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Terminal.png This article, Foundations/Insanity, was written by UnggoyZealot. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission.
Protagonist Dipdip
Author UnggoyZealot
Date Published July 22, 2018
Length 1237 words
Previous Story Defiance
Story Series Foundations

Insanity is a short story in the Foundations collection that centers around the Unggoy Dipdip being reassigned to multiple lances after he is diagnosed with Battle Disorder during a traumatizing battle. It is the fifth of six short stories that will be written for the series.

Character Cast

58th Unit // Cycle 59 // Ninth Age of Reclamation

Location: Aboard CPV-class heavy destroyer Gauntlet of the Ancients

Reassignment was a first for Dipdip. The little Unggoy had only served in one lance before, but all of the other members were dead now. Killed by that Demon. Dipdip still had it vividly drawn out in his head. His Sangheili Major in charge, the first one to fall to the onslaught. The Minors were next, and the stupid Kig-Yar couldn’t even save themselves with their shields. But what really got to Dipdip was when his fellow Unggoy were killed. That part had gotten him out of his comfort zone, scared him into hiding in their Shadow as the human atrocity had mowed down his friends as easy as a Covenant firing squad executed heretics. But in that moment, he had actually gotten angry, no, more than that, an unstoppable rage to take revenge for his fellow Covenant. And then the former Minor had taken a fuel rod cannon from the troop carrier’s reserves, and the only thing he remembered was laughing as he blasted away, killing that godsforsaken thing that killed his friends.

The only thing Dipdip thought of now when he recalled the event was that it was hilarious. It truly was. Him, a little Unggoy killing a Demon, now that was funny. But none of his superiors seemed to think so. He did get a promotion to Major, however, and was allowed to keep his cannon, reward for killing the Demon. Although his Field Master Zholos ‘Fenossee had examined him, and came up with a surprising result; Dipdip was diagnosed with a common Covenant term for any traumatic syndrome, Battle Disorder. ‘Fenossee said that his laughing at the traumatization, which was the battle was just another thing to support his theory. Now, the Major was being reassigned to a new lance, this one much larger and boasting a large amount of Kig-Yar and Sangheili, enough to rival the lance’s Unggoy population.

Dipdip was now walking to his new quarters, escorted by a pair of Sangheili Minors. When they reached their destination, the doors to the dorms slid open, revealing a Sangheili Major. The Minors gave Dipdip an encouraging push forward, and saluted to the Major before leaving. The Major looked down on Dipdip with a look of curiosity on his face, and paused a moment before greeting the new addition.

“Greetings, Unggoy. I am Dezal ‘Kodaree, the officer in charge of this lance. As I know from the Field Master, you have Battle Disorder?”

Dipdip snorted through his nozzle. “If he say so. Me don’t think I do, but ‘Fenossee be boss, so he be expert!”

Dezal stared at Dipdip, disappointed with his lack of vocabulary. “Very well then. I hope you will find yourself a place in our humble lance, and may the gods shine favor on you in our next battle. I congratulate you on the feat of slaying a Demon, both avenging your fallen comrades and dealing the enemies a huge blow all at once.”

Dipdip giggled, not being able to help himself. “No big deal. It was funny for me to kill them, and at least my cannon saved me. It be good friend.” Dipdip hefted up his fuel rod gun and patted it, and gave Dezal a reassuring smile, even though the Sangheili could never see it under the mask.

Dezal just moved aside so Dipdip could come in, and stayed silent. The Unggoy waddled into his new abode, and gazed at his surroundings. There were indeed quite a few Kig-Yar and Sangheili. Dipdip passed by them, ignoring the cold stares that he received. He reached his cot, and prepared to sit down when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“You’re in my cot, gas sucker.”

Dipdip whipped around to see a Kig-Yar standing behind him, a menacing snarl painted on his face. “Move it, Unggoy. Otherwise I’ll test how long you can go without your precious methane.”

“Nice joke! But I won’t give up this cot here to a feather-face.”

The Kig-Yar balled up his fists, and the quills on his back raised as he retorted, “Hey buddies, let’s teach this Unggoy a lesson!” Two of the Ruutian’s brethren stood nearby, and strode over for what must have been a common thing in the lance. One helped the first grab Dipdip and restrain him, while the other grabbed his fuel rod. Dipdip gaped as his gun was taken away and looked up. “You take me gun! Me not happy!”

The Kig-Yar just laughed. “Now this is hilarious!” As one went to unscrew Dipdip’s nozzle, he felt the surge of rage from before return to him, and it gave him strength. The Major grabbed the avian with a hold on his mask and pushed them off, before grabbing the leader and shoving him to the ground. The former tried to take his arm, but Dipdip just shrugged them off and returned to his assault on the leader. He took hold of the Kig-Yar’s neck and started to squeeze, using his thick hands as leverage. “Let’s see how much you last without air!”

The soldier tried to breath for air, but the Unggoy held tight, using his gas tank as a shield from the other two Kig-Yar, who were now trying to save their friend rather than kill Dipdip. At this point, the Sangheili started to rise, and one looked on in disbelief while another contacted ‘Kodaree. By the time Dezal had the Sangheili Minors haul him away, the Kig-Yar had coughed and wheezed a few times before going still. His buddies had screeched in despair while the Sangheili shook their heads in disappointment, but Dipdip just found it amusing. Because it was. One of the funniest things me ever did.

“I am disappointed. I truly am, Major Dipdip. You had potential for killing a Demon, but I must assume that the Battle Disorder was too much for you to operate in a normal combat environment. And for that, I must assign you to a penal lance where you will do the least amount of damage to our resources. And maybe you will fit in more with those that are like you. I have seen this many times, so do not think this is the first. You are lucky you retain your rank, and if it helps, your weapon.”

Zholos had quite the time giving that speech, and Dipdip knew it. No matter what he said, Dipdip knew that he was glad to get the Unggoy off his shoulders. But as long as he had his new friend, his fuel rod cannon, he was content. Dipdip was soon escorted to his new quarters once again, but this time by a whole lance of Minors. When he arrived, Dipdip could see it was small. Only an Unggoy, a Kig-Yar sniper, and a Sangheili Minor. The Sangheili growled at Dipdip, acting like he owned the place.

“So, you are the Demon slayer? Bah! I could kill you with my bare hands. You are no match for Boro ‘Vasaan!”

The Kig-Yar chuckled. “Ya got anything of value? I need some stuff for when we get back to the market.”

“Ignore them,” said the Unggoy as he greeted Dipdip. “Me Roopum, Kig-Yar sniper is Wez, and our self-proclaimed leader is Sangheili Boro ‘Vasaan. Greetings, and welcome to lance, even though we an odd assortment.” It is an odd assortment, Dipdip thought. But even as he thought of it, the inevitable happened. He found it funny.

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