- an REG Omega
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- Exalted Legendary Member
Chapter One: The Enemy of My Enemy
“What is the meaning of this,” the Ship Master demanded, “it is the will of the Prophets that the humans be destroyed!”
“Times have changed, and we must adapt or die,” the black-armored Elite began, “it is time to reconsider our loyalties.”
“Will of the prophets? You mean the guys who just condemned your entire race to death for no reason?” one of the other marines carrying a Fuel Rod Cannon spat. “How's that feel, huh?”
The Ship Master activated his plasma sword and began to approach the marine who had just spoken. Reacting instantly, the human who had shot the dead brute dropped his carbine and unsheathed his standard-issue combat knife, standing between the Ship Master and his intended target.
The Ship Master paused, reconsidering. The human's weapon looked pathetically small in his hand, and to attack the Sangheili with only that would mean certain death. The human's message was clear: the Elites had the upper hand and there would be no honor in killing these humans.
The Arbiter, in attempts to defuse the situation, was the next to speak.“What do you speak of, human, that the Prophets would condemn us to death?”
The human sheathed his knife and detached a part of his helmet with a single black eye in it.
“If you want proof, here's my personal video unit. It recorded everything I saw and heard from when I was released from the jail of that Covenant installation to this very moment. One of the Prophets was addressing the entire installation from some sort of intercom system. He said something about the Elites failing to protect the Prophets and that the Brutes needed help from other Covenant fighting classes to get rid of the Elites. Truth, I believe Cortana called him. He also ordered the...”
The human stopped and looked at the ground around him, stained purple and littered with dead Elites, all wearing identical armor unlike any he had seen before. Now recognizing their significance, he took a breath and continued.
“...the Councilors to converge on Halo. All I know is that from watching the fights, the Brutes, buggers and Jackals were killing off the Elites, Grunts and Hunters. They were putting up a hell of a fight, I might add. But don't ask me, ask him.”
The black-armored Mirratord turned to the Arbiter and spoke reverently.
“The human speaks the truth, Arbiter. I heard the words from the wretched Prophet's very mouth. With his blessing, the Jiralhanae began scouring High Charity of the Sangheili and all who fought by our side.”
The Arbiter weighed this in his mind. The Mirratord were the best warriors the Sangheili had to offer, the most disciplined and loyal soldiers in their entire race. They could not be evil, and they certainly would not lie. The Ship Master was waiting for any indication from the Arbiter to slice the disrespectful human in half, but the Arbiter raised his hand and waved off the Ship Master, who snorted and turned away from the humans, heading up the embankment.
The marine reattached his camera to his helmet and picked up his carbine, careful not to aim it towards the elites.
The Arbiter was intrigued by this human. He seemed very sophisticated and diplomatic, as opposed to the behavior exhibited by the others. Curious, the Arbiter spoke again. “Human, by what name is it you call yourself?”
The question surprised both the Marines and the Sangheili. The marine hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Sergeant Kyle Haskins, UNSC ID number 1009428F-3560. Former analyst for the Office of Naval Intelligence.”
His fellow Marines looked at him incredulously, some whispering “spook?”
The Arbiter nodded. “I am the Arbiter, former Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice. Tell me, human, why do you wish to join us?”
Haskins grunted. “My people have a saying, and I think it applies here. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Between the Elites and the Brutes, frankly, I'd rather fight alongside those with a sense of honor.”
He remembered Private Michael Simmons' attempts to inform one of the Brute guards of what Halo actually did when it fired. The Brute had snorted and waved the young Marine off upon hearing that Halo was a weapon against the Flood. That was when the frustrated Marine had shouted “Goddammit, you thick-skulled moron! I'd have more luck explaining it to a Grunt!” The Brute had then fractured the Marine's skull and tossed his body to the jackals.
Seeing the look on Haskins' face, the Arbiter nodded. “You may come with us, humans, but do not expect our protection.”
The other Marines looked at Haskins accusingly as the Arbiter turned his back and walked into a door in the cliff side.
Haskins sighed and said “I know.”
“What the -blam!- is this all about, secret agent man?”
“Yeah, dude, so now you're all buddy-buddy with the split-lips?”
“Goddammit, Haskins, those bastards murdered my family on Harvest! And now we're going to fight WITH them?”
“Spook, you should have let me shoot the bastard!” The last Marine, Corporal Diego Perez, had been the one the Ship Master had threatened to kill.
Haskins faced him and spoke. “Look at that dead Brute on the ground in front of you. He was nearly decapitated by a beam sword, and he had a Brute Shot. That 'split-lip' would have taken your head off before you could have pulled the trigger.”
The Marine's mouth hung open as he failed to find a retort.
Haskins calmly spoke again. “I know that this isn't what you like, and by God, I agree with you. But I studied the Covenant intently in my ONI days. Tactics, weaponry, and society. The weakest link in the Covenant has always been relations between the Brutes and Elites. They never fight by each others' side, rather like allied armies with a common enemy. Us. We have a golden opportunity here. The Covenant is split down the middle. We could bring an end to the entire war without total destruction of the Covenant.”
“My family is still dead.”
Haskins didn't have a reply.
“Haskins, I don't give a -blam!- about your high strategy,” the Marine, named Whitten, continued, “but still, you're the reason we're alive. I guess we owe you for that. Fine. I'll play along, but if one of those split-lips so much as looks at me -blam!--eyed, he's fair game, got it?”
Haskins nodded to Whitten, who then turned and walked up the embankment towards the doors.
A second Marine, then a third, followed suite.
The last Marine was Corporal Diego Perez.
“You guys can do what you want, I'm staying here.”
Haskins nodded briefly and offered to shake Diego's hand. Diego refused, turning to head back into the woods.
“Corporal...”
“Don't pull rank on me, I'm beyond the point of caring.”
“That's not it.”
“Then what?”
Haskins nodded toward Perez' Fuel Rod Cannon. “Unless you want to die of radiation poisoning by the end of the week, I'd strongly recommend that you get rid of that thing.”
Perez responded with an obscene gesture and walked off into the woods.
Haskins shook his head and walked up the embankment through the doors.
--Continued below--