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Aliens vs. Master Chief Part 6
Posted By: spartan058-halogeeky<youngartist2151@yahoo.com>
Date: 19 November 2005, 10:10 pm
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The Master Chief gasped for a first breath he had had in minutes. He looked to the marine, who was a dumbfounded as he was.
"How did you—?" The Master Chief asked.
"I…I don't know, I just grabbed whatever I could get…" The Lieutenant replied.
"Well…it worked."
The Master Chief scratched his scalp. He noticed that his hair was slightly above regulation, and his "long" bangs stuck to his forehead. He took another cloth and wiped the alcohol off his face. He took a deep breath and looked at the marine, who was staring at him in the same dumfounded face. The Master Chief looked up to his hair, and felt extremely embarrassed. How could he have forgotten?
Usually hair was the last thing you thought about when you had a helmet on all of the time.
After his self explanation, he finally pulled his glance away from his hair, and looked to James again.
"You know, you're a lot less intimidating with your helmet off," James said.
"Yeah, well that "intimidating" helmet saves my life," The Master Chief added.
James nodded slowly, and looked at the creature on the floor.
"That's the thing that started this mess," James said gesturing to the floor.
"The alcohol killed it; see if you can go find some more. Check the storage closet back there," replied the Master Chief pointing.
James headed for the back, and the Master Chief kicked the parasite with his boot. It jerked, and its sticky form stuck to the tip of his boot. The Master Chief gave out a disgusted cry and shook the thing off. He took his towel and picked it up. It felt hard, but it soon turned soft, as the parasite started to ooze its yellow blood. The Chief dropped it reflexively onto the floor. The cloth steamed like some one had just put it on a hot stove. He watched waiting for something to happen, and thinking on whether to just leave it there. He decided against it, and plucked the towel off carefully. The parasite was gone. There was a hole in the floor the size of the Chief's boot.
"Shit," The Master Chief said out load.
"What?" James replied in an apprehensive tone, and sticking his head out from around the door. "What?!"
"The parasite melted through the floor," the Chief replied.
"Melted?!"
"Yeah, I suspect their blood is acidic."
James let out a long moan.
"What do you mean "Acid for blood"? Better! The situation is still getting better!" James added sarcastically, as he let out another moan. The Master Chief sighed inwardly, and watched as James went back to the storage closet. He went over to the counter and retrieved his helmet off the floor. It had a few scratches on it, but nothing that would cripple its use. He slipped the helmet on and sealed the locks that made a slight hissing sound in the process. James came out with two gallons of rubbing alcohol, and set them on a table. He went back into the closet and came out with two more.
"We have at least two more gallons," James replied dully, as he started limping back to the closet.
"Good," the Master Chief responded after hesitation.
The Master Chief began opening cabinets and retrieving cleaner squirt bottles, and dumped its contents down the sink. He carried about ten over to the table. He took out one of his knives and cut the nozzle to let more liquid out at a time. He was careful not to cut too much, so that they'd still have some "squirt" effect. The Master Chief wasn't sure if it would kill the adults, but it might fend them off for just enough time to reload. He began filling up the bottles as the marine limped back out with one more gallon.
"That's all we have," The Lieutenant said.
"This will do. Now try to find something to cover up that hole in the floor."
James nodded and stumbled back to the storage closet again. The Chief continued to pour the alcohol into the bottles, and was soon finished, with about two and a half gallons left. He felt uneasy about wasting the leftover alcohol, but he had no choice, the gallons would slow them done. The Lieutenant walked over to the hole on the floor and put a rather large piece of wooden board over the gap. He stared at the board and shook his head quickly. He got up and went to the storage closet again.
James looked around the cramped storage space looking for something else to use; nothing.
Nothing is useable in this goddamned place!
James began to give up, just as the Chief stepped into the closet. He hummed a thoughtful murmur from that emotionless helmet. Then James watched as he took a duffle bag from the highest shelf with ease. James nodded, and followed.
"Nothing, we have nothing," James said. "I don't know what to do," He watched as the Chief started to pack the bottles, and some extra medical supplies that were spread out across the counters. The Chief zipped up the duffle bag and looked at James. James let out a stricken face of defeat and exhaustion.
"James, don't give up now," The Chief responding demandingly. "Now, I want you to pull yourself together, and find something that'll work. Got it?"
James sensed aggravation in his voice.
"Yeah," James hesitated and continued "Yeah, I will."
James walked back to the storage room without saying another word.
The Master Chief looked down at the floor and closed his eyes for a second. He felt stressed, and knew that was too harsh. He cursed and lifted his head.
He's the one who almost got killed…cut him some slack…
The Master Chief slowly nodded a few of times in agreement. He walked over to the closet, and saw James rummaging through some boxes.
"Hey, you know what? Why don't you take a brake…I'm sure you're still in pain. Sit down, I'll take care of it," the Master Chief said as kindly as he could.
James looked up, almost surprised; lifted eye brows, mouth slightly open. He lowered his eye brows slightly, and looked to down to his left.
"Oh…ok then…" James said and started for the door. The Master Chief stepped aside as he limped into the main room, and sat down on a chair, still confused by what the he had just heard.
James didn't understand…why had he told him to basically "suck it up" then cut him slack? Did he feel pity? Spartan's aren't supposed to feel anything. Pain maybe, but not pity. James narrowed his eyes and looked to the Spartan. His last assignment had made it clear that Spartans were made only for the purpose of fighting. And when they are fighting, they were supposed to be utterly fierce, emotionless…machines. No more then an android…but now…one emotion showed above all. Pity; a sign of weakness.
No, stop thinking like that. He saved your life…doesn't that mean anything to you? Forget what they've told you. Forget it. It won't be any good, especially since you want out alive.
James was having a full conflict with himself. Who do you trust? Spartans…or what your last assignment told you? James suddenly wanted to take back his thought. He had been told they were machines…but was there more? Maybe if he stuck around long enough…he'd find out.
Go ahead, press on…prove them wrong. Prove yourself wrong.
Something told him…he was wrong, and didn't even need to prove it.
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