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Rusted Faith (Prelude)
Posted By: Syotica<syotica@gmail.com>
Date: 30 March 2008, 3:19 am


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      A chronic smell entered and exited 'Pacomee's nostril as he continued his path through the jungle; a jungle made thousands of years ago. His black-ops unit was shot down a while back, and was picked off by the Jiralhanae that inevitably followed the thick clouds of lies that surrounded his entire life; and now he had busted through them. Sunlight etched through the trees, with polyhedral leaves and glistening details, he couldn't have asked for a better portion of exotic beauty not present in his home world.

      Thinking was obsolete now; battle and instinct were key, and letting any of that go, he would be slaughtered like a rodent. His race was being devastated, but 'Pacomee knew that he would make a stand for this apocalyptic related betrayal.

      A small cluster of homologous ferns hid him from sight as a pair of Jiralhanae towered above, smelling, and searching, gripping glistening blades laden with violet blood. 'Pacomee's fist clenched in anger as he fell back to a small parapet of clustered metal, well camouflaged from the rest, and perfect for his task. He raised the violet-clad rifle, triggered the zoom facility, and fired.

      The Jiralhanae had barely any time to react as their skulls busted open and putrid pink matter mixed with navy blood stained the jungle carpet. Their lifeless corpses fell to the ground with a dull thud. 'Pacomee smiled.

      Jiralhanae forces yelled to each other; scouts of a kindred that 'Pacomee had been fighting with for so many years ran out and sided with the Jiralhanae; the Kig-Yar. 'Pacomee's anger supply grew a thousand fold. His eyes narrowed as another set of violet beams penetrated the bird and the skulls carrying their thoughts and spat it out another lobe of their head.

      'Pacomee instinctively ducked and a pink beam flashed over his head, slicing the air with a boiling hiss. He frowned and switched the white-hot coil of the rifle out and quickly replaced it, rolling to the side under a trio of an unknown plant and firing at the enemy. One shot, and one Kig-Yar fell. They ran as their Jiralhanae masters' barked incomprehensible gibberish in 'Pacomee's standards.

      Gasping for air, he continued controlling his breathing. Training kicked in; his senses grew sharp. He held the rifle a little harder and peaked over the ridge. The Kig-Yar didn't see him…yet. He thoughtfully took this opportunity and within half a second, blasted the Kig-Yar's skull out with an instinctive tap of the firing stud and a precise aim.

      He didn't have much time. He had to get to the nearest Sangheili station before the Jiralhanae reinforcements caught up to his squad. He checked his Silver-clad armor, making sure the components were still in good shape, and making sure that the Carbine he found on the ground was working, after performing lighting routine reloading and inspection to make sure it was in working order.

      He sprinted through the forest, leaves being a blur as he left everything behind. Matter and blood sprinkled the forest carpet as he dashed behind a Kig-Yar pair, and hit their skill as hard as he could with all of his effort, bringing the bones to snap in half and lodge into the brain of the alien. They fell to the soil lightning fast, finding a plume of dirt to spew upwards in a spiral. 'Pacomee controlled his breathing as he continued sprinting. He had to keep this up several more geographical units to find the base he was supposed to get to. The clearing up ahead could be a good stop for him.

      Random cries shouted throughout the forest, screaming for 'Pacomees' blood. He narrowed his eyes and continued pumping energy into his legs; his enormous muscles carrying more and more strenuous loads of stress and pressure. The Carbine he was holding was pressed to his chest tightly as a Phantom passed overhead. He knew the sensors on the ship could see thermal activity; he dived into a nearby stream as low as he could.

      He continued holding his breath as the chase pressed on, more cries being heard to kill the Sangheili and put his body on a stake. He refused to let him self emerge from the stream until the Phantom had its cargo on the ground. One second, and one Wraith and two Jiralhanae fell to the ground, eyeing the area of anything suspicious.

      One split second, and one Sangheili emerged from the stream. In a blink of an eye, he threw a plasma grenade that glided into the air with professional precision. It didn't take long before that same grenade attached itself to the body of the Jiralhanae that carried the intent to kill 'Pacomee. Putrid matter sprinkled on the brown and earthy jungle carpet.

      The other Jiralhanae met three kiwi beams to their skulls. Being a minor, he wasn't wearing a metal cap, and the three radioactive rounds penetrated the fur and skin and bone with a simple impalement. The Jiralhanae was on the ground, dead, before it even decided to think about what would happen if he went against the Sangheili.

      With the quick kill underway, the Wraith ahead was unoccupied. He had one chance to cease an easy way through a blockade of soldiers that could kill 'Pacomee without hesitation, and with ease, instantly.

      He put the most energy he could summon into his legs, running at an extremely fast speed; the blue armored target ahead, and the Brown furred figure running towards it. 'Pacomee wouldn't let this Jiralhanae that found its way over here ever get into his objective.

      'Pacomee braced himself, and clutched his Carbine as he slammed into the Jiralhanae, knocking it back a several meters. 'Pacomee didn't have much choice; he fired the Carbine three times before the creature could gather itself to be raised back up on its feet. However, the rounds would prevent the Jiralhanae from ever reaching the objective it had in mind, and the shining blue tank covered with morning mist was up for grabs.

      Thoughts convulsed through the head of the Sangheili. He thought of killing himself; what was his existence? Why did he continue living when the purpose defined by the prophets has been denied? Why has the Covenant broken again? These questions pounded the brain of the Sangheili as the clearing around him blurred in a symphony of catatonic thoughts.

      More thoughts pursued his brain. He thought of more things that brought suffering to him. His kindred being murdered without any mercy before his eyes, seeing Sangheili shot and killed, drowned, writhing against the furious intent of the Jiralhanae. He held the Carbine tightly. An emanating thought boomed through his head. No.

      Glancing around, 'Pacomee sighed, and bent down to eye the dead corpse. From its grizzly matted face, to its tangled fur, to the twisted wound that made itself through the eye socket of the creature and through the skull, 'Pacomee winced. He spit in the creatures face, and gathered the weapons the Jiralhanae had to offer before starting up the behemoth and beginning a final push towards his objective.





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