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To Capture a Prophet Chapter 2- Dropoff
Posted By: Covie_Lover
Date: 21 July 2004, 5:24 AM


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To Catch a Prophet Chapter 2- Drop-off

      Note: Since as of yet, the Covenant names for the different species in their religious order have not been officially released, I will use their human terms (Elite, Jackal, Grunt, etc.)

      Mira 'Zoyomee looked worriedly at the time schedule. The Prophet Falomee had been in this facility for far too long. The standing security protocol was that an important figurehead, such as Prophet, should be moved after at least 12 cycles, in order to prevent anything bad from happening to them, because as of late there had been a significant increase in the number of assassinations within the Covenant High Command.
      'Zoyomee sighed as massaged the back of his neck thoughtfully. Normally, the Prophets were all too happy to move around every 20 cycles, because they are in general very concerned with not dying, unlike the braver Elites such as 'Zayomee. He had managed not to die however, and his current golden armor portrayed his exalted rank. In most cases, this would mean he was a Fleet Master, but he had been temporarily elevated to the rank of Secondary Prophet Guardian. Normally, this would be considered a great honor, to be this close to a Prophet, but Falomee was somewhat more....eccentric than other prophets. He was even rumored to think humans less despicable than most thought. But to say such a thing about a Prophet was heresy, and warranted a slow death. Still... 'Zayomee shook his head tiredly. The Prophet just kept using his authority to push the removal date farther and farther ahead. If anything happened, the blame would fall squarely on him, and he would be executed, or worse demoted to the lowest rank possible-a civilian. 'Zayomee shuddered at the thought of the ridicule he would face if that happened. Little did he know that his worst nightmare was swiftly approaching in a Pelican dropship.




      "We're dropping you of half a mile from your destination!" yelled the pilot of the Pelican over the roar of its engines as it descended.
      "Prepare for touchdown for drop-off people" she continued, "And...Touchdown, good luck, boys and girls!" Sally and John grabbed their supplies and hopped off the Pelican, then watched it fly off into the distance.
      Well, we better get going," began John, "and scout out the covenant base. Here, take your share of the cloaking field projectors and a sniper rifle, and we can both rendezvous at a spot we determine after 1 hour, then we will proceed to-"
      "Dude, stop acting so acting so technical, you don't need to use all these fancy words, 'cause as far as I can see, there ain't no nobody around to kiss up to." interrupted Sally.
      "Excuse me, Sal, but I am simply speaking in accordance to standard military protocol, and there is nothing wrong with using-"
      "John, you're doing it again!" Sally broke in once again, "Look, just meet me in one hour, and I'll pick the spot, okay? No, wait, don't answer that. I don't want to hear another of your long-winded responses." Behind his visor John rolled his eyes.
      John shook his head in disgust, pick up his sniper rifle, and walked away toward the high cliffs overlooking the Covenant base.





      Zeka 'Mehnomee was stood in his high lookout post, bored beyond belief. He hated watch duty. His abilities deserved far more attention than simply standing at his post all day long, watching the desert while absolutely nothing happened, except of course for rolling tumbleweeds passing by, and small dust storms stirring up in the distance. He knew that his job was pointless, as no one would ever come to this god-forsaken wasteland planet anyway. But he knew that, just because the rank portrayed in this blue armor, to go argue with a superior about changing his job would be akin to suicide. Or if they were a nicer commander, they would say something like "I know it's dull, but someone's got to do it, and you're the lowest ranking soldier in this compound, so blah blah..." and so on. Some day, when he got out of this stupid, undignified lookout post, he would go into battle and kill so many humans that he would be elevated to a high rank like Fleet Master, skipping the red armor completely, maybe even going straight to the holy black armor...
      And so 'Mehnomee was so absorbed in his visions of grandeur that he took no notice to the two strange shapes, resembling heat waves coming off the ground, that passed within ten feet of his post 30 minutes later.

TO BE CONTINED...




Well, I hope you like the second installment in this story. As you can see, I have expanded the characters a bit, and am including Covenant viewpoints. Hope you enjoyed it!





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