Kurt wasn’t sure if it was ironic or just plain sad that being kidnapped had become something of an old hat for him. How many times in your life could you find yourself shanghaied against your will into a different life at the behest of some shadowy and hidden figure?
For a Spartan like the former Kurt-051, that number topped out over three per life which was really two times too many. A part of him resented Catherine Halsey for kidnapping him at age six to force him and his fellow Spartan trainees into the boot camp from Hell. But only a very small part of him because the larger part of Kurt was willing to do it all over again so that he could he could serve as humanity’s shield against the likes of the Covenant and Insurrection.
But that life was now perhaps a million worlds again and he’d found himself thrust into a new place unlike anything he’d ever known filled with aliens and humans so different from what he knew that they might as well be aliens themselves. The Cetagandans claimed they didn’t know how the so-called “Exotics” had found themselves here and made lipservice promises about finding a way of getting them home but Kurt wasn’t so trusting. While he wasn’t an expert in Slipspace or the intensive calculations required to navigate it, things like rogue wormholes appearing out of nowhere to suck people in were unheard of. Even the Covenant who had mastered the art of in-space jumps and pinpoint accuracy with their Slipspace capabilities couldn’t manage such a feat.
Either way, it was pointless in a way to obsess over the how or why but he instead needed to focus his efforts in finding a way to return home.
Assuming he even could. He privately wondered if something with the closing Forerunner slipspace...whatever it had been coupled with his last few cognizant memories of trying to blow the Covenant up with a few nukes was somehow to blame for his current predicament. Maybe he was trapped in some slipspace bubble here and didn't know it. The true extent of their technology was still unknown to him and way beyond his paygrade.
Something had gone seriously awry in his trip here and he’d found himself…diminished in ways he never thought possible. Tonight, he was missing his near superhuman vision and increased night vision as he crept from shadow to shadow in the dead of night. The Cetagandan had made it abundantly clear that the Exotics were supposed to stay within their set area after dark and he was technically breaking the unstated curfew but if he wanted to get some real information and some truths then he had to go out and find itself rather than waiting to be spoon-fed it by his maybe captors.
Thus far, he’d managed to avoid detection but he could hear yet another patrol heading down the promenade near him so he ducked deep into an alcove in hopes that the deep cover of darkness would hide his near seven-foot frame.
The very last thing he expected to find in that shadowy corner however was another person whom he unfortunately body checked into hard.
TEAM SIGMA
For a Spartan like the former Kurt-051, that number topped out over three per life which was really two times too many. A part of him resented Catherine Halsey for kidnapping him at age six to force him and his fellow Spartan trainees into the boot camp from Hell. But only a very small part of him because the larger part of Kurt was willing to do it all over again so that he could he could serve as humanity’s shield against the likes of the Covenant and Insurrection.
But that life was now perhaps a million worlds again and he’d found himself thrust into a new place unlike anything he’d ever known filled with aliens and humans so different from what he knew that they might as well be aliens themselves. The Cetagandans claimed they didn’t know how the so-called “Exotics” had found themselves here and made lipservice promises about finding a way of getting them home but Kurt wasn’t so trusting. While he wasn’t an expert in Slipspace or the intensive calculations required to navigate it, things like rogue wormholes appearing out of nowhere to suck people in were unheard of. Even the Covenant who had mastered the art of in-space jumps and pinpoint accuracy with their Slipspace capabilities couldn’t manage such a feat.
Either way, it was pointless in a way to obsess over the how or why but he instead needed to focus his efforts in finding a way to return home.
Assuming he even could. He privately wondered if something with the closing Forerunner slipspace...whatever it had been coupled with his last few cognizant memories of trying to blow the Covenant up with a few nukes was somehow to blame for his current predicament. Maybe he was trapped in some slipspace bubble here and didn't know it. The true extent of their technology was still unknown to him and way beyond his paygrade.
Something had gone seriously awry in his trip here and he’d found himself…diminished in ways he never thought possible. Tonight, he was missing his near superhuman vision and increased night vision as he crept from shadow to shadow in the dead of night. The Cetagandan had made it abundantly clear that the Exotics were supposed to stay within their set area after dark and he was technically breaking the unstated curfew but if he wanted to get some real information and some truths then he had to go out and find itself rather than waiting to be spoon-fed it by his maybe captors.
Thus far, he’d managed to avoid detection but he could hear yet another patrol heading down the promenade near him so he ducked deep into an alcove in hopes that the deep cover of darkness would hide his near seven-foot frame.
The very last thing he expected to find in that shadowy corner however was another person whom he unfortunately body checked into hard.