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Outmatched
Posted By: chevan<powerchaz@comcast.net>
Date: 10 September 2003, 1:09 AM
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How must respect be won? Is it simply by being in the right place at the right time, by being overly antagonistic in the faces of enemies, or is something else? Don't you have to earn respect, and not just wield it like the golden armor that I wear?
All these thoughts and more raced around S'uulkaambe's mind, flitting in and out of his one-track mind like ghosts wandering the forgotten battlefields of time. He had been reprimanded time and again for questioning his place in the universe, for defying the Prophet's word that he was there simply because he was destined to be. He did not believe that there was an afterlife, or that he would go to meet his betters when he died, as the leaders had drilled into everyone else's mind. He knew that if he had been spawned in a different time and place under different circumstances, he simply wouldn't exist. He wouldn't know it, wouldn't care. He wouldn't be on this crippled cruiser, on this ancient artifact. He just wouldn't be.
Sudden gunshots, barely heard, shook S'uulkaambe from his reverie. The report was still echoing around the barracks. He tried to place the origin of the shots, and..... no, that couldn't be. They seemed to come from the gravity lift chamber, and they seemed almost like human weaponry...
The realization shook the last vestiges of sleep from his mind. There were intruders on the ship. His military training took over, and he rose from his chair, where he had been resting. He grabbed his plasma sword handle from the suspensor fields where it was stored under his bunk. The rippling blue fields shimmered as his hand left the containment area. He ran out into the hall, listening for more sounds of battle.
Up ahead, more shots rang out, along with the screams of dying grunts and jackals. S'uulkaambe started running down the corridors, the faces of passing grunts reflecting in his golden armor, their startled and confused faces looking to him for answers, directions. Why did they always look to him for answers? Couldn't they think for themselves? Or were the Prophets right, and they had no right to even be alive, except as a passing way to immortalize the champions of warriors? S'uulkaambe could barely contain his treasonous musings, and it took all he had to stop and demand of them why they always needed him to do everything for them.
As he got closer to the gravity lift chamber, the anticipation of the upcoming battle engulfed him. Even though he did not exactly enjoy being ordered to war, it was what he had been bred to do, and he couldn't help it. He activated his plasma blade, the outline shimmering into being, extending from his right hand. Because he was careless, his blade clipped the gas line of a nearby grunt, causing him to suffocate. But S'uulkaambe was too engulfed in an adrenaline rush to care; even though normally it would have caused him great anguish to see another so needlessly die.
As he passed through the door to the chamber, S'uulkaambe was astonished at what he saw. There was a small group of marines, standing on the lift area, surrounded by dozens of Covenant bodies. There was a bulky one wearing armor in the center of them, and he was drenched in fluorescent blue blood.
A volley of green plasma bursts shot out from behind S'uulkaambe, heading straight for the bulky invader, who made a huge target. Expecting the lower being to be incinerated by the blast, he inwardly gloated, until he saw something completely unexpected. The plasma bursts had completely dissipated on the armor of the bulky one, leaving behind a crackling web of lines weaving their way across his body. S'uulkaambe was enraged at the sight. To think, one of the lower beings, the equivalent of slugs, had taken on the armor reserved for the Elites! This would not go unpunished.
"Hey Chief, you okay?" shouted one of the marines to the bulky one. The one he referred to as Chief just nodded, and crouched down.
S'uulkaambe dashed forward, raising his sword as he went. Several marines fired at him, but he just ignored them, as they could never get through his enhanced shields. As he neared the sacrilegious one, he was taken completely be surprise when, instead of cowering in fear, he dropped down, and swung his legs toward S'uulkaambe. The rushing feet impacted his kneecaps with excruciating pain, crippling him. He dropped down, swinging his sword as he went. The Chief dodged the blade, and rising to his feet, dashed forward, swinging his leg as he went. His foot connected with S'uulkaambe's head, which went flying off, ricocheting of several walls before coming to a stop at the feet of a marine.
"Hey, a trophy! Nice, this'll look good above my bunk!" he said, attaching the head to his supply pack.
Just before S'uulkaambe died, he was strangely peaceful, knowing not only that he had died honorably, but also that he was finally going to prove the Prophets wrong.
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