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Guardians of the Sanctum by BansheeBoy
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Guardians of the Sanctum: -Prologue-
Date: 17 June 2004, 2:28 PM
Guardians of the Sanctum: -Prologue-
A time of peace, between the mighty Covenant juggernaut and the near extinct, primitive humans. A small team of armored humans extracted the High Prophet of Truth into human-controlled space. They forced a compromise of peace and it remained to the very day. But now small Covenant rebellions were flourishing. The proud elites and brutes, lived for combat. If they couldn't take on the humans, then they would take on the Covenant's leadership. And then the Human-Covenant war would continue and they would taste their primitive blood.
Ninth Age of Reclamation, Step of Silence Covenant Holy City
"High Charity," Sanctum of the Hierarchs.
Olos Rosmee climbed the rungs of the ladder with haste. The towering brute stumbled as a rusty rung collapsed under his immense weight. He quickly regained his balance and got back to the task at hand. Sweat dripped down his ugly face and fell to the ground, hundreds of meters below him. He paused to watch the drip as it fell into the deep gorge. A sudden pang of fear came over him. He had never been crazy about heights and he regretted it at that moment. He snapped out of it. He had to prove himself to the rest of the rebellion. Only then would he rise through the ranks. He neared the top of the purple-coloured tower. He climbed the final rungs of the ladder and heaved himself into the top of the tower.
A elite stood atop the tower, in polished gold armor. He was a hardened warrior. The elite knew what he was doing.
"What are you doing here, brute?" said the seven-foot beast with a hint of disgust. Rosmee didn't respond. He snarled and punched the elite in the bottom of the jaw. It was taken by surprise and clattered to the floor, gasping for oxygen. The elite might have been the strongest warrior in the universe, but it was also one of the dumbest. Probably the reason it was up here. Rosmee picked up the unconscious veteran and chucked him other the edge with little effort. He waited until he heard the soft thud of the gold-armored elite impacting against the ground below. The brute now turned his attention to the console at the elite had been guarding. His objective.
Rosmee strolled over to the hovering holographic panel. He wasn't an expert with electronics so his superior officers had given him a chip to insert into the console. That, he had been told, would do the job just as well. He took the small chip out of his pack and pushed it in. Rosmee stood back satisfied. His part in the mission was over. He picked his radio off his belt and turned it to their private COM channel. Rosmee knew his commanders were listening.
"The turrets are down" he growled.
A scarlet-armored elite patrolled the winding corridors of the Sanctum of the Hierarchs. Unlike most of the Guards of the Sanctum he had been chosen for brains, not brawn. His name was Aeas Mustamee. Despite what seemed like an age of service, he had never been in contact with a prophet. Instead he got his orders from a commanding officer. What was the point in guarding the Covenant leadership, if he didn't even know where they were in the sanctum. During his time there though he had only visited a quarter of the entire sanctum. He realised he was behind schedule so he sped up into a sort of jog. Mustamee only had one place left to patrol-First Fort. First Fort was in charge of all Covenant ships, coming and going. It was their job to stop infidels from entering the Prophet's sacred quarters. Mustamee jogged out of the sanctum, into the bright sunlight and onto the Steps of Silence. He slowly climbed down the five-foot tall steps. Ahead a bunch of jackals bunched around something. Only elites and brutes were allowed within the sanctum but all other types of Covenant guarded the outside. Mustamee sprinted over to see what they were squawking about. A gold-armored elite lay dead on the floor being ripped up by the jackal's beaks. Mustamee stepped back in disgust. What had happened?
Above where the dead elite lay was the guard tower. Not only was it a guard tower, it also hid the Sanctum's power controls. He'd report this. He continued on towards First Fort.
"Destroyer inbound" a rookie elite announced as Aeas Mustamee entered First Fort Control.
"I didn't think any ships were due for another twenty cycles" exclaimed Mustamee.
"I didn't either" replied the rookie. "They said their mission could only be discussed with the holy ones". Mustamee mulled this over.
"Rookie, are our plasma turrets functioning?" Mustamee asked. The rookie stared at his console.
"Hmm. They should be...no, they're not functioning. How strange" he answered. Suddenly everything fit together. Mustamee ran to the intercom and switched it on.
"Guardians of the Sanctum, prepare for battle. Be warned, you will be fighting your own brothers".
Guardians of the Sanctum: (Part 01) -A New Foe-
Date: 20 June 2004, 7:21 AM
Guardians of the Sanctum: (Part 01) -A New Foe-
Note-This is Part 01 of BansheeBoy's Guardians of the Sanctum series.
Ninth age of Reclamation, Step of Silence Covenant Holy City
"High Charity," Sanctum of the Hierarchs.
The High Prophet of Truth sat, legs crossed, humming in deep meditation. He sat atop a ten-foot tall throne, towering above even the mighty hunters. This showed that the prophet was above everyone else in the Covenant caste system. Of course only ceremonial guardians (or brutes) and the greatest elite warriors could even think about stepping foot in the Sanctum of the Hierarchs. Hunters were just the muscle of the operation and in no way sacred. The Prophet's hum echoed throughout his sacred quarters, the tune painting his thoughts. Some said that the Prophet's hum could aid the greatest warriors, but could be just as deadly to it's enemies. It hypnotised them. No one could witness the Prophet's meditation, not even the ceremonial guardians. Anyone that entered would be executed or worse, given to the jackals.
A gold-armored elite stood outside the Prophet's quarters, closely eyed by two lumbering brutes. He was simply known as the High Guard. He waited patiently, but even a great warrior like himself would soon begin to lose his temperament. And time was of the essence. But then he heard the Prophet's hum become higher in pitch. This sound was rather creepy but it pleased the High Guard. It meant the lengthy ceremony was nearing it's end. That was very good as sometimes the hum could last over eight-hundred cycles. They simply did not have that amount of time. The Prophet's wailing finally came to an abrupt halt and silence once again filled the halls of the inner Sanctum.
"You may enter!" growled one of the ceremonial guards.
The High Guard marched into the Prophet's quarters, nervousness rearing it's ugly head. Questions started flooding his mind. When should I bow? How low do I bow? What do I say? All to be expected when confronting the Covenant leadership, especially when they could have you destroyed with a click of their fingers. He decided he'd rather have a plasma torpedo speeding towards him than be in the position he was in now. Ironic really, you could be the bravest warrior on the battlefield but when you met with your superiors you froze up. The High Guard would be dead now though if he was on the battlefield. He was almost vibrating with fear before he realised he had to bow. The High Guard's polished gold chest plate scathed the floor in his low bow. Sweat trickled down his face as he closed his eyes. The High Guard tried to keep his mind empty. The tiniest negative thought about the Prophet and he would be eliminated. He awaited the Prophet's greeting.
The High Guard began to wonder if the High Prophet of Truth was finding this amusing. Not only was he sweating from the pressure the High Guard had begun to suffer from the strain of bowing this low. Suddenly the Prophet's voice filled the air.
"Arise High Guardian of the Sanctum" commanded the Prophet. "Now, what is it you came to discuss?". The High Guard stood to attention. He looked calm, but he was still as nervous as when he had arrived.
"Your holiness" exclaimed the High Guard nervously. "Infidels have infiltrated our outer defences. They are assaulting First Fort as we speak, but the Guardians of the Sanctum are holding their ground. We shall not fail!". The Prophet stared up into the grand halls of which he resided in, mulling it over.
"I hope, for your sake, they don't fail. No infidels shall tint the Sanctum of Hierarchs with their evil" shrieked the Prophet. The High Guard gulped.
"Yes your holiness. With that I shall take my leave" he announced. The gold-armored elite bowed low once again, before arising, turning on his heel and speeding away. He let out the breath he had been holding for what seemed like an age. The High Guard never wanted to return to the Prophet's chamber again, at least with bad news.
Aeas Mustamee charged down the corridors of First Fort, plasma rifle in hand. A pair of special ops grunts swerved round the bend in front of Mustamee, plasma pistols charged. The elite commando-rolled out of the first beams path but was hit square in the chest by the second charged blast. His shields flashed and then failed. Mustamee felt a small pang of pain but he managed to fight through it. He was the Covenant's best after all. He raised his plasma rifle and fired two blue pulses at the traitors. There was a small yelp of pain before two stout bodies clattered to the floor, purple blood oozing out of their arteries.
A small group of jackals followed Mustamee, probably seeing it as their best chance to live. They squawked in fear as four rebel elites barged their way through falling debris. Mustamee turned and launched a series of blasts towards the group. The elites ducked and dodged the burning hot plasma, giving the jackals their chance. The vicious beasts formed an energy wall with their shields and marched down the corridor, shooting charged beams of plasma. The four rebel elites backed away, while being scorched by searing, concentrated plasma. Four, heavily fried corpses rattled against the deck. Mustamee looked at the three brave jackals.
"You shall be commended for your heroic actions. Follow me to the gravity lift" commanded Mustamee. The jackals squawked happily at first before Mustamee mentioned the grav lift. They stared at each other nervously. They dare not upset an elite.
About a quarter of the Guardians of the Sanctum stood guard at the gravity lift. This was where the main assault on First Fort would begin. A few rebels had blasted their way in, but this was the full-scale assault. Mustamee crouched down behind a crate of supplies and aimed his plasma rifle at the holographic grav lift. Mustamee wasn't afraid of death but he didn't want to die either. That's why he had taken up a position next to a pair of medical grunts. Hopefully they would be able to save him if it was necessary. The gravity lift began to hum. A gold-armored elite stood up. Mustamee recognised him as the High Guard.
"Be ready to fight and kill your brothers! Protect your leadership!" he yelled. A cheer resounded the grav lift. They were ready.
The grav lift shimmered and the first wave of rebels flashed into existence. The three grunts and two rookie elites were instantly incinerated by a barrage of heavy plasma fire. Their mangled bodies fell to the floor, swimming in a pool of their own blood.
"That is just a beginning of what is to come guardians. Fight strong for the Covenant!" bellowed the High Guard, trying to lift the already dragging morale. The grav lift flashed again and this time six rebel jackals appeared and formed a circle of defence with their plasma shields. Whoever was commanding the rebel's strike was smart. The jackal's would delay the guardians, waiting for heavy reinforcements, hunters or brutes. Deadly, unless Mustamee could stop it. He removed a small red and blue ball from his belt. A deactivated plasma grenade. He activated it and hurled it at the bunch of jackals. It latched itself to one of their shields. The jackal ran off screaming, not clever enough to discard the shield.
'Damn' thought Mustamee as the grenade detonated. He had hoped to get the entire squad but it was not to be as four brutes appeared out of the air.
The brutes broke formation and charged at the small groups of elites. Unfortunately one of the brutes charged at Mustamee. The giant ape lifted it's rusty blade into the air and brought it down on the elite. Mustamee tried to block it with his plasma rifle, but the blade cut straight through and stabbed his thigh. Mustamee let out a shriek of pain as blood oozed out of the wound. The brute was about to finish him off but Mustamee activated a plasma grenade, threw it at the beast and kicked him back with his left leg. It blew and the brute flew five-feet into the air.
The medical grunts sprinted across the battlefield towards the injured elite. They majestically dodged flying plasma and dived behind cover, whenever it was available. They ran the home stretch and knelt down next to the groaning warrior. They conversed with each other with high-pitched chirps. The pair finally concurred and they began to operate. They removed the wrecked plate of armor, one of them turning away in disgust at the wound. The other injected a pink serum into the damaged flesh.
Mustamee felt his thigh go numb as one of the medic grunts injected him with something. He relaxed as he felt the pain wash away. Strange how he could relax on a battlefield. The grunt patted him. Mustamee looked up and saw that his wound was stitched up and the other medic grunt added a new plate of battle armor. He finished and gave Mustamee a thumbs-up. Mustamee didn't return the gesture as he returned to his feet. The battle wasn't going well. At least half the guardians had fallen and more rebels were appearing by the second. They had to fall back.
"Fall Back!" he shouted. Mustamee looked at the High Guard.
"Fall Back!" agreed the High Guard. "Fall Back to the Steps of Silence!". There was sudden pandemonium as his kinsman retreated. Mustamee picked up a dropped needler and followed the guardians away from the battlefield.
Guardians of the Sanctum: (Part 02) -Alliance and Rebellion-
Date: 27 June 2004, 5:25 PM
Guardians of the Sanctum: (Part 02) -Alliance and Rebellion-
Note : This is Part 02 of BansheeBoy's Guardians of the Sanctum
series
Ninth Age of Reclamation, Step of Silence Covenant Holy City
"High Charity," Sanctum of the Hierarchs.
The Engineer's tentacles swiftly drifted over the slipspace
generator, fixing it to the best of his ability. He was young, well young
for an Engineer. His name was Rako. The Covenant didn't consider any of
their engineers 'honorable' enough for their actual names to be used, they
were even lower than the Grunts in the caste system. Even at that moment a
Grunt commander overlooked his work, abusing him verbally and physically.
Rako had once not cared whom he had worked for. That had all changed
over the last few days. The Covenant may have not respected him, but they
didn't give him beatings either. The rebels did give him beatings though.
They demanded everything in a blink of an eye and if they didn't get it he
would be scolded, kicked or hit. The Grunt commander whipped him with his
plasma pistol. Rako recoiled in pain.
"Fix it now, Engineer scum!" squawked the Grunt with disgust.
The Engineer let out a sort of angry chirp and quickly returned his
attention to the slipspace generator.
The Sly Menace, the rebel destroyer, had damaged the
generator in it's descent to the Sanctum of the Hierarchs. If the
battle went ill for the rebels, they would need to get out, and fast. So,
Rako had been issued to fix it. He didn't like the thought of being blown to
smithereens in space, so he'd been more than happy to do it. Unfortunately
he didn't know he would be abused by a Grunt. A filthy, stinking Grunt. Rako
regretted joining the rebels now, although he hadn't really chosen to 'join'
them. He had been snatched in a recent raid on the Covenant flagship
Jurisdiction and he'd been with the rebels ever since.
Rako began to take the slipspace generator apart. The problem hadn't
been on the surface of the generator so it had to be on the inside. He
started separating the pieces into organised piles and began burrowing deep
into the complex system. The Grunt commander though, didn't see this as
progress.
"Hurry up, engineer scum. Do you want to die?" he questioned.
Rako continued his work. This was an empty threat from the Grunt. If he
killed Rako, his superiors would execute him. Though not respected, the
Engineers were very valuable to the rebellion. They didn't have that many of
them. The Grunt commander started tapping his foot against the
metal-plating, creating a spooky echo. The Grunt was getting impatient. Rako
knew the small warrior wouldn't kill him, but he could hurt him, so the
Engineer doubled his speed (if that was possible).
Rako finally found the problem. A wrecked power conduit. A pretty
simple problem to solve after all that. The Engineer began to fix it when
the Grunt commander broke.
"Hurry up! I don't have all day! My superiors are gonna beat me
for how long this has taken! If your not finished in two units, I will kill
you!" yelled the Grunt as he hit the Engineer. Rako stared at the power
conduit before looking at the Grunt. There was a bigger problem to fix
first. He turned to the bossy Grunt and his tentacles lurched towards it.
"Stay back! I...I..I'll shoot!" shouted the pint-size
commander. The Grunt lifted his pistol but Rako's tentacles snatched it away
and hurled it to the other side of the room.
"No..no..please" begged the Grunt. But it was too late. The
tentacles grasped it's methane mask and threw that away too. The Grunt fell
to his knees, clasping his throat. Finally he gave up and clattered to the
deck
'Problem fixed' thought Rako as he got back to work.
Aeas Mustamee jogged slowly through the halls of the defeated outer
defence-First Fort. Every few seconds he had to slow down to walking
pace as his leg-injury hindered his progress, before speeding up again after
realising his life was in danger. Mustamee swerved round a bend to come face
to face with a rebel Elite. Both were in a sudden state of shock but
Mustamee recovered quicker, pumping twenty needles into the pale-blue
armored Elite. He managed to jump back in time to see the rebel's chest
explode in a bright purple flash. Dark blood gushed out and the Elite
collapsed to the floor, screaming in pain. Mustamee stepped over him and
continued his retreat away from First Fort.
Aeas heard a loud roar sound behind him in the distance. Mustamee
recognised it as the war growl of the Hunters, so he immediately picked up
his pace. A hobbling Elite against a Hunter in a narrow corridor. There was
only going to be one winner. Mustamee started sprinting before letting out a
yelp of pain and stumbling to the deck. As the scarlet-armored Elite fell to
the floor the roaring Hunter entered the corridor and charged towards the
injured warrior. For the first time in his life, Mustamee felt utterly
helpless. No weapon would save him now. Fear overcame the once brave warrior
as he crawled away. The Hunter strolled closer, obviously finding humor in a
cowering Elite. But all of a sudden another figure entered the fray. A
Brute. And he wasn't a rebel. The lumbering Brute burst down the narrow
corridor towards the frozen hunter.
"Move, Elite!" it bellowed. Mustamee flattened himself
against the wall of the corridor and the charging Brute missed him by a
whisker. The two giants clashed, armor against armor, titan against titan. A
battle of the titans you might say.
The Brute lifted a rusty blade and brought it down against the
towering figure of the Hunter. The Adonis blocked the assault with his
heavily shielded arm. The Hunter charged the fuel rod cannon until it glowed
a sickly green and aimed it at the large ape's head. The blast launched at
the Brute's head blowing the ape all the way down the corridor. It's head
landed at Mustamee's feet. Aeas realised it was time to go. He lifted
himself up and scurried away as quick as he could. This time the Hunter didn
't follow thankfully.
"Aim all fire at the Brutes!" bellowed the High Guard.
The legion of Jackals on the first step ducked down behind their energy
shields and charged their plasma pistols until the concentrated plasma
hummed. The heavy plasma salvo fired, incinerating the rebel advance, along
with the twenty apes. 'So far so good' thought the High Guard. The
Steps of Silence were working effectively as a strong defence and as long as
there weren't any surprises, maybe his head wouldn't be on a pike anytime
soon, at least courtesy of the Prophets. A squad of rebel Grunts exited
First Fort only to be eliminated by a volley of plasma fire from the
Grunts on the sixth step. Suddenly more rebels bursted out of the defeated
outer defence, but there was a difference. Eighteen shades, each carried by
two elites, each guarded by four Jackals parrying the oncoming plasma with
their shields. 'This could be a problem' thought the High Guard.
The rebel Jackals continued to protect the portable turrets (shades)
as the strong Elites placed them down in a neat line. The Elites backed away
and ducked down behind the Jackals, firing plasma up at the steps every now
and then. About twenty Grunts emerged from First Fort and about half
the rebel Jackals came to escort them to the front line. The High
Guard immediately realised what they were doing. The Grunts were
gunners. Since the Rebellion valued them, like the Covenant, at the bottom
of their warrior caste they were expendable. Even now he could see at least
another forty Grunts hiding just inside First Fort as ten more
Jackals strided towards the battle. A good strategy. The Grunt gunners
finally reached the shades and took the helm. Eighteen turrets let heavy
plasma loose on the sacred Steps of Silence. The High Guard couldn't
believe that, even though they were rebelling, they could give up their old
lifestyle and rules so easily, it was amazing. There was no time for this
sort of deliberation. The Guardians of the Sanctum's lives were at stake and
it as his job to group them up and fend off the infidels. Or it would be his
head. He was about to get back to the battle when he noticed something. The
Hunters weren't firing.
The High Guard climbed up the tall steps towards the legion
of Hunters protecting the Sanctum of the Hierarchs. He heaved himself onto
the twentieth step into the vision of a rather disgusted Hunter. The High
Guard ignored the Hunter and got to his feet as the small army turned
towards him, all with the same look on their face.
"My..brothers" he said with a bit of hesitation. More Hunters
cocked their heads towards him. "Your mighty weapons may well save the
Sanctum. Aim all your fire towards the turrets and you will be greatly
rewarded by your leaders. Fight for the Covenant!" bellowed the High
Guard. The Hunters stared at each other mulling this over. Would they
take orders from an Elite? Nowadays it seemed everyone thought they were top
of the food chain. Finally the one closest to the gold-armored Elite gave
him a sly nod. Relief washed over the Elite along with a hint of pride and
companionship. The High Guard ducked down as the Hunter's charged
plasma into their cannons. He closed his eyes as a heavy thump resounded the
area. The High Guard looked up to see the rebel ground forces
obliterated from the combined hunter fire, save few stragglers who were
quickly eliminated thereafter. They had beaten the first wave, hopefully a
sign of things to come. But the ordeal was just beginning.
"Rebels!" yelled a Grunt at the top of his voice. The High
Guard swerved round. The second wave already? No, it was just a single
Elite. The Guardians raised their weapons at the 'rebel' before the High
Guard interjected.
"Stop! He's a Guardian!". The defenders lowered their
weapons. The High Guard had recognised the Elite. His name was Aeas
Mustamee. But he didn't look too good. Mustamee stumbled forward, in a
drunk-fashion. Finally he clattered to the ground, unconscious.
"I want medical Grunts down there now! I want him up and
battle-ready in ten units!" bellowed the High Guard. The medical
Grunts immediately obliged.
Part 03 coming soon!
Note: Don't comment angrily about the first bit with the engineer. You may
say, they're peace loving, they don't care who they work for, but that's
only based on brief meetings in the three books. I want the Engineers in my
stories to not be tools, but to have a mind of their own and be actual
characters. I don't want them to be defenceless liabilities but I don't want
them to be warriors either. I hope you accept my take on the Engineers and
actually giving them names.
Guardians of the Sanctum: (Part 03) -Clashing Titans-
Date: 2 July 2004, 5:07 PM
Guardians of the Sanctum: (Part 03) -Clashing Titans-
Note: This is Part 03 of BansheeBoy's Guardians of the Sanctum series.
Ninth Age of Reclamation, Step of Silence Covenant Holy City,
"High Charity," Sanctum of the Hierarchs
Olos Rosmee heaved the crate of plasma batteries and placed it onto First Fort's gravity lift for the rebel's second wave. 'This is degrading' he thought as the crate floated up through the holographic chute. Rosmee would much rather be on the front lines, slaughtering his enemies and breaking weak necks. But instead him, a few other Brutes and a few Hunters, were doing heavy lifting. It was the kind of work a Grunt would usually be forced to do, but would be crushed under the weight of the crates.
Rosmee struggled to lift a huge metallic crate off the ground. He got his sharp claws underneath the heavy weight and heaved it slowly into the air. He made it a few yards before Rosmee realised that it really was too heavy. The crate tumbled from his paws and crashed onto the floor, narrowly missing his own foot. The ape stood back in a state of shock as a Hunter made it's way towards him.
"Weak Brute!" it laughed. Olos was about to reply when he noticed a crack in the metal crate. He recognised the contents as fuel rod cannons, the type which Grunts carried. The type that also had fail-safes. The Brute watched as the cannons glowed a sickly green.
"Run you fool!" bellowed Rosmee as he charged away from the glowing crate.
"Huh?" replied the Hunter with his last word. Rosmee dived away as the crate of fuel rod cannons went off, engulfing a few crates and the boisterous Hunter in a fabulous green veil of flame. The Brute slumped down as he watched the plumes of smoke rise towards First Fort. That was close, too close. His thoughts were interrupted by the cries of a Hunter.
"Murak!" it shrieked. It sprinted over to the location of the blast and knelt down next to the dead Hunter. It let out a deep, mourning sob, turning many heads in the canyon. Rosmee began to stride away in a panic.
"Stop, Brute!" the Hunter shouted. Rosmee halted in his tracks and slowly turned to face the furious Hunter.
"You killed my bond-brother, and I'm gonna make you pay, Brute" it said spitting with disgust. The Hunter stood at it's full height of twelve-feet, towering above the Brute. Rosmee stood tall and proud but inside his head it was a completely different story.
The colossal beast rose above the seemingly tiny ape. It's massive structure stood before him, many units above the Brute. 'What can I do to beat him?' thought Rosmee. The answer popped into his head. He had to use his advantage. Hunters were machines, and had hardly any tactical brilliance. Rosmee, on the other hand, did consider himself a tactical genius. He had to use his surroundings. But there was no time for that at the moment though, as the Hunter charged his fuel rod cannon. Rosmee dived behind a small crate, just before the cannon fired. The charged plasma impacted on the crate sending it flying, narrowly over the Brute's head. This Hunter wasn't happy. Rosmee charged towards the Hunter, taking cover when necessary, before drawing his rusty blade and assaulting the blue-armored Adonis. The sword impacted on the Hunter's chest-plate, cracking it straight down the middle. It roared in anger, as it punched Rosmee back a few feet, knocking the rusty blade out of the ape's furry paws. The Brute regained his balance, feeling purple-blood trickle down his cheek. Rosmee growled. The Hunter had just made a big mistake.
Olos Rosmee lurched forward, taking the Hunter on in hand to hand combat. His muscular left arm grabbed it's fuel rod cannon and struggled to aim it at the beast's face, while his right arm fought for supremacy over the Adonis's left hand. Rosmee managed to force the fuel rod cannon up into the sky as the Hunter charged a heavy bolt of plasma. The lime beam collected energy at the tip of the cannon and it's plasma orb grew to a massive size. The mini-sun shone upon the battling titans, fighting over the cannon. Finally the beam could no longer be charged, so it released itself into the air. The entire canyon watched as the orb of destruction soared into the atmosphere above. But this caused only a brief pause in the battle as the pair continued to fight. At last, Rosmee ended the hand to hand scuffle by head butting the Hunter's already damaged chest-plate. The crack spreaded out over the battle plate until a large piece flaked off. Rosmee spied the Hunter's rugged orange skin through the armor's gap and let out a throaty laugh. But the blue-armored Adonis wasn't licked just yet.
Rosmee dived away from another blast of green energy, courtesy of the Hunter's fuel rod cannon. The Brute ducked down behind a pair of large crates and closed his eyes as another thump resounded from the Hunter's cannon. One of the crates exploded from the shot, sending debris and weapons all over Rosmee. A weapon landed at the crouching ape's feet and Rosmee recognised it as the new Carbine. The Carbine was very much like the human Battle Rifle, except it used plasma instead of slugs. It fired rounds in a slow but powerful fashion and also had a 2X scope, making it very useful. The Brute lifted the unfamiliar weapon off the ground and loaded it with a new battery. The ape looked up to see the Hunter standing in front of the gravity lift. He had a plan.
Rosmee leapt out from behind his cover and charged towards the Hunter. The Adonis was caught by surprise, as the Brute barged him back onto the gravity lift. The Hunter soared up towards First Fort and Rosmee dived after him. The beast twirled around in zero-G, delirious. The ape stared down the scope of the Carbine and blasted at the Hunter's exposed orange flesh. The charged beams impacted on the rough skin and blood exploded out of the wound. The Adonis shrieked in pain as he disappeared inside First Fort and Rosmee followed closely behind.
Olos Rosmee gently dropped onto the fluorescent decking of the outer defence's gravity lift. The Hunter's body lay mangled at his feet, dead. A few shocked Grunts and Jackals backed away as the ape let out a throaty laugh.
"I cannot be bested! Weak Hunter!"
Aeas Mustamee's vision was clouded and foggy. Everything ached and he felt a horrible pain around his right thigh. He tried to move but that only made the pain increase. He wondered for a few moments whether he was dead, only to hear the familiar high pitch chirps of some Grunts. But still he couldn't see a thing. Something was placed upon the Elite's forehead and Mustamee felt the piercing cold of an ice pack. His arm was injected with a serum and he got a sudden burst of energy. The haze in front of his eyes disappeared and Mustamee met the slightly concerned face of a medical Grunt. Banshees soared above battling in the battle-scarred sky and the scent of war filled his nose. Plasma flew above his head and suddenly Aeas remembered everything.
The High Guard charged his pair of plasma pistols until balls of burning energy floated an inch above their tips. A rebel Brute heaved himself onto the gold-armored Elite's step, only to have his ugly face scorched by two charged beams of plasma. The guardians had already lost at least half of the Steps of Silence and the rebel advance showed no sign of stopping. It was quite a amazing sight seeing the hundreds of rebels crawling up the massive steps. A heavy thump sounded behind the High Guard, the shots of the Hunters. The volley of plasma hit the step below the gold-armored elite, basically destroying the step. That was the main reason why Hunters weren't allowed into the Sanctum, that their guns destroyed everything they touched. They were basically walking tanks. The High Guard climbed up onto the step behind him, as the rebels furthered their advance.
The High Guard heaved himself up onto the last step, onto the wounded bay in front of the Sanctum. He winced as he heard more of his brother's cry out in pain on the steps behind him. Rebellion or no rebellion they were still his brothers and he hoped they would join him in paradise. They still had their honor. The High Guard approached the figure of a injured, scarlet-armored Elite.
"Aeas, my brother, are you still injured or are you battle-ready?" he questioned. Aeas groaned as the medical Grunt kneeling over him injected an ink-black serum into his throat.
"Always ready, my liege" he replied dryly.
"Good news. You impressed me back in the gravity lift Aeas. You showed the qualities of commander, not that I liked you fulfilling my duties. Anyway, you may be able to help me. We need reinforcements and I know how to get them. Follow me" the High Guard announced. Aeas grinned as the gold-armored Elite helped him to his feet.
Part 04 coming soon!
Note: Sorry it was a bit short, but this is all essential to the plot. Also the title refers to the battle between the Brute and the Hunter, but also the continuing battle between the rebellion and the guardians. Just thought that needed clearing up!
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