I know it has been awhile between my last chapter. I am having a rather busy time with all my homework, and also midterms are coming up. I just don't think I can give you guys the quality chapters that you deserve. So, regrettably, I must have a bit of downtime (hiatus).
I tried to squeeze in a bit of all the characters so you wouldn't miss them so much! ;) Thanks for reading, and enjoy!
\/\/\M/\/\/
Aww…fuckinbuckets. Missy rubbed her eyes. She felt like shit. Worst sleep she had ever had. Vaclavik was already awake. Probably checking on patients. That meant it was time for her to get some food. Food. Her mouth watered at the thought. Real, food. Well, more real than those REM's…
It would be good to see her old friends again too. Oh, how she'd missed this!
When she opened the tent flap she was hit with a blast of hot air. Wiping the already accumulating sweat off her forehead she stepped into the large mess hall. I must have arrived here earlier than I thought… Usually the mess hall was swarming with marines eating, talking, arm-wrestling, and holding "manly" burping contests.
But, so far as she could tell there were maybe 3 others in here. She had kind of been expecting a little bit more of a greeting party to be honest…but, that wasn't that big of a deal. Besides, there's a war going on. Everybody needs to be keepin a close eye on the enemy. Still, the feeling continued to nag her.
Her mood did a 180 when she heard a familiar voice. "Be sure that meat is cooked to regulation! And when I say regulation I mean I wanna see it nice and crispy! These boys deserve the best we can give 'em!" Corporal Herat was giving orders? When did that happen?
Missy stood waiting by the counter, leaning over to try and get a peek at what was going on in the kitchen. Finally, she saw the lovable guy round the corner.
He's changed so much. Herat looked older than when she had last seen him. His dark skin seemed to take on a gray tint, and heavy dark bags hung under his eyes. She felt completely shocked when the bedraggled man suddenly broke into a wide grin and pulled her into a huge hug over the counter, almost pulling her over.
If I didn't have augmented bones, I'm pretty sure he would have broken a couple. After strangling the air from her in his monster of a hug, he let her go. "Missy! There's my girl! How come I didn't hear about you comin' back?"
"I just got in, and then spent the rest of my time at the medical tent." She paused after seeing his face turn haggard.
"Yeah, the last skirmish roughed us up pretty good." Absently he rubbed his left hand. It seems that he even saw some action. Where there should have been a hand was a rather crude metal appendage. It looked to be made out of spoons and forks…
Herat must have seen her staring, but he gave a bellowing laugh to lighten the mood. "Yep. One of those bastards clean ate my hand! Nasty bird-looking thing you woulda been scared to death hun. Apparently he didn't realize that being a chef means you only cook the food." He gave a shaky laugh to try and ease the tension as he twisted the hand around a bit, making the makeshift digits whir slightly while flexing. "Your pal Huddy made it. It's little rough. But a hand is a hand, and being the new Mess Sergeant means I gotta lot I need to do with my hands!"
"Wait…what happened to Winters?" She remembered the big McCarthyistic man. He wasn't a favorite of hers, on account of him labeling her an insurrectionist because she had had to give him a vaccination. He had claimed "That doc's putting tiny transmitters in us! Why else would everybody have to get one? I'm telling ya, by next week the insurrectionist scum is gonna show up right on our doorstep." Of course, they had never come. But, despite his negative qualities and hysterics, he was a part of the base.
"Ah, Winters…" His bright eyes clouded over in deep thought. His bushy brow furrowing. She felt bad for bringing up the subject instantly, but she had never thought the two cooks had liked each other. "That old gas-bag died of a clogged artery. Go figure. And, you know…being the only other respectable chef around here meant I got the promotion. So, this is my mess hall. Heh, guess that means I got my wish to manage my own "restaurant" huh?"
The Spartan bit her lip, not really sure what to say to that.
Herat changed back to his smiley self in a flash, "Whelp! You came in here for food didn't cha? I'll go fix you up a plate."
Everything feels so different here. How bad was the attack? The three marines that had been in here before she arrived had already left, leaving the mess hall strangely empty.
Herat came back with a plate piled high with a variety of steaming fresh food, but she felt like she had a rock in her stomach. "He-Herat? How…bad was it?"
The hearty chef's weak smile disappeared. He sighed as he put the plate down on the counter. "Hun, you might want to take a seat."
/\/\/V\/\/\
After another long trek up those prophets-forsaken steps the grunt brought him back to the dividing hallway.
The smell of the morgue was as gruesome as ever, and Voro' just wanted to get away quickly. As he headed for the stairs to go back up he noticed the grunt was not following.
Nurse stood in front of the morgue hallway, his knees knocking. "Grun-Nurse, I would really like to get my armor as soon as possible."
The little grunt hiccupped a bit and then squeaked "It's in the morgue."
"Why is it in the morgue?"
The little grunt started to slowly creep down the hallway, "I don't know. Mistress moved it. I don't know where exactly it is, but I know it's in there."
Voro' sighed heavily and pushed past his frightened escort.
After a moment he was pleased to hear the pitter-patter of the grunt finally following. Nurse scuttled past him, skipping around his slow awkward gate.
Another click from a heavy metal switch turned on more damnably bright lights.
Metal examination tables and counters were covered with thin, stained, white sheets. He could guess what lie beneath based on the strange bumps and curves. Purple blotches colored a few of the covered corpses, but some were orange, a few were light blue…and many were red.
At this he did do a double take, "Her own kind?"
Nurse did not look at the veiled forms; he just got busy looking in various boxes and crates. He gave a very bland reply of "Yeah. But some of them we just keep here to cremate."
Some of them. Briefly he wondered how many dead bodies his host had toyed with. The thought was disturbing…he couldn't imagine a Spartan warrior playing mad scientist. In fact it just didn't seem normal for any kind of human. Although, admittedly, Missy was not what he would call normal.
He examined a particularly small red-stained cloth to his right. Curiosity buzzed at the back of his mind, he felt an impulse to look under the ghostly sheet. And, when Nurse wasn't looking, he peeked under.
He wasn't sure why, but his hearts felt like they had just jumped into his throat.
He knew the horrors of war…he had done some nasty things himself. But there was something about a dead child…no matter the species, that made him feel….sickened.
It was so small. So frail. It looked like many of the humans he had killed before, but miniaturized and it had an absurdly large head. Thick brown curls were matted with blood, its eyes closed in eternal sleep. Its chest clearly showed the cause of death, plasma rifle burns and residue flecked the hole there.
This was no enemy, not even a possible threat. There was no need to kill this…child.
He felt disgusted with whoever might have killed this defenseless whelp.
But The Covenant glasses planets. More than a couple children died then.
The thought kind of caught him off guard. He had only ever had to kill or be killed; he never really put much thought into the defenseless. It was an unsettling thought.
Sighing he, carefully, settled the sheet back over the lifeless body.
Why are we fighting this war again? For some reason, he couldn't seem to remember anymore.
From deeper within the morgue he heard the little grunt squeal "Found it!"
Desperate to escape his thoughts, he hobbled toward the sound of the grunt's voice and found his armor strewn across a counter. And piled high on other tables were jackal, elite, hunter, grunt, and human armor. All of it blood soaked and worse for wear.
"This is good. I can use this." He studied his armor, taking note that it had been cleaned and laid out carefully. "I require tools for my task. Does Missy have any human or Sangheili tools?"
Nurse went over to another work bench and with a groan, picked up a very heavy looking, carry-supply unit. "Mistress said she found this next to a banshee and a pilot. Said she was going to give it to her friend…Huddy. Guess, she forgot."
Voro' was never really good with the whole pilot gig, but he was however decent at repairs and replacement. The tools were worn and well-used, but he could certainly do it.
"So…what did you want all this for?" Questioned the little alien.
After grabbing a nearby crate and plopping himself down near the counter, he replied matter-of-factly "Building a new leg."
}}}X{{{
So…I get to pick three teammates huh?
Not like anyone voluntered to help him.
Slowly he scanned the crowd that stood before him. Many of the higher ranks tried their damnedest to not look miffed…but he had a tendency to see right through that guise. Many were silently spitting on him, angry that he was chosen and not them.
Not, like I want to go off and die. Can't say much about these fools. He turned back around, pacing the other way, drawing this out so he could pick out those that would be impatient or hard headed. Now let me see…where are my flinchers?* If he was going to pick someone, he'd rather it be someone strong, yet manipulative. Easily disgusted, but perhaps a little ignorant.
His amber eyes locked on a promising flincher.
"You, there…" He pointed toward a rather large elite and asked lightly "What is your name?"
The bruiser swiveled his head to the right then left, making sure he meant him. He bellowed, "Ugh…my name is Haer' Nenilee."
Ah, another no name. I don't think I could've chosen better. "Haer' my brother, I wish to have your company in bringing Voro' Tuyokee back safely. Be warned, it will be a most difficult task." The prideful fool puffed up at the challenge.
Haer' looked to his more intelligent comrades for assurance. They shot him looks that clearly stated "No." Haer' was obviously too thickskulled and unable to take the hint. He put his fist over his hearts, bowing his head in respect "Of course. Brother, I will fight for you."
Politely he gave thanks, smiling inwardly, and then continued his search. Maybe I will try a different approach. Something to weed out the feeble. A truly wonderful plan came to his mind in an instant.
Xarrel' splayed his jaws in his signature grotesque smile, making sure they all got a good long look at his twisted, broken mandible. The crowd couldn't help staring like blathering idiots. But there were a select few, that had to turn their heads away. Out of the few he remembered in particular, a short, skinny Sangheili. Doubly weak. His smile stretched wider until his mandible ached.
"You." His poor target looked up in an instant, feeling his gaze. "Me-e?" His voice was a strange shrill that made his ears hurt. Very odd for a Sangheili. "Yes, you. What is your name?"
The pathetic excuse for a Sangheili clicked his top mandibles repeatedly in distress "I-I'm… Inol' Yatatee." Hmm...His family is known for their skilled eyes and practiced patience. A sniper…not what he had in mind, but he'll do.
"Join me Inol' it would be an honor to have you on my team. Together, I know we will be victorious."
The boy shuffled his feet lightly then mumbled, pressing a thin hand to his chest, "I am honored. I will serve to the best of my abilities." You'd better.
Xarrel' nodded. I have my bruiser, my weakling…now maybe some cannon fodder. He looked over to the small pack of grunts off to the side of where the Sangheili stood attention. They at least hid their feelings quite well. He liked that.
They all looked completely alike. They all wore black armor, and they all were about the same height, they even looked to be about the same weight.
He slowly started to show his smile…but got absolutely no reaction from the hardened soldiers.
Plan B then. Eeny, Meeny, Minyyyy…Moe. His gaze landed on the one in the second row, second to last.
"Grunt, come with me." No formalities were needed here. The grunt bowed his head deeply, and then took off to pack his things.
Ahh. I'm actually starting to get excited about this mission...bet that won't last long.
. . .
While the team was preparing their weapons and armor, he thought he might do a bit of digging into the situation. No one had even thought to try and question the guards more thoroughly.
Our brothers would never lie to us…they would never hold back anything. Ptah. He was not so naïve. He was going to find out just what they knew. One way or another.
The medical pod was mostly empty besides a few grunts and jackals. There were Sangheili beds in the back section, but only a few. Most Sangheili would rather die than be in a medical pod.
But because the guards had been knocked unconscious they were placed here. No loss of honor, Prophets forbid!
When he got close enough, he activated his camouflage. Not supposed to do that in camp…but what are they going do about it? Carefully he slunk towards the two and listened to the conversation they were having.
"Yeah Bro. I heard that creep got put on the mission."
"Creep? Who…"
"Oh, come on man. You can't tell me you don't know who I'm talkin' about."
"Erhm…No..I…"
There was a loud smack as skin slapped skin along with a small yelp of pain. "Idiot. Xarrel' Thallemee got put on the mission! The bro with the funky mandible?"
No reply.
"Special operations minor, worked with Voro'?"
Still nothing.
"The fucking psychopath!" The one snarled.
"Oooh! Right man, I gotcha… Wait, the psycho got the job?"
Another smack followed by a louder "Ouch!"
This is getting me nowhere. The only thing it was doing was making him angry.
He crept back out of view and turned off his cloaking. Making sure no one had seen him.
Then he walked right on in, acting as if he hadn't just heard them call him unsavory names. They were both minors, the only noticeable difference between the two was that one was a dark blue-gray while the other a tan. They both appeared a little stunned by his sudden presence…good.
"Brothers, I need to speak with you on a certain delicate matter." Xarrel' activated the door, causing it to slide shut with no more than a whisper. They label me a psychopath? I guess I need to live up to my status.
The two idiots exchanged curious glances before swiveling back to him. "Uh…sure man." started the blue-gray. He appeared to be the smarter of the two, although they were still both insolent fools.
Xarrel' sat down on one of the terribly uncomfortable beds. "Now, I need to know everything that happened."
Right away the dumb, tan one piped "We don't remember anything! We were knocked out by…something." He turned back to his comrade, as if for affirmation. The smart one flared his top mandibles ever so slightly out of anger. Hmm…interesting.
Xarrel' got off the bed and casually strolled over to one of the medical stations in the corner. Various violet metal tools and utensils lay in neat perfect lines. "Your cooperation will be greatly appreciated. I ask that you tell me the whole truth."
He turned around slowly, brandishing a rather sharp curved instrument. He held it up to the light, as if interested in a better view. Making sure they got a good eyeful of him toying with the deadly device.
The smarter one visibly swallowed, his mandibles gently gnawing at the air.
The dumb one was practically hyper-ventilating.
Xarrel' put the blade down, earning him a sigh from his suspects…only to grab a bigger blade and stalk towards the smart one.
He moved with predatory speed. In an instant he pinned the blue-gray guard, and shoved the blade in between his mandibles, prepared to slice if he made a peep.
The dumb one was well…dumbfounded, as he had predicted.
"Utter a single whimper and I will lodge this into your brain." He pricked the smart one lightly with the shapr point, making the victim under him squirm. But he made no sound. Xarrel' retracted his blade, but only slightly.
Assured that the smart one would comply, Xarrel' spun toward the dumb one and landed a full force sucker-punch to his face. The dumb one's head snapped back violently, and he lay slumped in his bed. One less to worry about.
"Doma'? Do-" Xarrel' quickly turned back to the suspect.
He trailed the device lightly across the skin inside the other's mandibles, trailing it out of his mouth, and rested its razor edge against the sensitive vein in his throat.
He looked deep into his dull brown eyes and whispered hurriedly "Your friend is only asleep. Tell me what I want to know, unless you want the both of you to end up in a much worse condition." To make his point, he ran the blade over his victim's jugular, harder than before, and in excruciating slowness. Drawing just a tiny amount of blood.
"Y-you're insane! F-fine! Just, stop it!" His smile returned and, he had to admit, it was a truly psychotic grin.
\/\/\N\/\/\
"No." Nurse scolded, then bopped the Jackal lightly on the head…yet again.
Why they always did this, he would never understand. They were intelligent beings but every time you put a cast on them they would attempt to gnaw it off. Nurse had tried many, many, many, many times to talk to them, explain that this was ok. But it was like some kind of instinct or something.
The Jackal blinked dully at him again, its mouth just starting to open as it bent its head to attempt to gnaw at the cast engulfing its right arm, yet again. "No." Another bat on the head.
He turned back to his reading, keeping one eye on his patient. The book was a lovely primitive thing he had to admit. Made with semi-flexible wood and a bit of worn brown leather backing, it looked antique and held a charming quality. And truth-be-told, he kind of liked the feel of turning the pages.
Although, as he peeked at the wealth of medical and technological scrawl, he felt guilty. He had been told never to look for this particular book or read it.
But why not?
Delicately he traced a blunt claw over the human indented text that read: Orion Project: SPARTAN-II. He saw no reason why he couldn't read it. He was Mistress' apprentice after all. She had said so herself! And he would think she trusted him…he did clean her up after she came home with Splits.
And besides, he had learned so much about his Mistress' medical know-how! He had never known she was so brilliant. He knew that she herself was a Spartan…but he had never dreamed that his Mistress was the one who co-created the Spartans!
He felt great pride in being her apprentice.
"No." Bop. This time he gave the Jackal an angry glare, then turned back to his reading. Finished with neural interfacing and programing, now on to the next…
Blank. The next page was blank. Confused, he turned the next page, blank. There had to be about 100 pages left…why were these pages blank?
He flipped through out of curiosity. Blank. Blank. Blank, blank, blank, blankblankblanblanbla…
He was halfway through and there was still nothing!
He grumbled angrily. He thought there might be more in this book than just that tid-bit of information.
A strange tearing sound made him turn to his patient. "Damn it! Stop chewing on your cast you idiot!" He bopped the Jackal a little harder on the head this time; the cast had an ugly tear down the side from its sharp teeth.
In his haste, the book fell to the floor spine-down. When he looked back at it he noticed a page he had not previously seen before…nearer to the back.
Suddenly, Splits poked his head into the medical cube. "Is there something wrong?" He walked in, and stood off to the side, looking like he wanted to help.
Nurse did not want his help tho… Wait a minute, walking, standing…"Splits! You can walk!"
He hadn't put much worry into Splits tinkering with the armor, because honestly he didn't think the large alien would be able to actually build a leg. Wait…he can walk now, he can run, he can catch, he can kill. Nurse's knees were knocking together at the thought but he kept his face blank, remembering when Mistress had told him he was brave. I am brave.
The large alien smiled and extended the rather crude looking robotic limb out for a better view. "It's not great, but it'll do." It appeared to not be made of just his original armor either. Several different colored parts and pieces were all meshing to form a cohesive working unit. It looked out of place next to his glossy, streamlined, ebony armor.
Nurse was not particularly interested in the monster's new mode of transportation, instead he went back to trying to fix the stupid Jackal's cast. Just try and pretend like nothing is different… "What's this?" The little alien turned, his eyes widening when he saw the large alien looking over the Spartan book. Nurse dropped what he was doing and sprinted over to the elite.
Boldly he jumped up and snatched it from his big claws. "This…this is my…my diary. Don't read it!"
Splits seemed unfazed, eyes burning with curiousity "It was written in human script…"
Nurse pulled a story from the air, "I am practicing my writing. I am going to help Mistress with human patients one day, I need to know how to write human."
Whether the elite had gotten the chance to read the books actual title, Nurse was uncertain of. His heart was thumping in his chest.
He clung on to it with his life, knowing that if Splits really wanted it, he could now beat him to a pulp. Every beat of his heart he repeated I'm brave...I'm brave..I'm brave. The two stood in agonizing silence for what felt like an eternity.
The elite looked him over carefully, sizing him up…then sighed.
"You saved me." Looking a little abashed, he then turned and walked back out of the cube with his new odd, mechanical gate.
Whether that was appreication, an explanation, or an accusation, Nurse could not tell. One thing was for certain: he would have to hide this book and then…
"Stop chewing your cast!" He bonked the Jackal on the head with the heavy book this time, knocking it unconscious.
*Refer to Chapter "A New Player"
Don't worry guys, I really mean it. I will be back. I want to thank all you lovely reviewers that have given me such wonderful compliments and critiques throught this story. I really appreciate the time you put into reviewing. Please continue to read and review my story. Until next time.
-Love, Sterella