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Truth Behind the Reconciliation: Act I
Posted By: Chief Vash<Chief.Vash@gmail.com>
Date: 15 May 2005, 3:09 AM
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The sweat dripped off the man's bleeding forehead. Inside his helmet was a constant heat haze of molecular activity. His eyes stung from acidic tears dripping slowly into his eyes. The thought of taking off his helmet to wipe them clear, morally angered the Chief. He shifted the pain of his eyes into the back of his head, and mentally destroyed the thoughts. His hands too, were sweaty and clumsy, or so he thought. He had exceptionally high standards of himself, and would never lower them for anyone, not even for his high commanders. Often, he took everything a bit too seriously, which one may think is good and honorable. However the Chief knew that he would one day lose his life to the high expectations of his body. The way he saw it, if he was a robot, he was only at 45% capacity and strength. He would, by the time he was at his last breath, be at 100%, and he knew he would go down fighting.
A vision snapped back into the Chief's mind, and he saw a blurry image of what just occurred. Unsuspectingly, the Chief had walked into a room, pitch black, and seemingly unoccupied. The playback continued as the Chief walked and felt a sturdy surface under his foot. He remembered thinking that there was no way that this surface was a "friendly", so he continued to apply pressure until the surface gave, and the Chief could only imagine the squishy substance beneath his boot. The vision ended. The Chief was there, standing in the middle of the now lit room with a large bright light in the ceiling.
He looked at the battle that he had apparently just missed, and looked at the switch that he had just flipped to turn on the massive light. Bodies lie around him as he eyed the ruins. He looked at what was under his boot and it appeared to have once been a poor Jackal. He wondered if he had ended it's life, or if he had merely crushed a corpse. He brushed off this useless thought, and continued to survey the seemingly empty room. No noise was heard in the room, except for the breathing that the Chief was doing himself. The Chief glared heavily at the room until he was satisfied with his inspection. Just in case however, he picked up a Plasma Pistol and fired three shots into each dead body, just to make sure. He dropped the 3/4 empty Plasma Pistol, and re-equipped his Assault Rifle. He gathered two more Plasma Grenades.
The Chief felt he had spent enough time in this room, so he continued on to the next one. He walked through the door as it automatically slid open for him. In the center of this great large room was a giant platform. The Master Chief quickly hid behind the coverings next to the door so he could not be seen. The giant platform was empty, except for five circular pillars that were surrounding the edges of the platform. The pillars glowed a devilish blue, like many of the Covenant architectural objects. Also on top of the platform, a Gold Elite was walking around surveying the area for intruders. The Chief thought he must have heard him, but put off the thought since the sleeping Grunts were not disturbed. The Chief had learned quickly that the Grunts had superior hearing, or at least when they were sleeping. They were by no means, heavy sleepers. The Grunts were right next to the door, and in the corner some Invisible Elite's were lurking. He could only tell by the unmistakable floating Plasma Swords. He would say that there were at least three of them. So there were three Invis-Elites and one Gold Elite, and six sleeping Grunts next to him. The Chief was ready.
The Chief unhinged a Plasma grenade from his hip belt. He activated it and gave it a good hard throw at the Gold Elite. Mid-flight in the air the Chief ran over to the Grunts. Quickly and efficiently he began to bash the butt of his rifle into their small fragile skulls. The blunt of the force itself could probably crush a car, and these Grunts had a slim to none chance of making it through. Two of the Grunts fell to MC's harsh hits. The Gold Elite took notice and pulled a 180 degree turn only to find a Plasma Grenade in-flight next to his face. Less than a second later it struck his face, Latched on, and the fear surged through his body. The only thing he could do is howl his last war cry ever, as he waited for impending death. The Plasma grenade exploded and the Elite's brain, skull, and head, along with his upper torso were scattered across the platform. Even some brain matter struck the completely bewildered Invis-Elites making them that much easier to spot. The Chief ran over to the rest of the grunts, bashed two more of their heads in, and chased the other ones down with a distinct dislike for mangling his enemy. After the last of them were dead, the chief focused his concentration on the Invis-Elites. The three of them were in the back of the room, more than 50 meters from the Chief. The Chief quickly pulled out his sniper rifle, and focused his aim on the nearest Elite. The Chief noticed the two similar ones that were seemingly lined up, and took his aim away from the nearest Elite to the one that could take out two in one shot. He knew that Elites were tough, much tougher than a single sniper bullet, but these Invis-Elites were not equipped with there regular shielding. They had no shields at all, making them easy to kill. The Chief took a blind aim at the head of the Invis-Elite and hoped the bullet to pass into him and threw the next one. The farthest Invis-Elite from the Chief was hiding behind the other one and seemed a little too sure of himself, and was acting as if he was hiding behind living cover. He growled his war growl as if to be intimidating. The Chief let out one single bullet. The bullet passed right through the soft armor of the first Elite in the line. The bullet had hit is respiratory organs, and passed right on through out the back of him leaving a large volleyball sized hole. The bullet continued into the still growling Elite and into his cranium. It was like passing through butter, as the bullet blew out the other side ripping the head of the Elite apart completely in a mushroom cloud of blood. The bullet found its final resting point in the wall. The first Elite hit in the lungs, double over to his knees and gasped for air. The far Elite's knees completely gave way as his limp body hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. His neck cavity oozed a dark purple blood which now covered the back wall and the surrounding area. Chunks of the Elite's head were scattered around the area.
"Damn" the Chief thought, as he realized his fatal mistake. He should have reloaded his sniper rifle before using it the last time. There was no time to do that now, as the remaining Elite rushed toward him, arms and sword flailing. The Chief dropped his sniper rifle and flung the Assault Rifle back from over his shoulder to his hands, felt the tension of the trigger and took aim at his target. The Elite was much to close and his arm was up as if about to land a fatal blow. The Chief concentrated on the wavering air, but took a quick step back just in time to dodge a downward strike. He knew another upward strike would come immediately after and positioned his Assault Rifle as if to block the blow. The rifle was slashed into two unusable pieces, but slowed the velocity of the Plasma Sword enough for the Chief to be able to dodge it.
The Chief had a quick thought of retreat in his mind. He could just run away, he knew that he was fast; maybe he could run around and grab a Plasma Pistol off of a dead Grunt? No, this is a one on one battle that he could not run away from. He loved a challenge, and was not about to do this the dishonorable way. He knew he could beat the Elite, because the Elite was going to make some sort of mistake soon, and the Chief would be ready when he did.
The Elite decided to play the battle smart and backed one step away. He bent down slowly, yet never took his eyes away from the Chief. He picked up the Sniper Rifle the Chief had just dropped and threw it up into the air. He slashed at it in what seemed like four slashes, and the rifle fell to the ground in seven pieces. "Hmm..." the Chief thought. What a smart thing to do. The Elite gave out what appeared to be a smile. Thinking he had won, the Elite forgot the smarts that had gotten him to this point. He rushed the Chief in a heated blaze of glory. Only one thing could have caused such irrational behavior, the glory of killing the invincible, the glory of killing the one, the only Master Chief. The rewards of such a thing would be tremendous.
The Chief knew that this would be his chance. The Elite continued forward as glory protruded his mind. The Elite lunged in for a stomach hit, a stab, not a slash. That was a foolish mistake. The Chief side stepped to the left and saw very clearly that the Elite's sword missed by several feet. The Elite was expecting to hit a solid surface and failing to do so forced him forward. The momentum of his lunge would be his downfall. The Chief was several feet from the sword, but the Elite's head was a mere foot by the Chief. The Chief landed a swift elbow to the Elite's face and flung him out of his fall. The blunt force of the blow released the grip of the Elite's hand and the Plasma Sword faded into a murky existence in the Chief's mind. The Elite landed hard and bounced across the ground this way and that. He skid across the room about five more meters until his shiny armored body came to a screeching halt when he slammed into the wall. The Chief had won the battle. He walked over to the motionless Elite and gave him a respecting nod of acceptance and honor. He showed his appreciation for that particular Elite's ability.
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