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This Is What We Get For Trust
Posted By: Rtas Vadumee<Yeahyou84@yahoo.com>
Date: 4 August 2009, 2:12 am
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Okay, first off. 1, Yes, the first chapter did consist of Half-Jaw yelling then an explosion. I was in a really bad mood. Ex issues. I wanted explosions. 2, It took place as the Great Schism (End of Halo 2) was going on seeing as the elites hadn't dropped the Covenant "ee" suffix yet. 3, He wasn't praying to Human gods. This one, I plan on focusing more on story and devoloping.
___________________________________________________________
Ship Master Rtas 'Vudamee, better known as Half-Jaw, sat in his chair looking at the damage reports flickering and moving across his view screen. A dim purple light was being emited from the transparent and holographic yet touchable pad. He let out an almost inaudable huff as he read.
"Damge Report:
//Engines 1-4: Critical damage.
//Heated Plasma Cannons: Starboard Cannons: Offline.
//Power Supply: Engine Power: Offline.
***
//Slipspace Drive: Offline.
*****((1/4 of crew lost. 2/4 wounded beyond current help.))
Total Ship Status: Critical Damage. Suggest search and rescue team and/or dispersing escape pods."
"We may have won this battle, but the parasite is getting far more advanced than we thought," he whispered to himself, "I never thought I'd see the day when the survival of my race.. Even my survival, would depend on the Humans. The Prophets lies clouded all of our minds. We had no reason to fight the Humans. They are like us in many ways, even though they be as weak and small as they are.."
A comm channel opened up to display a large hologram of a Marine in Fatigues instead of a uniform. She spoke. Her voice was soothing to the large Alien, "Ship Master, it will be at least a few hours until we can attempt to get to you. It seems your Brute buddies wanted to have a picnic with us. We stomped 'em like ants, but we suffered a few too. One being the last 2 Pelicans we have, being the ones we planed to get your crew with. How long do you think you can last?"
"I'd say half a day if we all go into minimal activity. But we have many wounded and dying like this would be very dishonorable to their clans. So I would say around 5 of your hours," Half Jaw said with a grim accord at the damage a simple parasite had done to his men, and even him. He was shaken from the battle, his mind starting to fray as he realized what was wrong in his existance. He did respect and honor the Humans, but there were some who he could not stand. Especially ones who try to overide his orders; even more so when the Human was in his presence doing it. He didn't even hear the girl talking in the background. He pressed his half-jawed face into his large hands and thought.
The Prophets promised him freedom from a doomed existance, but they only led him to almost destroying everyone and everything. They promised him honor and peace, but they gave him shame and war. He began to worry about the Arbiter. He was the closet thing he ever had to a real friend. He always just had his brothers-in-batlle, but the Arbiter was different. He was simmilar to him in some ways, but still so different. But above it all, he felt sympathy for him. Being falsely accused of Heracy and the destruction of what they believed was a relic of salvation, burned by the Mark of Shame at the hands of a Brute, sent on a suicide mission, captured by the Gravemind, and was the first to make a peaceful connection with the Humans. His poor soul and mind had gone through more in less than 5 years, than any Elite has ever experienced in one lifetime.
"Ship Master? Ship Master," the girl began yelling, snapping the commander out of his trance.
"S.. Sorry. We will be preparing for your arrival" He snapped off the channel and walked off to help prepare for the Human transports. He looked over his shoulder at a hologram of a brute in the room. Within in a split second, he activated his sword, threw it, and stuck it in the center of the beast's head. (Held up by a gravity feild around it.)
"The more I think about it... The more I wonder why our ancestors, no matter how desperate, decided to side with the San 'Shyumm.. They did nothing but start a war with us and destroy our Forerunner relics and.." A huge thump that rattled the bridge cut off his speech. He opened up a comm channel to his repair crew outside, "What exactly WAS that??"
"Sir," a concerned sounding Elite relied slowly as if unsure what to say, "You just have to come see.. It's a.. A little bit hard to explain.. And, believe."
The commander donned a space suit and went to where the crash area was. Under his suit's mask, his eyes widened and his jaws were agape in surprise, fear, and pure shock. For what he stood staring at was a fully armoured Spartan II in the old Mark V armour. The green plating glowed an ominous sickly green in the pale star light. The Spartan's head shifted to the side and went back to being motionless.
"Get him inside NOW!"
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