 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Redesignation 2 of 2
Posted By: Stuntmutt<stuntmutt@yahoo.com>
Date: 2 February 2004, 6:08 PM
Read/Post Comments
|
As part of their training, the Spartan cadets took a crash course in vehicle orientation. Quite literally in Jonathan's case. His written off Warthog haemorrhaged fuel all over the motor pool floor. A mechanic thrust a mop and bucket at Jonathan, then trudged off shaking his head. Jonathan swabbed away without complaint for half an hour or so, then sought out the mechanic to return his mop and emptied bucket. The mechanic frowned.
"Where did you dispose of the gas?" he asked.
"I poured it down the latrine," said Jonathan.
A nervous tic pulsed beneath the mechanic's left eye.
"Hey Pete," he yelled over his shoulder, "who was that just went in the head?"
"Uh, the Sarge I think," came the reply.
There was a note of urgency in the next hollered question.
"Did he have his cigar?"
"Do Grunts poop in their breathing tanks?"
Jonathan and the mechanic looked at each other.
Whoomph, confirmed the latrine.
"Your name's really Doo Doo?" asked Jonathan.
"Silence!"
Doodu gestured for the cyborg to approach a door. As he complied, the door hissed open revealing what appeared to be a small workroom full of holographic monitors.
Maybe they'll even give me my own miniature power sword, thought Doodu. Jonathan regarded the workroom's occupant. The floating creature turned to face him. Its six eyes widened and its tentacles flailed excitedly. It emitted a stream of high-pitched chirrups, which Doodu answered in kind. Jonathan noticed that there was a different sound in this room. All the other parts of the ship seemed to emanate a weird blooping and bleeping, like some kind of alien elevator music. But in here, the sounds were louder and at a much more rapid frequency. The alien seemed to nod in time with it.
Jonathan smiled. It spent all its time in front of monitors. It listened to fast, loud music. And it probably couldn't get a date either. It had to be an Engineer.
The Engineer produced a silver device speckled with glowing lights and held it next to the Spartan's head. Jonathan was aware of a slight buzzing between his ears, but felt no discomfort or particular sensation.
The Engineer chirped at Doodu.
"He says you have no repressed memories," squealed Doodu.
"I didn't think I did. But then I suppose I wouldn't if I did, would I?" Jonathan reasoned.
"No more of your games. How did you intend to sabotage this ship?"
Had Doodu possessed a better grasp of human emotions, he might have noticed that Jonathan's reply was almost apologetic in tone.
"By being on it."
"So one of your men has infiltrated that cruiser?" Jacob Keyes was forced to raise his voice to make himself heard above the constant fire of the Autumn's cannons.
"That's an affirmative sir," replied the Master Chief.
"Spartan 012 you say?"
"Sir."
"You don't think we should send some help?"
"No sir," said the Chief. "The Covenant deserve everything they get."
The Symbolic Leviathan lurched wildly. Doodu was thrown to the deck and his pistol skittered from his hand. To his horror, it came to rest at the Jonathan's feet. The Spartan calmly picked the gun up, and with his other hand, hauled the Grunt upright. Handing the weapon back to its owner, Jonathan turned to the Engineer.
"Let me guess. We hit an asteroid? One of the engines blew up? A seemingly unimportant exhaust port was hit setting off a cataclysmic chain reaction?"
The Engineer's tentacles blurred over instrument panels. It made more of its twittering noises. Doodu stared at the pistol in his paw and then at Jonathan.
"He says the reactor's gone critical," said the Grunt. "He says that an incredible combination of factors has resulted in severe core damage. A phenomenally lucky shot."
A low, mournful klaxon bellowed throughout the ship.
"Or a phenomenally unlucky shot," said Jonathan, "from your perspective."
The Engineer floated towards the door, whipping its tentacles in a state of agitation.
"We...we have to abandon ship," said Doodu.
"I guessed as much," replied Jonathan.
The Grunt seemed to sniff at him.
"You did this, didn't you? Somehow, you caused this."
"Quite probably."
"But...how?"
It was hard to shrug wearing two tons of armour, so Jonathan threw his hands in the air to convey his lack of explanation.
Doodu's breather tank gave a long hiss. The plasma pistol once more pointed at Jonathan. But this time, the Grunt held it steady.
"You are still my prisoner. We'll make for the lifepods. Then when we're picked up, you'll be made to answer."
"It's not so much the answer as the question," said Jonathan. "You should have just asked my name."
There had been an accident on the rifle range, which left a seasoned instructor only able to get as far as the little piggy eating roast beef on his left foot. There had been the teleporter incident where half the Spartans had appeared at the arrival portal while their armour, right down to the undergarments, had stayed resolutely at the departure point. Then there had been the unfortunate episode with the rocket launcher during a King Of The Hill session. Which resulted in no Hill. Despite petitions from all sides, Dr Halsey staunchly refused to remove Jonathan from the Spartan program. She felt that somehow, whatever it was he had could be harnessed as a survival trait in its own right. Jonathan's fellow Spartans were not so gracious. Jonathan returned to his locker after training one day to discover it had been vandalised. Where it used to read JONATHAN 012, some of the stencilled lettering had been scratched away and the number had been augmented with a marker pen. It now appeared as -
JONA H 013. Jonathan couldn't find it in himself to alter it back.
"Get in," said Doodu with a flick of the pistol.
Jonathan was about to duck into the open lifepod hatch when he heard a thunderous roar behind him. He turned to see a blue Elite galloping down the corridor towards them. Doodu emitted a shrill squeak. The Elite levelled a plasma rifle at Jonathan and barked the guttural, garbled words of its peculiar language.
Doodu cowered. "He's...he's my prisoner, exalted one. I captured him," said the Grunt, keeping his eyes firmly at floor level.
The Elite viciously swatted Doodu aside, then growled a full, four-mandible challenge at Jonathan. It raised the plasma rifle and fired point blank.
At least, it tried to fire. There was a hiss and a billow of steam as the rifle opened up like a flower.
"Not often you see 'em overheat on the first shot," said Jonathan.
The Elite tossed the rifle aside and lunged forward with a snarl. Jonathan yelped and just managed to sidestep, causing the alien to crash to the deck. Jonathan sprang forward and knelt on the Elite's back, trying to grab hold of the creature's limbs and render it immobile. The alien howled at the weight of the cyborg crushing it, and writhed and kicked in an effort to free itself. Jonathan had to admire the alien's strength. His admiration soon turned to panic as he realised the Elite was managing to get the better of him. Suddenly he was the one doing the struggling. With a final massive effort, the Elite forced itself backwards, sending Jonathan sprawling. It roared with triumph, then slumped forwards, whimpering as it died.
Jonathan lifted himself up on his elbows and looked from the massive, smoking hole that went right the way through the Elite to the smoking plasma pistol in Doodu's paw.
"That...that was supposed to hit you," wailed the Grunt.
Jonathan gingerly stood up. He nudged the alien corpse with the toe of his boot.
"I'd say you're in deep, Doodu."
He'd been saving that one.
The Grunt made rapid squeaking sounds and hammered at its own head with both paws.
"Why me?"
"They don't call me Jonah for nothing," said Jonathan as he shoved the distraught creature into a lifepod. Stepping back, Jonathan gave an airy wave, then slammed his hand on the release button. He watched as Doodu's pod fired off into space, then clambered into an adjacent empty pod.
A few seconds later, the Symbolic Leviathan spat Jonah out.
The Master Chief scanned the hundreds of tiny dots that separated off from the big one.
"That one," he said, indicating a flashing dot. "That's Jonah's transponder."
"Helm, move to intercept and retrieve that lifepod then resume course," ordered Keyes.
"I'm gonna have him officially redesignated," said the Chief. "Dr Halsey was right. That Spartan is a walking weapon."
Keyes chuckled.
"One thing though son. If that boy's such a jinx, why am I taking him back aboard my ship? He's probably the reason that cruiser found us in the first place."
The Chief was silent for a moment.
"There's only so much bad luck he can generate. We'll just have to be careful where we let him loose."
Behind them, the helmsman closed the bay doors behind Jonah's pod and reprogrammed the Autumn's destination. The planet Reach.
|
