. Instead, I've taken a more hopeful approach, which I think suits the character and story more.
Now don't get me wrong, some of the emotions from the deleted confrontation are still there, but now less prominent because where previously I realised I was just trying to make conflict, I'm removing what I feel is really artificial and replacing it with something more real. The next few chapters will focus on The spartans as a whole. Beware as there will be povs from OC spartans since the IIIs were never expanded much in terms of canon rosters. While we will still see the canon spartans like Wolfpack, Foxtrot, Saber and more, we will be largely focusing on how they interact with the Westerosi and Essosi as time goes on.
The previous chapters have glossed over UNSC rule of the three daughters, but that was largely so I could focus on Kurt and Rhaella and the wedding, now that that's done we can go back to that, as well as to the new Min plot in the north, and new plots for other spartans.
Bonus points, I don't have to resolve a stupid conflict between Kurt and Rhaella and can have them actually live in their version of marital bliss, which in this case is Rhaella becoming Westeros' first licensed driver and Viserys becoming the Westerosi Michelangelo while Daenerys gets an actual family. Everybody wins.