Accessing ONI database…

Access granted.

Opening UNSC personnel listings.

Opening Spartan personnel listings.

Warning. Access Restricted. Additional Security Clearance Required.

Clearance Granted.

Searching…

Records Found.

[Family Name]: Emiya

[First Name]: Shirou

[Current Age]: 17

[Acquisition Age]: 8

[UNSC division]: Army

[Subdivision]: Special Warfare Group 3

[Rank]: Lieutenant

[Spartan Tag]: Beta-312

[Callsign]: Noble 6

[Status]: Active

[Notable Achievements]:

+ Completed basic training 2 years ahead of schedule

+ Outer colony insurrectionist suppression (details classified Lvl.10, Re-Authorization necessary)

+ Inner colony insurrectionist suppression (details classified Lvl.10, Re-Authorization necessary)

+ SABRE Program participant (details classified Lvl.10, Re-Authorization necessary)

+ Defense of Reach (details classified Lvl.10, Re-Authorization necessary)

+ Initiation of Human-Covenant Separatist alliance

+ Purging of New Mombasa post-flood infestation

+ Elimination of Covenant leadership structure

+ Destruction of all known traces of bio-form infestation code-named Flood

[Anomalies]

+ Accelerated healing:

Though as a side effect of the CHYSANTHENUM program, Generation III Spartans enjoy increased metabolism and subsequently recovered at heightened rates, level 2 injuries are beyond projected self-repair capabilities.

\\Addendum:

CF-58 Nano-machine integration would provide additional tissue repair capabilities, however, subject recovery speeds are still far beyond what was expected.

\\\\Field entry(s):

This is…quite odd to say the least. This boy, Shirou I think he said his name was, came in asking me to look at a little limp. But when I checked his suit's records, it indicated that his leg had taken several hits from a needler, one of which found bone! You don't get away with just a "little limp" when an exploding crystal gets lodged in, then goes off, in your *expletive deleted* Tibia (shin bone)! Well, least that explains why his pants were torn up.

- Dr. Susan Thatcher. May 12, 2550

+ Unusual movement capabilities:

MJOLNIR series power armor enables wearer to run at speeds of up to 65.2mph, doing so for extended periods of time leads to tissue destruction and so is not recommended. Records from the unit issued to B312 show instances where speeds of 90mph were reached for stretches far exceeding the upper safety limits with no ill effects

+ Uncategorized:

There are numerous incidents in which B312 seems to have acquired more munitions than would have been possible due to a combination of suit hard point limitations and general availability.

\\\\Instance:

During evacuation of colony Kappa-912 on Sigma 5, onboard computer records indicate that 194 missiles were launched, after which 48 rounds were fired from a Warthog mounted M68 Gauss cannon.

Extraction team only had a combined total of 150 missiles at the time of entry, including emergency reserves. In addition the computer on the M12 Light Reconnaissance vehicle in question never indicated any weapon changes on planet.

\\\\Field entry(s):

Geez, coulda swore we'd already used up all those thangs 2 hours ago, then all of a sudden I check the supply truck and wuddaya know. Well, Momma always said to ne'er look a gift horse in the mouth so here goes! Infinite Ammo Woohoo!

- Private First Class Leroy Jenkins. July 4, 2551

Changes confirmed

[Status]: Honorable Discharge.

Logging out.

"Great, there goes a multi-billion credit asset"

Margaret O. Parangosky was not a happy woman / director of the most important intelligence gathering organization known to man. B312 had in his career, to put it lightly, become a very valuable piece of work. A very valuable piece of work that she had put in a good bit of effort grooming from the shadows after pulling him from operation: TORPEDO, when he was deemed too valuable to expend. Not that any of this mattered. After all, in the end, orders were orders, and far be it for her to disobey when the person who issued the order was standing right next to her, watching the screen like a parent observing a child who was too clever for her own good.

"Well, I figured since he just saved all sentient life in the galaxy from extinction it would be nice to give him a little thanks."

Locking eyes with the person who was now effectively the de facto ruler of mankind would have been no easy feat for anybody given how imposing the man was, but then again, Margaret was not just anybody.

"Are you seriously going to try to convince me that we wouldn't have been able to use him after the war ended Lord Hood?"

Fleet Admiral Lord Terence Hood pondered his answer for a few seconds before smirking. The two of them had been at each others' throats throughout the entire war, so it was no surprise that arguments such as this one would erupt often. Though at this point both of them already knew how the other was going to respond so discussions would usually devolve to a point where more drastic measures would have to be implemented for either side to gain the upper hand.

"No, I'm not going to try to convince you that back then nobody else could have filled his shoes. Now, however, those shoes aren't as big anymore."

*Staring contest go!

"Your left eye twitched you old fart."

"Trick of the light."

"HAH! YOU BLINKED BASTARD!"

"Trick of the light."

…*sigh*

"This is the part where you pull rank on me isn't it"

Note that this was not a question so questions marks don't apply here.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Margaret's left eye was twitching uncontrollably at this point and if you looked closely enough, you could also see several veins popping out of her forehead. Not that she was completely unjustified in her anger. After all, she only has to deal with a difficult boss under some of the most stressful work conditions in existence.

But even that wasn't the main cause. Though Hood was technically her superior and technically could say 'Imma fleet admiral, obey me,' with the importance of their roles, they were actually more or less on equal footing in the hierarchical food chain. No no, the real reason that Hood would eventually get his way had more to do with a certain video he had taken of a certain Head of Intelligence Operations reading Not Safe for Work Yuri manga in the men's bathroom.

"I see…so you're going to use…that."

"Perhaps." Definitely

"One of these days…"

"Hey, it's not my fault you got so excited about the packet the Intern brought in that you didn't bother to run a background check."

"So then the camera in the bathroom WAS your fault?"

"Of course not, that would be your assistants' fault, and the fault of the million dollar betting pool on whether or not you were a lesbian. Thanks for the new shoes by the way."

At this point the cold collected demeanor of the super duper spy had completely collapsed into that of a hysterical woman who had forgotten to take her anti-psychotic medication.

"FINE! Whatever, Take Him! It's not like I spent almost a decade and god knows how much money turning him into a Perfect Killing machine that would make Jaws look like a kitten! And it's not like I basically promised a small planet to the Mages Association in exchange for turning the brat into a BLEEPING magic reservoir the size of Jupiter! He started out with 27 circuits which could barely do anything, now he has 160, each which might as well be the magic equivalent of a fusion reactor!"

*insert obligatory gasp for air.

"And OF COURSE we didn't blow enough money to build a carrier and its whole strike group to try a nano-machine augmentation procedure that winded up killing the other 199,999 participants. But noooo, Big Ol'Hood said the kid's a human and deserves a normal life. GAAAAAH! Ow ow ouch oooow."

Stress induced headaches are never pretty. Especially if you're not entirely sane in the first place.

"Aspirin?"

"Thank you."

"Would you like a dose of morphine as well?"

"Standard lethal amount won't kill me anymore."

"…so that's where my stash had been going" Hood muttered to himself.

Pulling up an empty chair, the old military man cracked open a bottle of Vodka and filled two shot glasses that had been placed on the table in anticipation.

Task completed, he put on a worn smile. Yup, definitely been around each other for too long.

Downing their drinks, there was a moment of silence while the two contemplated the future that they had now set before the one so instrumental to their survival. Sure they would put in place a very generous fund for living expenses, as well as insist he attend a college of some sort to secure his place in society. He would be well provided for, of that there was no doubt. It was the more…subtle…aspects of civilian life that they were worried about.

Certain things would not come easily…

Well…ok, maybe a lot of things…

Fine! Fine! No need to drag it out, just about everything wouldn't come easy! I mean come on, kid was learning how to throw grenades when he should have been learning how to throw inflatable rubber balls. Normal people collect bottle caps, or coins, he collects covenant weapons! When most children his age were getting ready to take out their first girlfriend in junior high, he was getting ready to take out his first target on a mission in near zero gravity in a defunct mining facility. Though he did learn how to jam tongues down peoples' throats…sharp, 8 inch long titanium carbide coated carbon steel tongues.

Ah, the joys of puberty.

Fact of the matter is, when you have a childhood like that you're bound to be a bit messed up. Proven by several incidents where well meaning marines / ODSTs would try to explain the use of contraceptives while attempting to give the birds and bees talk, only to be met with a blank stare. Hundreds of attempts and an equal number of damaged brains later, word finally got around that "runt can kill you in more ways than your granny knows how to cook up a chicken, but whichever girl falls for 'im is gonna need either Buddha's patience or lifespan if she ever wants to explain that babies don't get carried to mama and papa by storks."

Yes ladies and gentlemen, Shirou Emiya is a complete dunce when it comes to relationships. Which is probably a good thing since several female communication officers and field medics would have been finding ways for their birth control to conveniently fail by now, thereby robbing a certain trio of female magi back on Earth of their shot at him.

But anyway, back to the two most powerful people in the human race.

Letting out a worried sigh, the woman finally spoke. "So you think he'll be alright? This isn't exactly like any mission he's been on before. Social dynamics tend to be a bit different from see, shoot, stab, blowup mechanics that he's used to"

Looking out a window down towards the Earth, Lord Hood thought for a while before responding without hesitation.

"He'll adapt. If nothing else he's adaptable."

"He's simple."

"Survival is of the fittest, oftentimes the simplest of organisms. Isn't that why you sought him out and pulled him from his suicide mission?"

Sighing Margaret followed her companion's line of sight.

"I know, it's just…"

"He's the closest thing to a son you ever had?"

"…Yeah, you're right, I'm probably over-thinking things."


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