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This Is What We Get For Trust by Rtas Vadumee
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This is what we get for trust | Part 1
Date: 15 July 2009, 9:53 pm
A lone Covenant cruiser stood still in the vast blackness of space with a flag ship approching at an alarming speed.
"Ship master, the fools are falling for it," an Elite pilot calmly stated.
"Good. Those insolant bastards will pay. Rally my warriors! Let us finish this fight! The Brute commander doesn't see us as a threat, and he has lowered his guard! Now we strike," Rtas 'Vaumee shouted as he stood from his captain's chair, "go my warriors! To the Seraphs!"
Hordes of Elites rushed for their fighters and took off toward the Brute flag ship. The fighter class ships seeming insignificant against the endless sea of black space. Rtas slowly walked over to a screen and watched it closely, monitoring every move. The Seraphs were painted black just for this mission, allowing them to get in close seeing as the only way to detect them was to look at the stars themselves.
"Blast it! That is no Brute ship! Call them back," the commander barked as the minor Elite sitting before him scrambled to open a transmission, "The Parasite has gotten even smarter than we thought!"
But it was too late. The ship opened fire, shooting huge bolts of violet plasma at the small ships; none survived. The flag ship moved in closer to the Commander's ship. Rtas' remaining 2 jaws stood open with amazement as the flood piloted the ship closer and closer to him. The lines on the sides of the huge ship pulsed a warm purple, then white as the monster prepared another volly.
"Evasive action! Avoid that volly at all costs," The ship master opened up a intercom channel, "all units; Brace for impact or sharp movments! Gravity may shift as we avoid the parasite's attack!"
All throughout the ship, Elites braced against whatever was near as the the super heated plasma grazed the ship. One bolt hit an unsheilded area and blew a huge hole in the ship, boiling away at the layers of armor and decks underneith.
"Sir! Breach in sector 17. We lost almost all of our special ops troops," an Elite special ops captain said as he walked into the bridge, "I am not trying to sound mutanious, nor am I trying to question command, but my suggestion is we jump from here. At least we could find a small safe haven with the Humans."
"Hmm.. I will not hold it against you, nor will I punish you for it, but do not ever do this again. You have a valid point Tras, but you have no authority over me," Rtas turned to the pilot, "Jump to the.." His speech was cut off as another rally hit his ship.
"Sir, engines are destroyed. We also have a power failure in sectors 2 through 27."
Rtas cringed at the thought of a mear brainless parasite beating him and his crew, "Blast this damned monsters! Do our starbord cannons still work?"
A minor Elite checked a monitor, tapping the holographic panels with ease, yet his hand didn't pass through, "No sir, but our port cannons still do."
"Damn it! Blasted beasts... Wait," Rtas thought it through for several seconds, "We have a breach in sector 17 and when that happens we seal it off.. Tell all our troops from sectors 2-18 to move to sectors 20-25. I have a plan. We will release the air from sectors 2-18 into sector 17, causing the ship to turn at a rapid pace..."
Tras finished as he stood up taller, "and allow us to fire our cannons against them! It's a brilliant plan Rtas!"
The ship master seemed to glow with his pride. He lowered himself back into his chair as his plan went into action. The enemy ship seemed millions of miles away on the monitor but he knew in reality, it was far closer than he wanted it to be. He began to mutter a prayer under his breath; only the end could be heard, "... And may the Gods of both our race and the Human's watch over us.."
Time seemed to be going nowhere as the massive ships carried out their plans. Rtas's ship turned just in time to be thin enough to avoid a volly from the Flood ship. It continued spinning until it was in position.
The ship master, clad in his glorious white armor stood up and shouted, "All batteries open up! Blast these mongrels back to Hell where they belong!"
As he said this, all the cannons facing the ship fired as fast as they could; tearing the Flood ship into bits.
"Yes! It's working! Keep it up my warriors! I will send for help!" Rtas walked to his private room and opened up a comm channel with a nearby Human base.
"Gunnery Sergent Pete Stacker reporting, sir! What is it that our new-found allies ask of us," A marine said as the hologram appeared.
"We have been attacked by a flood controled ship. They have taken out all of our fighters, our engines, and our power source for the engines. We need help as soon as you can bring it!"
"Sir, yes sir! I will report it to the Cheif," right as the the marine was about to close the channel, Rtas stopped him.
"The Spartan is there? We are sure to be safe now. Do not send him though. Send your Pelicans or whatever they're called," The ship master said as he closed it up. He looked down at the floor, "maybe now we have a chance to win this war..."
The ship master looked at a poem on his wall he wrote back when he fought the humans, and read it aloud..
"High Gods of old, protect us now and ever.
The Humans plauge our lands, their limbs I will sever.
Holy Ones be praised, the Forunner Rings we hunt..."
He thought for several seconds and tore it down and added and ending..
"With-out question I follow, this is what we get for trust..."
This Is What We Get For Trust
Date: 4 August 2009, 2:12 am
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.
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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!"
This Is What We Get For Trust | Part 3
Date: 2 September 2009, 12:35 am
(This chapter will switch from Inside the Spartan's mind to 3rd person periodically. Also, it will contain references to the book series.)
"What is this feeling," he thought. "I see nothing but black. But at the same time.. I see everything. Should I be happy? Scared? I'm talking to myself.. Heh. I'm dead. There's no way I'm alive. I've been in space too long. I can't move..."
____________________________________________________________
"Ship Master, he's talking. He must be alive. Or it could be a recorded message, but we don't detect any power emiting from his suit what-so-ever."
"Hmm," the white clad Elite stood among many others in a hazy purple room (Like all other in a Covenant ships), "We must power his suit up."
Several of his men dissapeared and reappeared with a power cord of sorts and plugged it into the Spartan's back. After several minutes, his visor powered up and unfogged. Screams could be heard from inside shortly after.
____________________________________________________________
What the hell? My visor. It's not black anymore..? I'm.. I'm alive? Wait. What is that? Elites? Maybe? Yes! Dammit! Move, legs, move! Damn! They must have me restrained. What can I do? I won't panic.. Remember what John taught you, Mark..
____________________________________________________________
A faint whisper was heard after the screaming stopped, "Remember what John taught you.."
Suddenly the Spartan sprung into action, leaping up and over the crowd of confused and baffled aliens, standing poised to strike the first to run at him.
"Oh shit. I give up. I can't win," The Spartan threw up his hands.
The white armoured Elite walked up and extended a hand that the Spartan recognized as a hand-shake, "Welcome to our ship, Human. If case you haven't noticed; our races have made peace, for we have not been hostile toward you. If we wanted, we could have killed you long ago. Now sit Spartan, and tell your tale," he gestured toward a throne like chair.
The metal clad giant hesitantly sat and began to tell an epic tale of how he came to land on the ship, "Well.. To begin with my name is Mark. I was stationed on Reach and my team and I were doing fine until they begand galssing. It was a 3 person strike team. Linsey, Jake, and I. I lost both Lindsey and Jake, but managed to escape by hiding in the back area of a Wraith, which for some reason powered up and began shooting at other Wraiths. I soon hopped out and ran for a tractor beam which brought me into a cargo ship. I began to learn that despite I weigh half a ton in the armour, I can be stealthier than most cloaked Elites. I started a one man guerilla assualt on the ship, eventually destroying the bridge. The blast sent me floting all this way because I caculated where I would go if I stood on the outside of the bridge, which ended up being you ship.."
"Which would explain where the random Parasite infected ship came from," The Ship Master interupted.
"Pretty much.."
"And so the deed was done; those who have sinned are now gone; forever shall peace not reign; those who have sinned shall rise again," Rtas said calmly, "Does that poem not intrigue you, Spartan?"
Mark began to think about it. He opened his mouth to answer but was interupted by the door opening to reveal Sgt. Johnson standing in his tall, egocentric glory.
"Sir!" Mark snapped to attention.
"Damn son, how many do we have for real?" The Sergant said loudly, "I've seen the Cheif and a few more, but now one without the upgraded armour? You must be an old one. Aw what the hell am I talking about.. Wait, you still at attention? At ease son."
"Sir!" Mark sttod completely silent and still as the Elites stood in amazment at the complete disciplin and devotion of the Human. Most of the new recriuts couldn't imagine what they were once taught as filth could be so perfect when it came to commands and miltary. The ones that many Covenant killed were just Marines, but Spartans.. Spartans were different. They had surgical perfection and grace all at the same time.
"Who's leg do I gotta hump to get some buddies home? Cm'on! All'a ya! Back to the bay so we can leave this hell hole of a ship!"
Mark began to walk to the Airlock Bays with each step perfectly in time with the next. One, two, one, two. The Elites fell in behind him. Awkwardly at first, they tried to march in time with him, suddenly inspired by him, but soon got the hang of it and it proved to be a once in a lifetime sight. Humans and Elites walking side by side in time toward a common goal.
">Mission Report://Prevent the destruction of all."
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