Insidious Harbinger has been, without a doubt, my best reader and reviewer. He not only reviews good, but he reviews consistently. And he reviews well, giving me a lot of thoughts and opinions on what is happening in a given fic. That's important. He's been a friend for a long time, and i haven't always recognized that and recognized him. I gave him one fic, a few days ago, but it did not fit a gift. It was written for another purpose, and i just tacked his name on. This is specifically written for him. Hope you like I.H.
Untying the Noose
Tays spent the ideal hours waiting for her audience with the Prophet of Love smoking. Huffing was perhaps the better term. She tended to take long drags on her cigarette when she was bored. She was so bored even blowing smoke rings with her beak had lost its luster. The audience was scheduled for the day's third cycle. She had come on time, but was instead forced to wait for a full cycle! When she was finally called in, there was a large pile of spent cigarettes by her chair, a testimony to her impatience.
Love was an old San'Shyuum, having lived through more Ages than any other serving on the council, older even than the ancient Mercy. It was said that this advanced age gave him a deeper understanding of the Covenant's affairs, of the Forerunner's artifacts, and of the Great Journey itself. Still, his position was mostly given out of respect for his age. He was too old and too bitter to really contribute anything to the Covenant. Officially, he traveled to this planet to inspire hope to the warriors on the front lines. The Covenant was still in the process of wresting control of it from the human worms. Unofficially, the Council simply wanted him out of the way, and they dumped him here.
"Stupid Kig-Yar," was his greeting when Tays came into the room.
"Noble hierarch," Tays said. "How may I serve you?" Tays was not a believer, by any sense or any measure. She had pirated and raided human ships with blissful greed, but that was not official. Officially, she was as die hard as the zealots and the fools. It was for appearances that she groveled.
The San'Shyuum scowled like he tasted something bitter. A thin arm and thin fingers gestured to the very large box in the corner.
"Most Holy?"
"A Prophet of my standing, charged with things," he muttered. "Take your package and leave my sight. And stop smoking. Disgusting habit. Disgusting Kig-Yars."
Tays sighed lowly as she moved to the box and tried to pick it up. It was like lifting a thorn beast. She cawed in frustration, panting. Behind her, Love crossed his arms and tapped his finger on his arm. "Most Holy, what is in here?"
"Tanks of methane for the Unggoy."
"Most Holy…why am I delivering this? Shouldn't…the Unggoy be doing this?"
"Are you questioning my orders?"
"No, of course not Most Holy. Forgive me for not being clear."
By taking the handle and pulling with all her might, she managed to drag it, more or less, out of the room. All the while the Prophet stood there, tapping his finger on his arm. She stopped, panting. "Most Holy, is there not a Jiralhanae here that might be better suited for this heavy lifting?" She didn't bother for his response. He was nothing. A useless shell, kept alive through medications, surgeries, and a refusal to succumb to death. Why did her brothers pass so easily and yet this disgusting beast scratched and clawed for his every breath? And what was worse, his petty hate and anger and trivial orders slowed whatever progress the platoon could hope to make against the humans.
The field master yielded his plans and orders to the Prophet's whims out of respect for the holy caste. The operation had gone south swiftly, as Love's orders and plans grew more and more ridiculous. He was a coward inside. He refused to let the Sangheili, any Sangheili, leave his side, ever. Even the field master was not allowed to take part in the battles, so the Unggoy, Kig-Yar, and few Mgalekgolo were left leaderless to charge the well prepared humans. The Unggoy; even Tays felt bad for the poor stupid Unggoy. They had charged and snarled forward, just to be cut down by the turret fire, ripped to shreds until the air was more methane than oxygen. That choked several Kig-Yar until they simply fled, only to meat a firm scolding from Love. Tays didn't really care for the warriors, who died so needlessly, but this was just annoying. If things kept like this, she was doomed.
After what seemed like another cycle, she had finally managed to reach "the pit", the area the field master had given the lower species. He really had given it to them, and they were grateful. Love had no doubt wanted the entire base for himself and the lower species thrown outside in the cold, but the field master was adamant at protecting his troops in the confines of the base's walls. She dragged the box just inside the room before falling back, exhausted.
The bright side to all the death was the area was nearly vacant. When it had first been so cramped Tays could barely move, now she could walk and stretch nice and easy. A trio of Unggoy who had somehow avoided the suicide orders were at the far heated wall. A few beds were taken by her fellow Kig-Yar. Two Mgalekgolo were standing in the corner, possibly sleeping.
Tays climbed onto an empty mattress and lay back. Her stringy muscles were aching. Her feet hurt from the near constant patrols. Her beak her hurt, why she hadn't a clue, but it did, and that was pissing her off. Love would be the death of them all. Why was she the only one who could see that?
She groaned, rubbing her eyes. There would be no sleep tonight. She was aching, and she was sure tomorrow Love would order some foolhardy charge and she would be killed by the humans. She twisted and slipped off the bed, wobbling a bit. Her legs were like jelly. She wanted some air, clean air. The whole pit smelled like Unggoy. And all she could hear, aside from the pounding in her ears, was the squirming of the Lekgolo under their armor. She headed out. First, however, she stopped by the armory and checked out a gauntlet, a plasma pistol, and her Carbine. Her Carbine; custom grip, sighted right for her eye, longer barrel, and an engraving on the inside she had done with a shard one day when she was bored. She said she was going out on patrol. That's about the only reason Love would let her leave.
Maybe she would run away. It was better than dying in Love's name. Or go to the humans and pledge her allegiance. If they didn't shoot her on sight, she had a chance. From the mess-hall, she stuffed her utility belt with water and rations. Sighing, she started to really weigh her choices. She was just a pissed about not smoking anymore.
The planet's terrain had some variety. Forests, oceans, desert savannahs and human cities. Those had been leveled, as had most of the planet. But the sacred areas the Forerunners had blessed with their footsteps were preserved. This was one such areas. Desert sand as far as the eye could see, save (several hundred miles away), the Forerunner ruins the humans had been wise enough to retreat to.
Tays had walked a long time, feet aching and skin burning from the hot suns when it hit her how stupid this was. What was she doing? There was no shelter or enough food and water to last maybe three days if she rationed properly. She would head for the humans, and surrender. They were no doubt more reasonable than Love could ever be. She could sell them secrets. She would find a way to communicate, but the first thing she would do would be to throw her weapons down and put her hands over her head. Humans did that all the time. She had never taken a prisoner herself, but hopefully the humans would be more merciful. It was still a better chance than fighting with the fools and idiots.
To her side, there was a scream and the ground exploded upwards. The pitter-patter rain of sand made her instinctively activate her gauntlet and hide behind the cyan sheen.
"It bit my fucking crotch!"
Tays stared, baffled, as a human flailed about. He must have buried himself to stay hidden. By the rifle he was holding he was a sniper. But, Tays found herself asking, why did he throw his rifle down and use both hands to fondle the large lump at the front of his groin?
The ground heaved and lifted, and a human in similar camouflage burst out, firing his assault rifle wildly. Tays squatted behind her shield, the rifle's shots peppering the cyan sheen. She curved her plasma pistol around her shield. Holding her hand tight, the green at the barrel started to swell into an emerald ball. She released, and the green orb shot forward into the human's belly. He screamed, armor and flesh melding and melting into one. The hot plasma was more than enough to burn through the weak armor the humans used. Hoisting her shield up, she charged.
Though designed for defense, the shield's edges were 'sharp'. She certainly couldn't swing with the grace of an aristocrat, but she managed to cut the human, who seemed fascinated by his groin, across the middle. Twisting, she felled the second human with a slash across his knees, and he tumbled to the ground, howling and screaming like a mad man.
Tays panted, looking around for any other humans to pop out of the ground and attack her. She hissed as the two, gutted and crippled yet still alive, moaned and begged for mercy. Deactivating her gauntlet and taking the carbine off her back, she approached slowly. The human who she had cut the legs of, put his arms up and pleaded something she didn't understand, as she lacked a translator. She shot him through the head. The other didn't seem to be aware of the long muzzle to his head. She squeezed.
As she rummaged through his uniform for something to steal, she opened his pants and found a small, scaly creature, native to this planet, chewing and eating one of his testicles. She gagged. Humans were such vile creatures. Scratching the thought of joining them (she doubted she had the stomach) her eyes wandered to the sniper rifle on the ground. Curious, she checked the ground for any other scaly creatures, before settling down with the rifle. Through the scope, she had a rather good view of the Covenant base. These humans were either scouts or assassins And she had killed them. The field master would be impressed. Perhaps even a promotion would be in order. That would be nice. Maybe get back to her planet for the mating season.
Tays growled. Of course, the Prophet of Love would block that. She could march back to the base with both human's scalps, and Love would just send her out with the other grunts on a suicide run.
Tays examined the rifle, taking note of the scope. She fiddled with it and found the magnification button. Setting it as high as it could, she scanned the base. There! Straight ahead, in the center. The field master, addressing the warriors. She chuckled, waving cutely at him in the distance. "I can see you," she said, giggling a bit. She looked around a bit more, and found, to his side, the Prophet of Love. His arms were crossed and that sore look was on his face. He was giving his speech before sending the warriors out. Those three Unggoy, two Mgalekgolo, five Kig-Yar, three Sangheili minors. Love must have been feeling generous. Now, he only had twenty or so bodyguards to keep him safe, as if he wouldn't be running to his ship at the very first sign of danger. Tays' grip tightened in a bit of annoyance.
She shifted the rifle, the cross-hairs meeting Love's head. "I could kill you so easily," she muttered. "I've killed for lesser crimes than being a cruel, egotistical monster. This is practically self-defense. You'll have us all killed." She paused, squawking, wishing she had a cigarette. Licking her lips, she smiled. "I was patrolling, field master. I heard the shot. I went to investigate, and managed to kill them as they tried to flee. Why yes field master, I would love a promotion. Oh? Love was lost. Darn the humans. If only I had been a bit faster. I am so sorry."
She smiled, and took a deep breath. Holding it, her finger moved to the trigger, and she squeezed gently.
