- soulguard
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- Exalted Mythic Member
The three phantoms quickly approached the landing dock of the Life and sacrifice, and immediately the strike team noticed the numerous human vehicles aboard. Pelicans, scorpions and warthogs lined the edges of the deck. As the three phantoms prepared to land, several elites and humans quickly filled the bay; all armed and ready to defend the ship if necessary. Two of the phantoms roared forward and began to unload its full crew of elites and grunts, must of which bore the black armor of the Special Operations. Aboard one of the phantoms was a hunter pair, for extra firepower, but the third phantom hovered and waited.
From the group of elites and humans stepped two individuals, Lieutenant Gridolee and Sergeant Eric Raynord.
“Lieutenant Gridolee?” The head elite from the phantom questioned. “I see you are still the biggest, yet youngest, of us all.”
“Belmaeda.” Gridolee stated firmly. “My mentor, at has been far too long since we have greeted each other.”
“I agree, and I never would have imagined you to stand side by side with a human.” Belmaeda firmly returned.
“This sergeant has gained some honor with me.” Gridolee nervously replied. “I have the battle scars to justify it.”
“Very good, sergeant, you must be quite skilled to give Gridolee a worthy duel.” Belmaeda stated to Eric.
“We worked out our differences.” Eric stated with a quick nod.
Belmaeda returned the nod and turned toward the third phantom, and stated into his com, “If Gridolee lives, then all is secure. He would rather die then betray us.” The third phantom quickly descended and another group of black armored grunts leapt from the small gravity lift, but only grunts.
“Why were those grunts deployed without a commander?” Gridolee questioned.
“They have a commander, lieutenant.” Belmaeda quickly stated. “Bare in mind their markings.” Gridolee looked closely and noticed the all eight of the grunts were marked with the purple bar of the Mirratord. His shock was apparent to everyone, and soon every elite and grunt aboard the Life and Sacrifice was watching the Mirratord grunts waddle to the front of the strike team. As the small band of grunts approached the group, one of them seemed to stand taller then the others and carried himself proudly, not nervous or timid. He moved with an awkward swiftness that left everyone, including the humans, with odd looks on their faces. His black armor was decorated with odd unggoy symbols of ancient times and nearly every grunt that saw him wanted to come closer to him. He immediately gained the attention of every stationed grunt aboard the Life and Sacrifice and they all feverishly pressed closer toward him, but kept a respectable distance.
Belmaeda stepped forward and nodded his head toward the highly decorated grunt that approached him. Although the grunt was a few inches taller then the rest he was still tiny compared to the massively tall elites.
Belmaeda showed much respect to the tiny creature and stated, “Sergeant, we can begin the inspection, but I doubt that we will find any brutes amongst this crew.”
“Sergeant?” Gridolee roared in disapproval. “My mentor, please tell me you do not take orders from this grunt?” Belmaeda looked at Gridolee with an eye that could have torn his very soul from his body, but he held his peace. He stepped closer to Gridolee and stiffened his posture to appear taller then the young lieutenant.
“You have gained a ranking that is higher then my own, but there is much you can not understand in your youthful ways, Gridoloee.” Belmaeda sternly stated. “It shames me that you would disrespect a fellow officer that has earned the rank of sergeant. Show the proper respect for Sergeant Palab.”
“He no need to.” Palab stated in the familiar muffled tone of his methane re-breather. The grunt stepped around Belmaeda and looked up at Gridolee. “Me no have nothing to prove to him. Take us to captain, there is much that must be discussed.”
Gridolee showed no respect to the grunt sergeant before him, ignoring him completely.
Eric stepped beside Gridolee and addressed Palab. “Sergeant, I’m third in command of the Life and Sacrifice, because of our unusual partnership. I’ll take you and your squad to the bridge. But I have to agree with Gridolee, a grunt in command is fairly odd.”
“Me know, me deal with it everywhere.” Palab returned. He looked to Belmaeda and quickly began to issue orders. “Squad will stay and check ship. Belmaeda, divide team, basic deck by deck search. Station guards at phantoms and radio if there are troubles.”
“Sir, you should not venture alone.” Belmaeda calmly replied. “These elites are not aware of your status, and will not treat you with the proper respect you have earned.”
“Me be fine.” Palab returned as he began to waddle toward the landing deck exit. “Me must earn respect, not have bodyguard everywhere me go.”
“As you command, sir.” Belmaeda stated softly. His concern for Palab was once again tossed aside. He waited until Palab and the human Sergeant left the landing deck and he quickly turned to the other strike team members. “You heard the Sergeant and his words are the law. Form standard teams of three grunts and two elites. Leave no crate unturned, and open every ammo bin. Nothing foreign must be allowed near our home. The treachery of the prophets knows no limit.” The squad quickly divided, but the spec ops grunts remained at the phantoms as the guards. The humans watched quietly as the group searched every container on the landing deck, including their own supplies, but they were ordered not to interfere.
Belmaeda approached Gridolee, scornfully glaring at him and began to rebuke him in their native tongue. “As your mentor, I am ashamed. It was my recommendation to the elders that granted you the privilege of joining the Mirratord, despite their warnings of your aggression. Your skill has served this ship well, as is noted by your rank, but that does not make you better then any other creature. I taught you to respect any and all creatures, either friend or foe, but your actions today have not only shamed you, but shamed me as well.”
“Forgive me, my mentor.” Gridolee sulked. “I agree that I am not the warrior you have trained me to be, but I did not mean to bring shame to your teachings.”
Belmaeda sighed and placed his hand upon the young warrior’s massive shoulder. “You are young, Gridolee, and you have not seen death on the scale that I have. Your entire service has been aboard ships, but if you had ground experience you would know the sacrifices the grunts have made toward our cause. But you are not alone. There are countless others that see them the way you do.”
“My mentor, what has given this grunt such respect within your eyes?” Gridolee questioned.
“That grunt is a descendent of a long line of grunt leaders.” Belmaeda replied as he walked toward a nearby container. “The last of his lineage to lead the grunts was killed by the last Arbiter, and since then his bloodline has been carefully watched.”
“The last Arbiter?” Gridolee pondered. “If I recall my Mirratord studies correctly, the last Arbiter died of his injuries during the Grunt Rebellion, which was lead by the King of the Grunts.”
“Yes.” Belmaeda stated. “Palab is a direct descendent of the king’s bloodline. And more importantly, his skill at combat is bested only by the Major, but I believe even the Second would have trouble defeating Palab.”
“You believe that this grunt could defeat Simyaldee in combat?” Gridolee questioned with a doubtful chuckle. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You can ask the Second when we land, but he will tell you the same.” Belmaeda replied. “Remember, the last Arbiter eventually died of his injuries from fighting the last grunt King. The grunt king was ferociously formidable in battle.”
“Then what you are saying is that this grunt is the Messiah that the grunts have been waiting for.” Gridolee added with annoyed whim. “The legendary grunt that will unite them and take them home.”
“Yes, he is that grunt.” Belmaeda stated. He pried open a human cargo container and began to look through its contents as he averted his attention back to his assignment. Gridolee simply smirked at the foolishness of his ageing mentor. How could any elite, let alone a member of the Mirratord, ever obey the orders of a creature that was clearly inferior?
Eric and Palab paced themselves toward the central passageway of the ship. To Eric’s caution, he mentally noted the actions of every grunt that came near. They followed from a distance but seemed curiously drawn toward the grunt Sergeant. They arrived at the conveyor system which ran the length of the ship and Palab stepped on the glowing conveyor without delay. Eric followed closely but watched as several grunts continued to follow them. As they sped down the corridor on the purple light Eric found that it was a good chance to speak with the Sergeant.
“Sergeant Palab, why are the grunts following you like this?”
Palab turned and saw dozens of grunts following them along the conveyor, but did not seemed surprised by the sight. “They follow to protect me.”
“Protect you from the elites?” Eric continued to question.
“Yes, and any threat.” Palab answered bluntly.