Chapter 3: The Forging
"What!" spat Johnson, every human knew that their system was dubbed Sol.
"Do you know this location, human?" the Arbiter asked, his voice curious.
"It's our home system. It contains our homeworld - Earth." Keyes replies, her eyes still glued to the hologram.
The small hologram was puzzling, it seemed to be displayed in real time. Many dots were around the planet, with lines connecting some of them. Dots were dissapearing rapidly, and new dots occasionally appeared.
"This display is in real time! Earth is being attacked again!" she was almost yelling, every instinct told her that she should be home, fighting off the Covenant.
The Arbiter looked at her, and noticed the dots. He knew now that they were not his enemies, but equals. He would lend what little support he could. They also seemed to have an odd affinity with the Oracle, it was intriguing.
"Human-" the Arbiter said, who was quickly cut off by Keyes.
"I am Commander Keyes, that is Johnson, I would appreciate it if you would refer to us so."
She had seem to have came to the same conclusion as him, which was good.
"I am the Arbiter. And I have a proposal to make." his voice warbled on "to" which gave an odd comical releif.
"And what would that be, spli- Arbiter." Johsnson said, stopping midsentence.
The human was learning diplomacy, he was glad.
"I propose that we form an alliance. We must wipe the traitorous Prophets and their lap-dogs from existance!" he slammed his fist down on a nearby pillar, his shields flaired slightly as he did so.
"Well, Arbiter. I agree, but we will have a much harder time convincing our superiors.." Miranda said, trailing off into thought.
"Good," said the Arbiter, "An inbound phantom will be picking us up. Let me lead so that I may tell them about our alliance."
The monitor, clearly forgotten, had activated a small energy ramp, which lead back out of the chamber.
As they walked up the ramp, Johnson noticed a white Elite with a large headdress.
"What's the hat for?" he said, barely concealing a grin.
The Elite looked at him, and seeing that Johnson meant no disrespect, replied.
"It is my mark as a Councilor. I lead the Elites." he said, his voice swelling with dignity and pride.
"Our leaders hide in bunkers underground. I like your style." Johnson said.
The Elite looked taken aback at first, but thanked the Sargeant.
Dustoff
The Arbiter had gone ahead to tell the Phantom pilot and the troops aboard that the humans were not be harmed. They were allies now. The two marines Johnson had fought to the Scarab had not taken to the idea very well, their best friend had been killed by an Elite.
"Sir, why should we allie with them! They killed Greenback!" the Marine said, his voice shaking with anger.
"Because Marine! They are a fighting chance against the rest of those bastards!" he said, his voice rising as he did so.
"I hate them! And you should too!" the Marine yelled, his face growing red.
"I don't hate them! They were hoodwinked into beleiving that we were enmies, and now they want to rectify that mistake! We need all the help we can get!" Sarge said, his eyes trained upon the Marine.
The Marine looked at Johnson, and then to his friend, who shrugged.
"Fine - But I don't like it." the Marine said, his voice calming.
The Arbiter and Councilor pretended not to hear this arguement, they both knew how the Marine must feel.
The Arbiter had returned and informed them the Phantom was awaiting them.
As they walked towards the now fried entrance, they could here the tale-tell whine of the Phantoms Anti-Grav engines.
When they exited, there were two Spec. Ops Elites and 4 Spec Ops grunts waiting for them.
The Elites watched with knowing eyes, and the Grunts spoke in their native tongue to one another.
As the passed, Johnson noted that one Elite was missing the mandibles on the left side of its face.
As they entered the miniature grav-lift and were ushered upwards, the elite with only two mandibles spoke to the other Elites.
-
"They are to remain unharmed, if one of you so much as breaks their skin I will personally take your head."
The Elites clicked their mandibles to show an affirmative, and the Grunts nodded their heads slightly.
-
Aboard the Phantom Keyes and Johnson were already strapping themselves into the Elite sized harnesses. They fit moderately well, enough to keep them from thrashing around.
As the Arbiter came up the lift, he immediately went to the cock-pit of the Phantom and gave the pilot instructions. He then came back and seated himself across from Johnson, Keyes, and the Marines.
Keyes looked at the Arbiter, "Where are we going?"
"We are heading to the Elite flagship, the Mercy and Grace."
"How long until we get there?" she said, noticing a Grunt fiddling with anothers environmental suit.
"Approximately 15 human minutes" he said, tapping the Grunt on the head with the butt of his Plasma Rifle, the Grunt yelled "Agh!" and rubbed its head in the spot where it had been hit, shooting a repraochful look at the Arbiter before drifting off to sleep only a minute later.