Prompt provided by writing buddy Faclan : Genre: Drama
Theme: Rescue from Innies
Character: Nek and Kael
UNEARTHED CHARADEBy Supercommando
Of course it had been a bad idea. It was glaringly obvious how bad it was. So bad, it made his other, more usual bad ideas look like mere questionable ideas, like “oh okay that was kinda sketchy” ideas rather than the kind of “ohhhhh
SHIT” idea that this most clearly was.
Because from this, there might not be any coming back.
T’vaoan pirates Nek Dal and Tel Yag dove over a row of supply crates amid a hail of deafening automatic gunfire. Nek accidently bashed his beak into the metal floor in the landing, but otherwise he and his first mate managed to avoid being shredded. One of their crew wasn’t so lucky. He crashed beside Nek and rolled to lay in a limp spread-eagle, wide-eyed, with gruesome holes torn in his body and dark purple blood smeared where his body rolled. His head flopped to one side, coming face-to-face with Nek, as one faint, final gasp of breath escaped his throat.
Appalled, Nek flinched away. He started scrambling to his feet by instinct, only to find himself forcefully flattened back onto the floor.
“Stay
down!” Tel hissed into Nek’s ear. The barrage hadn’t stopped. Bullets were ripping into the crates from the opposite side like a hot metal rain, a few of them drilling entirely through and zinging directly over their heads, blowing out chunks of debris in the process that showered the aliens while they willed themselves to become as one with the floor as possible.
“Didn’t I tell you this was a bad idea!?” Tel shouted over the gunfire, not allowing the opportunity to berate her “brilliant” captain pass even despite the circumstances.
“Um… Maaaybe…” was the best reply Nek could come up with at the moment.
Jobs had been getting harder and harder to come by the longer the war went on. As humanity was slowly whittled away by the overwhelming Covenant, there became less and less humans out there to trade with. And those that remained were increasingly desperate, and thus increasingly dangerous. So when Nek got word of a small group of humans, most likely rebels of some kind, looking for weapons, he jumped at the chance to make a deal…
Ignoring the fact that the client group was adamant about remaining anonymous... (What? Some people are touchy about their privacy).
And all they wanted was as much explosive ordnance as possible... (Makes sense if you’re stuck fighting an uphill battle, right?)
The meeting place was random coordinates in the middle of nowhere… (Hey, isn’t it always?)
The
Speed Streak was required to show up alone… (Pfft. Standard procedure).
They easily agreed to all Nek’s prices without question… (They obviously recognize a good deal when they see one, that’s all).
And they specifically requested Nek Dal by name. (Okay, so maybe that is a little fishy, but that could just mean Nek’s reputation is growing. Or one could hope).
And despite all this, Nek had been absolutely dying to have another taste of the old days before so much of his cargo was being run for Covenant exclusively. Not that he didn’t appreciate the stability or regular income from supplying Chieftain Garatus, but it just didn’t scratch the itch that was his fondness of human culture, an itch that had been building painfully without relief lately.
So, much to his crew’s skepticism (and Tel’s in particular), he somehow managed to convince them that this one teeny tiny side job was a worthwhile detour along their way to meet up with the Fleet of Particular Justice for their latest delivery. Arriving at the coordinates they discovered a long-abandoned asteroid mining facility, the asteroid into which the facility was built being a rogue one that must have been knocked out of some orbit long ago, for here it was just freely drifting along all by itself far away from any planet or colony or anything else. The
Speed Streak docked in an empty, seemingly long-abandoned hanger, unloaded the goods, and waited for some sign of their clients to show up.
Now they were being shot at.
“We need to get back to the ship!” Tel declared. It wasn’t far. The large, mostly empty room they were in, likely a storage area of some kind, connected directly to the hanger where the
Speed Streak was docked. In the center of the room were the containers full of explosives they brought, and close to one wall was this row of crates they were desperately using as cover. Artificial gravity, life support, and backup power in this place were all functioning, barely.
In the dim lighting, they barely noticed their “clients” arrive just as the shooting started. So clearly this had been a set up. In this situation one might wonder who these people were, what their motive was, or how many of them there were. But the only question Nek cared about at this moment was the important one: How do we get out of this mess?
Before he could make much progress with that, the shooting suddenly stopped. Then something small bounced between him and Tel with a hard metallic
plink against the floor. Nek recognized the shape, but Tel was first to voice a distressed warning.
“Grenade!”
Nek was on his feet without thinking, bolting as fast as his T’avoan legs could carry him. Gunfire erupted again and Nek screamed as he ran. He could see laser sights swinging through the dark as rounds zinged by, sparking against the wall and floor uncomfortably close to him. If it weren’t for his exceptional agility, he likely would be dead by now.
Somewhere behind him there was an explosion and he was backlit by a fiery flash, but he didn’t dare stop to look to see what happened. His mind was a panicked blur. He snatched his M6D pistol from his side and fired wildly in the direction the enemy fire was coming from, also not looking. He darted past a metal support beam which provided brief cover, but he didn’t stop. Ahead he spotted an open doorway, so he dived for it as he approached, sliding on his belly into the momentary shelter in the hall outside.
There were muffled human voices behind him uttering short and direct callouts to each other, but Nek didn’t catch what they said. He was too occupied rolling to his feet and deciding whether to take the hall left or right. He ducked right, but no sooner had he done so did he see a dark shape round the corner up ahead.
The figure was hunched over in a combat stance, power walking with deliberate aggression. Looking very much like a UNSC marine in a motorcycle helmet, the figure’s gear was entirely black and pointed a rifle with a red laser sight. Upon seeing Nek, this enemy immediately muttered something and dropped to one knee, opening fire.
Nek had already turned and was running in the opposite direction, blind-firing behind him as bullets chased after him once more. He zig-zagged down the hall, wincing at the thought that any second now he’d get a round in the back.
Just then, a door swung open in front of him and another human clad in black combat gear emerged. Nek immediately sprang forward, tucking his legs in mid-air, hurling himself at the human like a flying bird-ball. He then twisted sideways and drove one leg out in a powerful kick, colliding into the human with enough force to smash him senseless against the door. Nek extended his other leg and landed on it, now facing the open doorway which he entered and closed behind him as the human crumpled to the floor behind him.
The frantic smuggler now found himself in a stairwell. After pausing for two deep, much needed breaths, he proceeded to fly down the stairs, slapping the concrete stairs beneath his rapidly peddling feet. After hurrying down several flights until he reached the bottom of the stairwell, he burst through the door and ended up in a long, dark, very tall tunnel.
He was now standing at the beginning of a metal grate walkway running near the ceiling. The floor down below, the walls, and the ceiling were all entirely dark brown rock, obviously carved directly into the asteroid itself. At regular intervals there were work lights placed on the walls about head-height from ground level, but currently none of them were powered on.
Figuring his T’avoan legs could take the drop and the humans couldn’t, Nek decided to put some distance between himself and his pursuers by vaulting the railing and plummeting down to the rocky floor below. He landed in a crouch, stirring up tiny clouds of dust underfoot.
Nek hadn’t noticed until now, but it was eerily quiet down here in the dark. Did he lose them? Maybe. Or maybe it was him that was lost. Suddenly Nek realized that he had no idea where he was going or what he was doing. Typical. At any rate, he still had to find his way back to the ship. He stood up, straightened and dusted off his jacket, and looked around.
The wide main tunnel appeared to stretch endlessly into darkness in both directions. Many smaller tunnels in the walls branched off from the main one, twisting deeper into the asteroid. Nek wondered how he was supposed to decide which way to go. He looked one way, than the other. Then he looked back again, only to jump with a startled squawk.
Someone was standing there in the middle of the dark tunnel where nobody was just a split-second ago. And it wasn’t one of the humans either. Nek gaped in bewilderment. It was a T’avoan.
Even for one of his kind, this one was of an impressive size. He was fully clad in armor, all black and devoid of any color or markings. Even his long sweeping mane of feathers was jet black. But then there were the eyes. His helmet optics burned a glaring red, arranged in two pairs of angular slits that looked like four demonic eyes squinting out from the darkness.
“W-Who are you?” Nek stammered.
No answer. The other T’avoan remained perfectly silent, perfectly still.
Nek couldn’t help recall that nobody was supposed to be in this place, and the only other people who were, also dressed in scary tactical black, just tried to kill him. He raised his M6D defensively. “What do you want?”
Again, no answer.
“Are you with those humans? Huh!? Why are they trying to kill me?!”
Nek suddenly heard a noise from above. His eyes darted up, and his heart sank heavy with dismay at the sight of several humans dropping fast-ropes over the railing of the walkway above.
When his eyes darted back to where the T’avoan was, nothing was there.
Before Nek could comprehend what just happened, the dark was lit up with muzzle flashes from the humans as they slid down their ropes. Nek turned to run, but was caught in the open and all out of luck.
Bullets tore through his body as he tried to make a break for one of the side tunnels. His legs, his right arm, his side – it all exploded in pain. He saw his own blood spray through the air.
Nek collapsed into the nearest tunnel, weakly using his good remaining limb to slowly, excruciatingly, drag himself into as much cover as possible. He thought he felt another round rip into one of his legs. All he could hear was gunfire and his own pained breathing, eyes blurry and screwed up in agony.
Once he was in the side tunnel, all he could do was lay there face down. He twisted his head to look over his shoulder and angled the pistol in his left hand to point in the general direction behind him. Maybe he could take one out before they got him. Then again, he wondered if he had enough strength to even pull the trigger. It wasn’t long before one of them appeared, striding over to him casually, already assured of victory. Nek attempted to shoot, but, of course, the magazine was empty. No defiant ending after all.
The human lifted his weapon and took aim. But right then, before he could fire, the unexpected happened…
A sizzling noise preceded a glowing blue orb arcing through the air. It flew over the humans head, presumably to land among the others as several voices of alarm cried out. The human about to execute Nek was distracted by this, and turned just to witness a blue explosion as the plasma grenade detonated.
Nek couldn’t see what was going on, but he could hear mass chaos erupt. There was more loud automatic gunfire, shouting, the sharp hiss of plasma fire, and a clamor of rapid feet approaching.
The human turned, releasing two long bursts down the main tunnel. He then reached for a knife at his belt, but too late. A golden-armored T’avoan Champion pounced on him, tackling him to the ground and jammed a wrist blade into his neck. The Champion quickly withdrew the blade and held up her arms like a boxer. A barrage of bullets bounced of her forearm-mounted energy shields.
More Covenant Skirmishers went darting through the tunnel, rushing past the Champion to engage the humans as she looked to her side and saw Nek laying there.
“Here he is!” she shouted, “He’s badly wounded! Return him to the Phantom!”
“Yes Mistress!” Nek heard a reply shouted back.
As he felt himself being gathered up and carried away, Nek was pretty sure he recognized the Champion. This must be the illustrious Kael Gel. So… the Fleet of Particular Justice noticed he was late, huh? Damn. This would be difficult to explain to Garatus.
But at least he was alive. After being returned to the fleet and healed, he learned that Tel and most of the rest of his crew managed to escape with the
Speed Streak as well.
Nobody was ever able to figure out who those people in the mining facility were, though, or what this incident was all about.
And although he never saw the black-armored T’avoan again, Nek was haunted by those eyes for a long, long time afterward.
***
With her head bowed in deep thought, Kael strode through the purple corridors of the ship, reflecting on what just happened regarding extracting the mercenaries. A large door automatically parted as she approached, admitting her into the Field Marshal’s chamber.
“Til,” she said somberly. “We need to talk.”
END
