They're Random, Baby!

Fan Fiction

Warning: escaping convicts can be allies in disguise (Part 2)
Posted By: Cap'n Keyes<nuppbutt@yahoo.com>
Date: 15 May 2002,12:03 am

Read/Post Comments

No, thought Dersoa. This isn't happening. These are my friends, my whole life's companions, and now they are being turned into the flood. I had expected them to die in the battle ensuing after the escape of the infidel commander and his minions. But they apparently survived and have now turned into these÷things, these horrible excuses for life. Any state would be better than this.

Dersoa decided to put these things out of their misery. Wallace was horrified at what happened also. Most of the flood looked the same. This ship seemed to have mostly Covenant infestations, but there were some human flood wandering around. Luckily they hadn't seen the odd companions yet. The half-flood Covenant still had enough of their former brain to not fire on an ally, but that was quickly changing.

Wallace quickly appointed his newly made ally. "We can't let this happen. If we don't move now, we're screwed. We have got to clear this room out now and call for backup. I can take all flood on, except for the infection forms. My lack of shielding does not work well for combating them, and if you don't cover me, you could be seeing a new combat form really quickly."

"All right," said Dersoa. "Let's get dirty." And with those words he unsheathed his Plasma Rifle and Wallace his M90 Shotgun, both scavenged from the areas around the Banshees.

Dersoa aimed right for a combat form that seemed to be of Covenant origin. A superheated ball of blue plasma flew out and sent the combat form's head rolling along the grated floor. It had no effect, though.

"C'mon! Don't you know that flood donĚt need their heads?" retorted Wallace. "The only way to stop them is to cause organic failure in them." And the roar of the M90 finished that thought, as the green, putrid blood of the flood was blown everywhere.

All of the combat forms were unarmed, but that did not mean that they were any less dangerous. "All right, we have some combat forms headed in from the top of the bulkhead." Wallace again. The charred skeleton of a Wraith tank provided some cover for them.

Finally, all of the flood combat forms were put down, either by the M90 or the Plasma Rifle. "All right!" said Wallace "let's call for backup!" And with that, both got onto the Banshee's comm system and called the nearest Battleship.

"OK, the nearest human battleship is sending Foxtrot 290 to bring reinforcements."

"The Forever Known has acknowledged our situation and is sending troops."

"All right, all we have to do now is wait."


The Master Chief and Cortana had been wandering aimlessly for about two hours when the distress call arrived. "Cortana, power up the Longsword's engines. It's time to help some survivors." Poor guy thought the Chief, all alone on an enemy vessel. Cortana was heard to remark: "It will take about one half hour for us to get there. The 'sword's engines are pretty toasty right now, and running them at full will probably melt them." "All right," said the chief, "But we'd better get there."


"All, right! I'm goin' to blow away some covvies, and maybe take down some flood on the way."

Private Richard Smith, the joker in the corps said. "Hey, I got a question. We call the Covenant covvies, so what do we call the flood? Floodies?" "No, private, you call them life sucking mutants with an attitude, just don't say that to their face." Sergeant Willy Thorton said.

"So, what makes us do this crazy mission anyway?" "Sarge Peter Wallace is a respected member of the UNSC military's administrative program. He is an important member, and when he asks for assistance, by God, we give it to him."


Onboard were many of each type of covenant, except for Hunters, who seemed to panic when they saw the flood. The dropship was one of three sent to provide support for Templar Dersoa, who played a key role in the Covenant hierarchy. Maybe, if they were lucky, they could take back the Truth and Reconciliation and continue with their slaughter of the infidel humans.


The first people to arrive were the Master Chief and Cortana. They had to dodge the fire from the flood to get into the bay where the two partners were. "Hello," said the Master Chief.

Dersoa was taken aback. "The legendary SPARTAN! It is good to have you here."

"What the hell does this guy think he is?" said the Master Chief, and raised his M90 to fire on the red elite. "Wait!" It was Peter Wallace. "Our primary goal is to take over this ship and escape. We have forged a bond over it."

"Take over the Truth and Reconciliation?" Said the Chief "Why, so the Covenant can continue to kill us?" "No," said Dersoa "If we take this ship back over, it will be a diplomatic vehicle, and we will negotiate peace with it. Our real enemy is the flood, not humanity. If we are to have a chance, we will need to band together."

With that came the whine of Foxtrot 290's jet engines and the loud blasting music of the marines. Foxtrot deployed the marines and left. "SPARTAN", said Dersoa, "Fill the marines in on their mission" "All right, but this is the weirdest mission I've ever done." But with that he left, and approached the marines.

"Hey, marines," said the Chief "Hello, sir!" They all said in unison. "Our mission is to clear this ship of all the pathetic things that call themselves flood. We have forged a temporary, maybe permanent truce with the Covenant on this basis. There are going to be Covenant dropships coming in and dropping covenant troops. They don't know of the plan yet, so they will probably fire on you. Take cover and prevent that from happening."

The Chief wandered over to Dersoa. "I filled in my people. Now it's your turn." With that, Dersoa walked over to the stealth Banshees and activated the radio. "Calling dropships," he said, which sounded like "Spihspord gnillac."

Oh, no, I just remembered, said Dersoa, the Forever Known's dropships have no radios installed in them. I can't tell them that the humans are not to be shot at. Crap, here they come now!"

"Marines!" yelled the chief "find some cover now!" "Dersoa, my fate and all the others' is resting on you. As soon as the troops are deployed, keep them from shooting at us. Tell them that we are good, and prevent any of your men opening up on mine. Good luck!" And with that, the Chief went running for something that would serve as a hiding place.