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Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely by Iatro
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Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely (Phase One//Part One)
Date: 26 April 2004, 9:47 AM
Seventh Cycle, 45 units (Covenant Battle Calendar) /
The Silent Cartographer
Edaj gingerly stepped over the broken body of a Jackal and skirted around a felled Hunter. There was nothing left but scattered corpses and bloodstains. No Covenant had survived. There was a few human corpses as well, but nothing that compared to the amount of Covenant that had fallen. It was a massacre.
The Elite suppressed a shudder as he stepped through a puddle of the Hunter's congealed blood and onto a platform of metal tiles. The platform jutted out from the cliffside, overlooking the shore of a narrow strip of beach. It was held up by thick pillars of a metallic alloy that looked and felt like stone.
And as usual, Edaj had had no choice but to watch. Such was the life of an Ossoona, the Eye of the Prophet. Their mission was important, but they were not allowed to fight; simply observe, and report information back along with the data recorded from cameras mounted to their helmets.
Edaj was important to the Prophets. They seemed to favor him because of his unusual luck; whether it was good luck or bad luck, even the Elite could not say. He always survived, no matter what he went into or what was thrown at him.
The Elite was less than thrilled with his appointed job, especially as it almost always ended like this: he wandered alone through a battlefield strewn with the dead. He gazed at the Hunter a moment longer, then reached down and pulled the beast's eyes shut with the tip of his long finger.
He was not often disposed to such sentimentalities on the battlefield, but this was worse than most. That human had been here.
He had, at least, gathered some information on this human, the Spartan. The other humans called him Master Chief. Edaj shook his head softly and glanced up, gazing around his surroundings before he had to go underground.
The scene would have been quite relaxing, were it not for the puddles of blood and gore scattered between numerous Grunt and Jackal bodies. The sun was bright and warm on Edaj's matte black armor, and glittered along the waves that lapped softly at the sandy shore.
The Ossoona shook his head softly and entered an arched steel hallway. A similar stone-metal material formed the interior of the building, and symbols were etched into the walls. A few were embossed with fiber optic wires, causing them to pulse and glow in blue or white. Edaj descended down a series of platforms into the lower depths of Silent Cartographer. It was easy to track where the Spartan had gone- he just had to follow the trail of bodies and the metal shells that made part of the humans' pitiful ammunition.
Edaj's job was done, however; and he did not care to follow the human any further. He was to meet with a dropship lower in the depths and return to report to the Prophets. It just seemed to be his luck, yet again, that the human had followed a similar path as he.
Silently pacing the narrow hallways, the Elite was mildly unnerved as he encountered a large, open room that he had to cross through. The room was scattered with purple supply pods, which, while stocked with Covenant goods, allowed plenty of cover for anyone who might be hiding in here.
He crept through the room cautiously, even knowing that his active camouflage kept him invisible, sneaking over another Hunter's corpse. He froze dead in his tracks when his keen ears caught a soft whispering noise, his head swinging back and forth to find the source of it.
He heard the noise again, a ragged breath, then a soft scraping of metal. Something was injured, and it sounded as if it was trying to drag itself out...
Gripping his plasma rifle tightly in his lithe hand, Edaj tracked the noise, stepping lightly to keep silent as he moved, using the supply boxes as cover. He rounded one upturned stack of crates and peered around the edge, his eyes falling on the injured creature.
The other Hunter; it was still alive. It was laying on its stomach and its eyes were rolled back into its head, but it was breathing. The exposed patches of orange flesh on its body pulsed softly, and it leaked orange blood from under its armor.
Edaj knew he should just pass the Hunter and continue to his meeting coordinates, but he would dearly have loved to see someone other than himself make it alive for once.
And this Hunter just might share his luck, at least this once.
"Hunter, can you hear me?" Edaj asked in his warbling tongue, making sure he kept behind the purple crates for cover. He didn't want to change the risk of an injured or berserk Hunter mistakenly shooting at the Elite.
There was no response.
"Hunter?" Edaj stepped out and edged up the Hunter, then prodded it lightly in the side with his toes.
Two full seconds passed, enough time for Edaj to think it was a lost cause, then the Hunter let out with a mighty roar and pushed itself to its feet, its fuel rod cannon firing. It didn't aim and the green blast simply hit the floor two yards in front of them both, setting off Edaj's fields.
Edaj snarled and leapt backward quickly, instinctively raising his plasma pistol. He ducked back behind the crates as the Hunter shot off another blast, this one flying across the room and slamming through the doorway through which Edaj had entered.
"Hunter! I am your superior and commander, cease your fire!"
The soft humming of the fuel rod charging up wound down to silence as the Hunter complied.
Good; it wasn't completely out of its mind, at least. Edaj dared to poke his head back around the corner. The Hunter was hunched over in battle mode ... but a second look showed it to be hunched over, now pressing its large gun against its belly as it propped itself up with its large shield.
The Elite stepped out from his cover and stood up straight, approaching the blue-armored creature. He stood a few feet in front of it, and realized- with a bit of surprise- he didn't have to look up.
The Hunter was quite small by the standards of its species; at full height it was perhaps a foot taller than Edaj. The beasts were generally half again as tall as the Elites.
The Elite and the Hunter stared each other down for a long moment, saying nothing. Edaj clicked his mandibles once, and the Hunter's six spikes raised, then dropped and went limp across the plating covering most of its back. The Elite kept eye contact, his unusually coloured green eyes shining, a sharp contrast to his ivory skin; where most Elites were a rich brown. The Hunter stared back at him with flat, pale eyes.
"... Follow me if you can." Edaj said after a long moment, and stepped through another doorway at the end of the room.
The Hunter shifted its arms to cover its lower body with its left arm, the shield held across the exposed patch of its belly, and leveled the fuel rod gun over the edge of the shield and shuffled after the Elite. Orange phosphorescent blood dribbled down its legs and spattered the floor, and Edaj suddenly realized with horror the Hunter was probably holding its own entrails inside its body.
He suppressed a shudder and rounded a corner, silently admiring the Hunter. He knew they were tough creatures, but this was almost too much for him to comprehend. The Hunter remained silent other than its raspy breathing and heavy footsteps as it followed the Elite.
Edaj padded down another ramp and stepped onto a platform. The platform was fashioned of more stone-like metal, carved in intricate designs that resembled tiling, and had a sheer drop. It was faced into the side of a massive hole, something akin to an elevator shaft but large enough for a dropship to maneuver through. The shaft ran straight up and down, the sides punctuated by narrow platforms and hallways such as this.
The Elite waited patiently, gazing up into the haze of the shaft, his eyes finally catching sight of the U-shaped vessel carefully descending. Edaj stood up straight as the dropship came to over in front of the platform, his jade-green eyes glittering.
The hatch of the left prong of the dropship snapped open, revealing an Elite in gold armor standing in one of the compartments. He beckoned Edaj inside with a hand motion, then froze momentarily as he spotted the injured Hunter, waiting near Edaj.
"I found one still alive, Field Master 'Zuramee," Edaj addressed the gold armored Elite. "I 'believe we could take him back aboard the Holy Faith and he may survive."
'Zuramee made a soft snort and clicked his upper mandibles together sharply before responding. He was not pleased with the idea of carrying the injured Hunter, but Edaj outranked him, and the Ossoona's word was the command in this situation.
"Very well. Load it in the other side, Ossoona 'Sparramee." Zuramee leaned back against the wall as Edaj stepped up the hatch and settled into a seat as far from 'Zuramee as possible, and the dropship spun on axis to allow the Hunter to enter the other side. Once both survivors were loaded, the hatches snapped shut and the dropship rose peacefully up the shaft, finally emerging back into sunlight. It hovered for a moment as arched doors slid shut beneath it, blocking the shaft closed. The dropship floated away from the island lazily, picking up speed as it raced off over the glittering blue waters; Edaj enjoying the chance to lay back and shut his eyes, if only for a few units.
Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely (Phase One//Part Two)
Date: 29 April 2004, 8:05 AM
Seventh Cycle, 49 Units (Covenant Battle Calendar) /
Aboard the Truth and Reconciliation
Edaj glanced up from the readouts displayed in blue holographs in front of his face at the chime, his eyes glaring at the entrance door to his personal quarters. Couldn't he even take a rest when he got back? He'd just sat down, and already he was being summoned for something ...
"What can I help you with?" He asked gruffly into the comm.
He received no response after several signals. He stood up and took a step toward the door, then his righteous paranoia got the better of him and he turned, picked up his trusty plasma rifle off the storage shelf, and advanced towards the door. He poked at the hovering keypad next to it and it slid open, revealing another Elite.
This one wore iridescent black armor, a brilliant contrast to Edaj's stark, matte black armor. His black eyes bored into Edaj's wary face. Edaj relaxed and waved him inside.
"Just you, 'Brusalee. Enter."
Lanse 'Brusalee gave no acknowledgment other then to step inside, remaining standing as Edaj returned to examining his readings, placing his rifle back on the shelf.
"Still paranoid, 'Sparramee?" The other Elite asked, the holodisplay reflected in his prismatic helmet.
Edaj grunted and tapped at the hologram. It shifted and white text flashed by, then was replaced by blue symbols, highlighted here and there with crimson. Lanse stepped around to read over Edaj's shoulder, and both fell silent as they focused on the report.
After several moments of quiet reading, the albino Elite snarled silently, then snapped his mandibles shut with an audible click as he stood up, his hands clenching into fists. "That fool! He's no idea what he's messing with, I have seen that human myself..." Edaj's rambling spiraled into a soft growling and grumbling as he paced, his long fingers curling and stretching as he clenched his hands into fists.
Lanse allowed him his angry moment before he spoke again, rather softly. "I'm here to tell you, Edaj 'Sparramee... be careful. The Prophets are displeased, they've already executed 'Rolamee."
Edaj froze in his steps and whipped his head around to stare at Lanse, glittering emerald eyes wide.
"'Rolamee..." he repeated in a whisper, then his voice quickly gained in decibels. "'Rolamee! But why? He was-"
Lanse clacked his mandibles together with a loud snap of fangs connecting and tapped the front of his mouth, glaring reprovingly at Edaj. "Do not speak ill of the Prophets, my friend. It is unwise."
The albino met Lanse's glare and threw his own in turn, but kept his peace.
"'Listen to me, 'Sparramee." Lanse began, again rather quietly, which forced Edaj to relax and listen. "'Rolamee unlocked something that was to be kept in its prison. He was against the Prophets' desires and went there, and because of him, the Prophets fear the humans have no released it."
Edaj's eyes went wide as the realization of this sunk in.
"The Prophets are going to be watching, my friend. They are after anyone they suspect may have helped 'Rolamee."
Edaj clicked his lower mandibles in a shrug like gesture. "How does that affect me? I knew 'Rolamee, he was a great officer, but I was not involved in that. Nor do I want to be. I'm an Ossoona, I work alone. I care not for what the Prophets think, they are all corrupt and greedy."
Lanse inclined his head, parting his jaws to show the tips of white fangs shining between cocoa hide and orange gums. "Hold your jaws, Edaj 'Sparramee. You never know who may be listening. Do not speak ill of the Prophets, they and us have founded this. They and us alone stand above the others. Do not be so arrogant and biased, dear Edaj."
The albino allowed a moment to take in this words, returning to his seat in front of the holodisplay, though his eyes were focused on the wall beyond the report. "What of the Brutes, or do you forget those when they are not with us?" 'Sparramee twisted around in his seat to face the other Elite.
Lanse's eyes narrowed to glittering slits. "I care not for the Brutes." he hissed. "Those primates think they can take on Hunters..."
Edaj made an amused noise, staring at his reflected in Lanse's glossy helmet; the face that stared back at him was tinted with red and yellow. "Now who is the biased one, 'Brusalee?"
Lanse stood up straight and flexed his fingers slowly, ignoring the question. "Be careful whom you speak to, Edaj. Keep your opinions to yourself." He rested his bony hand briefly on the Elite's armored shoulder, then took his leave.
The albino's eyes followed him to the door and watched as he paused outside it to snap orders at a group of Jackals loitering in the hallway, then the door panels slid shut and obscured Lanse.
Edaj ground his fangs together as he leaned back in his seat, shutting his eyes. Perhaps he could even catch some real rest; he'd think about Lanse's words later, when he could properly concentrate.
Ortai's thick eyelids slid half-open, revealing pale glazed eyes. He hovered in that never-never land between sleep, consciousness, death and life. It seemed this was his true plane of existence, this was where he lived and survived.
He was vaguely aware of a great, but distant, pain in his abdomen, and the fact that he was laying on his back, armor stripped from his torso. The pain seemed to draw closer and stronger, growing from a dull pain to a sharp lance that seemed to enter at his belly, run up his spine, and shoot back out between his shoulders.
Ortai grunted and tried to push himself up. His arms gave out feebly and he fell back upon his spikes uncomfortably. Angered by his incompetence, he forced himself upright, blinking his eyes to focus them.
The pink puffballs that filled the room focused into Engineers, which floated peacefully around the small medbay. The slug like creatures hovered around the Hunter, poking and prodding at him with their tentacles, the tips split into delicate fringes.
Ortai waved his gauntleted hand irritably and hit an Engineer's soft body, knocking it away from his head. The Engineer squealed and did a midair somersault before regaining its hovering balance. The other Engineers huffed at him and prodded his chest, trying to push him back down.
Ortai growled at the floating balloon-like creatures, then cringed as another lance of pain shot through his body. He waited for it to subside, ignoring the soft tentacles that probed at his body, and scanned the rest of the medbay.
The room was circular with a low, arched ceiling and ringed with a wide bench. There was an Elite sitting patiently on a bench at the opposite side of the room while an Engineer attended to his blue armor. A pair of Elites in red armor paced the room, watching closely while another cluster of Engineers worked their dexterous tentacles over Ortai's removed chest armor.
He felt positively naked and weak without his thick armor, heavy shield and fuel rod cannon. The Hunter shuddered and relented to the floating pink creatures and laid back down on the floor, stretching his neck as he reluctantly tried to relax.
Ortai realized, much to his dismay, he couldn't remember exactly why he was here. He remembered climbing into a dropship, and his belly was injured.
Wait, there was an Elite there, one who seemed to have saved him. Why? The Elites didn't care for anything but their own kind...
The Elite was white. The albino, the Touched, as they referred to him. He always survived... but why would he waste his time with a Hunter?
Ortai grunted and closed his eyes, ignoring the pain from the Engineers prodding his wounds. There was a simple enough solution. As soon as the Engineers were done with him here, he'd go and find the Touched Elite and speak to him.
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