Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction / Halo - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Master Chief vs. General Grievous ❯ Commander Grievous ( Chapter 2 )

 

Chapter 1:

Commander Grievous

 

`Jemomee and `Letomee led Grievous to what seemed to be a waiting room of some sort. `Jemomee turned.

 

“Grievous, you must wait here, with `Letomee. I shall speak with the Prophets.” The Elite said. Grievous nodded, along with `Letomee. The gold-armored warrior turned and walked through the door, which appeared to be dark inside. `Letomee's head looked at Grievous, supported by his broad shoulders and long, strong neck.

 

“Take a seat if you wish.” He said, motioning to the seat behind the general. Grievous took the offer and saw down, as well as `Letomee.

 

 

`Jemomee entered the dark chamber, which had a single light shining in it, at the center, where a single Prophet and Elite stood, as if waiting for him. The Prophet was not a High Prophet, so he showed much less superiority compared to the three High Prophets, but still the other Covenant looked up to him. His massive head and large golden crown was supported by a skinny serpent-like neck. His body was covered in a valuable red robe, which sat on a hovering throne.

 

The Elite beside him was a smug being by the name of Nula `Nakimee. He wore grey armor and thought of himself as being much better than any other Elite, simply because he consulted with the Prophet on the ship. He had never even seen battle before, and was often laughed at when asked to fire the simplest of Covenant weapons, for he did not know how to work them.

 

“Ah, `Jemomee, the Prophet does not want to speak with you.” `Nakimee snapped and crossed his arms. The Prophet brought a skinny hand out, his long, bony fingers flexed out, and through this motion, ordered `Nakimee to silence. He looked down on `Jemomee with curious black eyes, obviously knowing of Grievous.

 

“My Prophet.” `Jemomee said and bowed.

 

“Suck up.” He heard `Nakimee mutter. `Jemomee rose up.

 

“The android we found my Prophet is by the name of Grievous, and claims to be a general.” The Prophet raised an eyebrow. `Jemomee hated how this Prophet preferred to be silent rather than speak. “And…'Letomee and I asked him to join the Covenant.”

 

“Wait?!” `Nakimee cried. “How DARE you and `Letomee ask a being to serve the Covenant without my or the Prophet's…” The Prophet brought his hand up to silence him again and looked down on `Jemomee, asking through his eyes why.

 

“He seems very skilled my Prophet, as well as intelligent and cunning.” The Prophet nodded, and looked over to `Nakimee, who scowled at `Jemomee. `Nakimee's eyes narrowed at `Jemomee after what the Prophet told him telepathically.

 

“Grr…the Prophet wishes to see this General Grievous you speak of.” `Jemomee smiled, at both the Prophet's generosity and `Nakimee's hatred in him, and nodded.

 

“Yes, I shall retrieve him my Prophet.” He turned and nearly ran out of the door.

 

 

Grievous and `Letomee were quite busy talking to one another about the other's weaponry.

 

“So what makes you so powerful in your line of warriors?” `Letomee asked. Grievous reached down under his cape and snatched a black and silver tube from his belt. He pulled it out and turned it on, a bright light flashed out and a blue sword appeared from the tube.

 

“It is a light saber, able to cut through many things, even steel.” He said in his low, powerful voice. `Letomee stared at the light saber in wonder, and remembered.

 

“Oh yes, the Covenant have something like that. We have Plasma Swords, only the best of the Elites have one. Come to think of it, I think `Jemomee has one.” Grievous's eyes narrowed with interest.

 

“Hmm…I'd like to see this Plasma Sword Sir `Jemomee has.” At that moment `Jemomee himself burst through the door.

 

“Grievous, the Prophet would like to see you.” He said, eagerly. Grievous stood up and walked past `Jemomee into the dark chamber. He saw the Prophet, and `Nakimee, who's scowled in his mandibles and hatred in his eyes made him know he was not welcome.

 

“General Grievous, as `Jemomee has informed us.” `Nakimee growled. He turned his snout up in the air at the two. “Let's see what you can really do.” The Prophet nodded and motioned for `Jemomee to back away. Grievous looked around into the darkness and knew something was in there. The room suddenly lit up and the Prophet and `Nakimee hovered up into the air, out of harm's way. In the now lit room, there were a dozen Grunts, armed with plasma pistols or needlers, four Jackals whose shields glowed (Grievous wondered why they didn't glow in the dark room before) who were armed with plasma pistols, and two blue-armored Elites, armed with plasma rifles.

 

General Grievous's cape was tossed over his shoulders to reveal his skeletal frame, and with two hands, snatched a light saber and activated both. `Jemomee and `Nakimee were surprised at Grievous's skill as the general charged and sliced a Grunt clean in half with one saber, and impaled a Jackal with the other. He crouched down and spun quickly on his heels, slicing and slashing all the Grunts and Jackals too clumsy to get caught in his attack. Blue and purple blood oozed over the floor as only a few Jackals were left and the two Elites charged. He turned to one Elite and jumped into the air, spinning end over end several times before he landed in front of the warrior and brought both light sabers down, slicing the Elite's arms off. As the being roared Grievous sliced his head off. Grievous then spun on his heel and kicked the feet out from under the last Elite, causing him to fall to the floor. With his raptor-clawed foot, he pinned the Elite to the floor and looked up, seeing a Jackal over-charge a plasma shot. With an awesome throw, Grievous threw one of his light sabers and impaled the Jackal through the chest, killing it. The light saber turned off and fell from the dead Jackal, and fell to the floor.

 

Just as General Grievous was going to kill the last Elite, he heard clapping. He looked up, seeing the Prophet clap for him, and motion him to back down. Grievous nodded and took his clawed foot off of the Elite, who scrambled to his feet and thankfully bowed to him for sparing him. `Nakimee and the Prophet lowered to the ground.

 

“That…that was amazing!” `Nakimee said. “You must be a member of the Covenant.” Instead of the appreciation of `Nakimee, Grievous's yellow eyes were fixed on the Prophet, who was thinking of a decision. He slowly dropped to one knee.

 

“I would be honored, my lord, to be a Covenant.” He dropped his head down and bowed to the wise being.

 

“You may.” The Prophet boomed with his powerful, yet aged, voice. “It would be most wise I believe for you to join us Sir Grievous, for we were going to wipe your kind out no matter.” Grievous got to his feet, and smiled behind his mask.

 

“Thank you my lord.” He backed away, his head bowed. “Thank you.” He turned and the doors opened before him, and closed shortly after he passed. `Jemomee turned to the Prophet.

 

“And you, Juka `Jemomee, should be proud for bringing the Covenant such a powerful warrior. Be off now.” The Prophet waved the Elite away and `Jemomee did as he was commanded.

 

 

`Letomee rose to his feet and walked beside Grievous and `Jemomee down the endless halls and corridors of the Covenant vessel, listening to their small conversation. If it was one thing Grievous didn't like to do, it was to speak. Obviously, whoever trained him disciplined him very well, and `Jemomee found great respect in that.

 

“The Prophet seems quite pleased with you.” `Jemomee said. “I'm sure you will become one of the best the Covenant has to offer.”

 

“One of the best?” Grievous asked. His thin, lizard-like pupils glared at `Jemomee. “I will be the best.” `Jemomee merely nodded.

 

“Yes, I'm sure if you try, you can become the best.”

 

“Try?” Grievous asked, a slight chuckle came from his skull mask. “I can assure you `Jemomee, that no one can defeat me in battle. `Jemomee and `Letomee looked at each other.

 

“Are you sure?” `Letomee asked.

 

“Yes.” Grievous growled.

 

“How about the Spartan?” `Jemomee asked.

 

“Who is this Spartan? I will cast him down this very instant!” Grievous boomed. The three of them stopped, and Grievous's arms split, each one grabbed a light saber and ignited them, having four light sabers on at once. `Letomee jumped away from the surprise move, but `Jemomee didn't even twitch. Instead he crossed his arms and smiled at Grievous's frightening appearance.

 

“There is one the human who is responsible for many of our loses in the past, he is the Spartan, or the Demon.” He replied. Grievous calmed down and turned off his weapons, then put them back on his belt.

 

“Who?” He asked, his eyes narrowed.

 

“He has single-handedly killed hundreds of our troops, even our best fall to him.” `Letomee added.

 

“Who?!” Grievous asked again.

 

“I was spying over a human COM channel once, and I heard something about his name, Master Chief I believe it was.” `Jemomee said. “He has dealt with other gold-armored Elites such as I, any other Covenant, and has escaped Halo 04 from a Flood invasion.”

 

“Master Chief? Where can I find him?” General Grievous asked. `Jemomee shrugged.

 

“No one knows of his location. We don't even know if he escaped Halo 04.”

 

“Then why did you say he did?” Grievous asked next.

 

“Simply because he has surprised us many times before, and we wouldn't be surprised if he did escape. The only one we know who actually escaped is missing half of his mandibles.”

 

“Half-Jaw as we call him now.” `Jemomee added. Grievous grunted.

 

“You two are absolutely worthless! One day, I shall come across this Master Chief, and I shall take his head.” He turned and marched off, his white cape following him. `Letomee watched him leave and looked over to the older Elite.

 

“If he were to find the Spartan in battle, do you think he could kill him?” He asked. `Jemomee nodded, and looked to `Letomee.

 

“Listen young `Letomee, no matter what happens, you stick close to Grievous. Do whatever he tells you, and treat him with respect.”

 

“Why? What did he do in the Prophet's chamber?” `Letomee asked. `Jemomee didn't respond, instead, he walked down the hall opposite of which Grievous stormed down, leaving the scarlet-armored Elite alone, in silence.

 

 

Nula `Nakimee was scouting the halls; the Prophet had ordered him to find Grievous, and tell him his rank on the field. He scowled over Grievous, sure he respected him, but he was also very jealous of how he pleased the Prophet so well in the battle. He turned a corner and stumbled into the android himself. He sat up and froze when he heard a hiss, and a green light saber blade just inches away from his face.

 

“Who are you?” Grievous demanded. He narrowed his eyes and grunted. “Aw, it's the smug one.”

 

“Smug?!” `Nakimee barked. `Letomee appeared behind Grievous.

 

“Who is it Lord Grievous?” Grievous, who liked being called `Lord', looked at him and stepped away. “Oh, it's just `Nakimee.” He muttered and backed away.

 

“Just?” `Nakimee stumbled to his feet, growling at the Elite, and snapped to attention. “Grievous, the Prophet has confirmed your status on the battlefield.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Commander.”

 

“Commander?” Grievous snapped.

 

“Prophet's order, Commander Grievous.” `Nakimee grinned at Grievous's angered expression, and walked back to his post. Grievous's robotic hand formed into a fist, and shook with anger. He turned and stormed down the hall.

 

“Uh…Lord Grievous.” `Letomee said and ran after the android. “Don't worry about it, you'll still manage a large group of Grunts and Jackals, even command a few blue-armored Elites. Being a Commander isn't that bad really. I'm one.” `Letomee said reassuringly. Grievous appreciated the Elite's attention in his thoughts, but he was going to remain angry and aggressive until he got the title `General' once more. `Letomee caught up beside Grievous and patted him on the shoulder. “Hey, from what I hear, you'll be a General in no time.” Grievous glanced at him, and raised his head up a little higher.

 

“I know I shall become General Grievous once more.” He said proudly. He looked forward. “Nut what I really want right now is to find this Master Chief, and kill him.” Suddenly some sort of alarm went off, and an Elite's powerful voice boomed from small speakers in each room and hallway.

 

“Commander Grievous is to report to his post, along with his squad. That is all.” The speakers clicked off. Grievous and `Letomee looked at each other.

 

“Come along, I know where you must go.” The Elite said and led Grievous off.