Chapter Text
Project overgrad takes place after both the first covenant war and the 5 year peacetime following it. After peace was decided among alien species like Brutes, the Sangheili, and many other sapient species to keep peace throughout the universe, this quickly went downhill as the war started back up again. Devoted covenant followers split off into several different factions to attempt to disturb the peace, believing that the many beings who desired peace were not deserving of it because they gave mercy to those on the enemy covenant side who were left alive, giving them a second chance to live and integrate on peaceful planets.
The project was started at the beginning of the war to assist battle technique integration from human spartans to sangheili spartans, and vice versa, but evolved as more of a team building/training exercise project along with the assist battle technique “class”.
Project overgrad has around 1500 human spartans, both from post covenant war retirees, and new spartans, created ethically both during and after the initial peacetime.
Project overgrad students arent intended to fight on the battlefield until their training is complete using a quota hour system along with team building exercises.
And these spartans you will read about soon, arent even ready for whats going to hit them.
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[Camera pans over several hundred spartans, talking at lunch tables, going over equipment, and generally being distracted]
[Camera cuts to the busy pelican dock, spartans moving supply crates into said pelicans, a group of spartans were sat on small crates surrounding a larger crate, using as some sort of table.
They were playing black jack- or some sort of card game, you cant really tell, but one of them gets absolutely pissed, slamming the cards that were once in his hand down onto the large crate-table-thing, flipping it onto another spartan.
A few coins fly along with the crate and scatter across the concrete of the pelican landing. The man storms off and the others that were at the table quickly helped the other spartan out from under the crate]
HARVARD, WALKING UP TO OXFORD, ABOUT TO GIVE HIM A QUICK LECTURE, STARTING IN A SHOUT:
“What on earth?! Get a move on, OXFORD !”
OXFORD, SITTING ON WHAT LOOKS LIKE A THRONE OF CRATES, SITTING ON ONE AND LEANING ON THE OTHER BEHIND HIM, BOOK IN HAND, VERY RELAXED. OXFORD LOOKS OVER TO HARVARD, UNBOTHERED:
“Oh, hey MASON , what are you doing out here this early? I thought you'd be here at 9?”
HARVARD, QUICKLY STIFFENING HIS STRIDE, WALKING UP TO OXFORD AND GIVING HIM A SWIFT TAP ON THE BACK OF THE HEAD:
“It's right on the brisk of 0900! Get a move on I said-”
OXFORD, HEAD NOW LOOKING DOWN AT THE BOOK IN HIS LAP:
“ow- okay, I'll start it now, No need to get physical, MASON , I'll put the crates into the pelican”
HARVARD, CLEARLY UPSET:
“You are in violation of an unspoken rule- please do not call me by my first name, it is inappropriate- and that isn't even the point I'm making”
OXFORD, PICKING UP TWO CRATES AND WALKING INTO THE PELICAN, BOOK ON TOP OF ONE OF THEM. HE SOUNDED GENUINE WITH HIS QUESTION:
“what is the point youre making, HARVARD ?”
HARVARD SCOFFED, AS IF IN DISBELIEF THAT OXFORD COULDNT READ HIS MIND:
"We have a VERY strict schedule given to us by our superiors, I cant believe you wont even consider how important this is”
OXFORD LAUGHED A LITTLE, AND SPOKE UNDER HIS BREATH AS HE CARRIED THE HEAVY CRATES INTO THE PELICAN AND SET THEM DOWN WITH EASE:
“ha, of course I considered It, I was just taking a break from moving the crates in,”
[HARVARD STOOD AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE PELICAN'S DOCK, AN UPSET LOOK ON HIS FACE THAT COULD BE FELT THROUGH HIS YELLOW VISOR]
OXFORD CONTINUED:
“Plus, i don't really See the point in rushing all of this,,, like, rushing… worrying so much-”
HARVARD, NOW EVEN MORE DISTRAUGHT, BEGAN STUMBLING OVER HIS WORDS, BAFFLED HE WOULD EVEN SUGGEST SUCH A THING:
“don't see the point in worrying?! We are in the beginning of a war! Everything we prepare must be perfect- you cant– you MUSTN'T be serious!”
YALE, CREEPING UP BEHIND HARVARD WAS UNNOTICED, UNTIL HE SPRUNG UP AND COVERED HARVARD'S VISOR WITH ONE HAND, AND PLACING THE OTHER ON HIS SHOULDER:
“Mr rule follower,-short tempered-MLA citation headass-”
[HARVARD, WITH A SHRIEK, QUICKLY TURNED AROUND AND PUNCHED THE (somewhat) INNOCENT YALE SQUARE IN THE VISOR]
YALE IS LAUNCHED FROM THE SHEER FORCE, THE GLASS OF HIS VISOR WAS SURPRISINGLY LEFT WITH ONLY A CRACK THAT LIT UP BRIGHT ON IMPACT. HE LANDED DIRECTLY ON HIS ASS WITH A YELP:
“Ouch!! Asshole! I was just messing with you- did i hit a nerve or something?”
HARVARD GASPED ONCE HE REALIZED WHO HE JUST PUNCHED AND SWIFTLY BEGAN HELPING HIM UP:
“You absolute numpty! Why did you scare me like that? Dust yourself off now, we’ll be late because of OXFORD here, forgetting to load the crates”
YALE, AFTER BEING HELPED UP BY HARVARD, WAS VISUALLY UPSET. HIS QUEER STANCE REFLECTING THAT:
“Hey smarty pants, i think YOU were the one who punched ME”
[OXFORD, TIRED OF LISTENING TO THEIR BANTER, WALKED OFF, LOADED THE REST OF THE CRATES INTO THE PELICAN, AND WAITED FOR THE TWO TO FOLLOW.]
HARVARD SNAPPED BACK:
“Well, if it werent for you sneaking up on
OXFORD
and I-”
[HARVARD LOOKED BACK TO WHERE OXFORD WAS STANDING, FLINCHING AT THE LACK OF HIS PRESENCE]
HARVARD CONTINUED:
“Look now, you've scared him away.”
YALE, LOOKING AROUND THE PELICAN LANDING SITE, BODY STATIONARY, CONFUSED:
“Where the hell did he even go? He was literally just right there…”
[A LOUD BUZZER CALLED ATTENTION TO THE LARGE SPEAKERS EMBEDDED IN THE WALLS OF THE FACILITY, REVERBING IN THE LARGE FLAT AREA OF THE BASE]
ANNOUNCER, IN A NEUTRAL, FEMININE VOICE:
“Good morning, Spartans, today it is September 7th, 2558, the current time is 900 hours, the temperature is around 35 degrees fahrenheit. Good luck on your journey to your respective planets. If you are having trouble finding what planet you are assigned to, your pelican will autopilot to your destination, but please do not rely on the pelican navigating system for travel. Good luck spartans, happy hunting.”
YALE’S JAW DROPPED AT THE ANNOUNCEMENT:
“Shit, we’re about to leave, and we have lost the dumbest guy on our team because we didnt leash him before fighting.”
HARVARD, UNAMUSED:
“Is it too late to put a kettle on?”
YALE, CONFUSED:
“What? Are you eighty?”
HARVARD, OFFENDED:
“What?”
YALE, DOUBLING DOWN:
“Are you EIGHTY? A kettle on? Need your afternoon brew, old man?”
HARVARD, SIGHING AS HE WALKS OFF:
“We need to find OXFORD before our fleet takes off without us, let's make it quick”
[THE TWO WALKED OFF FROM THE PELICAN LANDING ZONE, ENTERING THE CONVENTION-LIKE, ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE MILITARY BASE]
[IT LOOKS TO BE IN THE MIDDLE OF BEING PACKED UP, SEVERAL SPARTANS ON THE INSIDE ARE BEING BRIEFED, WAITING FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTION FROM THEIR SUPERIORS (WHO WERE VASTLY INTIMIDATING BY THE WAY, WHO THE HELL JUST STANDS THERE LIKE A CREEP, UNMOVING, AT LEAST GIVE A FEW SIGNS TO SHOW THAT YOU ARE LIVING), STANDING UP AGAINST A WALL, LOOKING DOWN AT THEIR SOLDIERS]
[DO YOU THINK THEY KNOW THEY'RE BEING LED TO THEIR DEATH?]
YALE, SHOUTING IN THE NOISY–WHAT LOOKS TO BE–MESS HALL:
“ OXFORRRRDD !!!”
YALE TURNS TO A UNSC SOLDIER:
“Hey you, have you seen my friend OXFORD ?”
UNSC SOLDIER:
“I uh-”
YALE INTERRUPTS, HOLDING HIS HAND HIGH ABOVE HIS HEAD, CLEARLY BLUFFING:
“He’s about thiiis tall, green, pink boots and gloves,, and holds his sniper rifle all the ti-”
HARVARD GRABS THE BACK OF HIS MJOLNIR, GRIPPING ON THE COVER OF ONE OF HIS COLD COMPACT FUSION REACTORS AND PULLING HIM BACK:
“Please forgive him, he's a nonce-”
YALE, FUSSING:
“HEY! I was just about to potentially find where our teammate is, asshat– can you let go??”
HARVARD IGNORED HIM, WALKING UP TO THE MAIN REGISTRATION DESK, DRAGGING YALE ALONG WITH HIM, IGNORING HIS STRUGGLE:
“Hey love-”
HARVARD, READING THE NAME PLAQUE ON THE DESK, QUICKLY CORRECTING HIMSELF:
“-
CHARLOTTE
– can you send out an announcement for me? I lost one of my crew and our fleet is leaving soon.”
DESK LADY (CHARLOTTE), TRYING NOT TO LOOK AT THE SCRUFFED YALE:
“Yes of course, any specifics on the announcement?”
HARVARD :
“Yes, yes, could you tell OXFORD to report to his assigned pelican?”
CHARLOTTE, WITH A CHUCKLE:
“Yes of course, happy hunting, HARVARD ”
YALE WIGGLED OUT OF HARVARD’S GRASP, THAT HAS GONE A LITTLE LIMP AFTER HEARING SUCH A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN SAY HIS DESIGNATION:
“Alright then, Macy, let's ‘get a move on’.”
[YALE PUSHED THE STATUE OF STONE THAT IS HARVARD AWAY FROM THE REGISTRATION DESK, TOWARDS THE PELICAN TAKEOFF SITE]
ANNOUNCER, IN A NEUTRAL, FEMININE VOICE:
“OXFORD, please return to your pelican for a late liftoff, your commander, HARVARD, and fleet, are waiting for you at the pelican takeoff site.”
HARVARD, SCOFFING:
“Well, at least someone is useful on this site.”
YALE, HITTING HIM ON THE HELMET:
“Shut up, youre being ungrateful-”
[A LOUD, HUSKY VOICE RANG IN THEIR DIRECTION AS THEY STEPPED INTO THE LAUNCH ZONE]
“SARGENT HARVARD! WHERE IS THE REST OF YOUR MEN? ID TAKE YOU FOR A DICK-SUCKING SLACKER IF I DIDNT KNOW YOUR HISTORY!”
YALE AND HARVARD, UNDER THEIR BREATH, IN A PANIC:
“COMMANDER OVERGRAD…!”
HARVARD STUTTERED, SHAKING IN HIS POOR POOR BOOTS:
“Ah-hah- sir! Fancy seeing you here…sir………..”
COMMANDER OVERGRAD, STILL AT A FULL ON YELL:
“WE ARE FIFTEEN MINUTES LATE TO TAKEOFF? WHAT IS YOUR EXCUSE TO BEING LATE, SARGENT? OR ARE YOU JUST GOING TO PISS YOUR SUIT AND SHAKE LIKE A LEAF JUST SITTIN’ THERE?”
[YALE HAS ALREADY RAN OFF TO THE SHUTTLE]
YALE, WALKING ONTO THE REAR RAMP OF THE PELICAN, NOTICING OXFORD INSIDE:
“Oh, hey OXFORD , were you here the entire time?”
OXFORD, SITTING IN THE PASSENGER SEAT IN THE COCKPIT, ONE LEG OVER THE OTHER WITH HIS BOOK IN HAND:
“Hi
YALE
, I’ve been here the entire time, yeah. Where were you guys? We were supposed to take off about 15 minutes ago.”
YALE, LOOKING BEHIND HIM AS HE ENTERED THE PELICAN, HE GETS A GLIMPSE OF HARVARD GETTING ABSOLUTELY CHEWED OUT BY COMMANDER OVERGRAD:
“Actually.. Im not quite sure”
[YALE LAUGHED, HAPPY TO NOT BE FULLY INVOLVED IN THE ASS-CHEWING OF A LIFETIME]
[OXFORD IS INNOCENTLY READING HIS BOOK]
[HARVARD(VICTIM OF ASS-CHEWING) IS COWERING ON THE GROUND, BEING HOVERED OVER BY COMMANDER OVERGRAD]