Halo 3:Unggoy/Chapter 3

==Before Reading==
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:(Note:Special thanks to User:Specops306 and User:-Ascension- for showing me how to implement these videos onto these articles. Whoo!)
==Chapter 3:The Mountain Pushers==
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It was the news heard by every person in High Charity, that the Prophet of Regret had left for The Ark. But there was one message that was heard far more by every Elite, that the Supreme Commander of the Fleet had been sentenced, was branded, and soon would face death… or Arbiter.
Thousands came to view the ceremony, cheered as the heretic was branded with the Mark of Shame. But some stayed home and refused to watch. Those were Elites.
Them, and one breathless Grunt.
“MastersmehavecometobarracksonimportantbussinessforthehonorofForerunnersOracleandGreatJourney! Whoo!” Honcha leaned against a wall to rest. He had sure wandered far away the first time!
The Elites weren’t looking too pleased. “Unggoy… why are you here?”
“Important business! Dreadnought! Oracle! He tell me to come here!” Major Horaw’ee was confused. The Oracle was speaking? To an Unggoy? Some liar.
“You! He was the one!” snarled an Elite behind him. It was Minor Gareg’ee and he was thirsty for revenge. “You were the one who tried to steal my wife! And now, look!” A sturdy sling had been wrapped around Gareg’ee’s arm. The Ultra had given him a very severe thrashing by the looks of it. “For this, you must DIE!”
“Menotknowofwife, mejustwantedtotalk,pleasenohurt,PLEASENOHURT!” The Unggoy was clearly out of his mind. Major Horaw’ee was no slave sympathizer but decided to go easy on him.
“Unggoy, currently your mind remains deluded and unsecure. Our suggestion is that you leave us now, feed of your food nipple, and bother us no more.” Food nipple? thought Honcha. Ah, yes! How long had it been since he had last eaten? Come to think of it, his belly was pretty grumbly! Maybe the Oracle’s mission could wait.
“Unggoy!” yelled Gareg’ee “Do you think you can simply just walk away and expect to be forgiven? No, no forgiveness is given for Heretics!”
“And the Arbiter?” asked one Elite in the back. Gareg’ee looked at him in surprise. “Arbiter? There is no Unggoy Arbiter!”
“Well, why not?” It was Kahn Deer’ee. He had always been a foreign one. “There is no Unggoy Arbiter”, explained Gareg’ee, “Because no Unggoy ever merits worship!”
“But every Unggoy merits punishment, don’t they?”
“Yes, but as an Arbiter would be idiocy!”
“I can be Arbiter! I can be GOOD Arbiter!” The Elites turned to look at Honcha. The whole battalion was now listening closely. An UNGGOY Arbiter?
“We are in desperate need for a Arbiter”, said Deer’ee, “And if our Commander is executed instead, we shall be in dearth for one, sey? So, make him Arbiter!” 
Gareg’ee could only stammer. “But… but… But that’s not the law!”
“Dog off, Ranze, we’re the Mountain Pushers! Since when have we ever valued the law?”
Gareg’ee smiled. “Never, except to break it.” It was their old joke, and the whole battalion knew it. The Mountain Pushers were infamous for being one of the most ruthless lances around. Every mission, they received accolades and honor for single-handedly outwitting the odds, and simultaneously getting detentioned for deterrence of the other forces. The Mountain Pushers knew all the dirty ways to delay an rival lance, whether through obstacles, false trails, bribery, and sometimes “temporary” assassination. But temporary wasn’t a huge worry, the lance always got somebody new before long.
The others listened turned to the Major. He smiled approvingly, in the horrifying way that only an Elite can smile. Turning to Honcha, he said, “Very well, then Unggoy. We shall make you Arbiter.”
“But first!” yelled Gareg’ee. “You must pass the ’’test!’’”
“Wha-wha-what test?” stammered Honcha. All this be happening much too sudden!
“A test of your power”, said the Major. “It will show us whether you are truly a fighter!”
“The best who pass this test becomes Zealots!”, said Gareg’ee. “You shall become far more! You shall become Arbiter!”
Honcha failed to notice the secret flicker that passed between all the Elites. It was their way of saying to keep their eyes and ears open, the scheme was underway.
“So, do you accept, Unggoy?” said Deer’ee.
“Yes! Yes! The Oracle commands it!” The Elites smiled again. This fool was more gullible than that last Brute pack! Grabbing Honcha by the arm, they led him past the room and further down the barracks. 
Other Elites poked out their heads to see what was the commotion. Those lances looked at them with an expression of confusion. What was an Unggoy doing here?
The Unggoy in question didn’t seem to mind. He looked enthralled, actually. “What those rooms for?”
Deer’ee answered, “This is our city, or more correctly, our base. Everything you see here is for each lance. Those are the dormitories, this is the munitions center, and down that hallway are the eat rooms.”
“Eat rooms? For what?”
“Why, to eat, of course.” The Unggoy merely looked confused. Typical of them. They never understood how disgusting it was to EAT in public!
Finally they arrived at a hidden closet, which led to a long hallway. The walls were covered in filled with tall canisters, each big enough to fit a single Elite. Opening one of them, they yelled out “Enter your throne, Unggoy!” and soon Honcha was stuffed inside.
It was dark inside the canister, and Honcha could barely fit. His arms were pinned painfully up against the walls, and his gas tank had to be pointed downward to fit, forcing him to stare straight upward. Turning his head far down as he could, Honcha could hear the Elites arguing.
"Give him something easy to start off with, but pump it up about the middle. That will give us something entertaining."
"No! Start it off hard at first. We want him dead as fast as possible."
"The room can't kill him, Ranze."
"We can. Set the location to the planet Reach." Reach, though Honcha, that was the site of the Covenant’s last battle! Honcha had never been to Reach, but Gaafi had told him that it was no egg sip.
"Reach is almost pitful. Do Harvest, they will be much more punch there."
"Harvest is slaughter. We want suicide. Reach."
"Fine, Reach, but keep it dirty. And no allies, it's got enough slack as it is."
Horwa’ee's face appeared in the window. “How are you now?” asked the Major. “Comfortable?” Honcha whimpered. “Oh, so sad. But relax. And enjoy the ride!”
“Ride? What ride?” screamed Honcha. They didn’t tell him, the windows had shut, and soon it was all dark.
Then he felt it. It was a very vague feeling at first, but it steadily grew stronger. It was a feeling of churning in his stomach, of queasiness in his spine, of dizzy flashes, blinding his eyes, deafening his ears, his head blowing with sensation.
It was the feeling of him FALLING.
Honcha was now in an Orbital Insertion Pod, falling down to who-knows-where. Looking out the re-opened viewports, he could see the sky rushing away past him. There were thick fluffy clouds and enormous ships flying past. HUMAN ships.
Several clusters of pods passed him, some Covenant, some not. The ships overhead began shooting at them. Panic flooded through Honcha’s brain!
Gareg’ee’s face appeared on a screen. “Unggoy! You begin your first mission as Arbiter! Your goal: to engage the base on the planet Reach!”
Several of the falling pods around him had exploded. Honcha’s was the only one left. And the Human ship was turning to face him.
“Destroy the troops there, and you are our master. If not, well then… then find a good casket first!”
Shield was down... this wasn't looking very pleasy...
"Do you hear me, Unggoy?"
"Yes, yes, "Ee Minor!"
"Good, good, we'll be monitoring your every progress, so, relax!"
"Wait, you not be fighting with me?"
"No, no, an Arbiter works with NO ONE! Depends on NO ONE! Besides, who expects an Unggoy to infiltrate anything? Maybe they'll like you as pets and let you live!" Gareg'ee laughed an ugly laugh. Honcha shuddered but stayed watchful.
A pass through the cloud cover. The ships were gone. Honcha could already see the city down below. That's when he remembered something.
"Ah, Ee Minor?"
"Hmm?"
“Just one question, ‘Ee Minor. Where be the weapons located on this pod?”
"Hmm, weapons?"
"You know, weapons! Like to shoot with! Like Needler, or Pisto', or Green-aid, or..."
"Ah, weapons!" Gareg’ee smiled. “We don’t store weapons here, Unggoy! Here in The Mountain Pushers, our conduct has been always to bring your own lunch!”
Honcha hadn’t eaten lunch yet.
“In the words of the humans, Bon Appetite!”
==Links==
To be continued with… Chapter 4.
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