This is my first Halo fic, and it was actually inspired by Zuka 'Zamamee and Yayap from The Flood. Ben and I always liked to joke that they secretly had somethin' goin' on. I realize there aren't a lot of (if any) GruntxElite stories on ff.n, but I can't get the idea out of my head so there ya go. Hope you enjoy!
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Unggoy are from Venus: Sangheili are from Mars
Chapter 1: Succeed to Advance
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"What are the chances of him pulling through?"
Voices…
"Not good...the projectile shredded the breathing apparatus. He was without methane for nearly two whole units."
Muffled voices tugged him out of his unconsciousness.
"...Hmm...what of his injuries?"
His eyes slid open lazily and gradually adjusted to the soft light, shadows cast over him blocking out the harsh sun.
"Nothing serious. A broken arm, a burn on his torso, his―"
Blurry figures standing over him…
"But you don't think he'll pull through...?"
His vision became clear, and he recognized the silhouettes of two Elites…but his mind was hazy.
"I have my doubts, Excellency."
"Then leave him...you must worry about the ones who will survive...the ones that can still fight..."
It was Eekyip's first day as a soldier.
He'd been told that being a warrior was the greatest honor a creature of the Covenant could receive, that he only had inexperience to lose, and glory and salvation to gain. But there was no glory for him... No glory for a Grunt like him.
Not there on that bloody field…
"To battle, Warriors! Fear neither pain nor death!" an Elite bellowed and charged forward. A host of Grunts followed, growling and whimpering in nervous anticipation. Eekyip was one of them.
His group of trainees had only recently been evaluated by the High Council of Boundless Lucidity. The Council was pleased with the progress of the group. Accordingly, they were transferred immediately to the front lines and placed under the command of a hot-headed rookie Elite named Zabo 'Fuzumee. 'Fuzumee often said that death is the final step to salvation, but Eekyip noted that the human bullets skimmed harmlessly over the blue-armored Elite's energy shield, where as they tore through his kind like tiny airborne razors.
As he debated standing there, frozen in place throughout the battle, Eekyip decided that all Elites were, in fact, insane. He took a step forward, slipped in the mud, and fell on his face. He slowly raised his head and attempted to dislodge his snout from the muggy terrain before coming to the realization that his breathing apparatus was stuck tight. He couldn't move.
Perfect!
"Up, worm!" Another rookie, Mibo 'Nosamee, last one on the field as always, kicked Eekyip in the rear. The Grunt squealed and tore himself free. He took a deep breath and felt his mouth and face-mask turn icy-cold before staggering up a steep incline towards a stone structure.
The first two battles had been short and uneventful— except for the loss of Fawgof, with whom he had never been close— and Eekyip hoped this third one would be no different. However, they had previously outnumbered the humans three-to-one. As Eekyip reached the top of the slope, he felt his chest tighten. He would have backed away if 'Nosamee hadn't have come up directly behind him. There were easily a hundred humans against two Minor Elites, a red-armored veteran, and fifteen fear-stricken Grunts.
Eekyip watched a short, stocky human with a squared off helmet reload his weapon and yell over his shoulder, "Aim for the big ones! We'll take care of them first and pick the little bastards off!" A hundred booming shots rang out at once, bullets zipping past Eekyip's head. Moments later, 'Nosamee's shield sparked and a projectile took a shortcut through his throat. He gurgled and fell at Eekyip's feet. The Grunt froze.
The red-armored Elite, whom Eekyip knew only as 'Excellency', ran forward and took three rounds in the chest before his shields faded. After that, he seemed to move a little faster. One shot hit him in the shoulder, but he kept firing. Another tore through his knee, armor shattering and blood spurting. He fell and didn't get up again.
'Fuzumee panicked and fired wildly into a group of humans. Their rifles finished him off within seconds. Between the three of them, the Elites had killed nine humans; Eekyip decided that there were at least ninety left. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a Grunt, Laklaw, fall. In spite of his frozen joints, his heart rate spiked. He remembered his training, reached for his pistol, and took a shot in the face.
The impact sent him spinning and he went down, his left temple slamming into the semi-soft dirt. The field was splattered a horrific bright blue. Eekyip could taste his own blood. The humans were cheering. He wheezed, barely able to breath. Then he heard a familiar sound...
…a dropship, like the one that had brought him to this place. Fuchsia plasma fire splashed over the human-held structure and their cheers became screams of pain. Breathing suddenly became a tremendous chore―and Eekyip faded into unconsciousness.
…
"―the ones that can still fight."
Eekyip jerked. He willed himself awake; he was so unbearably tired, but he forced his eyes open and breathed deeply. If he didn't get up, they would leave him. His vision was blurred, but he could make out a massive gold-armored Elite and a diminutive medic.
"Yes, Excellency," the medic said coldly.
The gold Elite left his line of sight. He could feel the medic relieving him of his plasma pistol and he squirmed in desperation. He could hardly breathe. He wanted to scream and babble about honoring his oath and serving the Hierarchs―anything to persuade them, he wanted to live!
Just then a new figure appeared, fuzzy at the edge of his vision. Eekyip turned his head to get a better look and his sore neck protested violently. He flinched, wheezing a pained noise.
"Hold on."
Eekyip squinted in the direction of the steady voice.
"Are you blind? This one's not dead."
A black-armored SpecOps Elite had taken his plasma pistol from the medic and was holding it out to him.
"Come on, now. Make an effort." The Elite's voice was calm, almost...gentle. "Your injuries are not severe."
Eekyip's muscles tensed, he reached with all his strength, but could not grasp the weapon. The Elite's knees bent just slightly and suddenly the distance was considerably shorter. Eekyip took a firm hold of his pistol and held on for dear life while the Elite hoisted him to his feet.
Eekyip staggered and fell forward. Where he expected to fall on his face, he found himself suspended in midair—the Elite had caught him and was repositioning him on the ground. The Grunt took another step forward, slipped, and kept walking, then suddenly pivoted, unsure of where he was going. The SpecOps Officer had dismissed the medic and another black-armored Elite was coming towards him.
"Iko!" came the approaching officer's rumbling voice.
The Elite, Iko, turned.
"Look alive! Let's secure these survivors and be off. The human is waiting."
"Hm," he murmured, nodding, "quite right…" The two Elites strode off toward a deep-purple dropship. Eekyip hobbled along behind them. Not too far off, a yellow-armored Grunt, about Eekyip's size, ambled up to him.
"Niplip!" Eekyip exclaimed.
"Eekyip!" the Grunt squealed and snorted in excitement.
"You're alive!" they both said at once.
"I killed three humans after the first dropship came in," Niplip exclaimed. "Rigreek says I may be promoted!"
"That's great," Eekyip lied. Niplip was probably the only Grunt in the military who thought a promotion was a good thing. "Rigreek? Is he with the SpecOps?" The other Grunt paused.
"He wears black armor," Niplip provided.
"I've never seen a SpecOps Grunt before." Eekyip decided that this Rigreek must be very brave, or very unfortunate. He then spotted the Grunt―he wore space black armor and wielded an energy rifle. Eekyip wondered if he had scavenged it from a fallen Elite.
"A Commando Grunt..." Eekyip murmured.
"My hero," Niplip whispered. "So, who pulled your face out of the mud, Eekyip." Niplip snorted as he laughed.
Eekyip swallowed. "No one. They were going to leave me."
As naïve as he was, Niplip didn't look surprised. Minor Grunts, such as themselves, were cannon fodder. It was not at all uncommon for the upper ranks to leave weak or injured Grunts on the field and go dashing off to the next battle.
"So, what happened?"
Eekyip pointed with his good arm. "That SpecOps Elite there, Iko...he helped me pull myself together." Eekyip frowned. "I think it's kind of savage," he mused. "If you can hold onto your weapon, I'll bet the Elites will carry you off the field." Niplip's grip on his pistol tightened reflexively and he eyed the aforementioned Elite.
"...Iko?" he whispered.
"What about him?" Rigreek's voice cut into their conversation like a blade. He'd abandoned his task of tedious name taking to escort the Minor Grunts. "Show the proper respect. His Excellency, Officer 'Ebamee, is a terrific warrior." The SpecOps Grunt's tone softened as he moved under Eekyip's good arm to support him. "You would be seeing him in white, but he has graciously declined the position of SpecOps Commander. He feels that the responsibilities which accompany the position would detain him from battle."
"But―" Eekyip started to say something about the sanity of one who thinks that a SpecOps Commander doesn't see battle frequently enough, but was wary of the respect this Iko 'Ebamee commanded. "It's a great honor to be offered that position, isn't it?"
Rigreek sighed. "Ehh it's a personal choice. It's complicated—and none of your business Rookie."
"He brought it up…" Eekyip muttered to Niplip.
Eekyip considered the possibility of an Elite who values the lives of even the most unskilled Grunts and chooses efficiency over glory. It sounded like a minor case of sanity. He'd seen it before in Elites―it was easily treated with rewards and promotions.
They came to a stop before the Spirit dropship. Four black-armored Elites had taken seats on one side and were leisurely checking their weapons. On the side that the Grunts approached were seated two black-armored Elites and a red-clad Major with a head-wound. With the edition of the three Grunts, the bay would be rather crowded. The three Elites were talking like old friends and Eekyip was not keen to disturb them. Rigreek hopped in and extended a hand to the smaller Niplip. Eekyip was content to wait his turn when a pair of strong hands lifted him swiftly and deposited him between Rigreek and one of the SpecOps Elites.
"Iko!" an Elite called sharply from the other side.
Eekyip saw Officer 'Ebamee smile and nod at a SpecOps Elite who called after him as he left. "Honestly, 'Ebamee! What would 'Mozomee do without you?"
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Read The Return of Zamamee and Yayap; by Warrior of Virtue because Zuka 'Zamamee and Yayap are the coolest.