Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction / Halo - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Master Chief vs. General Grievous ❯ The Brutes ( Chapter 8 )

 

Chapter 7:

The Brutes

 

Grievous and his squad were escorted off the ship by Elite pilots. The general was getting quite excited in seeing what a Brute was and how he would interact with them, whether it be in a friendly or grisly manner. Grievous looked over to `Ritamee, who seemed to hide the feelings inside from the approaching Brute allies, if they would act like allies had yet to be determined.

 

The two grey-armored pilot Elites, who usually manned Banshees instead of actual ships, turned on their heels at the doorway, saying their respects to the general before walking silently back to their Banshees, and go back to patrol. The cyborg looked around, through the glass to the beautiful and peaceful environment of a planet the Covenant decided to spare as a supply planet, it sickened him. What made him most angry, was that when he was an actual, living, breathing Kaleesh, his world was dead, everything his people needed had either died, or gone away, and that forced his kind into war with many species, which ended up with him getting stuck in his cyborg body.

 

The doors slid open to Grievous's surprise and he jumped a bit as he looked into a massive well-lit chamber, filled with squawks of Jackals, cries from Grunts as they spoke English to one another, laughing at the same time and making fun of the way humans spoke, and the low growls from Elites as they spoke to one another.

 

Suddenly a powerful roar boomed through the chamber and shook everyone, including Grievous. He looked to the door opposite of the one he and his squad was walking through and he got his first glimpse of a Brute, several for that matter, including a more muscular Brute with a distinct Mohawk on his head. Everyone froze at the sight of the Brute leader and his team of five Brutes, all of them resembling a cross between a gorilla and rhinoceros.

 

“Are those Brutes?” Grievous asked `Ritamee, who responded with a click of his mandibles. Grievous's eyes narrowed as he led his team toward the Brutes, the Brute team seemingly did the same once their leader caught sight of Grievous. The Grunts, Jackals, and Elites all backed away from the center, teams of both the Brute leader and Grievous stopped to let their leader go toward the other. Grievous and the Brute leader stopped just a few feet away from each other. The Brute grunted through his nostrils as he stood up straighter, extending his chest, and growled.

 

“And is this the General Grievous I heard so much about? HA! Looks like an old, withered chunk of metal.” Grievous's yellow eyes narrowed, and he knew instantly, that the Brutes were going to be a problem with him. The Brute crashed a massive fist into his even more massive chest, causing a loud thump, saying. “I am Tartarus, chieftain of the Brutes.”

 

“And you already know my name.” Grievous growled. Tartarus looked over to Grievous's team, composed mostly of Grunts and Jackals, and laughed.

 

“Is that your team?” He asked, laughing. Grievous looked over his shoulder, and saw as Hular stepped forward.

 

“We are better than you think!” The Grunt barked. “Under Lord Grievous's commander skills, we defeated a ship of Flood!” Tartarus cocked his head to the side, smiling.

 

“Is that so?” He extended an open hand and a Brute dropped a plasma pistol into it. Tartarus's fingers wrapped around the weapon, though not his favorite, he aimed it and shot Hular's leg and caused the Grunt to collapse. Hular cried out in pain as he fell but was caught by Ruk and Yupitar. Grievous shot a glare at Tartarus as he chuckled and toss the pistol back to his snickering group.

 

“What is this? Some meaty making fun of ME? General Grievous?!” Grievous asked himself. A robotic, clawed hand shot out from his robe and wrapped itself around the Brute chieftain's throat, hoisting him up off the ground, even getting a satisfying cough from Tartarus out of it. He didn't think he could hate a fellow Covenant, but having seen a Covenant shoot his own comrade, not just that, his most loyal comrade, he wasn't about to forgive Tartarus for what he just did. He looked back at Hular.

 

“Take him to get some rest. The wound will heal.” He watched as Ruk and Yupitar carried to Grunt away to their cabin area, which `Jemomee had told them where to go earlier. Grievous shot his glare back to Tartarus, then tossed the Brute away. Tartarus backed away, rubbing his neck for comfort, but kept a straight face, something Grievous couldn't help but respect, yet still despise.

 

“Your stronger than you look Grievous, I'm sure this Master Chief all these cowards speak of would be quite surprised to see you, that is if he didn't shoot it in the face like I hear he does to all the scum here.” Grievous's eyes narrowed, as he approached Tartarus, and brought his skull mask face up less than an inch away from the Brute's ape-like face.

 

“I've met the Master Chief, twice, and trust me, he is nothing to underestimate.” He growled. Tartarus grinned.

 

“I can handle any human, no matter the strength or speed it has. They all look alike, they all die alike.” With a grunt, Grievous turned on his heel and walked away from the Brute chieftain; his squad looked back at Tartarus and followed their leader.

 

 

`Hetamee stood alone in the control room of his ship, his eyes filled with anxiety and fright. His mandibles clacked nervously as his arms twitched every few seconds. His arms were crossed, and he stared blankly at the holographic screens before him. The Elite's mind was spinning, here he was, with an utmost hatred and fright of the Brutes, and he was stuck on a planet with the beasts. He was one of the few still on the ship, this was the only place he was safe from the Brutes he believed. While everyone else was having a great time eating and drinking in the Covenant lounges on this near paradise planet.

 

Something caught the ship's motion tracker and some sort of alarm let out, warning that an unidentifiable spacecraft was drifting toward the rest area. `Hetamee unfolded his arms, and he cocked his head as he looked at the image of the ship that popped up in a new holographic screen. It was sleek, designed for speed, and dark, almost a black color. It was surely a non-Covenant vehicle.

 

“I shall report this and get it taken care of…wait…if this is a human invasion…HA! We can take care of them in no time.” The Elite thought to himself and chuckled. He heard the doors behind him open and he spun around, nearly loosing his balance, seeing that `Letomee was there.

 

“Ah, `Letomee, you gave me quite a fright.” `Hetamee said nervously. `Letomee nodded in respect.

 

“Forgive me sir. But why are you not in there? You need rest.” He walked up the ramp toward the Elite who was becoming his mentor.

 

“Are there Brutes in there?” `Hetamee asked once the scarlet-armored Elite finished his way up the ramp.

 

“Yes sir, and their leader, Tartarus, seems to have made an enemy out of Grievous.”

 

“Doesn't surprise me.” `Hetamee muttered. `Letomee grunted and nodded.

 

“Sir, I have thought much about what you told me, and I see where you are going, but sir…why can't the Covenant stick together? We would win this war if we did.” `Hetamee looked up at the young Elite.

 

“An innocent question you ask my friend. But the Prophets do seem to show less interest in our kind anymore, if you haven't noticed.” He said. `Letomee nodded.

 

“I have sir; our difficult missions have been handed over to Brutes, and I noticed that Elites are becoming to be less important to the Prophets.” `Hetamee's eyes narrowed and he turned around, his back to the red Elite.

 

“So what I have predicted is coming true…damn.” He turned to `Letomee again. “I was hoping it wouldn't happen.” `Letomee nodded his head toward the door.

 

“Come sir, you need some rest, and something to eat.” He said. `Hetamee grumbled something but couldn't truly utter it. `Letomee led `Hetamee out of the command room and into the base.

 

 

Tartarus had assigned two Brutes into Grievous's squad. Grievous, too angry to confront his new members, had `Ritamee take their names and give them their positions. The sapphire-armored Elite stood with a holographic notepad of some sort hovering before him, the two Brutes stood in front of him as well, scowling.

 

“Names please.” `Ritamee said, as politely as possible. The two Brutes looked at each other, exchanging rude glares for the Elite and they look back at him as one.

 

“Weralter.” The bulkier Brute growled.

 

“Patark.” The other muttered.

 

“Thank you.” `Ritamee said, letting his words pass as a rude grumble. He wrote the names in the holographic notepad with his clawed finger and pressed a button on the corner of the screen, which shut it off and it returned to his suit. Weralter and Patark bared their teeth at the Elite, showing their hatred for his kind, instead of returning the favor by flaring his mandibles, `Ritamee nodded in respect and turned. “You may file out to your cabins. You shall speak with Grievous later.” He walked off, leaving the dark room through a pair of sliding doors.

 

“Why did Tartarus have to sign us to this pathetic group?” Patark asked, followed by a rough grunt. Weralter snorted and stormed off, through the other pair of doors, leaving Patark alone in the dark room.