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Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely (Phase One//Part Two)
Posted By: Iatro<thesharklady@centralpets.com>
Date: 29 April 2004, 8:05 AM


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Seventh Cycle, 49 Units (Covenant Battle Calendar) /
Aboard the Truth and Reconciliation


       Edaj glanced up from the readouts displayed in blue holographs in front of his face at the chime, his eyes glaring at the entrance door to his personal quarters. Couldn't he even take a rest when he got back? He'd just sat down, and already he was being summoned for something ...
       "What can I help you with?" He asked gruffly into the comm.
       He received no response after several signals. He stood up and took a step toward the door, then his righteous paranoia got the better of him and he turned, picked up his trusty plasma rifle off the storage shelf, and advanced towards the door. He poked at the hovering keypad next to it and it slid open, revealing another Elite.
       This one wore iridescent black armor, a brilliant contrast to Edaj's stark, matte black armor. His black eyes bored into Edaj's wary face. Edaj relaxed and waved him inside.
       "Just you, 'Brusalee. Enter."
       Lanse 'Brusalee gave no acknowledgment other then to step inside, remaining standing as Edaj returned to examining his readings, placing his rifle back on the shelf.
       "Still paranoid, 'Sparramee?" The other Elite asked, the holodisplay reflected in his prismatic helmet.
       Edaj grunted and tapped at the hologram. It shifted and white text flashed by, then was replaced by blue symbols, highlighted here and there with crimson. Lanse stepped around to read over Edaj's shoulder, and both fell silent as they focused on the report.
       After several moments of quiet reading, the albino Elite snarled silently, then snapped his mandibles shut with an audible click as he stood up, his hands clenching into fists. "That fool! He's no idea what he's messing with, I have seen that human myself..." Edaj's rambling spiraled into a soft growling and grumbling as he paced, his long fingers curling and stretching as he clenched his hands into fists.
       Lanse allowed him his angry moment before he spoke again, rather softly. "I'm here to tell you, Edaj 'Sparramee... be careful. The Prophets are displeased, they've already executed 'Rolamee."
       Edaj froze in his steps and whipped his head around to stare at Lanse, glittering emerald eyes wide.
       "'Rolamee..." he repeated in a whisper, then his voice quickly gained in decibels. "'Rolamee! But why? He was-"
       Lanse clacked his mandibles together with a loud snap of fangs connecting and tapped the front of his mouth, glaring reprovingly at Edaj. "Do not speak ill of the Prophets, my friend. It is unwise."
       The albino met Lanse's glare and threw his own in turn, but kept his peace.
       "'Listen to me, 'Sparramee." Lanse began, again rather quietly, which forced Edaj to relax and listen. "'Rolamee unlocked something that was to be kept in its prison. He was against the Prophets' desires and went there, and because of him, the Prophets fear the humans have no released it."
       Edaj's eyes went wide as the realization of this sunk in.
       "The Prophets are going to be watching, my friend. They are after anyone they suspect may have helped 'Rolamee."
       Edaj clicked his lower mandibles in a shrug like gesture. "How does that affect me? I knew 'Rolamee, he was a great officer, but I was not involved in that. Nor do I want to be. I'm an Ossoona, I work alone. I care not for what the Prophets think, they are all corrupt and greedy."
       Lanse inclined his head, parting his jaws to show the tips of white fangs shining between cocoa hide and orange gums. "Hold your jaws, Edaj 'Sparramee. You never know who may be listening. Do not speak ill of the Prophets, they and us have founded this. They and us alone stand above the others. Do not be so arrogant and biased, dear Edaj."
       The albino allowed a moment to take in this words, returning to his seat in front of the holodisplay, though his eyes were focused on the wall beyond the report. "What of the Brutes, or do you forget those when they are not with us?" 'Sparramee twisted around in his seat to face the other Elite.
       Lanse's eyes narrowed to glittering slits. "I care not for the Brutes." he hissed. "Those primates think they can take on Hunters..."
       Edaj made an amused noise, staring at his reflected in Lanse's glossy helmet; the face that stared back at him was tinted with red and yellow. "Now who is the biased one, 'Brusalee?"
       Lanse stood up straight and flexed his fingers slowly, ignoring the question. "Be careful whom you speak to, Edaj. Keep your opinions to yourself." He rested his bony hand briefly on the Elite's armored shoulder, then took his leave.
       The albino's eyes followed him to the door and watched as he paused outside it to snap orders at a group of Jackals loitering in the hallway, then the door panels slid shut and obscured Lanse.
       Edaj ground his fangs together as he leaned back in his seat, shutting his eyes. Perhaps he could even catch some real rest; he'd think about Lanse's words later, when he could properly concentrate.




       Ortai's thick eyelids slid half-open, revealing pale glazed eyes. He hovered in that never-never land between sleep, consciousness, death and life. It seemed this was his true plane of existence, this was where he lived and survived.
       He was vaguely aware of a great, but distant, pain in his abdomen, and the fact that he was laying on his back, armor stripped from his torso. The pain seemed to draw closer and stronger, growing from a dull pain to a sharp lance that seemed to enter at his belly, run up his spine, and shoot back out between his shoulders.
       Ortai grunted and tried to push himself up. His arms gave out feebly and he fell back upon his spikes uncomfortably. Angered by his incompetence, he forced himself upright, blinking his eyes to focus them.
       The pink puffballs that filled the room focused into Engineers, which floated peacefully around the small medbay. The slug like creatures hovered around the Hunter, poking and prodding at him with their tentacles, the tips split into delicate fringes.
       Ortai waved his gauntleted hand irritably and hit an Engineer's soft body, knocking it away from his head. The Engineer squealed and did a midair somersault before regaining its hovering balance. The other Engineers huffed at him and prodded his chest, trying to push him back down.
       Ortai growled at the floating balloon-like creatures, then cringed as another lance of pain shot through his body. He waited for it to subside, ignoring the soft tentacles that probed at his body, and scanned the rest of the medbay.
       The room was circular with a low, arched ceiling and ringed with a wide bench. There was an Elite sitting patiently on a bench at the opposite side of the room while an Engineer attended to his blue armor. A pair of Elites in red armor paced the room, watching closely while another cluster of Engineers worked their dexterous tentacles over Ortai's removed chest armor.
       He felt positively naked and weak without his thick armor, heavy shield and fuel rod cannon. The Hunter shuddered and relented to the floating pink creatures and laid back down on the floor, stretching his neck as he reluctantly tried to relax.
       Ortai realized, much to his dismay, he couldn't remember exactly why he was here. He remembered climbing into a dropship, and his belly was injured.
       Wait, there was an Elite there, one who seemed to have saved him. Why? The Elites didn't care for anything but their own kind...
       The Elite was white. The albino, the Touched, as they referred to him. He always survived... but why would he waste his time with a Hunter?
       Ortai grunted and closed his eyes, ignoring the pain from the Engineers prodding his wounds. There was a simple enough solution. As soon as the Engineers were done with him here, he'd go and find the Touched Elite and speak to him.





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