Second Floor: Spartans, Brutes, and Lesser Prophets of Abiding Humility
Lucy had never been fond of Covenant design. The slick organic curves. The over saturated use of purple. These things had long since been assigned with negative connotations in her mind. Operation: TORPEDO had made sure of that. But beyond that, she fundamentally hated how aesthetically pleasing she actually found it to be. It stood in stark contrast to her feelings towards those who had built it. Those feelings made her want to hate it. To loathe everything about it. But she couldn’t. And that was the thing she hated most about it.
She crouched deeper into her hidey hole. The entrance to a duct designed for Engineer use. It lay out of the way in a shadowed alcove. The perfect place to disappear. Below her lay a wide spanning deck. Around it lay various different Forerunner artefacts, all suspended in Covenant gravity holders. The purple light of the energy projectors glinted dully off the burnished metal of the artifacts. Amongst them a couple of Brutes stood guard. Their attention split between the two doors that allowed access to the room. They were waiting for Demons.
At the centre of the room stood a slightly raised dais, on top of which floated a chair with a thin gangly creature cradled inside.“Has the excavation work been completed yet?” the Prophet asked a nearby Chieftain. The brute bowed. “Not yet holy one.” he replied. “The intervention of the human ship has delayed our-“
“I do not care for what the humans are doing.” the Prophet barked. “They are inconsequential.” The chieftain fell to one knee and hung his head. “Apologies holy one. We shall redouble our efforts.”
“Good. See to it that you do not fail me.” he said. “The others may cower and hide. But not I! Not when the great journey is so near at hand!”
“Once we recover the relic, all shall be as it should have been. We will rebuild the Covenant anew! And once our task is complete we shall unleash the divine wind to see us on the path once more!” The Brutes scattered around the room rose their heads in unison and roared approval at the prophets' words.
Lucy didn’t like the sound of this. They were zealots. All of them. And worse than that they were zealots with no handle on reality. They were all suffering from the same delusions of grandeur. Believing that just four ships and a single Forerunner relic could rebuild their lost empire. Lucy didn’t care how powerful the Forerunner had been. No single device could ever reform the Covenant. That was impossible.
“Lucy? You in position?” Tom asked her over teamcom. She sent a green light in affirmation.“Good.” he said. “Once the lights go out you start the party. I’ll be right behind you.” She sent another green acknowledgement light. “Sixty seconds starts now. Be ready.” His line went dead. Lucy shifted herself and prepared to leap down. She refocused on what the prophet was saying.
“-the Demons. Have they been dealt with yet?”
“No your holiness.” the Chieftain said carefully. “We have secured all major stations, but we know not what they seek.”
The Prophet seemed to consider that a moment. “They will likely be heading to capture the bridge or seize the reactors. If they succeed in taking either then they will be able to prevent the completion of our most holy mission.”
The brute bowed again. “I will see that they are killed before they can interfere with our sacred task.”
“See to it that you do. Time is against us in our work here. Every moment we delay is a moment the great journey slips further away from our grasp.”
“We will not fail you holy one! The demons shall be dealt with. The artefact shall be recovered. And the covenant will be reforged again!” The Brutes again chanted their appraisal of their Chieftain’s words with a chorus of deep throated bellows. It was at that moment, as they howled up into the air, that Tom made his move. The room vanished into darkness.
Lucy’s night vision kicked in immediately, painting the room in a sickly green glow. She didn’t waste any time dawdling. She had no intention of letting them get their collective bearings. Every moment they spent confused only improved her and Tom’s chances of success. She dropped down and landed at the edge of the room. Hefting her rifle, she started slugging head shots into the pack of confused brutes. A litany of angry cries raised in response and many of them began turning to and fro to try and locate the source of the cracking noise her gun was blasting.
Another set of gunshots began blaring on the far side of the room. Tom had certainly been quick on his feet. The two of them were making chum of the Brutes. Their numbers thinning rapidly. The smarter ones of the pack, few as they were, had been swift enough on the uptake to take shelter behind some of the artefacts, using them as cover against their unseen assailants.
A dull purple light filled the room as a shield enveloped itself over the dais, serving to protect the Prophet and his guardian Chieftain inside. In the dim light it provided, Lucy could see the outlines of Brutes breaking cover to fire back. She ducked behind a floating artefact herself as a flurry of spikes soared past her. Her left shoulder twinged as her arm began to lock up. She scowled and used the armour’s inbuilt stimulant system to force the muscles back into action. As the injection poured chemicals directly into her arm the pinching sensation stopped, and her arm became loose again. She would pay for it later. The damage to the muscles tissue would only build the more she forced it into service. But she had no other option. She had to stay operational. She needed to be able to fight.
Lucy pulled a scavenged plasma grenade and looked around the edge of the cylindrical style artefact she was pressed against. Another blast of needles swished past her. She ducked back, armed the grenade, and tossed it towards the source of the fire. Before it even landed, she dove sideways and slugged three rounds into the brute who was attempting to stumble away from the explosive. The sticky landed against one of the forerunner artefacts and detonated.
A blue and gold light swirled out of the damaged device. A holographic image attempted to materialise within the whirling lights, but seemed unable to fully actualise itself. It stuttered for a few seconds before the glowing swirls were sucked back inside the artefact which promptly fell dormant once again.
As weird as that had been, Lucy had seen stranger. Onyx had made sure that there was nothing left in the universe that would surprise her. It certainly wouldn’t interfere with her work. Her rifle clicked empty. She reached to grab a new mag and was abruptly blindsided by an enormous arm smashing into the side of her. It would seem the artefact had served to distract her ever so slightly after all. Enough at least to let the lumbering Brute get the drop on her.
Lucy was launched back onto the deck, scrambling quickly to get back to her feet. The Brute rounded on her, launching itself on top of her, knocking her immediately back onto the floor. It threw a punch at her. She grabbed its fist. The two struggled for supremacy, each pushing as hard against the other as they could. Lucy launched a swift blow with her other hand into the side of its head. The creature roared and reared back. It lifted both arms above it, intending to crush her beneath a single mighty blow. As fast as lightning Lucy reached down, grabbed her pistol, and levelled it at the Brute’s head just as its arms began to swing down. A single loud crack blasted from the magnum. It went clean through the brutes head. Its swing failed and it collapsed in a heap on top of her.
Lucy grunted loudly at the added mass weighing down on her. ‘Perks of the job.’ she quipped to herself. She groaned and with considerable effort heaved the corpse off of her. She didn’t even try to stand up, instead seeking new targets from where she lay with her pistol. But she found nothing. The room was quiet. Only the low hum of the shield projector filled the air. She looked over to see Tom standing a short distance clear of the shield, his gaze focused in at its occupants. A double orange blip lighted up in her helmet. She responded with a quick green blip back. Tom made an ever so subtle nod and started to talk.
“You are the lesser Prophet of Abiding Humility, correct?” he said. The Chieftain growled and put himself between the two. The San’shyuum said nothing. “I have orders to end your unprovoked attack on the human colony of Rhodes.”
“Do not lecture to me, Demon.” the Prophet said. “I am on a sacred and holy mission. Your interference is an act of heresy!”
Lucy got back to her feet and stalked around to stand on the opposite side of the shield from Tom. The Chieftain voiced his displeasure at being unable to shield the Prophet from both sides. “Command doesn’t really care what your mission is. They only need it to stop. ONI however are very interested in what you're up to. They are offering you safe passage off this ship in exchange for that information.”
The Prophet spat. “To suggest I would desecrate myself by making deals with vermin like you.”
Tom sighed. He activated the teamspeak line so only she could hear him. “Guess we do this the hard way. Be ready.” He activated his speaker system again. “Then per my orders I am forced to take you into custody. Willing or otherwise.”
The Prophet made a strange strangled noise. Lucy realised belatedly that it was laughing. “You will find nothing aboard this vessel demon but death. Your race is an ignorant blight. Your very existence offends all who walk the path! I will see that your entire species is purged before we complete our sacred journey!”
A NAV marker appeared in Lucy’s sight. It was positioned over the top of a jutting protrusion sticking out of the deck to her left. Tom had labelled it “Shield power conduit?” Lucy turned slightly and examined it more closely. It certainly resembled others she had seen aboard covenant vessels. Why the designers had thought to leave such a vital piece of equipment exposed like that was beyond her. She amended the label. “Probably?” Tom sent back a green light. His hand reached for his belt and the plasma grenade strapped there. Lucy tilted her gun subtly to aim at the conduit.
“Last chance to change your mind.” Tom said. “Surrender and you can walk out of here freely. Final offer.”
“Your very words are blasphemy!” it hissed.
Tom didn’t reply. Instead he tugged the grenade loose and lobbed it at the conduit. It stuck fast to it and exploded in a shower of blue lightning. Lucy opened up with her rifle at the impact site. The conduit sparked and sputtered for a second before exploding itself in a ball of blue and orange fire. The shield collapsed and the room fell back into darkness. The muzzle flash of Tom’s gun outlined him as he blasted the charging Brute Chieftain. Lucy rushed forward herself, her night vision kicking back in again, and jumped up onto the Prophet’s anti-gravity chair. She pulled her knife free and placed it around his neck. The creature had never even had a chance to react.
“Stop!” she bellowed with all the command she could muster. “Or the holy one dies!”
Tom has vanished behind one of the artefacts and the Brute had seemingly been about to charge him down. It turned and faced her. Even in the dark she could feel his eyes piercing her. He roared in challenge and moved towards them.
“Tell it to stop.” she hissed at the Prophet. He snarled in response to her. But he was not so stupid as to not realise the situation. “Halt!” he cried. The Chieftain stopped dead in its tracks and lowered itself into a crouch.
“Good.” she said. “Now tell him to go and stop the glassing.”
That seemed to override whatever common sense the Prophet possessed. “Do not dare to try and interfere with our holy mission, Demon!” he spat. “What we do is-“ she pressed the knife closer to his neck.
“I don’t care about your mission. Order him to go stop the glassing. Or you’ll never live long enough to complete your great journey.”
Strange hissing noises escaped the prophet as he seemed terribly divided on what to do. Lucy decided to make the decision easier for him. She pressed the knife in just enough to draw a thin trickle of blood. He yelped in response and barked orders. “Cease the cleansing! Halt the excavation!” he blurted out. She watched as the chieftain begrudgingly rose back up to his feet.
“It will be done.” the Brute grinded out. Tom had re-emerged behind him, his weapon levelled with the Brute’s head. Lucy could see the grip the Brute had on his hammer. His fist so tightly clenched she was amazed he hadn’t snapped the handle. But despite the Prophet’s instruction he remained stationary. His gaze fixed on Lucy.
“You heard the holy one!” Tom snapped. “Go tell them to stop glassing!” The Chieftain growled at the order, but turned and walked over to a deactivated terminal. The blinking lights and holo displays lit the room up at his touch. “Stop the excavation.” he growled into the device.
“Tarbus!” a voice cried back in response. “Surely you jest! We are so close to uncovering the-“
“Are you questioning my authority!” he barked angrily. “Are you questioning the will of the Prophet!”
“No!” the voice replied. “Never!”
“Then cease operations immediately!” There was a two second pause. “It will be done chieftain.” The Brute rose away from the terminal and turned back to face the rest of them. “It is done, holy one.” he said with a bow.
“Good.” Lucy said. “Now. Me and my fellow Demon here are going to be taking the holy one here on a little trip.” The Chieftain growled threateningly. “And!” Lucy continued. “We’ll be leaving aboard one of your dropships. So go get one ready for our departure.” A silence fell upon the room. The Brute gave no discernible reaction. His silhouette highlighted in the light of the console. Tom shuffled slowly around him. Only the haggard wheezing of the Prophet filled the darkened room.
A priority communication request beeped in her ear. She could see that it had been sent to Tom as well. She accepted the call patching the caller into their teamspeak.
“Spartans?” said Wanzay. “Status? The cruiser’s ventral beam just went silent.”
“Affirmative.” Tom replied. “We have the Prophet secured and are negotiating exfiltration.”
“Negotiating? Do you have the Prophet in custody or not?”
“Affirmative.” Lucy replied. “I have him secured at knife point. However, his followers are less than willing to allow us to leave.” There was a moment’s pause. “Understood Spartan. Negotiations will no longer be necessary however. I am providing an alternate.”
“Sir? Specify?”
“Instruct the crew to lower their shields. Then acquire clearance for a dropship to access their port side hangar bay. Escort the prophet on board and bring him back to the Mesa.”
“Sir I’m not entirely sure that this course of action is possible. I would suggest-“ Tom began.
“Spare me your professional opinion soldier.” Wanzay intoned condescendingly. “Now acknowledge receipt of orders.” Lucy couldn’t see Tom’s face. But she knew he was rolling his eyes. Wanzay may as well have just asked them to gift wrap and put a bow on the Prophet as well. As if it was going to be that easy.
“Spartans.” he said warningly. “Acknowledge orders.”
“Acknowledged sir.” Tom replied flatly.
“Acknowledged sir.” Lucy said dryly.
“Good. Relay back to me once we have clearance.” The line clicked dead. Lucy squeezed her free hand in frustration. The Brute hadn’t moved since the commander had contacted them. The Prophet himself was starting to squirm beneath her. She gave a mental sigh and flared her nostrils. “Alright.” she said pretending as though the conversation she had just been a part of had never occurred. “I can see you are disinclined to part with one of your ships. Let me offer you a new deal.”
Before she could continue the lights in the room snapped back on. Her helmet responded instantly, polarising to near total darkness, sparing her eyes. The Prophet and the Chieftain were not so equally lucky. The Brute slammed his free hand over his eyes. The Prophet lifted his shawl over his face to block the sudden barrage of light. Multiple Brutes, Jackals, and Grunts swarmed into the room from every direction. Lucy clutched the knife a little tighter. Tom fell back to stand on the dais beside her.
The Chieftain started to laugh. A harsh guttural noise. “Nowhere to run, Demons.” He rose back to his full height and lifted his hand off his face, blinking at them through bloodshot eyes.
“And neither does he.” Tom said pointing his rifle at the Prophet. That earned a clamorous uproar of disapproval from the forces lining up around them. The Chieftain grunted in his own frustration. “Free the holy one.” he barked. “And we may let you leave here alive.”
"Sounds like a bad deal to me.” Tom said. “Let me offer a counter proposal.” Another clamorous roar of descent filled the room. Lucy scanned them. If they decided to attack them there was nothing either of them could do. Only the squirming bag of flesh she held shielded them from that fate. Her arm began to form a slight twinge again. The drugs were starting to wear off. She grimaced to herself. “Drop your shields.” Tom continued. “Allow one of our own dropships to land on board. Then we leave with the holy one here and go on our merry way. Square deal?”
A couple of the Brutes snapped their jaws loudly but a motion from the Chieftain stopped them. He looked solely at the prophet. “What is your will holy one?” he asked. The Prophet stopped squirming at the address and became seemingly poised once more. But Lucy could feel the slight tremble still subtly wracking his body.
“We can not allow our holy mission to be halted. Our sacred journey is only just beginning. We must be ready to weather any hurdles we may encounter.”
Lucy wasn’t sure where he was going with this. But she decided to remind him of the situation by warbling the blade against his neck. A silent half choke escaped him before he continued talking. “Allow the humans their vessel. I will journey with them and uncover why they dare to interfere with our divine tasking. Then I shall return and we shall complete what we have begun. The darkest hours often preceded the dawn brothers. And I know the light of a new day will soon shine upon our Covenant!”
The crowd of aliens erupted with excited cheering. ‘Fanatics.’ Lucy thought to herself. ‘They can’t even see the reality of what’s actually happening here. They just trust his word blindly. Ignoring what their own eyes tell them.’
She looked at the Chieftain. He wasn’t celebrating. He understood precisely what was happening, but was powerless to stop it. “Tarbus.” the Prophet said. “Take command in my absence. See to it that things are ready upon my return.” The Brute bowed. “Yes holy one.” he replied emptily.
Tom opened their teamspeak. “I don’t know how we just managed that. But I’m not going to complain.” Lucy sent a green blink back in reply. She leaned forward to the Prophet’s ear. “Enough showmanship.” she whispered warningly. “Time to go.”
He gave a short hiss back at her before activating the controls on his hovering throne. It began accelerating forward off the dais. Tom jumped down and kept up pace bedside them. The crowd of Covenant parted before them, still cheering loudly for their beloved holy one. The Brute that she now knew as Tarbus did not however, instead falling in step beside them as well. As they proceeded out of the room and into the ship’s corridors, Tom opened a communication line outside the ship.
“Commander?” he asked. There was a brief silence before Wanzay answered. “Go ahead Spartan.” he said.
“We have acquired permission for docking and are proceeding with the Prophet to the port side hanger bay.”
“Outstanding work.” he said. Lucy was taken aback for a moment. Actual praise. “The Pelican is lifting off now. ETA three minutes. Contact me again once on board and in transit.” The line clicked dead.
“I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve heard him say yet.” Lucy muttered.
"It might be the nicest thing he’s ever said.” Tom muttered back.
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