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The Final Hours of High Charity
Posted By: Halo Fanatic 2006<deathinator@hotmail.com>
Date: 29 May 2007, 7:15 pm
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The Final Hours of High Charity
AN: This is a couple of very short stories summarising the events of the flood invading High Charity, from the perspectives of an Elite, and a Human Marine. I put together these entries as I thought the events on High Charity at the time Truth left were under-reported. And in case you ask, the titles don't actually give much indication to the story, as none actually match the text. They even mean the same thing too. Also, for all the people at HBOFF, thanks for a great year of constructive criticism and help. I'm a whole new writer. Sorry I haven't been on lately; this is another reason why I wrote these, as a kind of, new, personal best. Hope you like…
"Noisy Silence"
We are, all of us, gravely concerned." The Prophet continued, "The release of the parasite was unexpected, unfortunate, but there is no need to panic. In truth, this is a time to rejoice, a moment that all the Covenant should savor, for the Sacred Icon has been found! With it our path is clear, our entry into the divine beyond guaranteed. The Great Journey is nigh, and nothing, not even the Flood, can stop it." He finished, as the picture cut off.
"Huh, not likely," Ginka Hinshafee' replied softly, his comment unheard. Hiding behind his Brutes, the coward, slaughtering his own Covenant to get some privacy? Something had to be happening behind those doors, once the holograms went off. A mass of dead Unggoy and Kig-yar lay at the bottom of the raised entrance to the inner sanctum. Then weapons were fired. Things had changed. All throughout the great planetoid home, silent howls, and whispering echoes sounded, and were silenced. Inside the Sanctum, Brutes growled as Truth's tracker descended. He was fleeing.
Rising steadily from his hiding place far above the sanctum doors, the Sangheili activated his active camo, and quickly found a way down to the ledge above the Brutes. Waiting above the guards, he saw the doors flashing, and as the person responsible walked out, the athletic warrior swung, legs-first, through the open doorway from above, seeing only a blur of green below. Behind the Brutes began to howl, soon Tartarus, the wretched Brute leader, was booming over the loudspeakers about the Demon.
Hinshafee' had just emerged unscathed after the closest encounter to the Demon one of his kind had had without death. He would worry about that later, now he had a Prophet to catch. The Sangheili had some tech experience with the Covenant computers, and had no trouble hacking Truth's hidden control panel. The floor began to descend, and so, hopping on, the assassin braced himself for the most important part of his life: justifying the rest of it.
Hooves silent, camo ready, and senses alert, the Sangheili crept out of the halting lift. He quickly left and followed Truth's signal. A Brute blocked his path. Silently, and efficiently, Ginka raised his glowing sword with a slight hiss. The Brute twitched his nostrils in curiosity of the noise, and the blade half-way through his abdomen. He slumped to the floor, gasping for breaths after the sword had traveled upwards piercing his lungs. He lay there, unable to move, unable to scream. Yet Hinshafee' had to put up with the tortured being, enemy or not. He moved on.
Silently stalking his prey, Ginka followed the Prophet through High Charity. Soon he began to fall behind because of the numerous blockages in his path, Brutes and Kig-yar. He moved into a steady run, until he met his greatest feat of stealth yet. Inside a large, open room, with a Gravity-lift in the middle, which Truth was at the bottom of, was the largest maneuver he would ever have to pull off. In front of the doors was a Major Brute, looked proud and menacing, with his Captain eyeing him over from atop a balcony, while two Kig-yars patrolled the center. Truth was getting paranoid. There was only one way: he would have to sneak right in front of the Major to try and climb up and dispatch the Captain without the others noticing. He could not initiate a charge, incase they alerted the rest of the Brutes nearby, even if some of them were dead.
Stealthily creeping, the tall Sangheili bent down low, and began to side-step against the door-frame, inching past the unsuspecting Brute. Thankfully there was no actual door, so no noise alerted his enemies to his presence. Slowing his pace, Hinshafee' crept further and further away from the Major, until he was underneath the Captain. Reaching a hand out, he latched onto the smooth surface of the balcony. A hand appeared before the Captain, although he could not see it. But as unlucky as it was, a Kig-yar happened to glance towards his Captain, and his assassin. Cocking his head, Jok raised his plasma pistol, aiming squarely at the mass of Active Camouflage, and fired.
To his horror, Ginka heard and felt the plasma on his back too late, his shields took the damage, but his cloak vanished. He was a sitting duck. As soon as he went to drop down from the balcony, a grenade whizzed past his head, while more followed in its path. Acting too late, the Sangheili took a hit straight to the chest, instantly depleting his shields and knocking him against the solid wall. Soon the Captain had descended down and came out of his entry door, shoving the Major aside. They glared at him with orange eyes, and the Captain gave an order.
Jok and Bak closed in on the weary Sanheili, their weapons ready. Soon however, the angry Jiralhanae who had just survived an attempt on his life came down to see their catch, pushing the weak Kig-yar aside like Unggoy in the path of a Wraith. Then he gave the last order. They all backed of, and let the angry beast do his work. Watching intently, they saw the bayonet of his Brute Shot drop down into the "Heretic's" abdomen. Then they were ordered to throw the body down the lift. No unwanted heretic garbage would desolate their city.
As he floated down limply, but gracefully, Hinshafee' landed on a small pad. Through faded vision, he saw three Phantoms fly gracefully away into the midst of High Charity like birds into a plasma beam, disappearing instantly in lingering fog. He had failed. But someone else would stop Truth. Someone had to.
"Unheard Screams"
John Linear sat in his cell. The repetitive Brute paced up and down, its brisk fur standing up while its face drew a picture of uncertainty. Then, the feature of his face vanished as he clunked to the floor with the butt of a plasma rifle in the back of his head. In his place there stood a green, seven foot person clad in MJOLNIR armor; a Spartan. He couldn't believe his luck. Behind the tall, green warrior stood five UNSC soldiers, looking very tentative. Almost immediately after the Brute was dead the doors slid open, releasing the prisoners, while the Spartan turned, just as silently as he had arrived, and left, the humans hurrying behind him. As soon as they left the prison block, a Brute was hurling at them. Instantly, it hit one of the Marines as he was sent flying backwards off of the overhang and down unto the purple abyss. The Brute lumbered around and hit a person square on the cheek, sending him spinning into the wall. It then jumped on the Spartan, and slumped in mid-air. There was a Bayonet in its mouth, and as it began to struggle, the Spartan unloaded three carbine rounds into its skull. Black blood oozed out of its mouth as the Spartan twisted the Brute Shot, as soon as he thought it was dead he thrust the Brute Shot and the attached Brute onto a pile of incoming Grunts. They collapsed and their bones broke instantly, they wheezed and coughed under the weight; and just like the Spartan had killed a Brute, and three Grunts.
As the humans followed him up the Grav-lift the Spartan stopped for a few seconds, as if he was listening to someone. He then nodded his head. Linear hurried up to their ticket out of High Charity. Soon there were Grunts descending from the central Gravity-lift. They set up plasma cannons, but immediately met the plasma of eight angry Marines and an Elite Spartan. Then came the Jackals, shielded, and knocking yet another soldier down with their plasma bursts. He was alive, but they had no medical equipment, and he was put out of his misery soon.
Linear fired round after round of his Needler. He couldn't hit anything. After a reasonably long time in captivity his training wouldn't kick in, the Spartan was their last hope, and hopefully not a mislaid one. They moved up to the lift, when a great mass of fur and dumb brutality landed on top of a female, crushing her.
The shaggy waste of fur was so efficiently dispatched by the Spartan, that Linear was beginning to wonder why they were not more public, why there weren't more of them. He had no idea what the human being in front of him had gone through to get to where he was now. Perhaps if he had known this, he would not have overestimated him. Of course the Spartan was amazing, and unmerciful at that, but the myth that everyone said was true, was certainly not. A demon never dies. Wrong. Even the covenant knew that.
As they progressed up the purple light-beam, Linear's stomach growled, not only because he was hungry, but most importantly that flying had always made him feel nauseous, they weren't flying, but close enough for John's senses to think so. Why can't the covenant stop playing around with forces? It's a wonder they don't get headaches. Linear wasn't sure whether they did, but he dismissed the thought as they reached the top, preparing himself for combat. But he prepared himself too late.
Another lump of brown dumbness launched itself at the human. Linear was instantly crushed, blood flowing from his mouth through torn lips. His ribs collapsed next, while a pool of red liquid tarnished the floor. As the brute lifted his shaggy head, he glared into Linear's eyes. Its own were glowing lava orange, like the bright storms of Jupiter. I'm not going to survive, but I escaped a life of captivity, however long it might have lasted. He was right on both comments. Death was the least of his worries, when overwhelming pain was much more distracting. He wheezed and coughed for breath, while the Brute was shot in the back of the head while it was trying to finish him off. Although the beast was lifted off by the legendary Spartan, John's vision clouded. He always knew he couldn't cheat death forever against the aliens, in fact his last thought was: At last.
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