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The Cyborg Wars by Jonathan D. Smith
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The Cyborg Wars Series: The Prologue
Date: 5 October 2003, 12:40 AM
" I beseech you, Carpelt!" the human engineer muttered to the Grunt who stood before him, " You must free me, or you will be destroyed."
The Grunt, Carpelt, strode calmly before the engineer, a plasma pistol in his arm. In the squeaky Grunt tongue he replied coolly.
" Mr. Hanson, on Earth you designed the prototype for a particular type of Cyborg armor," the Grunt said, bringing his face into that of the engineer, " I need you to supply me with those designs. When you do this...and you will do this...I will release you from your bondage."
" I will never give the designs to you, Grunt!" Hanson sneered, " They will send someone for me. You know this."
" I am counting on it," Carpelt gazed up at the open roof of his palace, where there was a long streak of smoke in the sky.
Master Chief was tossed about wildly, his shields trying to balance, as he fell through the atmosphere of this strange planet. It was a neutral world, mostly populated with Covenant creatures who had denounced the war-loving religion that usually went hand in hand with being Covenant.
As he cleared the atmosphere and fell like a meteorite through the red tinted evening sky, he pulled a sniper rifle from its place strapped across his back plates. He gazed through its 10X magnification at Genfan Palace as he fell. He saw two heavily armed Brutes at the palace balcony. With two expertly aimed shots, the Brutes no longer posed a threat.
As he came into 3,000 yards above sea level, Master Chief replaced his sniper rifle with his only other weapon on his back plates, an automatic shotgun. He formed a "superman" dive and shot toward the balcony. Once he was above it, Master Chief righted himself and two rockets burst from his boots' heels, slowing his descent. He landed softly in-between the bodies of the two dead Brutes.
He gazed into the curtained doorway into the palace. All logic suggested that it was flooded with Covenant guarding their master, Carpelt Genfan, a Covenant genius scientist.
He checked his rifle and stepped through the curtains and into the palace.
Carpelt stepped away from Hanson and looked at his lifetime bodyguard, an Elite named Sting. Sting held a heavily modified plasma rifle, his weapon of choice.
" A rescuer has entered the palace, Carpelt," Sting said, " A cyborg. May I face him?"
"No," Carpelt replied, " Not yet, at least. Have our first wave meet him in the kitchens."
" Yes, my master," Sting said.
Master Chief held the automatic rifle poised in his arms, ready to fire at a pin drop. He was making his way through a series of metal corridors that had been relatively empty, except for a few unfortunate wandering Grunts, who hadn't even a chance to squeal. Master Chief hated killing, but for some reason he found it easier to do when doing it to allies of the ruthless Covenant.
The cyborg slipped through a slightly open metal door. He found himself in a chilled, frozen food storage compartment. It reeked of the nasty cuisine of Grunts. He continued walking very cautiously until he came into the kitchen. As soon as he walked in, the door shut behind him and he saw his enemy.
A combination of a hundred Grunts, Jackals, Elites, Hunters, and Brutes filled the room, weapons aimed at him. It would be impossible to survive even the first series of blasts with an already damaged shield. He did not despair, but he did not try to escape. He just stood there.
To the shock of the creatures, he unclipped a plasma grenade from his utility belt. They backed up slightly, but then saw the insurmountable odds against him defeating them and continued toward him. Had Master Chief's eyes not been blocked by his dimmed helmet goggles, they would have seen him gazing at the heat generator at the opposite end of the large kitchen.
He tossed the grenade, which stuck firm to the generator. In a split second there was a tremendous explosion, and causing a blinding flash of light and a large ball of flame.
The palace shook beneath Carpelt as he gazed around in curiosity. Finally the rocking ceased and he looked at Sting.
" We've toyed with him, and he's toyed with us," Carpelt said, " Now lets finish him. Bring him to me...alive."
"Alive, master?" Sting asked distastefully, " What good could he be to us alive?"
" Let it suffice to say that it could turn the tide of this war," Carpelt said.
" Master?"
" Just do it, Sting!" Carpelt flared for a brief moment, then calmed. " I am sorry, my old friend. I will answers all of yours questions later. Now, go do what you do best."
Sting started off toward the kitchen, muttering under his breath.
" What I do best is kill!"
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