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The Dark Chapters by Mister Frodo
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The Dark Chapters
Date: 17 February 2006, 4:04 am
Oena 'Hyjoolne sighed. The Brutes had slain his best warriors in the last battle. The last remnant of his forces, an ambitious Sangheili recruit and a few Unggoy, hardly reflected his high rank. But, heretics had no rank, did they?
Loni 'Homelac, a young warrior with only a needler and three human kills, approached Oena. "Commander, the Brutes have taken hold of the next structure. Two Phantoms rest on the landing pads as well. I cannot be sure of the security of the buildings, but only Kig-Yar guard the doors."
"No doubt the Brutes are inside, unfortunately." Oena stared at the blue-armored recruit. "Tell me, Loni, have you ever heard the tale of Orna 'Fulsamee?"
Loni shook his head. "No, sir."
"It is a new tale of our sagas, but still a valued one. Orna 'Fulsamee was once a great Ship Master, leader of the fleet that found the first Sacred Ring. But the Demon destroyed the Ring, bringing Orna into a life of heresy, even though he had committed no crime. The Prophets saw that he was a promising warrior, and thus, they made him the Arbiter. They promised him that he would die on his missions, but the first task came and lo, he had not fallen. The Prophets were secretly upset, for they wished to give power to the vile Brutes. But Orna did not know of this betrayal, so he took the next mission with the same eagerness. The Prophets tasked him with recovering the Sacred Icon. But when he had fought through the vicious parasite and recovered the Icon, the Prophets ordered his death. Tartarus, Chieftain of the Brutes, delivered it personally." Oena paused. "But Orna is not dead let. We will fight for his memory, against the Brutes, against the Kig-Yar, and against the Prophets."
"Thank you for the tale, Commander." Loni looked back at the set of structures in the distance. "Will we fight now?"
"Yes, Loni, we will fight." Oena raised his plasma rifle. "For the Arbiter!"
"For the Arbiter!" Loni replied.
---
Jennifer Perfidy stumbled on the rocky ground. Her Brute captor shoved her forward, into the dirt. "Come now, female. Can you not walk?"
Blood ran from her nose. She pushed herself up, only to be brought back into the dirt by the Brute's fist. His chuckles filled her ears as she struggled to her feet.
"You are the example of her puny race, human. You stumble and try to walk, but no, you cannot even move, for you have something stronger pulling you down. It is in your history. It is the truth of you existence."
Jen felt the Brutes filthy hand place itself in her back. She kept walking, averting her gaze from the dead soldiers near her. The Brute laughed louder.
"Afraid for your little friends? They cannot help you now. And you cannot help them. You and your entire race will soon die, and I hope my hands can cause this!"
They neared a large building. Jen stared up at the foreign architecture. Under normal circumstances, it might cause her to stop.
But these weren't normal circumstances.
A door slid open. The Brute led her through several halls. They passed cages filled with Grunts and Elites. At the end of the hall sat an empty chamber. The Brute pushed her in. "You will stay here, human. Don't try to escape." He smiled. "Hunting you is much too easy."
She settled into the room as an energy shield appeared over the opening. The opposite corner was bathed in shadows.
Her hands trembled. She wiped away the tear sliding down her cheek. No. Hold yourself together. You're not dead yet.
She had signed up with the UNSC because that's what her brother had done. She always wanted to be like him, even though she didn't tell him that.
Now she'd never have that chance.
Something moved in the far corner. She held still as someone emerged from the shadows.
It was an Elite, only stripped of his armor. She looked away from it as it moved into the light. "Hello? Is someone there?"
She stared at the alien. Surely it saw her. Then she noticed that its face was swollen where the two eyes were. She winced when it touched her hand.
"Human!" It drew back. She watched it huddle in the corner, all dignity forgotten.
She had killed countless Elites during her combat days, and seen many of her comrades fall to their attack. But she had never seen one like this, deprived of its armor and weapons. Almost like someone had removed its honor and replaced it with grief.
The Elite trembled. "They killed all of my squad. I was the only one to survive. And then...I had to watch as they slaughtered your kind. Even we slayed you in battle, never as a public display..." He hugged himself. "From ashes comes stone. From ashes comes stone. From ashes comes stone."
"What's your name?" The sound of her voice startled her. Why was she making conversation with a monster?
"My name has no meaning. Not anymore. But in your tongue my name is Illuh 'Revoshu. The Brutes have taken my rank, my name, my dignity...all that is left is me. And I am nothing."
He stayed in the corner for the next few hours, not responding to her attempts at conversation. He just kept repeating the same words over and over: "From ashes comes stone. From ashes comes stone. From ashes comes stone."
She had passed the time by praying and counting the number of indentions on the walls. Now she'd memorized the entired layout for their cell and the part of the hallway she could see. So she sat there and thought. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me besides still waters, he restores my soul. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for you are with me. Your rod and staff, they guide me. Even-" A rustle interrupted her.
The Elite stopped and moved his face towards the hall. "What is it?"
"I don't know." She moved towards the cell "door." Two Brutes tried to lead an Elite towards the other door. He kicked and punched and bit at them.
"Let me go!" The struggling Elite fought even more as one of the Brutes pinned his arms behind his back and shackled his hands. "Unhand me, vile beasts!"
She leaned back. A few prisoners had come in already, mostly Elites. One of them had struggled too.
His blood still rested on the hallway floor.
"Just another prisoner," she replied to her cellmate.
"No, not the disturbance. Your chant. What is it?"
"Chant?" She scratched her head. "Oh, you mean what I was saying before?"
"Yes. What is it?"
She stopped. Could aliens be saved? Had God created them with a purpose as well? Or had He doomed everyone to death?
It can't hurt. "It was a Psalm, written by one of the leaders back on my planet. Before this war, before we could even travel in space."
"Yes. And is this "Lord" you spoke of one of the gods? Or is it one of your race's creations?"
She sighed. The Elite couldn't understand. "No, He isn't a creation of us. We're a creation of Him . I don't know if you're interested..."
He clicked his lower jaw. "I have no other way to spend my time. Tell me."
She nodded. "Alright. But first, can you tell me what 'from ashes comes stone' means?"
"Yes. It is a saying from my birthplace. Ash comes from our great mountains of fire. The ash brings destruction and pain. But from this ash comes stone, to be built upon. When one feels pain, that means that soon one will have to rebuild. And from those times the opportunity to do so will come." He hung his head. "The Prophets did not sanction this phrase, saying it is not the truth, but among my fellow warriors it is used sparingly. Now, with nothing to make me obey them, I can use it freely."
"Hmmmm." She looked around. "I'll tell you about my God, but then, can you tell me about the Covenant?"
"It is forbidden to reveal information to humans." He clenched his fist. "Just as it is forbidden to say 'from ashes comes stone.' You will tell me what I want to know, and I will tell you the same. But speak quickly, for the Brutes will soon kill us both. There is not much time."
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Then let me start. It all began with a man named Adam..."
---
Oena stopped behind some rocks near the entrance. "We will head through the entrance. Unlan, lead your Unggoy behind us. And stay with us this time."
Unlan nodded. "Yes, sir, big Elite. We shoot stinky Brutes and Jackals just like you say, big Elite."
He sighed. "Loni, come with me. We are going to surprise these traitors." He smiled and looked down at his deactivated energy sword. "And I know how much they love surpirses."
Death: The Dark Chapters Vol. 2
Date: 26 February 2006, 5:15 am
"You see Jackal?"
Loni 'Homelac turned around to face the shaking Grunt behind him. "Yes, Lopso, for the last time, I see Jackal."
"Oh. Because me no see him."
Loni sighed and turned back to the clearing. "Keep your voice down. They're getting closer."
Why, oh why, did he volunteer to take Lopso up first? Surely the captain knew that Grunts were cowards. Maybe Oena had meant it as a lesson, to see if he would not make stupid suggestions again. Oh well.
The Needler fit comfortably into his hand. He'd carried it since his first day in battle, and had kept it with him since, without the knowledge of the Elders. They would have surely taken it from him had they known.
A light blinked in the distance. The signal. Loni blinked his own communications device. A Sangheili warrior, clad in crimson armor, crept nearer from the other rocks. Two Kig-Yar ambled along the path, oblivious to the ambush awaiting them. Loni gripped his Needler tighter and jumped.
It was over in seconds.
Loni stared at his commander, Oena 'Hyjoolne. Two dead Kig-Yar lay on the ground, sword holes in one and Needler shards in the other. Loni looked down at his blood-stained feet. "Wasn't it a Prophet's decree that none of the Covenant shall slay the other?"
"Unless they are Heretics." Oena gestured with his sword. "Come quickly. The Brutes will know we're here."
Loni nodded. He checked to make sure the Unggoy were following them, then headed into the Brute's structure behind Oena.
---
Vakk sighed. It had been a troubled day for his squad. They'd encountered four of the Elite traitors and countless Grunts. The filthy little beasts, they made him sick.
Right now the others were in the corner, squabling over who would get the most meat. Vakk ignored them and headed over to the squad leader. "What is your bidding, captain?"
The great soldier sniffed the air. "I smell filth." He readied his Brute Shot. "Get the others. We head out now."
Vakk nodded. He went over to the others and shoved them apart. "Stop fooling around, you two! The captain has ordered us to move out! Now!"
The two fools stopped and hurried over to the captain's position. Vakk followed, keeping his Carbine at the ready.
The captain's fur bristled. "Heretics!"
A blue streak flew down from the sky, striking one of Vakk's squad mates in the back. Another Elite charged from some cover, a sword in his hand.
The captain fired a salvo at the attacker. It dodged and struck, putting its blade through the captain's heart. Vakk clawed at the traitor, but he drew nothing but air. The final fellow Brute left dropped his rifle and tried to clobble the enemy into the ground, but to no avail.
It was Vakk alone against two of the heretics. He roared and dropped his rifle. Fury filled his mind, a single message repeating over and over: Kill the Elites!
He charged and tackled the blue one to the ground, causing purple blood to fly. But the sword-wielder hit.
Vakk stumbled back. He fell, staring at the sky. What is my purpose? Is it just to die? Will the Great Journey begin?
With those thoughts tormenting him, he drew his last breath and died.
---
Oena took deep breathes. The Brutes had been far too easy to slay; something was wrong. He glanced over at Loni and noticed the young warrior was limping.
Oena caught the recruit when he fell. "Loni? Are you all right?"
"Yes, commander." He pushed himself away from Oena's grasp and tried to walk, only to clutch a wall for support. "It's nothing. We must rescue our brothers."
"No, Loni. I will not lose another warrior." He took Loni's arm and put it around his neck. "If I must help your, than I will."
"No, Commander." Loni escaped from Oena's hold yet again. "You will not be able to attack if you're carrying me. I will stay here."
Oena pounded the wall. "I WILL NOT LOSE ANOTHER WARRIOR, RECRUIT!" He gasped for breath. "I have watched my previous twenty-one captains die, along with the three warriors from my squad. I shall not leave another behind."
"Unfortunately, commander, you have no choice." Loni coughed. "I'm...dying. Carrying me might kill us both, when only one of us...needs to die."
"No." Oena looked away from his wounded soldier. "No, I don't want to leave you."
"I am sorry, sir." Loni held onto the wall for support. "I will not allow you to carry me."
Oena nodded. He hid his face from the recruit. "Then you will stay here."
A single drop of moisture hit the floor. No more.
Loni stared into his eyes. "I'm sorry, commander. I want to see this war to its end."
Oena took a deep breath. The Unggoy waddled into the hallway. He composed himself. "I will miss you, Loni 'Homelac."
Loni nodded. "It was an honor serving for you. I will not forget."
Oena looked at the door leading into the rest of the building. There were still many Sangheili to save. But there was one he would have to leave behind.
He hefted his sword and headed down the hall. "And I will not forget you as well."
Chuckles of the Gravemind: The Dark Chapters, Vol. 3
Date: 21 March 2006, 5:15 am
"And that's about it."
Illuh 'Revoshu nodded. "Your history is interesting, human. We always believed you to be filthy primates incapable of intelligence."
"Thanks for the compliment." Jen sighed. "Listen, you don't have to believe me. But you asked me about it. So, do you remember the last part of our deal?"
"Yes, I do." He made an odd noise, as if clearing his throat. "The history of the Covenant began long ago, in the Age of-"
The energy door of the cell opened. Two Brutes strode in. One of them grabbed Jen roughly around the arms and hoisted her over his back. She kicked at him, to no avail. Sweat started to form on her face. She watched as Illuh was carried in the same fashion, only he put up no fight.
Can't those Elites fight? She stared at the calm warrior. Why doesn't he resist?
That wouldn't help. Not here. Not now.
She prayed silently in her head as the Brute headed to the end of the hall. God, please, have mercy. Have mercy.
"Escape is futile, filth." The Brute turned his head to look at her. He chortled. "Though it would almost be more fun than what we have to sit through." He moved his eyes back to the path. "Almost."
---
"Oena."
The word came to him. Was it a dream? A vision? Has my time come?
"The end is near." The deep voice filled his head, closing out all thought. "The Prophets have forsaken you. Your fellow warriors have all been killed. What reason do you now have to live?"
He tried to answer, tried to talk to the voice. But his mouth wouldn't move. The voice chuckled.
"You are not the wisest of them. Was that why you could not defeat him? The Demon is alive, Oena. And you cannot stop fate's advance.
"The end is near. Now you must hear. The time has come...for the end of your kind. The new power is rising, tightening its bind. It has begun, Oena. And nothing, not even your Prophets, can stop it."
He opened his eyes. The Grunt stared at him. "You okay Elite?"
Oena took in a deep breath. It had been so real, so lifelike...Had the voice meant what it had said? He shook it off. Now is the time for action. He turned to the Grunt soldier. "I'm fine. Now is the time to rescue our brothers."
"Okay, me stay behind you."
He sighed. Of all the help we could get... He clicked his lower mandibles. "Fine, stay back. But be careful. And don't run off again."
"Me promise."
He gripped the plasma rifle tighter. "Then let it begin."
---
"Got any threes?"
"Nope. Go fish."
"Crud." Private Roy Charles looked at the Sergeant. "Sir, do we have to wait like this? We've been here for half an hour."
"Sorry, son, but the Army don't take whiners." Sarge sat down on the Pelican's bench. "Well, until Honsor and the others get back, we'll have to wait."
Roy shook his head, and then turned to Corporal Evans. "Sorry, Roge, but I'm sick of this game. You win."
"My streak's now at 27." Evans plopped down next to the Sergeant. "So, Sarge, how are we getting off this thing?"
"Well, the best bet may be this bird here. I haven't gotten any responses from In Amber Clad, so either something happened to the Commander, or our communications are down." He leaned back. "Something tells me we're gonna be here a long time."
Roy carefully took the BR55 Rifle from his belt along with a cloth. The Sergeant chuckled. "You want some privacy?"
"What?" He glanced down. "Oh, you mean the rifle? No, I just like to polish it." His hand moved methodically, digging out the dirt and grime from his gun's exterior. "It makes me forget about my troubles."
"Well, while you do that, I'm going to go scout outside." The Sergeant drew an SMG and ambled outside. "Call me if anything goes wrong."
Evans stretched out his arms. "Well, I might as well run through the systems again." He stood and went to the dropship's cockpit. "Okay, the engines working fine, and..."
Roy tuned him out. He focused on scrubbing a dark spot on his firearm. A calm flowed through him, causing his muscles to relax. And those guys laughed at me for doing this. He glanced up from his work to see something streak across the sky. He furrowed his brow. "What the-" His gaze followed the line as it traveled away. "Hey, Evans, did you see that?"
"See what?"
He faced the corporal. "I don't know, it streaked across the sky."
"Wait." Evans jumped up from his seat. "What did you say?"
"Well, it streaked across the sky, kinda this blue and white-" He glanced back. "Hey, there's another one!"
The two of them hurried to the Pelican's opening. Blue lines traversed the dusk-lit sky. Roy realized they were landing closer...and closer...and...
One landed about three meters away from them. Roy squinted through the smoke. It was a pod, with blue clouds forming from its middle section. He leapt back as it burst open.
The black blur practically flew, striking down the corporal. Roy backed away, but not fast enough. The attacker charged into him too. Whether by luck or God's hand the sword missed, of course, the rest of whatever attacked didn't. Roy slammed into the ground five meters from his standing position.
The black-clad warrior strode forward, the blue plasma blade in its hands glistening. Roy recognized it: An Elite. He fired off a burst from his battle rifle, but to no help. The warrior continued coming at its slow, steady pace.
Roy closed his eyes. Well, at least God didn't let me die of old age. Of course, is that really something to be thankful for?
The Elite roared something in its alien tongue. Roy shrugged. "Yeah, same to you."
The alien raised the sword above its head. Roy moved his rifle into a final firing position. "Hey, meat face. Eat lead." He let off a round of clean, crisp shots into the attacker's face. Then another. And another. And another. The Elite yelled as its shield flashed and disappeared.
Roy pulled the trigger. The alien fell, three bullets implanted in its neck. Roy's hand shook as he got to his feet.
"Don't worry." He kicked the corpse. "I'll make sure your friends get the same."
With that, he darted off into the trees.
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