Reina Belís

What Captain Reina Belís could care less about the intricate engravings, powerful caliber, ruthless recoil, or intrinsic value of a custom made .50 revolver. The thing that tickled her every time it captured her gaze in the captain’s quarters of the UNSC Mockingbird, was that someone would use such a beautiful yet delicate wooden grip, and pin it on a frame made of flame-forged titanium-A alloy. It was like putting 21st-century kevlar on a suit of MJOLNIR that would only ever be dashed with plasma. Of course the revolver was never meant to see combat. It was a ceremonial gift for her promotion to captain, from a “special friend” who worked for the infamous Office of Naval Intelligence. If worst came to worst, six rounds of .50 caliber bullets engraved with the UNSC’s eagle emblem that sat in a velvet case beside it would do the trick on any fool overconfident enough to confront her. 
Reina was no pushover, and with her connections to ONI, she received unique perks. Such as an ask-and-you-shall-receive policy when it came to viewing classified ONI documents on lost and off the record facilities. Someone after all, has to make sure that the hundreds of sensitive military documents scattered across the galaxy don't fall into the wrong hands. She had also received a direct order from ONI to destroy any and all facilities that contained data that would give the Created an advantage over the UNSC’s already ill-fated attempt to fight back. 
This message couldn’t be sent over normal communications without risking it being found and decrypted by rogue AI however. Instead the message was relayed by a tried and true centuries old method. Reina met face-to-face with an undercover ONI officer who had snuck aboard the UNSC Sign of Tomorrow alongside some “injured” refugees, who were no-doubt planted there to have him retrieved by the converted medical frigate. She hoped the refugees were highly compensated for risking their lives sitting around on a backwater planet with nothing but an distress beacon, and minimal rations, waiting for a ship that might never come. She also hoped that Captain Jackson Millis of the UNSC Sign of Tomorrow wouldn't find it odd how they had stumbled across their distress beacon in the same system as an entirely unrelated high-priority search directive. Despite their methods, ONI was successful with their ploy. Reina had her new directives, coordinates, and a fresh supply of ammunition as a parting gift from Millis after they had departed from their scheduled rendezvous. Balancing supplies, and doing it covertly was key to surviving the Created, and if she was honest with herself, she found the game of cat and mouse to be exhilarating. 
Reina had lived in and out of military bases, warzones, crumbling cities, and the haunting surface of glassed planets. She had marched across the countless heaps of bodies that had been burned and melted into an unending sea of black rock by the glassing beams of covenant ships. Their glowing plasma striking down like showers of liquid hate from unsightly silhouettes that glided across the sky. The scents she collected in her memory there tainted her every breath, the noxious fumes of burnt fuel, the revolting smell of seared flesh and hair, the gunpowder from her pistol as she finished off her only surviving comrade to put him out of his misery. With every step she took on the stairs down to hell, one thing would always pull her back up, only to maker her take them back down again: Fear. Fear had driven her to be stronger, faster, and more ruthless than any captain the Covenant would have the misfortune of meeting in battle. Fear would be the downfall of the Created, for she would teach them fear, and fear would teach Reina how to survive.
Category:Character