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Hunter Ch. 4; Present Tense
Posted By: LordsFire<EarthMartianSpaceBob@hotmail.com>
Date: 16 January 2005, 4:02 PM
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I groaned. All that freaking fighting in New Mombassa, and then we just hop right back on out. I wasn't sure what was more aggravating, that we didn't get a break after the fighting, or that the city would now be trashed as thoroughly as if someone had nuked it. Pacing along the corridor of the In Amber Clad towards my berth, I rolled my head around to work the kinks out of my neck. Sighing, I entered the marine quarters I shared with my squad.
I worked off my ODST issue armor, and changed into a jumpsuit. Inspecting my armor, I noted that the leg and arm pieces were undamaged, but the chest plate was a bit beat up. Of course, the ding in my helmet was the reason my neck was sore in the first place. Belting on my sidearm, I checked it's mag, and then went in search of a tech to patch my armor.
Walking towards the engineering deck, where the tech's were quartered, I passed by the brig, which had a pair of marines stationed at the door with Shotguns.
"Who's in the can"? I asked.
"Didn't ya hear? Some ODST nut took down a spec ops elite with a sword." The older looking of the two said.
"How does that make him a nut"? I asked, "Is anyone less a nut for doing it with a gun"?
"Look kid," the Marine said, "You look like you've just been through your first fight, down in New Mombassa, right"? I nodded, and he continued before I could clarify, "Believe me kid, after winning your first fight, it might seem like all Covies are pushovers, but spec-ops, they're just nasty. They are the toughest of the lot, and they come with active camo and energy swords. Not fun customers."
"So what does all this have to do with who's in the can"? I asked, somewhat annoyed.
"The elite's in there."
I glanced down at the plasma scoring on my helmet. Hm. I didn't realize I'd left the bum alive.
"What was that son"? The marine said, and I realized I had been muttering my thoughts aloud.
"We allowed to see him"?
"Only techies, or someone sent by Captain Keyes are allowed in."
"No one else"?
"Well, Private Evans, the one who brought it down is allowed in, since the Elite won't speak to anyone but 'the one who bested him.'"
"That's me." The Marine snorted and pointed to the pad by the door. I thumbed it, and it took my thumbprint, blood-type, viral immunities, and DNA. The door opened, the marines jaw dropped, and I stepped into the brig, smiling.
There were only three cells, and Idu Ashanee was in the one to the left, very thoroughly restrained, I could barely see his chest under all the chain.
I heard the clanking noises associated with the door to my prison opening, and I looked up. There was not much else I could move than my head, as my torso was very thoroughly chained to the walls, suspending my in the middle of the puny cell the humans had put me in. My feet were clamped to the ground, and trying to move my legs put painful pressure on them. Pulled out level to the ground, my arms were stretched almost to the limit in order to keep them immobile, their chains reaching straight to steel loops protruding from the wall. In effect, my feet were on the floor, but none of my weight rested on them. The position was just uncomfortable enough to never be out of my mind, which was more aggravating than if it was outright painful.
Why did the gods not grant me death in battle?
A face appeared at the cage-like door to my cell.
"Hello." Evans said.
I growled.
Looking thoughtful, Evans continued speaking.
"I suppose that being stuck like that all night would leave me irritable as well."
Was the creature simply here to mock me?
"I'd be guessing you didn't sleep well. The prison mess any good"?
"It was foul. I suspect your superiors tried to drug me." I growled at him.
"Not much better than what we get on the regular mess. How's it compare to what you get back home"?
Evans stuck his arms inside the bars and leaned against them, his tone continuing in that maddeningly casual manner on ridiculously commonplace topics.
"The food at home is befitting a warrior." I spat at Evans with as much venom as I could.
"You know, it's been said that you can tell how strong an army is by how bad its food is."
I snorted in laughter.
"I haven't met a soldier yet who didn't laugh at that." Evans grinned.
Why was I laughing at this humans joke? Did this human never shut up? "Why are you here human? Have you come to mock me"?
"Just curious." Evans said still grinning.
"Your curiosity is what got your treacherous race it's well deserved fate."
If that did not take the smile off his face, nothing would. And it did, but the grim look that took its place I liked even less.
"Your kind burned my world. Your kind incinerated my home, my family, and everything in this life that I valued. You are lucky I do not kill you now." His voice sank to dangerous lows, which seemed to mean the same thing in their culture as ours.
"What gives you the right to threaten me after your precious Covenant.," he spat, spittle landing just short of my foot "Destroyed my world"?
Heresy! "Your destruction is the will of the gods!" I roared at Evans, struggling desperately to clamp my mandibles around the loathsome creatures face, impossible across the distance and through my bonds.
"And who tells you the will of your heathen gods"? Evans said, voice in lethally low tones, murder in his eyes.
"The Prophets! Thus has it been since the founding of the Covenant, and so shall it be till the Great Journey begins!"
"Why do you suppose the prophets want us dead pagan? Not because they have received some divine message from their false gods, because they fear us."
The outrage! How dare this human... I spluttered, to angry for words.
"You can't deny it. Look where you are now! What chance would your precious Covenant have stood if we had had another hundred years to build our strength? Our ships would be over your home-world, instead of yours over ours." He paused breathing deeply, and the tension draining from his face, and then continued. "I know not what God intends for your race, but I know that ours is not fated to destruction at your hand."
The door to this prison opened again, and Evans turned to away from me.
Not getting anywhere? Of course I hadn't been getting anywhere, This was an Elite, not a grunt! Like they had been accomplishing anything themselves! I stalked down to the engineering level, where the tech's from the station were cloistering themselves in the only workshop the In Amber Clad had.
Bah. I shouldn't have let the elite get under my skin. He wasn't threatening anyone from the brig, and I didn't accomplish anything by getting him angry. Bah. I entered the workshop, and was surprised to see the techs working on my armor. Carter was pouring something on the plasma burns on the chest-plate, and Yung was fiddling with my helmet again. Erikson looked up when I came in, and a muscle in his jaw flexed when he saw me.
"You saved our lives yesterday." Erikson said, his voice deep and purposeful, "We'll not forget that." The muscle in his jaw twitched again, and he turned to his work table again. I stepped around him, glancing my sword on the table, before I was beset by Yung.
"Ah, the blade master." Yung said in a normal voice, took a deep breath, and began the blitz. "Ok, so we've been going over your armor, nice stuff by the way, especially considering it was hand forged, anyways, so, as soon as the nuts in the infirmary let me loose, I came down to do some more work on your helmet. 'Course I found Carter and Erikson already working on your armor and sword. We wore the grindstone a good bit before we realized that blade was Tungsten-Carbide, and the synthetic Diamond edging really did a number on the grindstone. So anyways, Erikson found some small heat diffusion flaws in the synthetic diamond, probably from when it came in contact with the plasma blade. By the way, how did you know that Diamond would be able to refract the containment field on the plasma blade? Anyways, he used a laser welder to heat the blade till he could chip the synthetic diamond off, and he's pulling one of his little miracles on it now. Carter here heated and reshaped the plasma melt on your breastplate, and he's doubling the thickness of the quartz laminate, nice stuff. Before you probably could've taken two hits from a plasma rifle to any one point on the suit, now it'll take three, maybe four, although you'll probably get a partial breach on four if it doesn't totally fail. Anyways, I've done some further wiring on your helmet, I think you'll enjoy the results, and once I integrate it with a few mods to be done on your base armor structure... well, I'll let you find out for yourself."
"Do you even need to breathe"? I asked.
"Oh, I mastered a unique method of talking while breathing in long ago. Very useful at meetings and presentations when you need to get a point across all at once."
I raised my eyebrow at him, and then looked at his arm.
"Doesn't the cast slow you down"?
"Oh a bit," Yung said with a strange smile, "But not enough to stop me."
"So when will my armor be ready to go"?
"No idea." Yung smiled again. "What's with the ODST helmet? I thought you were off duty."
"I am, I need to find someone to patch this." I gestured to the plasma scoring on the back of the helmet. "I'm still required to wear standard ODST gear on missions, you guys saw the only time I've worn my armor since I got to Basic."
"Where did you get this stuff in the first place? The only thing of similar quality was from when I was working on MJOLNIR for the SPARTAN program."
"Family."
"Where the heck did they get it from? They high in UNSC command"?
"Nope. Me and my father made it."
"Where do you come from"?
"Onteron."
Yung's eyes widened and he looked away. I thought back to he transmission I had received from my Grandfather...
"Son, the Covenant have hit the system. We don't think they'll glass the planet, what with the origins of the family farm, but they've sent around a thousand landing craft, and there's only two thousand marines on planet. Your father's already laying escape and evasion, but you know the UNSC isn't going to send any reinforcements once the Covenant control the system, and with that many troops..." Grampa sighed and closed his eyes, looking tired "We'll try to keep everyone alive, but you know how hot tempers run in this family. God bless you Evans, it looks like your going to be the last of us." And then the transmission had ended, and in my heart the cold fire ignited that had frozen me over.
My eyes refocused on Yung, who was staring at me worriedly, and I turned to the door.
End Chapter.
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