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The Fall of the Covenant Empire: If You Hate it, You Love it
Posted By: gruntyking117<sgt_johnson117@yahoo.com>
Date: 3 October 2005, 2:49 am
Read/Post Comments
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Barter's Call, Deck, 0100 hours, preparing to tractor in Pelicen 24503.
Korma looked on at the deck. It was one of the few places that wasn't decorated by Overian design. Now that he looked at it, he hated it. Too bland. Too simple. He sighed. A group of soldiers looked on, weapons ready. They were hiding behind a large stack of crates. If it was a trap, they had to be prepared for battle.
"How's it goin' kids?" Korma looked on, they were ODST's. Oh how he hated their asses. Tough as hell, and stubborn as it too.
"I said: How's it going, kids?" One turned his head left, nodded, and reurned his gaze beyond the crates they were behind. Korma shook his head slowly.
"I guess you fuckers are okay, then." Korma turned around and walked passed a large deck that sprouted out of the middle. Gunners were nested up on the rusted deck.
"How 'bout you boys?" He looked up and waved at them with his left hand. In his right was his trusted BR55 Battle Rifle. One Marine stared down at him, disengaging his turret.
"We're fine, Sarge." Korma looked up at the soldier. Statton, Gregory, Corporal. Almost like a brother to him. They were friends since the time thay enlisted. Few friendships lasted throughout the war, but those that did, were strengthened.
"Good, fine. Keep up the good work, Statton." Korma said that and turned left, towards the under deck. Hazu was working on a piece of Covenant technology he found drifting aloft from a recent battle. He had found alot of it since their arrival, and it was being drifted in as much as possible, to warm up the tractoring system for Pelican 24503's docking.
"Huh. I gotta name for you now, split-chin." He stared at the Elite, who seemingly paid little attention.
"Is that so Human?" Hazu said that without diverting his vision from the hunk of burnt-violet metal. He had a pair of laser-cutting tools in his hands, seemingly amputating the blackened pieces. Korma twitched, and his eyes sharply glared.
"Yeah, I'm gonna call you Gearhead." The Elite's tools stopped cutting. He looked up from his hunched view.
"Gearhead?" The Elite asked. Korma smirked.
"Yeah...Gearhead. Heh. Whaddya think?" Hazu sighed and looked down at his work, returned to it, but his eyes stared at his side.
"That's fine. I almost have a Covenant Slipspace system ready for fitting onto this ship. Soon, I'll be able to fit the weapons that Grunt is working on as well." Korma was taken back. The Elite never responded so calmly or as it seemed friendly. Korma stared. He really was twitching this time.
"You feeling okay, Gearhead?" The Elite let out what sounded like a chuckle. An evil, xenophonic chuckle, but still, a chuckle.
"Never felt better. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. A quote I overheard many a time through through Human encryption codes. I only reflected upon this recently, ape." He let out a laugh again. Korma was shakihng now.
"Those fumes are doin' something to ya, get some fresh air." Hazu just returned to his work.
Korma looked at groups of soldiers that were fitting more Covenant upgrades on the deck. On the exterior of the ship, jetpack infused Elites and engineers continued their work on the hull, starboard, rear and other areas of the ship. Korma headed torward th bridge. He needed a drink.
Pelican 24503, Rear, Preparing to dock on the Barter's Call.
Talime dreamt. She remembered an event from many years ago. Blur was around the sides of vision, signifying a dream. Her Father was yelling at her for some reason, she ran. Too slow. She was young. Six years old, the most. She heard gunshots and a scream as she hid under the flight of stairs in the basement of her home. She saw the Elite. It looked at her. Tears streamed down her eyes. Blood covered her. Her Mother's blood. The Elite activated it its Energy Sword. She fell into the fetal position.
"Leave me alone!" Talime screamed at the monster. She grabbed a knife she found and jabbed into its skin, and returned to her fetal state. The Elite cocked its head, and the sounds of metal plates of its armor near silently shifted. Blood streamed from it. The Elite let out a small growl and sliced into her neck a small marking. The Mark of a Warrior yet to Come.
"Hudaki!" it yelled, becoming less deep. "
"Hudaki!" Her eyes opened. Hewett. She rubbed her eys and groaned. "What the hell, Corporal?" Hewett stared on, but got up. Why, exactly, was he blushing? Her coat was unbuttoned. She shook her head.
"Mam, uh, we're preparing to board a Human vessel." Talime got back to buisness.
"Name, Hewett?" The Corporal stared down.
"That ship gotta name, Hewett?" She asked, more threatingly.
"Barter's Call,mam." She sighed and stretched.
"Thank you. Finally. Maybe we'll get some food or a shower or something." Hewett was left at that thought. Talime got up and headed to the exit of the Pelican. Nessu looked on with Xheyxaw, the group of Elites, a pair of Hunters and 15 grunts. Ten Marines looked on with about five ODST's.
"The Barter's Call..." Talime whispered to herself.
Barter's Call, Docks.
Hazu looked at the Pelican. He couldn't wait to fix that up. He never learned about his profound joy of tinkering and modifying equipment until recently. It slowly was being pulled in. The shimmering shields that Hazu put up let down for a few seconds. The Pelican pulled in. A rough assortment of Humans and Covenant waited in the large beast of a transport. They got out, slowly, GHumans first Elites next, Grunts after that, and finally, the Hunter pair. A loud pop echoed throughout the deck. Champagne.
"Come on guys, I have enough for all of ya!" It was Korma, laughing. The Humans walked up to the Sergeant, preparing to get some of the wine. Hazu simply nodded his head, under the deck where he worked was a large, hovering table filled with Narmi squid. Talime looked over at that table. She headed over there. She stared at it, and pointed her finger at it.
"This stuff safe for Humans?" She asked. Hazu and everyone stared at her. Hazu spoke in a clear, direct tone.
"Yes!" He let out one of his laughs and the others stopped staring and began to eat.
Nessu picked up a plate with Pilka Fish, Narmi wine, and Grajo'n Bird. As he passed by the redhead soldier who had almost apparently been cultured by Covenant tastes, he noticed a scar on her neck. What is that...The Warrior template?! How did she recieve that!? Nessu thought. He would speak to her later.
Barter's Call, 0300 Hours.
After her meal, Talime had felt tired. They know how to eat. She thought. She was amazed no other Humans tried to eat the Narmi. Tasty. She walked through a door and it read: Showers.
"Ah, finally!" She walked into the room. She dropped peeled off coat and dropped the rest of suit. She took the clothes over to a washer, removing the badges, and took another size matching suit. She placed it on a bench and grabbed a towel from off the rack. She placed it onto the steel stall. She turned on the water. The node read: Hot. It splashed onto her body. Steam formed on the walls. She grabbed the soap and lathered herself. A pain shot through neck. The scar. Again. She moaned, and she almost lost her balance. Talime clenched her eyes shut,and panted. What the hell is going on!? She thought. Talime scratched against the stall and cried. A droning noise began to emit somewhere and it buzzed around Talime.
"Ungh..." It stopped. All she heard was the hot water splashing on her. She was shaking too. She got up and simply tried to forget it. She grabbed the generic shampoo and poured onto her head.
"What the hell?" She just said that and banished it from the night. After her shower she walked oit of the stall, dripping.
"What happened to that towel?" She asked herself. the lights were dim, which was strange, even for older ships. She saw the towel, and bent over to reach it. She had a slim body and long legs. She was also well toned. She wrapped herself up in the towel and went over to the lockers. She saw an empty locker. She had nothing. Not even a hair brush. She went over to a tag tempering computer. It made locker name tags, listed towels and washes, and had a security system.
"Tag for Sergeant, Talime, Hudaki, please."
The pain buzzed around her, but never actually penetrated to her skull. She shook her head quickly and it left.
"Name tag: complete. Thank you, Miss Hudaki." She took it into her hand, warm. She walked back to the locker and fixed it onto a latch that was meant for names. She looked around and thought.
Why isn't anyone coming in? She sighed. Clean clothes were pressed and placed into her locker. Great. She grabbed the olive drab pants and a rather small grey shirt from the locker. The pain buzzed again. She left the shower room.
"Time to head the cryo room.
She only had the towel on, but she carried the clothes. The decorative halls of red and black and gold appealed to Talime. Maybe it was because she had a small part Overian in her. The next room read: Cyro Room. She headed into the room. An icy mist hovered on the floor. The floor was frozen. Talime walked towards the Cryo tube and dropped her towel. Several other soldiers already were in the tubes. Hewett walked in and stopped. He stared. Talime put one leg in, and shivered. Her left leg pulled in next and she sat down slowly.
"Damn, I forgot how cold this shit is!" She shook her head wildly to let her hair free. Talime layed into the tube, and she felt the buzz, for little bit longer.
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