Alright! In this chapter I will finally feature Colonel-Mustard1990's character! If you want to read the story he entered into my contest, and I highly recommend that you do, go to:

.net/s/7747686/1/Just_Another_Day_in_the_Neighbourhood

(Just copy and past after fanfiction in the url bar)

I do not own Halo, anything related to Halo or Bungie. Annnnd back to the story:

\/\/\N\/\/\

If Mistress keeps this up I'm going to get an ulcer.

He could already feel a hiccuppy gurgle in his belly, he'd be surprised if he didn't have one already.

"No! No, pleeease Mistress…please. Don't. Go. What if…" He was so scared he couldn't even think about what might happen if she left him here alone.

Mistress smiled down at him knowingly, "I have to go Nurse. The Base needs me again, and besides, things have quieted down here. You even have a new assistant!" A new assistant? That, that monster? Oooohh! If she hadn't been the one to save me that day I would…I would…! Anger made him clutch his fists together.

Mistress cocked her head to the side slightly, blue eyes innocent, her dark hair lightly cascading from behind one ear. Sometimes I just want to throttle her. He let out his held breath in a sigh of defeat. Once Mistress was set on something there was no changing her mind. "I..I just don't think this is a good idea. I mean he tried to kill me!" His savior looked down at him with understanding but didn't look like she was going to budge on the matter.

"I know he was mean to you. But he promised to be nice, and seriously?" She lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper "I really don't think he could hurt you, even if he threatens." The human tied her hair back into a messy short tail, and then shrugged on her "travelling medic" coat. "And besides, just kick his cane out from under him and you'll be fine." Nurse still did not think this was a good idea, but Mistress tended to be right about…well, a lot of stuff.

She must have seen his dejected look because she all of a sudden chimed, "Hey! You wanna know something?"

He tried his best to look brave, strong, and confident, "What Mistress?"

She kneeled down and pulled him gently to her chest, arms wrapping about him. He felt more than a little shocked. He had read about this before in a couple of human novels. Humans called this a "hug". A form of human endearment. Missy never shows any form of endearment…or even acts like she cares half the time. Strangely, the hug felt warm and comforting, despite that he felt scared and angry. "I think you are the bravest creature I've ever met, Nurse."

. . .

Mistress picked up her bulging green doctor's bag of human medicines and medical instruments. "Ok. I got everything. See ya guys later!" Nurse waved goodbye and said his farewells. But the whole time he kept a steady eye on his new "assistant".

The monster clutched on to his crutch tightly, mumbling goodbye and seeming more than a bit confused. Let him be confused. I'm not going to tell him anything. Once Mistress disappeared into the darkness of the bunker maze Nurse went back to work. Pretending he didn't hear his "assistants" questions.

Luckily, he had been left the majority of the various human chemistry utensils and containers. Finishing up Mistress's toxicology report on patient 2 ought to calm his nerves.

Two ruined samples and a broken beaker later, he felt worse than before.

To make things even more worse, the monster had slunk in, sat down and started watching him! He had been doing just fine up until then.

Nurse cleaned up his mess, trying to not look over at him. He could actually feel him staring at him. A horrifyingly unexpected bought of rage overcame Nurse and he screamed, "WHAT?"

The alien blinked stupidly a couple of times, and flared his mandibles in anger "How dare you…" Then suddenly seeming to realize just who Nurse was, he cleared his throat and growled, "I just wanted to watch. I, well…don't have anything better to do." He seemed to be simmering with anger, but made no move to strangle the grunt. Nurse wasn't sure how to react to this whole situation, he hadn't exactly found any books in Mistress' collection about Sangheili psychology.

"I am…was, trying to finish Mistress' toxicology report on patient 2." The big Sangheili did not appeared to not be listening, he looked like he was mulling something over…so what was it he wanted?

After a moment's hesitation Splits asked "I was wondering. What do you do with all of the patients? It seems like the old ones just disappear, and then are replaced by new ones." Nurse let out a sigh of relief. Was that all he wanted? "I'll show you if you will agree to help me."

Without a moment's hesitation the alien piped, "I agree."

/\/\/V\/\/\

Well, at least I get to finally do something for a change.

The tiny alien was waddling ahead of him. The Unggoy paused and waited for him to catch up. Hrmph, if I had both legs I could out pace him easily. But he didn't, and so he must be treated as such. The cripple growled angrily mostly at his own incompetence, but picked up his pace regardless.

"Do not wait on me. I can handle myself." The Unggoy called Nurse grunted in reply and turned to lead him further down one of the dark hallways in the labyrinth. He had already been warned not to try and find the exit "Don't go poking around in the tunnels. There are places in this bunker system even I've never explored." Missy had looked rather convincing; but he really doubted her honor, so therefore at one point or another he was definitely going to come back here.

His mind was racing with all the things he might find in an old human military bunker. Maps, battle-tactics; prophets be true! He might have hit the intel jackpot! His mirth slowly dissipated when he saw the obstacle in the path. Nurse stopped at the top of a set of winding stairs and turned to look at the Sangheili.

The way that…inferior creature was looking at him made his blood boil. Pity. I don't need pity. The whelp began to say something but Voro' walked right past. The stairs were only illuminated by the flashlight Nurse carried. Even with his superior night-vision Voro' wasn't sure he would be able to see down here. He knew that methane breather was watching him for any slip, any mistake possible. The Sangheili carefully lowered his crutch, and then began his long decent.

. . .

I made it. Of course he was exhausted afterwards…but he hadn't fallen. His left arm throbbed from the crutch, and his good leg was aching but he wasn't about to complain. Between a huff of breath Voro' mumbled, "Must humans still use stairs?"

Nurse was smarter than he looked, because he didn't attempt to answer.

Suddenly, a smell wafted down one of the black passages. It caught his attention in that moment, pulling him out of his thoughts. It smelled heavy, moist, and carried the unmistakable scent of death. The grunt must have noticed him sniffing, "That is the morgue. I don't like it either…but…"

Voro' finished for him, "Research. What kind of boddies does your mistress study I wonder? No doubt she enjoys dishonoring the Sangheili dead."

The little alien gave a little shudder, "Not just Sangheili…any she can find."

The Sangheili snaked his head toward the scent. "By the smell she must have a lot of samples." Nurse nodded, looking like he was going to be sick, and continued to lead them to the passage left of the morgue. Hmm…wonder if I knew any of the bodies. With that last thought he couldn't help feeling that he should have been down there, already rotting with his brethren.

. . .

As they rounded the next corner, Voro' Tuyokee could hear their footsteps ring out into a large expanse. A chamber? Nurse waddled to a side wall and with a grunt flipped a heavy metal switch. Voro' had to shield his eyes from the sudden harsh, bright light. But when his eyes adjusted he gasped, "By the rings…"

Missiles. Racks and racks of them. Large launch pads big around as a wraith took up most of the floor, along with old, dusty consoles. Heavy-duty maneuvering machines hung overhead, ancient skeletal remains of what once must have been the best human technology. These aren't just regular missiles. These are nuclear missiles.

Through his many encounters with humans and his own intel recovery he had learned much about these nuclear weapons. He remembered hearing of a human planet now called "Chernobylas" where two rival human colonies had blown each other to oblivion, turning the planet into a barren, irradiated wasteland.

Ever since, these hellish weapons of mass destruction had been outlawed and the documents to their manufacure supposedly destroyed. The thought sent chills down his spine. "We are sleeping above a chamber full of nukes?" He was definitely not going to be sleeping much anymore.

The grunt looked surprisingly calm. "Mistress says they are all duds. Flukes she called them. They will not harm anyone. I wouldn't test them though." Before he could retort, the little alien spun on his heel and took him out across the large missile chamber.

Nurse stopped beside a rather crude looking vehicle. It had four wheels, four crummy torn up seats, and a rather flimsy looking shield-like thing on top. That doesn't look like it would protect anything. Besides its ridiculous design, it was also quite hideous. It was splotch painted in colors of black, browns, and greens. On the side in white letters were the words "Nurse's Caddy" rather sloppily painted. How quaint. Nurse hopped into the driver side and proudly rattled, "Mistress said that this is called a golf cart. It used to be used in some kind of sport or something. Anyways…we strap the patients to the back seats, and then drive them out to a random location near a Covenant encampment. By the time the patients wake up they can just walk back to camp!" He seemed truly proud of himself.

Voro' was half tempted to say how stupid that plan was and how they were eventually going to get caught. What am I thinking? I want them to get caught! He bit back his comment and instead went to go sit down for a minute in the cart.

Not as comfortable as he thought it'd be. His spine was curved differently than a human's, his leg did not fit comfortably, and he had to hunch over in the seat. Once he was situated and semi comfortable Nurse pressed a button on the front panel. The vehicle sputtered to life and released a rather nasty smelling black cloud. Suddenly Nurse cranked the thing into gear and they were off. Should we really be driving around these nukes? But the grunt was not frightened, so he won't be either.

After a short ride around the room the grunt pulled the "golf cart" bottom of the stairs. "Ok! Now we can go get the patient."

Voro' sputtered, "What? We have to go through that all over again?"

The little alien gave him a challenging look, as if saying what you can't handle it? That made him angry instantly. "I have had it with this pity! Grunt! I demand you take me to my armor!"

}}}}X{{{{

The council chamber was dark and majestic. Iridescent royal purple metal coated the walls and floor. The only source of light in the gloom was cast from dull, phantom-like, blue control panels.

One such panel cast a large projection of photos of slain Sangheili, each projection more gruesome than the last. A booming voice echoed in the vaulted, cathedral-style chamber as countless rage-filled souls drank in every word.

The need for justice was tangible…though not everyone seemed to feel it. Xarrel' Thallemee was truly and utterly bored. He sat near the back in the shadows, as he was accustomed to doing. His brown-grey skin the only thing visible as his black armor enshrouded him in the darkness.

Must he rattle on? It seemed like it had been 3 cycles since the special operations commander had begun his rant. Moral of the story, a thief arrest had gone fantastically awry. Apparently some of us cannot handle a simple thief.

It was an unholy mess. The holo-grams displayed the deteriorated and strangely melted corpses of a stealth minor and stealth major. He took careful note of which of his peers cringed away from the gruesome shots, and then stored it away for later. He had to admit, whatever did this had flare. The purple blood stained the ground, the chests were nothing more than hollow casks (even the bones were strangely gone). All-in-all whoever did this was a real badass in his opinion. I feel sorry for whoever gets placed on this mission. Seems like one hell of a task.

He came out of his thoughts when a particular name caught his attention. "Yes, that's right. Our report says that Voro' Tuyokee has been reported missing he was-" It was all he could do to keep from laughing right then and there. Voro'? That rich snob? Missing? The massive Sangheili had been one of his assigned team members on some of his more stealth-reliant missions. Not a bad guy, although he wouldn't be seen grieving for him.

Xarrel's father, on the other hand would have killed to hear this. Only you can't. You stupid honor-worshipping idiot. Yes, his father would have loved this very much.

The Tuyokee had been the bane of his father's existence, he was always ranting Mr. Meanperson' Tuyokee, way back in forever ago stole our families honor by slaying Poorlilguy' Thallemee and taking his valuable family doodad. The names always changed, the thing taken changed, the honor stayed the same. And look where that gets you.

He felt thankful for the darkness then. He smiled, his broken and crooked lower left mandible twitching slightly in strain; the ugliness of it tended to make even the most reserved stare.

He smiled in a twisted form of disgust at all the ass-kissers in the council room, readily assuring the commander that "I will find the culprit single-handedly", "I will surely bring Voro' back alive", "I will find him fastest." All the little children trailing after Mother Dearest hoping to get a pat on the head. Go get 'em you sorry bunch of half-wits.

He on the other hand was going to take a nap.

. . .

Xarrel' stepped outside the dark council chamber and instantly winced at the brightness outside. The sun here is too damn bright.

After a moment of blinking the water from his amber eyes he started wading his way through the crowd of camp-goers. The one good thing about being a Sangheili is that the crowd tends to recede for you. He tried to not relish the overwhelming feeling of importance as grunts, jackals and even the occasional skirmisher jumped out of his way.

The feeling left when he arrived at his purple, dented pod. The inside was just as mediocre. Being from a relatively unknown family meant that he got hand-me-down supplies.

But, he had a bed, and a place to put his standard-issue weapons and armor so he was satisfied.

Just as he started to remove his helmet a methane-breather poked his head into the pod "Xarrel' Thallemee, the commander has requested your presence."

Of course. Xarrel' began the tedious job of fitting his helmet back on, being ever so careful not to hurt his injured mandible, all the while cursing. When he finally finished he snapped at the staring grunt, "Well? Take me to him."

. . .

Alei' Lunjasee the special operations commander was waiting for him when the grunt brought him to his chamber. He was not large in stature, incredibly bright, or really much of anything. How he managed to become commander, Xarrel' had yet to find out.

Xarrel' noted just how lavishly his commanding officer lived. Large, spacious living quarter, comfortable looking chairs with matching tables, and great trophies from past victories decorating the room. Lunjasee stood looking at one such trophy…the head of a demon. Silver in color, blue visor cracked, its helmet caved in; a remnant of the human race's last attempt at salvation.

Lunjasee turned when the Unggoy announced in the shrill voice of his species, "Special Operations Minor, Xarrel' Thallemee." The commander made no thanks or even noted the grunts presence, just simply stared at Xarrel', his mandibles tight.

What is it that upsets the commander so? Not that he really cared…what really concerned him was why he was involved. Lunjasee motioned to the two chairs nearest him, "Sit, we have much to discuss." Xarrel' warily sat down, anxious to know what was wrong. Alei' clacked his lower mandibles slightly "As you know, there was a terrible incident at the supply dock-"

By the rings…I was there! I don't need a recap! But he played the good little soldier and listened, nodding his head appropriately and growling in anger at the death of his brethren. "-and I think you are perfect for this mission."

Xarrel' had already guessed this would be the case. But why did he want to speak with him in private? "Commander, I am truly honored to be given such an assignment." He touched his fist to his chest, looking as honored as possible, "But," Did he dare to continue? The Commander splayed his mandibles slightly in the beginnings of indignity. "I don't see how this befits my rank."

Alei' calmed, and even gave a hearty laugh, "Ever the clever one." The commander studied him for a moment, considering his words carefully, "You have a certain…disposition. I have pored over file after file of possible candidates, but out of them all I think you will fulfill this task greatly. Now, there is a complication that we must discuss."

The commander's holo-projection pad hummed to life then, and began playing a recording.

The special operations minor leaned forward in his curiosity. This was a projection he had not seen in the council chamber.

The recording showed the figures of two guards at the top left corner, they were only visible from the waist down; half their body obscured by the ceiling of the supply building. Xarrel' focused on it intently, hoping to get a good glimpse of whatever the commander wanted to show him. Suddenly, one after the other, the two guards fell face-first onto the ground.

"Those two were given some kind of chemical that knocked them unconscious instantly," Narrated the commander "They do not recall anything prior to that moment." Then there was nothing. The video played and played.

Xarrel' counted to 45 before there was a black streak and a glint of metal. "What was that?" A growing dread was creeping up his spine. The commander tapped a couple of times on a holopad near his chair. The shot replayed at a slow and re-enhanced pace.

The black streak was a stealth minor being quite literally, thrown across the screen.

His bad mandible twitched of its own accord as he glimpsed the next figure racing by.

The video paused revealing the only enemy known to strike fear into the Covenant…a Spartan.

Brown armor made it blend in nicely with the surrounding dirt and grime. He wanted to get a look at its face, even though he knew it impossible to see the creature behind the visor. The only thing he could see was it sprinting past, fists curled. In the right it clutched what looked to be some kind of needle.

"I felt it necessary to not show this video during council…didn't want to spread panic. You must do this quietly. I want no one to know." Xarrel' wiped away any signs of fear that might be on his face and turned to his commander. And put on his ugly smile, just for him.

"A suicide mission? I'm flattered."

I'm going to die.

Hooray for new characters! I have to say I'm having a great time writing this story and I really appreciate all of you guys that continue to read my story. Please be sure to check out that story I mentioned in the beginning of the chapter! Love you all (especially if you review :D ) Till next time.