All UNSC forces had to regularly take fitness exams. Spartan-IIs had no formal standards, so community goals were often set by the leaders to be done at their relative leisure. Once, Fred had challenged not only blue team, but all the present S-2s to do three hundred push ups, timed. Valkyrie had been aching for days.<br/><br/>That hurt a lot less than laying down a covenant hand grenade. The Spartan had only done it because the thing had been a moment away from detonating, and she hadn't exactly been in a position to dive away. Right now, she though that hurling the elite prick onto the grenade would have probably been a better idea. Murderous rage wasn't her thing, but she felt close to it.<br/><br/>The spartan's hands shook from the huge hit of adrenaline she had experienced, making the everyday act of loading a weapon a struggle. She took a deep, shuddering breath and calmed her frayed nerves. The magazine locked into the rifle with a reassuring clack. Valkyrie turned to face the battlefield and found countless bodies scattered across the road from her combined work. The hatch on the Wraith was open; it's crew had run off. After checking that the immediate area was safe, she started the gradual process of rebooting her coms, visuals and shields.<br/><br/>"Looks like you got most of them. Nice work." Valkyrie started poking through corpses for intel and equipment. She was pretty low on grenades. "Any word from 636?"<br/><br/>