 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Running: An Sanheili's tale. by Ordinary kronos
|
Running: A progressive fan fiction by OrdinaryKronos.
Date: 7 May 2007, 11:36 pm
I am going to be writing a fan fiction progressively in this thread, and I am going to post the firstsix chapters, but then I need some suggestions on how to continue it. This is only my second fan fiction so please no flamings, just constructive comments.
CHAPTER ONE: RUNNING
Running. Always running. There is no time to stop, no time to turn back. Just keep running in order to stay alive. Field master Zukka 'Zurree did not usually run as a survival tactic, but in this case it seemed like an excellent solution to his problem. They had found him, He didn't know how, but they did and now they were chasing him. They were getting closer, he could hear them, shuffling and babbling, thirsting for his blood.
He was so close, the entrance was in sight; but he was tiring, his muscles ached and cried out in an attempt to make him stop.
He couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. His boots slammed against the ancient stone of the forerunner complex, his feet aching with every step he took. He knew releasing that hatch would be a mortifyingly bad idea, but they needed to search for holy relics.
He burst out into the humid swap and kept on running, slogging through ankle-high mud.
'Holy relics.' He had nearly scoffed when he heard that excuse.
He stopped, to catch a breather behind one of the many bulbous, luminescent tree-like stalks that grew in this swamp.
He sat back against the tree, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain, watching the small, neon insects zoom about the misty, humid air in large clouds. Had he escaped?
He plopped himself into the mud with a soft squelch, and took deep breaths, in and out.
Something moved nearby; he could hear it rustling. He sat up, getting into a low crouch, his black eyes darting about the dense foliage, trying to find the cause of the sound.
" Please, don't let it be another one of those cursed machines!"
He thought, reaching for his plasma pistol.
It was getting closer. It was actually right in front of him; he couldn't see it, or even smell it for that matter but he knew it was hostile.
He felt for his pistol and just realized he had dropped it. Terror made his insides turn to stone as he felt his entire body for another weapon.
It surged forward, and revealed itself to be a clearly overworked minor holding a carbine in his claws. His armor was splattered with parasite excrement, and had most likely run into the flood while on a perimeter sweep.
"Excellency, thank the prophets you survived! Our phantom is six units east from here; follow me!"
'Zurree just realized that he was gripping the tree. He shook himself out of his minor stupor and shakily stood up, brushing the mud off of his normally shining armor.
"Wait, do you have another weapon? I lost mine when the Parasite was released."
'Zurree said, looking about furtively.
The minor hesitated, and then clacked his lower mandibles: a shrug.
"All I have is this."
He reached into one of the belt loops and pulled out a plasma rifle. He handed it to the field master and turned around, heading deeper into the swamp.
All 'Zurree could do was accept the rifle, and follow closely.
Running all over again. He could hear them again. Their movement gave them away and they were close. 'Zurree found himself firing at the bushes, at the shadows and even at trees, trying to kill this unseen but all too real horror.
The Minor was firing also, but he was actually hitting them.
Something leapt at the minor, something large. It slammed into the other elite, and they both crashed into the floor.
It was at some point a major, and it was trying to break through the minors shields with a large rock.
'Zurree quickly opened fire, the whine of plasma fire echoing through the desolate swamp, and he could feel them closing in on him.
The Minor was screaming incoherently, reaching for his carbine in a desperate attempt to fend off the combat form, whose filthy tentacles had wrapped themselves around his neck and torso, squeezing mercilessly. The minor couldn't grab the carbine, and was on the brink of passing out when 'Zurree opened up in a desperate attempt to kill the flood.
The Monster released the half conscious minor and leapt at 'Zurree.
Running: Chapter two
Date: 7 May 2007, 11:37 pm
This chapter sucks especially worse that the first. Hurray!
And the titles are even worse.
CHAPTER TWO: CAMP
Before he could Even Blink, the think was on top of him. It slammed the rock into the side of 'Zurree's head and sent his helmet flying off into the foliage and made him see stars, nearly knocking himself off balance. He staggered back, looking for anything to stabilize him when the thing bulled forward, flailing its arms in an attempt to kill the dazed field master.
'Zurree could barely see when the Combat form slammed into him, bulling him straight into a gnarled, moss covered tree.
'Zurree's mind was concluded, and he found himself staring straight into the thing's throbbing torso were four small tentacles were writhing and reaching for him. It was wrapping its tentacles around his neck and tightening ever so slowly around his neck when the tell-tale report of a carbine echoed throughout the area.
'Zurree felt the monster grow limp and fall back into a mass of putrid liquefied flesh and decrepit excrement.
'Zurree's legs had turned to jelly and he stood their, quivering like a newborn grunt.
The minor domo was waist deep in a filthy lake, the carbine smoking….and a nervous grin on the minors face.
'Zurree couldn't help but to grin too….It was strange. He bent over and picked up his dented helmet, frowning.
"So much for 'dent proof '. Those Engineers….."
He replaced in on his head, and gave a curt nod to the minor.
"Thank you brother; let us continue."
The minor turned and waded through the lake, and motioned for 'Zurree to follow.
'Zurree was going to refuse, but the fact that he could hear more of them coming made him think twice.
'Zurree and the minor were nearly neck deep in warm, murky water with thick clouds of the insects floating above the surface. The Minor was actually almost entirely under, but just barely above.
After about a minute of wading through the slop they finally made it to the other side of the lake, and to what was thought to be salvation.
They were oh so wrong.
The sound of combat neared, it was close; human weapons fire. The pair of elites cautiously approached the scene, waiting for the fire to die down.
'Zurree slowly approached the place of combat, and after a quick observation realized it was already over.
Five dead humans lie were they stood, their weapons lying beside them.
"Strange…"
The minor muttered, kicking one of the bodies, in the process disturbing the puddle of blood under the human to ripple.
Suddenly out of the trees poured hundreds of the infection forms, leaping and dancing about on their little tentacles.
A grenade flew out of the opposing bushes and landed into the middle of the hundreds of obscene creatures, exploding taking out a majority of them with after explosions taking out the rest.
The minor pivoted and brought his rifle to bear.
"show yourself; friend or foe?"
After a quick rustling and some silence, elite in white armor materialized out of thin air.
"Speco ops Commander Rtas 'Vadumee. Greetings Field Master, Minor."
'Zurree visibly frowned. He despised that elite so much! Coming in stealth, addressing him improperly when he ranked the fool by over two levels! He should have him demoted when they return to the Truth And Reconciliation.
"Greetings, 'Vandumee. How is the platoon holding up?"
The Minor asked, raising his right hand as a sign of respect.
"Come see for yourself, you too Field Master."
The elite replied with a throaty chuckle, disappearing into the landscape again.
" Cursed active camouflage!"
'Zurree followed the minor for another five minutes, running into more and more flood forms, combat and otherwise and having to scavenge weapons from the decrepit corpses,
The two finally arrived at the phantom.
The phantom had become a sort of minor HQ while they attempt to find any survivors from the squadron of elites they had sent deep into that cursed forerunner structure.
They had set up a wall made of energy shields, stationary turrets and the smaller plasma cannons. He entered the camp easily enough, once they recognized that he was the ranking officer in the entire swamp.
The previous ranking officer fell prey to the flood, and due to his foolishness the camp fell into disarray, command going to the person who called it.
The commander since the accident was a derelict zealot named Kanx 'onsomee.
The Zealot was in the phantom, which was floating a few hundred feet above the camp, and he gladly allowed the entrance of 'Zurree and the other officer, 'Vandumee.
"Welcome Field master, Commander,"
'Onsomee sighed, raising his left hand and with his right rubbed his eyes.
"The Parasite has been released, and we are nearly successfully driving them off."
'Zurree did not like the word 'nearly', but he listened the lower ranking officer's spiel.
"Our forces have driven them back to the hatch and have sealed them off again, and to make sure they stay there we are reinforcing the area with more troops. The Spirit carrying them should have been at the location hours ago……"
"And how many soldiers do we have left here, brother?"
'Zurree inquired. The Zealot beat around the bush by replying.
"With the reinforcements we have from the spirit about forty."
"But how many soldiers do we have here?"
'Zurree asked again, aggravation clear in his voice.
"Not enough."
'Vandumee interjected. The Zealot didn't say a word to disvalue this statement.
A battle against the flood had started groundside, hundreds of combat forms rushed for the shades, which the grunts quickly replied with heavy fire from both plasma cannon and shade turrets. Flood blood drenched the shields, dripping off and being soaked into the mud.
Too many of them. They leapt over the makeshift barricades, sending grunts flying off their turrets to be swarmed and devoured by the ravenous infection forms. The few jackal majors formed a rough shield wall to protect the gravity lift leading to the Phantom. A few spec ops drew their swords for one last stand, throwing a quick salvo of grenades they charged into the tide of gibbering, hooting, and honking monsters.
An explosion that could be compared to a lotus anti-tank mine detonation caused the jackals to be temporarily blinded when the blue light of plasma became as intense as the sun's light.
The sound finally died down, and chunks of meat rained down upon the now silent camp. The surviving seven jackals and the one minor elite were now drenched with blood and totally confused.
What had just happened? Had they won? Two of the jackals went to the outskirts of the camp, avoiding weapons containers and blackened, sizzling bodies of unknown race. They looked about, and one was about to tell the others it was fine with out a nearby bush shot over ten thousand infection forms, they overwhelmed the jackals before they could even fire or make a sound.
The remaining jackals opened fire but it wasn't enough to stop them. They leapt upon the small formation, killing every single jackal and regardless of that one minor's best efforts, he too succumbed to the floods horrors …
Running: Chapter three
Date: 7 May 2007, 11:38 pm
Extra short, needed to change scenery anyway, running short on swamp ideas.
CHAPTER THREE: STOWAWAYS...
"…..Respond, respond!"
The Phantom pilot yelled into his com, only getting a loud whine and a burp of static.
"What is it 'Kinomee?"
The Zealot asked, hardly able to keep his tone level and the exasperation out of his voice.
"Excellency….we lost contact with the ground team…."
The elite replied, barely able to keep the panic out of his own.
"Perhaps it was some interference. Human technology always does that, and I saw some humans a while back."
'Vandumee spoke up, confident in himself that it should be the answer. 'Zurree rolled his eyes.
"That fool! Always thinking about his troops; who does that?..."
The Zealot hesitated, that just said out of the blue, "Humans? Check out the viewing porthole, that's an order!"
The random change from a tired, bored elite to a shouty unpredictable beast didn't surprise 'Vandumee and 'Zurree, but it made the pilot jump.
When somebody is stressed to a certain point they snap and loose their mind. The two seasoned officers had seen this countless times and usually ignore it.
The pilot tapped a few commands on the holo-pad on the pedestal in front of him, which allowed a small porthole to be opened and it just happened to be underneath 'Zurree's feet.
Lucky for 'Zurree a thick layer of forerunner glass was there to prevent him from taking a long plummet to the ground hundreds of feet down.
'Zurree looked down, not being able to spot much down there he clacked his lower mandibles-a shrug.
"I don't see any movement at all…."
The pilot nodded, and activated the motion detector with a few artful clicks on the holo-pad.
A small screen became illuminated, and revealed that there was movement, and plenty of it, but none of it was friendly to say the least.
"Exelency, There are hundreds of contacts down there, none of them are our troops……"
The pilot paused, his mandibles clacking nervously together, creating an irritating click-click-click noise.
"….The parasite is still out there, and they have wiped out the ground team."
'Onsomee sat down in one of the several crash chairs in the cockpit, hanging his head low. 'Zurree turned to 'Onsomee, and snarled.
"What happened to 'successfully driving them off,' your Excellency?"
"enough Field Master!"
'Vandumee commanded. "We cannot stay here any longer; the mission failed my Brothers. We must return to the Truth and Reconciliation immediately. "
The Pilot nodded, released the hover control, deactivated the grav-lift, and slowly ascended above the tree tops.
"The Prophets will have my head for this!"
The Zealot groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"Perhaps its for the best…."
'Zurree thought, a smile playing on his mandibles.
Another second later, and the phantom sped off towards the ship become base…..With a few more passengers than expected.
Five little stow-away flood rode up the grav-lift, being the lightest of their counterparts and the only ones that could on such a low setting.
The five little balls danced about the empty troop hold, it seeming similar to the prison the fools had kept them in for eons.
They found a large crate, the same kind the intruders had brought with them, and jumped in to hide in the darkness.
All were eager to grasp this new prey, to feast upon their minds and knowledge…
And now, the trap was set, they would only have to wait for somebody idiotic enough to set it off, and release them onto the fools once more!
'Finally, free of that cursed building! Now to spread as far as the heavens!'
One of them whispered.
'Yes, to the heavens and beyond!'
A second spoke, barely containing it's glee.
'Its been countless years since an adequate meal, but now with more nourishment we can be fed till we explode! Ha,ha! It was foolish of them, thinking they could hold us with mere walls!'
The third, the oldest of the five had seen the ones that had imprisoned them, and wanted to get revenge.
' I wish I could sink my tentacles into one….'
Sighed the very smallest and roundest one.
'SILENCE FOOLS; we shall wait, then, think all you want.'
Cried the cruelest and most psychopathic of the five, all were to scared to speak against their self proclaimed leader, and all grew silent.
Running chapter four.
Date: 19 May 2007, 2:58 am
CHAPTER FOUR: REASIGNMENT
Gone were the dark, dank depths of the swamps, left behind by the beetle-like craft which had navigated it self to the other end of the Holy Ring of Halo, to a large stretch of canyon and cliffs.
The dropship was entering the resting place of the Truth and Reconciliation, as marked by the squads of banshees flying nearby and attempting to hail the larger craft.
Several Symbols appeared on one of the screens on the Phantom's Holo-consol, which the pilot read over, and quickly responded, with a few symbols of his own.
More popped up, and he typed in a few more…then the screen flashed gold.
The Pilot turned around to face the three others and said.
"We have permission to land, and are heading for the hanger; we shall land in about two units."
'Vandumee nodded slowly, and closed his eyes, reclining in the uncomfortable crash chair.
'Zurree looked out the cockpit window, and could see that they were on approach to the colossal ship.
"Its home for now……But since that human with the special armor assaulted and entered it, it has never been as safe as it could be…"
It should be safe, considering that they blocked the canyon entrance off now, so no one gets in or out via ground side.
The Zealot had remained silent the whole trip, staring at the ceiling, most likely contemplating his fate at the hands of the Prophet of Sanctity…. He was not known for his mercy. He had executed an aristocrat of great power by the name of Soha 'Rolamee for his mistakes at the Silent Cartographer.
'Zurree wished he had been there, he would have surely killed the mere human, regardless of special armor.
But, he had one obstacle to cross; the authority of another field master, Noga 'Putumee. He thought he was so Great. Well, 'Zurree was positive he would bring the incompetent, arrogant and foolhardy elite to his knees.
The Phantom was on approach to the box canyon that held the mighty cruiser as it made repairs. The sun gleamed off the bulbous craft's silver hull, and the canyon added to the magnificent scene of the serene yet deadly cruiser became the only visible object from in the cockpit.
A massive door slowly slid open, revealing the large hanger with two spots for ships. The shield flickered and shut off, just for their entrance.
The Phantom decelerated, and was suddenly jerked around to back up into the cavernous and rather purple hanger.
The ship was totally inside, when a force from above caused the phantom to jerk.
"The tractor beam…..It always surprises me."
The pilot sighed, and set the engine to stall, and watched as the hatch to the outside was shut and the shield reactivated.
They were at the Truth and Reconciliation's mercy now.
The crew was escorted off the ship, and a few grunts boarded to empty the cargo….
'Kinomee stayed with the ship, to observe the removal of the cargo, while two ultra elites guided 'Zurree, 'Vandumee, and 'Onsomee to the Prophet's council chamber.
The halls were b-blam!- with major jackals, veteran grunts, and a few hierarch elites. There were also hundreds of those bothersome engineers amongst them, floating about on tier gas bladders.
"They lied about my helmet…"
'Zurree thought, his eyes burning hate at the blobs.
For a reason clear only to 'Onsomee, all of the beings in the halls cleared the way for the six. The reason was simple enough; they were condemned to die or be exiled from the holy Covenant for their transgressions.
They made their approach to the command deck, riding up a gravity lift, then approaching the security checkpoint consisting of six black clad elites.
The two escorting the 'fugitives' nodded, and went back down the gravity lift.
"Identification, please,"
The lead security officer warbled, extending his hand at 'Zurree.
'Zurree felt about his body until he came across the small slit in the armor in which he kept his identification disk, and placed it into the proffered hand of the officer.
The other elite placed the disk in a handheld reader. Data scrolled from right to left on the small screen.
"Place you hand in the scanner's slot."
The scanner was a black rectangular box, about five units high, with the slot being a small slit on the side. Green light poured out of the small slit, meaning it was ready to scan.
'Zurree obeyed, and felt a sudden stab of pain, as the machine took a sample of his tissue, to compare the DNA with that on his file.
He knew it was obviously not for impersonations, but for the recent murders….
"Confirmed," The guard said. "Your twenty units early 'Zurree, and you'll have to wait. I would advise you to stand over here," He gestured to a corner by the waiting room door, "while I check in your colleagues. Also, hand me any weaponry that you have, please."
'Zurree had only a few energy grenades, and his rifle, which he passed to the guard tout sweet.
A few minutes later, and all three were in the waiting room, surrounded by lower and higher ranking elites.
A few units past, and 'Zurree was half asleep when he was the first of the three ushered into the Chamber of Counsels.
At the center of a cobalt table, 'sat' the Prophet of Sanctity, bobbing with the breeze. He approached the podium he was supposed to stand on, and he bowed his head.
He wore a tall, ornate headpiece made of metal and set with amber panels. It had a serpentine neck, triangular skull, and two bright green eyes that glittered with malevolent intelligence. He wore a red over robe, a gold under robe, and underneath the fabrics and linen, an antigravity belt which served to keep him suspended one unit off the table.
"The council notes that a field master Zukka 'Zurree took half a regiment, along with another half a force to the yet to be explored swamps, in order to find new holy relics. He incidentally released the flood, and lost two thirds of his regiment to the parasite, one third being left behind, and a quarter of that never returned to it's drop point; we lost over eighty three soldiers, and one Spirit dropship because of your foolishness. What say you, Field master?"
'Zurree kept his head hung as he spoke, recapping about the communications failing, the drop, and the entrance into the forerunner structure.
He spoke of the opening of the hatch, the unleashing of the parasite, and the attempt made by the prone-to-panic 'Onsomee to seal them back off.
He also explained that, when he had warned 'Onsomee of the flood's impeding approach to their phantom, that they should pack it up, he refused to listen, and lost many soldiers.
He reasoned that simple miscommunication had been the cause of the downed Spirit, it's location still unknown.
"…That, Excellency, is all I have to say. If you can find the mercy in your heart exalted one, give me another chance; I give you my word I will not fail again."
The Sanctity stared, marveling at the tale. He placed a finger on his bony lips, clearly pondering the elite's fate.
A unit passed, when the prophet lifted his finger and said to the concluded Sangheili standing before him, "You are a competent commander, Field Master, and rest assured, the blame is not all yours. However, to determine the truth of your statement, we must interview the other officers, if you please?"
'Zurree nodded.
"Of course Excellency."
He bowed, turned, and exited into the waiting room. 'Onsomee was called in a few units later. 'Zurree was seated, when 'Onsomee returned back out, looking at he brink of insanity.
"How did it go, brother?"
'Zurree asked a hint of smugness in his voice. 'Onsomee didn't even respond, he just sat down, quivering like a jackal off meat for a week.
'Vandumee was called, then sent back out, looking calm and collected.
"What did they say, Stealth commander?"
'Zurree asked the Sangheili as he sat down. 'Vandumee clicked his lower mandibles-a shrug.
"The Holy One said that he would confer with the council, to decide our fate."
'Zurree nodded sagely, knowing all too well what would happen.
They find on culprit, and put the blame on him, then execute the perpetrator-scapegoat on the spot.
Then, after at least an hour, all three were escorted inside, all three seated at their proper pedestals, they bowed their heads in unison.
"The council has made a decision; Stealth commander Rtas 'Vandumee, You and your forces are hereby stationed on the crashed human vessel called The Pillar of Autumn. You shall be dispatched immediately, and you are dismissed."
'Vandumee brought his left hand up- a salute.
"Thank you Excellency."
He turned, and exited the room.
"…And then there was two.."
'Zurree thought; a strange phrase he had heard a human say before killing a pair of Unggoy…And one of them was going to be dead soon enough; 'Onsomee knew it was him.
" 'Zurree, your failure was minor, and therefore, you are needed at the following location; a field Master 'Putumee requested your assistance."
A screen flashed next to the prophet's head, quordinates flashing across it from left to right.
'Zurree's fists clenched and unclenched.
"HIM!"
A smile played on the prophets face as he watched 'Onsomee flinch, and 'Zurree's reaction.
"'Onsomee, regardless of your blessings, your failure is staggering, near heresy. Therefore, I sentence you to immediate execution. Hyma 'Ramotee, if you please?"
An Elite in cobalt armor materialized from the shadows, clearly using active camouflage. An glowing energy long sword gripped in his claws.
"Of course Excellency; the Prophet's will be done."
He said with a smirk. 'Onsomee turned, panic inducing him to run, but he was cut down
With a single slash, his torso still was being carried by the force of his steps. It slammed into the wall, and splattered it with purple blood.
Sanctity sighed, closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.
"That was the fifth one today…..Thank you, 'Ramotee."
The other elite bowed, wiping the blood off the blade with his hands, he disappeared into the shadows again.
'That is why I hate active camouflage….'
"Let this be a warning to you, field master; tread lightly, for you now walk on thin ice; you are dismissed."
'Zurree bowed, and turned, stepping over the pieces of the corpse that was once 'Onsomee, he silently headed back to the launch bay, to take a Spirit to the Location; the human own area they called, 'Alpha Base'.
They felt a presence; it was that of food!
The five hiding in their dark container were itching with excitement.
"Me first!"
Cried the second one. The first one hissed at his brother.
" I have first rights!"
The oldest one yelled. The smallest remained silent, lest his brothers killed him.
"ENOUGH! We must wait, no fighting my brothers. We shall find a suitable meal, make no mistake…"
The other four nodded, and then felt themselves being moved.
Soon, then would have their chance to spread…so soon.
|
