It was his turn, Spartan B312's turn for augmentation. The project had had no casualties so far but he was still nervous. He had heard many of the medical officers mention his tag and name at least seven times, he knew that because he had been counting, nerves tended to have that effect on people, even Spartans.

….

Senior Medical officer Frank Silverman reviewed this candidate, as he did with all the previous candidates, "Candidate B312, Blood type O positive." "Good" he thought at least the candidate had an easily replaceable blood type, if anything were to go wrong. "Everything checks out" he said to a man, whom he had never seen before. Frank had to admit, he was nervous no one had ever overseen the Spartan III project before, well other than himself and the medical staff. Frank shifted in his seat. The Man wore a dark grey suit, his hair was combed back, black and greying, his face was ageless however. "B312" the man spoke with a gruff and slight southern accent. He is to have double the dose of the normal Spartan III augmentation serum, is that understood?" Frank was unnerved by this, he rubbed his neck. "With all due respect, sir," Sir seemed appropriate as he did not know who this man was nor his purpose hear and judging by the suit, Frank assumed the man was of authority, "the double dose would have a higher risk of killing the subject and even were he to survive he would not benefit anymore than other candidates." The spook kept his laser like focus on the operating table and simply replied with "Do as I say Silverman."

…

The Spartan candidate walked into the operating room. A mess of robotic arms and cold steel surrounded him. He took a deep breath and sighed before walking over to the operating table. He was given a card to place into the machine to begin the augmentation. He twiddled it in his hands and put it next to him and stared at ceiling for a while, was he scared? Spartans weren't meant to be afraid he thought. He picked up the card again and placed it into the slot to begin the procedure. The mechanical arms sprung to life needles and drills to. The objects got closer to Spartan B312's skin and he tensed up and his heart began to beat faster, ready for them to penetrate his skin, he gulped and took in a deep breath again as the needles and drill penetrated deep into muscle and bone. He tensed again but this time he was elevated his muscles had instantly developed from the serum, but his heart still beated fast; something was not right – his heart now palpitating so fast he could almost see it through his chest, his breathing now rapidly increased to compensate but it was too much the Spartan blacked out.

…

Frank put the candidate into to a Cryo-tube, standard procedure to deceased candidates in hope for revival at a later date the spook had told him. The spook, what an arsehole thought frank; he told him it would be too much all the spook said was that he was a "1.1" whatever that meant and that he needed this boost. "Dammit" he thought; all the candidates were done and only B312 was the only casualty he looked to the tube about to press in the sequence for a long sleep for 312, "poor kid." He whispered to himself.

…

The Spartan awoke in a tube dazed he pulled the emergency release lever, he realised he was in a Cryo-tube, he coughed up the special jelly-like substance that helped to preserve minerals that would have been previously lost in sleep, but why a tube the Spartan thought, last thing he remembered was him blacking out after the operation. "Ah, Spartan B312 we thought we lost you. Thought you'd be the only wash-out of the programme" The Spartan looked around and saw an aged man in his mid Thirties wearing reading glasses and a white lab coat his hair was black and greying on his lab coat a name tag that read "Senior Medical Officer Frank Silverman." The Spartan stood up "how do you feel?" the man asked. The Spartan looked to the man, now towering over him and simply replied with "Taller."