Previous Chapters Next
Close
The Fallen2,797 words
Tribulation1,505 words
Justice2,963 words
Allegience 2,746 words
Soul of the Renegade1,644 words
Return of the Night1,389 words
Once More Unto the Breach1,436 words
Broken Arrow 2,445 words

Tribulation

We're all born with the will to fight. That inherent instinct is what keeps us alive in the greatest tribulation. It's when that instinct turns to greed that it becomes a issue. For greed is the door to destruction.

-Unknown

Captain Marcus clamped his clammy hands together in nervous excitement. He would have preferred a less chaotic situation to welcome the legendary soldier. Then again, Spartans were notorious for bringing about trouble wherever they went. Perhaps it was simply the result of some extraneous aura dictating the luck surrounding the super soldiers. Or it was because they were billion-dollar killing machines responsible for the downfall of the Covenant. One of those two options sufficed.

Although the Valkyrie had stabilized following the unexpected encounter with the hostile population, it was certainly not in battle ready condition. Over 50 percent of the outer hull sustained critical damage from the high energy beams, of which the resident physicists aboard the fleet were still struggling to comprehend. They were quite unlike any plasma charges standard among Covenant troops, and certainly didn't resemble any focused-light based weaponry from Forerunner tech. All anyone knew was that they did incredible damage over an equally impressive distance, two important factors that produced devastating results.

Along with the hull, many of the internal components of the Valkyrie were in critical condition, including life support and weapons systems. The FTL, or Faster-Than-Light Drive, was also rendered unusable. If it had sustained any more energy charges it may have melted down, resulting in the Valkyrie's swift disappearance from reality.

The condition of the main control room resembled that of the rest of the vessel. Marine engineers worked frantically to repair broken control panels and replace missing floor plates. The observation area of the bridge, a semi-circular dome made out of atomically reinforced glass, was not left unscathed. A large crack on the front window plate contributed to Captain Marcus's nervousness, though his engineers assured him that it would remain intact. Probably.

Captain Marcus jumped up from his high tech command chair when he heard the hissing sound of the blast door opening into the bridge slide open. A faint trail of white smoke erupted from the now open door as pressure equalized. As it cleared, Marcus saw two Marines in full battle dress uniform armed with Assault Rifles nervously enter the room on either side of one of the most imposing figures the captain had ever seen. The hull of the ship shook slightly as the Spartan moved swiftly into the bridge. He did not move as the captain expected, lumbering in exhaustion after drifting in space and facing the Covenant. Rather, he moved with purpose, as if there was something important to be attended to. He moved like a specter, more of a blur of black, battle worn armor than a person. Marcus hardly had the courage to look into his eyes. As he did, he was shocked by what he saw. Rage. Not some kind of simple temper tantrum, but the calm rage of a disciplined warrior. Fear crept into the captain's heart as the Spartan approached ever swifter. His escort was hardly able to keep pace with the determined Spartan.

"Spartan B312, welcome aboard! The United Nations Space Command, along with myself, are delighted to see you alive. We may debrief in the operations room, if you wish."

Captain Marcus halted his attempt at a pleasant welcome as the Spartan came to a halt inches away from him. The warrior stood at least a foot and a half taller than the stumpy captain. All of the chatter in the bridge ceased as the Spartan continued to simply stand there, saying nothing. He simply stared into the captains eyes, unblinking, his expression that same calm rage. Sweat beaded along Marcus's forehead as fear continued to grow inside him.

"Or, you could take some time to rest and recover, if you would like..."

The captain's voice trailed off, fear taking his vocal cords away from him. Every eye in the bridge watched the encounter nervously as the Spartan continued to stare in silence. A few agonizingly long seconds later, the Spartan spoke, his voice nothing less than a lethal specter,

"Are you aware, sir, of what you have done?"

The Spartan did not break his gaze into the the captain's eyes as he made this seemingly peculiar, and most certainly chilling, statement. Marcus stammered, unsure of what he meant,

"W-what do you mean? If I am correct, we have just rescued you."

The captain finished his statement with an indignant note. He did not understand why the UNSC asset was treating him with such a condescending and disrespectful tone.

The enraged Spartan leaned over him, forcing the captain to bend slightly backwards to maintain eye contact.

"Sir, are you aware that you have broken multiple UNSC protocols, including the rules of engagement, the use of excessive force, and the unnecessary slaughter of civilians?"

Captain Marcus was taken aback, as were the rest of the UNSC personnel in the bridge. The rules of engagement? Protocol? In the captain's mind, the Spartan was acting entirely out of conduct. Marcus straightened himself in a dignified manner and said snobbishly,

"Spartan, I have followed all UNSC protocols regarding our current situation. We were engaged by a hostile force, so I authorized an in atmospheric MAC round on the attackers. I saved your life, Spartan. Stand down, or I will follow protocol and detain you forcibly."

The Marine escort nervously tightened their grip on their Assault Rifles. The other personnel began to back away slowly.
Then, so swiftly that the captain had no time to react, the Spartan snatched his gray-clothed collar and pulled the sad officer up to his eye level. The Marine escort team involuntarily brought their Assault Rifles to the Spartan's head.

For a few moments, there was still silence. Fear froze the hearts of everyone in the room. Everyone, but the Spartan.

"Let...me go Spartan! That's an order!"

The captain struggled to say, his throat choked by the force of the Spartan's grip on his shirt. Both Marine escorts placed the muzzle of their rifles on the sides of the Spartan's head.

"Stand down, Spartan!" One of the escorts bellowed, driven by fear and panic. Enlisted Marines typically try not to impose their will on Spartans. There's no telling how they might respond.

The Spartan's eyes became slits, never breaking eye contact with the fearful captain. Then, after a few more breathless moments, the Spartan released his iron grip.

Immediately, the captain cowardly stammered backwards, and in a fearful daze commanded that the asset be restrained. The Spartan stood deathly still as an exceedingly nervous Marine placed titanium cuffs around his wrists. They were more superficial than restraining.

"I ought to court martial you right here Spartan, for breaking conduct and threatening a superior officer!"

The captain said, filled with both fear and indignant anger.

The Spartan replied with a chilling tone,

"I should court martial you, sir, for the slaughter of a defenseless population. The use of a MAC cannon in this situation was excessive force. You knew that it had the potential to kill innocents."

The captain literally scoffed, and replied,

"Defenseless population? Spartan, we nearly lost all our frigates in that last encounter. I believe my deployment of a MAC cannon to be entirely justified. You are a UNSC and ONI asset, your interests are ours. Take him to the holding cell."

The Marine escort anxiously pulled on either of the Spartan's arms. It was a futile gesture. The Spartan remained fixed in place.

"Interests, sir? Our primary interest is to protect the innocent, defend the defenseless. You have done the opposite. You are following your own interests, sir.

The captain's faced curled in disgust and rage as he stormed indignantly towards the Spartan. He halted directly in front of him, and whispered into his ear in a slimy tone,

"I will terminate your life where you stand if need be. This is my frigate, this is my fleet, and this planet...this planet belongs to the UNSC, ONI, and myself. Am I clear?"

The Spartan made no reply. Instead, he turned, and walked towards the open blast door, his moves crisp and determined, but slow enough for the Marine escort to follow closely. The Marines kept their rifles trained on the Spartan as he moved, and began to escort him to the holding bay. Just as he passed under the heavy blast door, the Spartan turned, and faced the red-faced captain.

"I am a Noble. My protocol complies with what Noble Team stands for."

With that chilling statement, Noble Six turned, and allowed the terrified Marines to escort him down a long corridor to the holding bay.

3,255 views

198

Previous Chapters Next