Part 14: A long talk
John
opened the mechanised door to the ships cockpit, and saw the Arbiter
stood, looking out of the Spirit's window. A melancholy look was upon
his face.
"What's up?" John asked tentatively, in the same kind tone he would speak to fellow Spartans in.
The
Arbiter didn't answer immediately, instead giving a long, drawn out
sigh. The Elite stared one last time at the asteroid cluster outside,
then looked down at his feet.
"Everything I have ever known has
been a lie." He said bitterly. "The Prophet's lied to me, lied to
everyone in the Covenant. They knew the truth about the Forerunners,
and possibly the Precursors, and they kept it from us. My education,
friendships, tactics; all these are based around a false religion. I
myself am nothing but a lie. I don't even have a name any more, that
was seen to by Truth. And he wrongly gave me this mark, nothing will
ever hide it."
There was silence for a few moments, then John spoke, placing an armoured hand upon his friend's shoulder.
"Well Arbiter, what is your name? You've never told me."
"...You
really want to know?" The Arbiter asked in a puzzled voice. "Very well,
once, I was known as Thel Vadamee', ruler of the state of Vadam; the
state you were imprisoned in incidentaly. Then everything changed when
I left for the Covenant. I was appointed Ship master, one of the
highest ranks a Sangheili could be blessed with, and I, in my stupor,
was blind to the blanket of lies the Prophet's were weaving around us.
I gave countless orders to kill, sometimes I even pressed the red
button myself. All in the name of the false Covenant."
Thel then gave a sobbed laugh, and looked up, facing John.
"I
must look pretty pathetic now mustn't I? But it's hard, carrying on
when you don't know anything about yourself any more. And now, I'm at
war with my brothers, killing them....It's just too much for me
Spartan, I don't know if I can do this any more."
John looked at him in the eyes, and spoke.
"Listen
Thel, we will get through this. It's all a horrible mistake. Our races
will form an alliance again soon, and everything will be fine."
There was a pause, and the two battle hardened warriors appraised each other. Then Thel spoke.
"I
know you're right Spartan, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm a
traitor. Alas, that is my fate. Moving along Spartan, did the Oracle
perchance say where this ship was headed?"
John was confused, Thel was the one piloting the ship.
"Well don't you know?" He asked of the Elite, and received a short shake of the head.
"Nay
Spartan, the Oracle input a set of co-ordinates into the Spirit when he
came on board. I have no idea where we are heading. A slip space jump
seems to be planned in an hour, but I'm not sure why we aren't using
the drive now."
"How strange. Anyway, I'm going to go talk to
Johnson for a bit. Will you be okay?" John received a nod of the head
in confirmation.
And the Spartan walked back through the door he
had entered. Thel gave another sigh, how had things become this bad?
Perhaps if he had stayed with his brother's, he would have been able to
stop the fighting. But it was too late now, and even his dear colleague
R'tas Vadum was against him.
To take his mind off of dreary
thoughts, Thel began cross referencing the co-ordinates with the ship's
navcom. Hopefully it would turn up some results.
*********************
Sirens
began wailing across the UNSC Soul of ice, and Marines rushed to the
Longsword and Short sword fighter jets in the hanger bay. From his
comfy seat in the Destroyer's observation deck, the recently appointed
Lord Eden observed calmly the incoming Elite ships. Ten of them, fully
armed to the brim.
Eden allowed himself a slight laugh, and
brought up to his eye level the Champagne he was drinking. He admired
the way the raging sunlight reflected off the glass' surface, and took
a sip. The alcohol was nearly 2000 years old, dating back to medieval
times. It tasted good.
Suddenly, the large intercom in the
corner of the room squawked, and the voice of a nervous man came out of
it, the quality was supreme, nothing but the best for him. It sounded
as if the man was in the same room as him, which of course was
impossible. No on entered Eden's observatory deck unless they had a
*** good reason to. Video calls from his wife that his aide held were
not classed as a good reason.
"Lord Eden sir, we've got ten ships heading down to Earth, your orders?" The man spoke.
Eden took another sip of his Martini, and reclined further back into his chair.
"What's
your name son?" He asked in a laid back tone, holding down the button
which turned on the microphone next to him on the old Georgian
mantelpiece, which was complete with a glossy sheen.
"Em....Lieutenant
Daniels sir, first class. I'm on board the London sir. Should I give
the order to the rest of the Orbital Defence Platforms to fire?"
When
Daniels said London, he had meant the Orbital Defence Platform that was
gridlocked into it's respective city. Eden felt a twinge of
homesickness, he'd been born in London.
"Fire at will
Leftenant", Eden said, doing away with the American way of saying the
rank. "No one is to be left alive, I want everyone on board those ships
killed."
There was silence as the young officer contemplated upon those orders, then spoke.
"Aye sir." The line went dead.
Lord
Eden put his feet up on the jewel encrusted footrest near him, and
waited for the fireworks. He didn't have to wait long. Soon, the stars
outside were blocked by metal rounds as every gridlocked Platform in
the Northmen equator fired their Mark V MAC guns at the threat. They
knocked clean through the shimmering energy shields of the Elite ships,
and tore through all ten. A few moments later, they all exploded in a
flash of blue thunder.
Eden clapped his hands in delight,
finishing of the Martini in a single go, and popping the olive in his
mouth. He loved the sight of a good explosion.
"Excellent work
Leftenant." He shouted boisterously down the microphone. "I think I'll
write you up a promotion to Captain. Yes, Captain Daniels, sounds
rather good doesn't it? Now, carry on with the good work. Oh, and order
our Zero-G troops to finish off any stranglers who may ave survived.
Eden out."
Before the Lieutenant could get in a word of thanks, Eden terminated the line once again.
He sighed in contentment, only 35 years old and already head of the UNSC forces. Life was good.
**********************
"So,
how exactly did you survive? That laser blast hit you full on." The
Master Chief asked Sergeant Johnson, as they both sat down together in
the corner of the ship.
Avery paused, and slowly stuck yet another cigar in his mouth. He began chewing in thought.
"Well Chief, let's just say I'm not just another marine." He replied wryly.
"I'll
say." John replied, referring to all of the times Johnson had saved his
ass since they first landed on Alpha Halo, all those months ago.
"No
no no, I don't mean skill wise. I mean physically." Came a frustrated
reply, and John smiled within his helmet. He'd managed to bait Johnson
into further conversation.
"Oh?" He said, innocently.
"Yeah, well, there's no easy way to put this Chief, but you won't believe me unless I tell you the story first."
The Spartan patiently awaited the story, and leaned forward, interested.
"Well,
back when I was young, I joined the corps. You yourself would have been
just a bit younger than me Chief. Anyway, when I signed up,, rather
than being shipped off to basic, I got assigned to a Project, named
Project ORION. I hadn't been told a great deal about it, but the pay
was good, and apparently I was an ideal candidate, whatever the hell
that meant."
"Anyway, I had to sign a whole bunch of
non-disclosure agreements, all of which I'm breaking right now. At
first, I and the other three hundred or so newly signed up soldiers
were just doing training, which for some reason was a lot harder and
more taxing than the training I've overseen since then. Also, we'd have
to study as well; we were taught by some smart A.I."
This sounded very familiar to John, and he got a strange feeling in his gut.
"Anyway,
a bit later on, they said they'd make us stronger, faster, and smarter
than the other Marines. But we'd have to volunteer for it, and not sue
if anything, and I quote "Was to occur during the safe procedure."
"I
accepted, as did most of the others. Anyway, they injected us with a
whole bunch of chemicals, and left us to stew for a little bit. But
apparently, something went wrong. Many of my friends were killed or
deformed, and I was one the few to make it out okay. Sure, like they
said I was stronger, faster, and smarter than the other marines, but
out of three hundred, only ten of us were left, 5 of whom were
deformed. Naturally, the Spooks overseeing the project were horrified
with the results. The project had been an utter and total failure."
"Anyway,
they pulled some strings with the UNSC, and got us reassigned to nice,
cosy positions in the corps. We were good, but we weren't the super
soldiers they'd hoped we would be. So they covered us up, and I became
Sergeant."
"As for Project Orion, it was put on hold. That is
until it was started up again by one Catherine Halsey. This time, she
said it would work. I was one of the few to know about it, still being
linked to the Project, and naturally I opposed it. No one listened. But
I guess the Doctor was right, it did work. After all, living prove of
that sits before me."
"Me?" John asked in confusion.
"Of
course. Ever wonder why I strived so hard to get along with you Chief,
despite the fact that behind your back, other Marines shunned you and
called you, no offence, a freak of nature? It's because I was glad to
see another like me. A newer model, admittedly, but still, I felt a
connection."
"You mean to say you're a Spartan?" John asked in disbelief.
Before Johnson could reply however, the Arbiter strode into the room, a satisfied look on his face.
"Spartan,
Sergeant, I ran the co-ordinates for the scheduled slip space jump
through the Spirit's Battle net, and I turned up some results.
Apparently, the destination is a human world, one which the Covenant
expressed a great deal of interest in."
"Well Arby, what's it called?" Avery said, standing up.
"According to the battle net, you humans call it Onyx.".
"This one has forgotten whether it's heatsink is over capacity. It wonders whether the criminal scum considers itself fortunate" ~ Blasto, the only Hanar Spectre.