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Chuckles of the Gravemind: The Dark Chapters, Vol. 3
Posted By: Mister Frodo<tbone17lig@yahoo.com>
Date: 21 March 2006, 5:15 am
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"And that's about it."
Illuh 'Revoshu nodded. "Your history is interesting, human. We always believed you to be filthy primates incapable of intelligence."
"Thanks for the compliment." Jen sighed. "Listen, you don't have to believe me. But you asked me about it. So, do you remember the last part of our deal?"
"Yes, I do." He made an odd noise, as if clearing his throat. "The history of the Covenant began long ago, in the Age of-"
The energy door of the cell opened. Two Brutes strode in. One of them grabbed Jen roughly around the arms and hoisted her over his back. She kicked at him, to no avail. Sweat started to form on her face. She watched as Illuh was carried in the same fashion, only he put up no fight.
Can't those Elites fight? She stared at the calm warrior. Why doesn't he resist?
That wouldn't help. Not here. Not now.
She prayed silently in her head as the Brute headed to the end of the hall. God, please, have mercy. Have mercy.
"Escape is futile, filth." The Brute turned his head to look at her. He chortled. "Though it would almost be more fun than what we have to sit through." He moved his eyes back to the path. "Almost."
---
"Oena."
The word came to him. Was it a dream? A vision? Has my time come?
"The end is near." The deep voice filled his head, closing out all thought. "The Prophets have forsaken you. Your fellow warriors have all been killed. What reason do you now have to live?"
He tried to answer, tried to talk to the voice. But his mouth wouldn't move. The voice chuckled.
"You are not the wisest of them. Was that why you could not defeat him? The Demon is alive, Oena. And you cannot stop fate's advance.
"The end is near. Now you must hear. The time has come...for the end of your kind. The new power is rising, tightening its bind. It has begun, Oena. And nothing, not even your Prophets, can stop it."
He opened his eyes. The Grunt stared at him. "You okay Elite?"
Oena took in a deep breath. It had been so real, so lifelike...Had the voice meant what it had said? He shook it off. Now is the time for action. He turned to the Grunt soldier. "I'm fine. Now is the time to rescue our brothers."
"Okay, me stay behind you."
He sighed. Of all the help we could get... He clicked his lower mandibles. "Fine, stay back. But be careful. And don't run off again."
"Me promise."
He gripped the plasma rifle tighter. "Then let it begin."
---
"Got any threes?"
"Nope. Go fish."
"Crud." Private Roy Charles looked at the Sergeant. "Sir, do we have to wait like this? We've been here for half an hour."
"Sorry, son, but the Army don't take whiners." Sarge sat down on the Pelican's bench. "Well, until Honsor and the others get back, we'll have to wait."
Roy shook his head, and then turned to Corporal Evans. "Sorry, Roge, but I'm sick of this game. You win."
"My streak's now at 27." Evans plopped down next to the Sergeant. "So, Sarge, how are we getting off this thing?"
"Well, the best bet may be this bird here. I haven't gotten any responses from In Amber Clad, so either something happened to the Commander, or our communications are down." He leaned back. "Something tells me we're gonna be here a long time."
Roy carefully took the BR55 Rifle from his belt along with a cloth. The Sergeant chuckled. "You want some privacy?"
"What?" He glanced down. "Oh, you mean the rifle? No, I just like to polish it." His hand moved methodically, digging out the dirt and grime from his gun's exterior. "It makes me forget about my troubles."
"Well, while you do that, I'm going to go scout outside." The Sergeant drew an SMG and ambled outside. "Call me if anything goes wrong."
Evans stretched out his arms. "Well, I might as well run through the systems again." He stood and went to the dropship's cockpit. "Okay, the engines working fine, and..."
Roy tuned him out. He focused on scrubbing a dark spot on his firearm. A calm flowed through him, causing his muscles to relax. And those guys laughed at me for doing this. He glanced up from his work to see something streak across the sky. He furrowed his brow. "What the-" His gaze followed the line as it traveled away. "Hey, Evans, did you see that?"
"See what?"
He faced the corporal. "I don't know, it streaked across the sky."
"Wait." Evans jumped up from his seat. "What did you say?"
"Well, it streaked across the sky, kinda this blue and white-" He glanced back. "Hey, there's another one!"
The two of them hurried to the Pelican's opening. Blue lines traversed the dusk-lit sky. Roy realized they were landing closer...and closer...and...
One landed about three meters away from them. Roy squinted through the smoke. It was a pod, with blue clouds forming from its middle section. He leapt back as it burst open.
The black blur practically flew, striking down the corporal. Roy backed away, but not fast enough. The attacker charged into him too. Whether by luck or God's hand the sword missed, of course, the rest of whatever attacked didn't. Roy slammed into the ground five meters from his standing position.
The black-clad warrior strode forward, the blue plasma blade in its hands glistening. Roy recognized it: An Elite. He fired off a burst from his battle rifle, but to no help. The warrior continued coming at its slow, steady pace.
Roy closed his eyes. Well, at least God didn't let me die of old age. Of course, is that really something to be thankful for?
The Elite roared something in its alien tongue. Roy shrugged. "Yeah, same to you."
The alien raised the sword above its head. Roy moved his rifle into a final firing position. "Hey, meat face. Eat lead." He let off a round of clean, crisp shots into the attacker's face. Then another. And another. And another. The Elite yelled as its shield flashed and disappeared.
Roy pulled the trigger. The alien fell, three bullets implanted in its neck. Roy's hand shook as he got to his feet.
"Don't worry." He kicked the corpse. "I'll make sure your friends get the same."
With that, he darted off into the trees.
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