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A Spartan Names James- Part 3
Posted By: ZePHyR wRaiTH<zephyrwraith331@aol.com>
Date: 23 October 2003, 3:41 AM

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0945 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar) /
Epsilon Eridani System, Covenant Flagship above
Reach Naval Yard

The strange purple and pink metal of the Covenant flagship's corridors rushed past James' faceplate in a kaleidoscopic array of color so powerful that any normal person would have long since vomited and collapsed. But James was not a normal man.

James had been running through the ship for nearly an hour, encountering only scattered resistance that was causing him to become uneasy. He had figured that the Covenant wouldn't take the presence of an enemy in their ship this lightly, but maybe he had gotten lucky and killed all of the alien monstrosities in the cargo hold before they could get out a distress call. He sincerely hoped that that was the case, and that none of the creatures up ahead would know of his presence.

His luck didn't hold out for long.

Apparently, the Covenant had figured out his course to the bridge, which wasn't surprising since he had taken the route directly out of their ship's navigational computer. As the disoriented and battle weary soldier rounded the last corner to the control area, he had a run in with a Covenant welcoming committee.

Blue and green plasma reached out and touched him as scores of crimson needles raced at the olive green wall of his MJOLNIR suit like miniature Archer Missiles streaking from their pods. James dove back behind the cover of the bend in the hallway and rolled away from several needles that had happened to follow him around the kink in the corridor. He stood up only after the last of the needles had embedded themselves in the floor and burst in a shower of crystal. He had caught only a glimpse of the forces he was up against and sincerely wished that he had picked up the weapon that the Brute in the hold had favored. In the split second that he was exposed he saw a group of five Elites, eight Grunts, and six Jackals. All of them were clad in the black armor of Covenant Special Ops, and half of the Grunts were armed with Fuel Rod Cannons. James knew first hand the kind of damage that those guns could inflict, and flexed his mechanical arm in remembrance. Then an idea struck him.

Chief Mendez had always told the Spartans that when a group outmatches their opponent by a great number, they tend to underestimate them, and the last thing that they would expect would be a seemingly suicidal full frontal attack by a weakened and cornered adversary.

So, naturally, that was exactly what he did.

James let out a howl of fury as he lunged out from the cover of the wall and tossed two plasma grenades in quick succession. He ducked back behind the wall until he heard twin thumps and a great flash of blue light. Then he took off running. James ducked as the broken and battered body of a Grunt soared over him, trailing blue blood along the floor that would soon oxidize and turn a sour looking pinkish green. The Spartan reached up and grabbed the Grunt's Fuel Rod cannon by the barrel mostly out of instinct than thought and brought it down to bear on the unfortunate huddle of Elites before him. All of the shark-like beings noticed the imminent danger of the glowing green hole before them, but all acted differently. Three dove out of the way, two ran the opposite direction along the corridor, and the last stood silently and did the Covenant variation of crapping his pants.

A flash of green light lit up the corridor and took out all six, their limbs, blood, and internal organs were all reduced to multicolored smears on the wall. Without hesitation, or even allowing the alien rocket launcher to reload, he pulled out his plasma rifle and seared through a Jackal's chest cavity with a jet of flame. The creature collapsed and left James staring face to face with his final opponent, a hulking and misshapen Hunter.

James rejected the fear that coursed through him, and forcedly calmed himself. James baited the alien monster into swiping at him with its shield and then quickly sidestepped to the left in order to dodge the enormous metal guard. When he had a clear view of the creature's unprotected back, he formed the fingers of his metal hand into a knife blade with the palm down and plunged it through the orange flesh of the beast, gripping the slick spine and tearing. A piercing wail of pain was the only answer he recieved.

After making sure that he was alone, James turned and silently stalked to the door leading to the bridge. After bracing himself for the horrors that he would surely meet beyond, he pushed the manual control for the door and leapt inside as soon as it had opened high enough to allow his passage. James looked around and saw to his relief that he was alone in the cavernous interior of the bridge.

But on closer inspection he realized that he was most definitely not alone.

The conduit leading to the control platform stretched up nearly to the roof and James saw the air up on top of the hovering disk shimmer as a blue light sword lanced from where the Ship Master's hand would be. A deafening roar filled the chamber as the highly decorated Elite taunted his enemy in a tongue unknown to the human. James lifted his plasma rifle to the prone position and was greeted by the sound he least wanted to hear at that moment.

For the second time in five minutes James wished he had remembered to grab the Brute's weapon as he heard the sputter of a completely drained plasma battery.