|
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
Concept Art
Halo Bulletins
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
ARG Forum
Links
Admin
Submissions
Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
The Nobody Saga - Ch. 1
Posted By: The Listener<goldeneyecommando@hotmail.com>
Date: 27 November 2003, 12:52 AM
Read/Post Comments
|
Author's Note:
This is my Halo.Bungie.Org permiere fic. This series will hopefully be a long one, and should keep you entertained. Please do not be afraid to be harsh in the comments section, as comments are one of the few things that can help me know what I am doing wrong.
Enjoy.
******
Chapter 1: Old Friends
An eerie blue glow illuminated the otherwise dark room; the source was a table at which two figures were seated at a holographic chess table. One, a Covenant prophet dressed in a traditional purple colored dress, the other a prophet in the same type of dress, but in green.
The purple-dressed Prophet waited patiently while the one in green thought about his move. His robes wavered and fluttered in a non-existant breeze as he floated few feet above the ground. Suddenly, a look of amusement appeared on the green-dressed prophet. He slowly picked up a pawn and moved it forward one space. The table flashed in response.
"Only a pawn?" The Prophet opposite him asked.. "I see several attacks you could have done with better pieces."
"Sometimes, the move of a pawn is all it takes to secure the win".
***
The sound of Jett's body falling off the top bunk bed reverberated through his sleeping quarters. "That was smooth. You woke me up, dumbass." some Jackal said in the darkness.
"F you man..." Jett mumbled inaudibly. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 'Hmm. It looks like it is almost meal time..." Jett thought to himself.
Jett was a member of a respected interstellar Covenant scouting clan known as "Truth's Nose". Secretly, the members hated the name, but it was either stick with the name they got or be put in the front lines against the humans. Jett just finished a 6 week session scouting some obscure section of the galaxy with 3 of the most annoying crewmates you could ever scrape from the bottom of the proverbial barrel. It was a miracle that Jett got through without killing a crewmate or getting killed by one. He pulled out his ship and ground uniform , which consisted of a gray undershirt, underwear, armor, some weird kilt-like pant armor, boots, and his shield, out of a box under his bunk.
Jett took all his stuff into the small bathroom and started to change. As he took off his sleepwear, he thought of his past. When he was 7 years old, his house was attacked by a human bombing raid, a raid that devastated his house, destroying Jett's eye and face, and worst of all, killing his little sister Tara. After Tara's funeral, Jett became quite withdrawn. He felt like a freak due to the loss of his right eye and the numerous scars on the right side of his face, and the fact that he and his sister weren't at the best of terms when she died. He stopped talking to his friends and often just sat were Tara's room was and just stared into space. Only after a year of professional consoling did Jett start to talk to classmates again. At around 14 he signed up for the Covenant war effort to revenge his sister. He wanted to be on the front lines, but the loss of his eye disqualified him from that position. Instead, he signed up to pilot and work on scout ships. After two years of intense immersion training he finally became a member of the "Truth's Nose", which he has spent the last 2 years of his life with.
After he got his uniform on, Jett slipped on his shield and activated it with a push of a small button on the wrist strap. He was thrown off balance a bit from the shield's recoil. Shields were required to be activated at all times unless you were eating, sleeping, or were in a non-combative role outside of one of the main battleships, and Jett hasn't used once since he left boot camp. He gave himself one final look in the mirror, adjusted a few straps, and left the room.
"Jett? Is that you?" a voice behind him called as Jett walked down the hall. Jett turned around and saw his former girlfriend Jyme. Jyme and Jett first met when they were 9. Jyme helped Jett learn to laugh again after Tara died. They had a great relationship, and even managed to get in the same group in the Covenant version of Boot Camp. Unfortunately, they had to split apart when Jett went off to join "Truth's Nose". "What are you doing here?"
"Um, my ship stopped here to get, um, resupplied, sort of." he replied. An odd silence filled the air. They didn't exactly leave on the greatest of terms. Telling your girlfriend that you will be leaving and won't be seeing her anymore 5 minutes before you leave isn't the greatest idea in the world.
"How long are you going to be here?" She asked.
"I think I'm here tomorrow, and I think the day after that, but I'm not sure."
"I see. Are you heading for lunch?"
Jett paused, then smiled. "Only if I can sit next to you" Jyme smiled and elbowed Jett in the side.
"Fine, Fine. Besides, I want you to meet some friends of mine."
Jyme lead him to her quarters. Inside the quarters were 2 grunts, who were busy eating some food while sitting on a bunk. On the opposite side of the room lay a Jackal sleeping on a top bunk. Jyme walked to the bunk underneath the sleeping Jackal and sat down. "I thought we were going to lunch?' Jett asked.
"We are. The cafeteria is way too crowded." Jyme replied. "Besides, don't you want to meet my friends?" Jett sat down next to her. "The grunt on the right is Garcias, and the one on the left is Jimburg"
Garcias and Jimburg were two grunts who specialised in Human speech and text translation. While most grunts are pretty good at picking up languages, Garcias and Jimburg happen to be quite good at it. While this doesn't keep them off the battlefield, it does make them a bit more usefull to the average Elite, and it probally explains why they haven't been "Accidentially Killed" in training exercises like most of the grunts that are as hyperactive and independant as these two are. "So you're that guy Jyme cusses out in her sleep!" Garcias joked. "Nah, just joking with you." Garcias then continued eating, which was a bit difficult because of the Grunt's methane breather devices. Eating comprised of taking off the breather just long enough to get a bite or two in before putting it back on to breathe. "You seem like an okay guy...what in the world happened to your eye?"
"Long story." Jyme said quickly before Jett could respond.
"You Know, I wonder how those weird humans eat lunch? I doubt they eat lunch like us." Garcias said in-between mouthfuls.
"They probably got some food nipple they suck on." Jimburg added, sturring up the slop that he had on his plate.
"You mean like some mammal food nipple, or like the squeezy thing that dispenses the slop of the month over at the cafeteria that you guys love to call the "Food Nipple"?" Jyme asked.
"More like a little piggy!" Garcias shouted out, causing Jimburg to drop his plate in laughter.
"Typical Grunts. What an immature species." Jett said dismissively.
"Jett, Jett. How long have you been out there?" Jyme snapped. "I know they are a bit more hyper than Jackals are, but they can't help it. Come on, sit down and relax. You want some food? I think we have some contraband human food from the last raid we did on some trade vessel." She sat down on an empty bunk and pulled out a box that was cleverly hidden from view by a helmet and undershirts. "I think they call this long can 'beear', 'boooher' 'beer'? It tastes horrible, but it makes you a bit topsy if you drink too much. I've also got what I think is called... 'sam? skam? How in the world can a Jackal make a P sound? Human tounge is so hard to do. They must have clubs for tounges or something."
"We manage just fine!" Garcias said. "We cuss out the drill sergeants all the time during drills with human words, and they don't notice at all. Now give me the beer, 'beetch'"
With a sigh, Jyme tossed Garcias a can of the contraband beer. Jett sat down next to Jyme and picked up a can. He studied it closely, then put it back. "Filthy stuff. I don't know why you like humans and human stuff so much." Jett said. "I'd rather fight in line."
"Your loss." Jyme said. "Yeah, humans deserve to get their fate, but they do some things right." "Sure. You go ahead and think that. I'll be in the cafeteria." Jett replied, obviously irritaded. "I haven't had anything to eat since docking and I'm not going to eat anything sitting in here."
"Jeez, who cut down his tree?" Jyme muddered. Trees are an important part of Jackal culture in the homeworld, and this is a popular Jackalian phrase.
When Jett started to get up, something was thrown into their room. He hopped up and ran into the hall, which he found empty. "That was odd," he said "What was that?"
"It's a data tablet." Jyme said. She picked it up and started reading. "It's written in elitish, but I think I can read it..."
"What's it say?" Garcias asked eagerly.
"All it said is 'Meet at corridor behind engine room'.
Jett walked back into the room and took the tablet from Jyme. "Hmm. Something tells me this guy doesn't want to talk to you about getting a higher personal belonging allotment."
"Whatever it is," Jyme said, "I don't think we should ignore it. I've got a hunch this thing is, it is going to change our lives".
|