Chapter 3: A Vengence is forged

OOC: Ok, so here's the low-down, due to someone pointing something out and I myself thinking it was wrong I decided to change it, the thing was that I put that Jecht fought elites hand-to-hand, which is slim to nil in chances of victory. So I changed the elites to jackals )

Disclaimer: Idiot

((Disclaimer get owned by shotgun.))

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"Uh…where am I?"

Jecht's mind spun as he tried his best to look around, his vision was still blurred to the point where everything looked like a random mix of colours. As his mind ached he slowly moved his head around to look at his surroundings. His vision got a little better and he could make out that he was in some sort of storeroom. The dry grey paint seemed to disappear in places, and was replaced by black building material; the ground was littered with broken tiles that were once carefully and painfully paved. Directly in front of him was a light, grey door (as he pretty much made out from what he saw.) that was probably made of metal, and firmly locked in place.

His headache getting better and the control over his numb legs was beginning to return to him Jecht tried to stand up, battling against the shaking of his legs, but it was in vain as he tumbled back down to the ground, knocking some tiles aside in a clatter of hard, dry clay. Cursing silently he tried to get up again, from hands to knees to feet, and did not trip this time. Jecht then tried to do some small walking, and that was fully recovered in about five minutes of constant walking in circles. Suddenly a sharp pain crossed his body as he sat down; looking at the area he saw that there was a hole the size of his fist with scorch marks lining the edges burnt squarely into his chest. He then remembered that the jackal that he took out first had picked up the plasma pistol and fired at him, and that the pistol was low on power so it was not deadly upon impact.

Hardly believing in his sheer luck Jecht stood up again and walked over to the metal door. Twisting the crude, metal handle that was cheaply made into the lock he found that it was locked firmly, almost bolted in. Obviously his little trip had alerted some people and Jecht heard footsteps getting closer and closer to him. Stepping back to the wall he sat down and stayed where he was until he heard the heavy lock open with a sharp, metallic noise and the door swinging open slowly.

In front of him stood four grunts, obviously a guarding party, and a species he had never seen before. It was a strange creature, with obsidian black eyes and a pale, white skin. The thing wore some sort of grey suit that covered from the neck, down the waistline and the long, bony legs until it dangled just above the knees; it's long and slender arms were not covered by the suit but were instead armoured with special gauntlets that covered the arm from the elbow, and had thin, long metal claws protruding in areas where the fingers (if any.) should be. Then there's the most obvious and startling thing about this creature, the wings. It had big, white wings that were probably the diameter of the creature per wing, and were luckily folded.

The creature stared coldly at Jecht before speaking in a tone, which greatly contrasted his look, warm and welcoming, yet had a tone of annoyance stringed up somewhere in his voice.

"The captain would like to see you now," It said, and from that point Jecht made out that it was male. "And do not try to run, for it is futile and you shall be vaporised if you do."

A grunt patted the plasma pistol holster to echo the new alien's warning, the whole holster was glowing dimly with a green aura, which means that the first shot the grunts fire will be over-charged and will disintegrate Jecht upon contact, (a century ago it would have only resulted in a massive third-degree burn, but technology have moved on and most of those kinds are in museums and scrap-yards.).

Thinking twice about how to act Jecht simply gave a slight nod and walked into the group of aliens. The party then began to move as they headed towards the interrogation centre, the little grunts feet keeping a steady pace with only a few uncertain steps made. Letting curiosity take over his common sense Jecht looked at the creature that walked beside him that was about a head's height taller than him, and asked hesitantly "So…are you one of the new captured races working for the covenant?"

The creature turned his head towards Jecht and gazed at him for a second, almost staring blankly. He then began to speak in the same tone that he did before (without the harsh string of tone mixed in, as well as in almost perfect English.)

"It really depends on how you put it, we Kestrels are a new race to covenant society, yet we were conquered a mere 60 years ago. Our race never fought your kind, or I would have had a great hate for you. We people have heard about your persistence to the covenant masters and admired how you held for so long (80 years was it?) and tried to follow your kind when we were attacked, but alas we only held for a quarter of the time."

"Well that's still better than us." A grunt suddenly said. "We only held for a year."

"Quiet!" The Kestrel exclaimed. "You know how they kill people who knows English without their permission! Stupid law that…"

Taking a deep sigh the Kestrel carried on. "Yes, we are tired of the covenant grasp on our freedom and would like to be free again. Sadly many of our brethren would rather stay where they are, such pessimists…"

Jecht cautiously took a glance at the creature, before curiously asking "So you share the same dream as us then? You know you could just quit and go find a freedom fighter group to join."

"I could've done that a long time ago…" The Kestrel replied. "But I now have a family to help, so I'm a bit too late for this type of thing."

"So what is your name?" Jecht asked innocently.

"My name is Horactis," The Kestrel said. "And better should you not ask any questions here, for this place is not crammed with covenant troops."

The group turned right at a corner, and stopped as they saw a prisoner being dragged out of his cell. Screaming wildly as he was pulled away by the wings (which actually didn't hurt.) by two elites, it was another Kestrel, probably someone who done something that the covenant police cannot prove the guilt (and probably innocent too), but arrested him anyways and locked him up till interrogation, which is now.

Even from here Jecht could hear the high-pitched screams of the creature as it was dragged round. It was yelling, "The covenant is corrupt, free the people, HELP THE REVOLUTION!"

Later Jecht was to know that the poor man was vaporised by an energy screen while trying to escape through. But now back to the present. Seeing that the little escapade was now over. The group started up again, turning left from where that Kestrel was led and then right into a well lighten room. It's walls were painted a covenant shade of purple (used on most battleships.) and had patterns painfully painted on with a thin, manual paintbrush. In the middle of the room stood a metal desk, and behind that sat a gold plated elite, one that could have served in the army, but for some unknown reason decided to pass it for now.

"Your excellency," Horactis said, bowing at the same time. "We have got the prisoner here safe and sound, no attacks by rowdy people."

"Good," The gold elite said relaxingly, before waving for them to leave. "You better see to it that other person screaming his head off is gagged when he returns to his cell."

"Yes your excellency." Horactis said, giving another bow and taking him and his grunts out of the door.

The gold elite then stood up and walked over to Jecht, who was beginning to panic; sweat was dripping from his forehead while his hands were rushing to find pockets to hide in.

"Sit down." The elite commanded, which Jecht did so in lightning fast speed in a chair beside him.

"So, you have been attacking my men have you?" The elite said. "You know how even in your human terms is considered assault, but I don't see how you primitive people even care." Walking back to his seat the elite sat and began to look through the holographic projector stationed in front of him. "It says here." The elite said, before grinning. "That you seem to have a general dislike for us eh? Maybe because we wiped the floor with your kind during our glorious reclamation by the prophet's order?"

That single remark made Jecht flinch like as though he was hit hard on the arm. Jecht's mouth began to show teeth as he was beginning to become irritated.

"Ok then, we shall have to do something about you…for wounding our men, it shall be 1 year for every hit you made on them, which is 4 years, also for letting a criminal escape-"

"For god sake!" Jecht yelled. "The guy was just walking on the street! The 'criminal' went the other way!"

"- It will be 2 years, and finally for not reporting a crime, 1 more year."

"Why are you doing this to me!" Jecht screamed, unable to contain his anger.

Unusually for elites who would have ripped his head off by now, this one stayed calm and amused. "Well sorry, this is the policy for all of your kind."

"Then why are you doing this to our people!" Jecht screamed. "Is it because of the war?"

Silence then filled the room, no longer was the elite amused and strangely the entire outside corridors were quiet as well. The only noise that was heard is the noise of wings as birds left their nests outside for the night hunt and the deep breathing of Jecht venting anger.

"That was a very brave thing to say boy…" The elite growled. "I could just rip your head off right now, but I am going to punish you with my own little ways…"

With that threat echoing throughout his mind Jecht saw the elite take out something from a desk drawer nearby, from a distance Jecht saw that this was a small wooden box. The elite walked back to his desk where he sat down and stared at Jecht, his yellow eyes piercing deep into Jecht's soul.

"Do you know anything about the time when humans were at there knees? Of course not, you were not born until fifteen cycles later. At a last attempt to defeat us the humans created a warrior similar to the Master Chief twenty years before this one, who died in a battlefield in which my grandfather fought in. This new warrior was like him, except with better technology. He was known as the 'bronze knight' because of the amber armour he wore."

The elite chuckled, before going on.

"I remember when I was about eighteen, fighting this demon of a man with my other comrades. It was a tough fight, but in the end by some weird, and brilliant chance. He was killed, slain by a plasma blade to the throat."

Jecht suddenly felt furious at such a brutal kill made by whoever that done that.

"And do you know who that amber warrior and his slayer was?" The elite said. Pausing for a while to let the feeling of mental agony sink into Jecht.

"It was me, ands the warrior was your father."

Everything then happened in a flash of blinding quickness, the chair that Jecht was sitting on was kicked back as Jecht literally lunged at the elites throat, but it was in vain as an equal force to his pounce knocked him back onto the hard floor with a crash. Laughing the elite walked beside Jecht, just in front of the energy wall between him. In his hand he held the wooden box that he took out earlier.

"And this is just to let this thought sink into your mind." He said before carelessly throwing the box through the shield and into the palms of Jecht's hand, and in an instant another group picked the now limp (but still conscious.) Jecht up and out the door, and later threw him back into his cell.

Lying still for a few long seconds Jecht stared at the box, scared to open it and see what's inside it. But soon this fear was replaced with a bitter curiosity as he took the lid off carefully.

Inside he found an amber coloured gauntlet of some sort, big enough to fit his hand snugly, it had a blade projector welded into the top of the glove, while sharp claws tipped every finger. A tear rolled down his left cheek as he came to realize what it is. His sadness was later replaced with a fury.

"That elite will die…" Jecht thought, his gloved hand turning into a fist. "For killing my father and the last defence of mankind, he shall pay…"

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OOC: Whoa, long chapter, this is what happens when i have time, i'll see if i can update soon, as for now. Time to answer some people.

Yokimo the hellbunny slayer: ((Whacks with a rubber glove.)) that should stop you babbling )

Ryu Issac: Your suggestion has been taken in and the previous chapter has been changed, thank you )

Dcastro: Thank you )