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Darker Chapters
Posted By: Sir_brilliant<sir_brilliant@yahoo.com>
Date: 6 April 2006, 4:53 pm
Read/Post Comments
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This is a short series describing the darker side of halo.
----------------------
Jackal
Hunched over, Jankel backhanded a lesser Grunt, knocking it to the ground. He walked past it with his plasma pistol down and energy shield deactivated. As leader of his squad, it mattered little what they thought of him, so long as they followed his orders and didn't question him. If they failed to accomplish either of these, there would be no fighting for them again. Ever.
The rank Jankel had was not earned. It was taken. Each of his predecessors was slaughtered mercilessly, although that is not what the reports state. They say that they were killed by the enemy, but only those who win the battles write the history.
Each of his predecessors, however, was just another building block on Jankel's path to becoming darker.
--------------------------
The first was the most difficult for Jankel. Before then, he was not the same being. He followed orders religiously, performed protocol like no other. And yet, he could not climb through the ranks. Disrespected and dishonored for too long, he found another solution. After finishing a battle against some weak humans, Jankel took his weapon and shot his leader. Even after he ceased living, Jankel continued firing until one could not tell what it had been before the battle.
"Anyone who speaks of this," he said, "will meet the same fate." All of the Grunts gulped loudly in unison, and never mentioned it once, not even to each other.
Yet instead, two other high-ranking Jackals took the dead one's place. Infuriated, Jankel killed the first thing he saw, an unfortunate Grunt. He took one of its plasma grenades and activated it on the Grunt's claw, smartly making it look like an accident. The explosion did make Jankel relax, enough to make use of the situation, and make a plan. An evil grin stained his face when he was certain it would work.
Ordered to defend one section of a stronghold from any human attack, his squad sat quietly for some time, waiting. One of the Grunts was playing with dolls, and it annoyed Jankel immensely. Almost to the point where he could take the doll and force it down the stupid Grunt's throat. The thought eased him slightly, but not enough. If I want to succeed, this one must not die by my hand. Yet.
Then they struck. Human filth fired at them, their primitive weapons releasing metallic projectiles towards him and his team. The two higher ranked Jackals activated their energy shields and barked orders to the lesser Grunts. He knew orders were given to him as well, but Jankel was already proceeding with his own plan.
The humans, when victorious in any battle, have a poor habit of using the same battle strategy continuously until it fails. Until that point, there is no flaw that needs to be sought after. Thus, the plan used was not new; using large boulders for cover while attacking, thus being limited to harm. It is a perfect plan in a human's feeble mind, thinking that Grunts and Jackals were weak. Jankel decided to use that arrogance.
Running around several larger boulders to the left of the attacking humans, Jankel poked his head around one and saw them. One was firing directly in front of him, not more than five yards and had its back to him. The other two that he could see were farther away, using another large rock to protect themselves with. Perfect. All were oblivious to his presence.
Placing his energy shield and plasma pistol on the ground, Jankel sneaked up to the closest human while holding his breath, and reached for one of the primitive fragmentation grenades. He used one claw on his left arm to pull the activation pin on it, and gently relieved the grenade of it.
As the grenade clicked, Jankel pushed the human as hard as he was able and ran for cover. He heard the detonation, and the explosion pushed him to the ground. Turning to view the destruction, all that was left was dead, and in pieces. But there was no time to savor his glorious work, for there was more to be done.
Scanning the blast radius, Jankel looked for a human weapon that was still capable of firing and wasn't too hot to hold, as well as accurate. In the pile of molten metal and flesh, it was difficult, but he thanked the lords for giving him and his race keen vision, for he had found the necessary tool. Then using the same boulders for cover as the humans, he opened fire.
His squad, in the meantime, believed the humans to be incredibly stupid and clumsy. Although this belief is true in most situations, it is no excuse for not making sure that the enemy was defeated. Even if it seemed as though they killed themselves with their own grenade. They had let their guard down too easily, and were laughing about it, not battle ready in the slightest.
His first two projectiles entered the head of one superior's skull. Just as its partner noticed something was amiss, he too was pumped full of metal shards and given a meeting with the dirt.
Now was the tricky part. Jankel tan back to where he dropped off his shield and plasma pistol, firing his weapon around wildly on the way. He then picked up the plasma pistol and fired it erratically as well, and dropped the human weapon. After a few seconds, he stopped firing altogether and came around the corner so his squad could see, and let out a battle cry.
From that incident he was given command of the squad, which was transferred to permanent guard duty aboard some ship. They alone stood guard for a hangar, which both excited and agitated Jankel. On the one hand, he was able to do whatever he wished and was not to be ordered by any Elites, but from the killings he had done, he had acquired a taste for blood. At the moment, he hadn't realized it though.
Some time passed and Jankel found that he could not sit still. On a normal day, where he was simply walking around and the Grunts under his command either slept or patrolled the perimeter, he was more than bored. There was a yearning for something, but he could not understand what it was. His muscles ached, his heart rocketed, and soon it was unbearable. He felt as though something had to be done, or he would go insane. And soon he did.
Acting courteously to the Grunts and telling them to all rest, they all went to sleep. He gave them time to all fall asleep, and forced himself into the corner of the hangar and squeezed himself with all his might, waiting for the right moment. Finally getting up, he walked over to the closest Grunt, woke it up, and took it to the other side of the Hangar.
When they reached the corner, Jankel grabbed the breathing mask off the Grunt and threw it away, and started hitting it as hard profusely. It yelled, but he continued beating it, and started to use his gun, both hitting with it and shooting it. The others awoke and his intense sense of hearing made him aware of them, so he finished the job.
The Grunts all turned the corner with their weapons ready, and Jankel stood with one foot on top of the downed Grunts head, panting heavily. "This one tried to kill me in my sleep!" he yelled, taking deep breaths in between. "Let this be a warning to all. The next who attacks me will perish much more painfully than he! Now back on duty, no sleeping!" They all scampered to their respective posts, and Jankel sneered. It was too easy, but nobody saw. Or so he thought.
Every several days another Grunt mysteriously attacked Jankel, each one failing and being found looking less and less like something that used to be considered a living being. Ligaments would be scattered around the floor, blood would be sprayed on walls, ships, and weapon cabinets. After each incident, a replacement came and took the spot of the deceased. And there was always a replacement.
One day, another Grunt was killed and his replacement came, like usual, but this one was curious. He came to the other Grunts and asked questions. "Why does we die here," and, "what kills us?" But none ever answered, for they feared Jankel. After some time, the newest replacement was sitting in the lotus stance and sleeping when some hit him. Looking up and around, he saw a Grunt turn the corner, and he followed.
As he turned, something pulled him under a weapons cache. "Quiet. We will talk."
---------------------------------
The replacement gathered all the Grunts together while Jankel was actually sleeping. "Why do you let Jackal push you around? He no better than Grunt."
"He stronger and powerfuller than Grunts," one said.
"He kill us if he want," another yelped.
"Quiet! We Grunts. We strong together. Jackal's mean and stupid. Me no like Jackals. Who fight Jackal with me?"
Silence ensued for a few seconds, and just as he was about to feel disheartened, one stepped forward. "Me fight."
"Me no fight! Me no like fighting!"
The first one smacked the second. "We all fight. Stupid."
"Good," said the replacement. "we fight now."
"Now?"
"Yes, now."
"Why not later?"
"I said now."
"Maybe we-"
"Shut up."
"Ohh…"
The four Grunts walked over to where Jankel was sleeping, but didn't see him. "Where he be?"
"Stupid Grunts!" Every Grunt jumped in fright and all looked around to where Jankel was, but none saw. "I heard every word that you said, and now you will all die for conspiring against me!" Green plasma came from behind one of the weapons cache's and hit one of the Grunts. The others returned fire and ran towards Jankel.
Rolling away from the cache, Jankel raised his shield and the Grunts all fired at it, but could not penetrate it. Jankel fired, however, at them through the small hole at the edge of the shield and hit another Grunt, killing it. One of the Grunt's threw a grenade, and it landed right at Jankel's feet.
The Jackal continued firing for a moment longer, then put his shield between his body and the grenade and jumped forward. When the grenade exploded, the force of the blast broke Jankel's shield, but didn't inflict any damage to him. He, however, flew right at the Grunts, and landed on top of the replacement, and started to hit him. The other two Grunts ran to assist, but Jankel fired at the one coming up on his left and it fell.
The other Grunt fired several shots at Jankel, and two hit him in his side, kicking him off of the Grunt. Now both Grunts fired at Jankel, and the plasma continued to push him back, until he tripped from his weakened state. The two Grunts stood over Jankel, both aiming their plasma pistols at him.
"I…will…kill…you…"
"No, you die now."
"Wait! I have better idea." Taking hold of Jankel's scorched body, the two Grunts hefted him over to the hangar's exit out into space, which was open, but protected by an energy shield. He still breathed, and tried to fight the grip of the two Grunts, but was too weak to do anything. They started waving him back and forth.
"One. Two. Three!" At three, they tossed him into the abyss of space. They saw him pass through the shields, and watched his body until they could no longer see it against the blackness of space.
"Oh well. You call for replacements. Me have work."
"Work? What work? Me the replacement!" But the Grunt kept walking away, and went under a weapons cache. He put down his pistol and took hold of two dolls.
******
******
******
Human
Red was not happy. Checking his shirt pocket, there was only two cigarettes left. Damn. He pulled one out and flicked his lighter until the flam stayed, then lit it and inhaled deeply. He sighed, looking up at the sky and holding his cigarette with his two fingers on his right hand. It was pretty clear, but the clouds were rolling in. When he first saw the clouds, he was glad because it was so damned hot here, but now it was getting late, and at night it got really cold. Red was not happy with that.
"Stan, you were a real asshole. You know that?" He took another puff from the cigarette, then tilted his head back and breathed it out. Kicking his legs up, he got up and started pacing slowly. "I did the world a favor putting that bullet in your head. Hell, it's not like one person can save us from the Covenant." He shrugged. "Not like those bastards I've killed could stop the Covenant. Not much of a funeral speech, is it?"
Putting the cigarette to his lips again, Red held it with his mouth and took his pistol out. Looking over it, he wiped it with a wet cloth. This gun is damned dirty. Disgusting. Taking one last big puff, he turned around and started walking away. "Here Stan. You'll need it more than me." Red flicked the rest of the cigarette to the body lying on the ground, and it landed on his chest, next to his mouth.
"Later."
-------------------------
It was now night, and dark and stormy. Rain was pouring on Red, and it pissed him off. There was nothing he could do about it though…every building in sight had no cover or he couldn't get into, and he didn't want to make a ruckus making a hole in some wall.
Twenty minutes ago it was only slightly cloudy, and now he stood drenched, wearing military fatigues and no hat or helmet. His short hair was attached to his head, which was freezing. And just two clicks away it's sunny, he thought. Screw that. He took one last whiff of his cigarette, and threw it on the ground, then scrunching it with his boot.
"Hey. Where's Stan?" Red looked up and saw his sergeant, and shrugged, making no facial expression at all.
"Dunno. We were on patrol together, but split up. Figured we'd cover more ground that way, and he said we'd meet up here. Hey sarge, you got any cig's? I'm fresh out."
The sergeant looked harshly at Red. "You know those are illegal, don't you?"
Red turned his head to the left. "So? Why do you think they gave them to us if we're not allowed to smoke them? Plus it's too cold and wet to go without them."
Shrugging and sighing, the sergeant took out his pack and pulled one out. The box was completely full. Red took it and lit up. "Just keep your eyes open. There are probably still some Covenant patrols hangin around. I'd have someone to keep watch with you here, but Stan's the only free man around, and he's missing."
"Doesn't matter, he'll be here soon enough. I'll just keep watch without him. Won't be any problem since he's coming back." The sergeant nodded and patted Red on the shoulder, then turned and walked away. Red took another deep breath. He finished the cigarette and tossed it on the ground.
Pulling out his combat knife gently, Red jumped on the sergeant and turned him around, then slashed his throat. Blood pumped out profusely, and he fell to the ground, holding his wound and looking at Red. He struggled, but the life just drained out of him. "Why?" he whispered.
Coming as close as he could, Red reached into the sergeant's shirt pocket and took the cigarette pack and lighter, then walked back and sat on a rock. "Three reasons, although I doubt you'll live long enough to hear all three. One, I don't like taking orders, and I don't like you. Two, I needed the cig's. In case you haven't notices, it's raining, dark, cold, and I really am stressed from all that. Some might say it's a hostile work environment, and I'm no fan of that. And three, I enjoy talking to dead people. Much more than living people. You know how hard it is to find someone who you can actually talk to, without having any arguments or problems, for hours on end? Damn, not enough. But if they aren't talking back, that's fine by me. So do me a favor and be dead now, cause I really am not that patient."
"Bastard…killed Stan…bastard."
"Geez, you're still alive?" He got up and walked over to the sergeant, and stood right over him. "Damn, now I'm gonna make a mess." Red went back to where he left his combat knife, picked it up, and then heard erratic movement behind him. Turning around, he saw the sergeant spasm slightly and his head dropped. "That's better. Gave me a scare sarge…I thought I would have to go ninja on your ass. Plus nobody would' a believed that slitting your throat didn't do the job. Then again, its not like anyone's gonna fins out anyways."
Red threw another cigarette butt to the ground and lit another. You know sarge, these cig's are crap. A couple puffs and their gone. Not much flavor either. I must've smoked mine and Stan's in twenty minutes. They don't make 'em like they used to."
A few moments passed and Red checked his watch. "You're probably wondering why I did it. I mean, why I really did it. Sure all the other reasons I gave were good and all, and it definitely gives me good enough reason to kill you, but they're not the underlying thing. Damnit! I can't light this damn thing in the rain!" Reaching over, he grabbed the sergeant's hat and lit up under it, then put it on. Much better. Where was I…oh yeah. We're the last facet of humanity left, which is cool and all, except for the fact that the rest have been completely wiped out. We've been fighting this war for too long and losing. It's like we're fighting the nature of the universe. Humanity, the weaker, less advanced race, is going extinct. There's no denying it.
I mean, look. We've had over two decades to figure out how to win, and even with the brightest minds we've gotten nowhere near their technology, let alone being able to stand up to them. Sure, we might be close in ground combat, but that's nothing as long as their superior in every other respect. Thus, we are still screwed.
Realistically, I'm doing everybody a favor. I'm making sure you guys don't have to face the agony of war and defeat. And on top of that, I'm helping the Covenant so they get the job done faster. It's a hell of a job, but someone's gotta do it."
Checking his watch again, he got up and put his knife back in its sheath. "Well sarge, I've already been here too long. They'll be looking for you any minute now, and that means that they should have their privacy when talking to you.
His radio suddenly went off. "All units, Covenant forces have been spotted in the vicinity. Be advised, if you are near coordinates 001942, you are ordered to find and destroy them. I repeat, if you are near coordinates 001942 you are ordered to find and destroy all enemy units." What the…wait, where am I?
Pulling out his map, Red unfolded it as fast as he could. Adrenaline pumped through him and made his hands shake, and the faster he tried to unfold the map the harder it became to do so. Damnit, stupid natural reaction. This is what I want! When he finally got it, he turned it several times until it was right side up, then turned it one more time. His head shot up like a groundhog's, looking around quickly then back down at his map. His finger rolled up the map until he found his location and coordinates.
Shit. That's me. And as soon as the shock kicked in, plasma fire broke out overhead. Red instinctively fell to the ground and rolled to his left, getting behind some debris for cover. Just as instinctively, he activated his radio, but stopped himself before he could say anything. Damn, if I call in for backup, they'll see sarge and find out I did it. I've gotta get out of here before they find him. He stood up to run and plasma bolts flew all around him, and he fell to the ground. Or not.
Grabbing hold of the BR55 strapped on his back, Red took a clip from his pocket and loaded the weapon. He picked it up and made ready to fire, and a Grunt turned the corner. They spotted each other, and both immediately were startled. The Grunt jumped up and Red, unintentionally, pulled the trigger and nailed the Grunt in the head without aiming. Oops, he thought sarcastically.
The amount of plasma fire that was coming at him was too much for him to look around and count how many there were. He guessed there were five or six, including an Elite. It would only be a matter of time before they all stormed him and took him out. He needed to distract them and make an exit. Reaching on his belt, he found an empty space where his grenade should have been. Then he remembered trading it for a pack of smokes. A grenade well spent.
Wait! Sarge should still have his grenades. Damn, why didn't I take them before? I bet Stan had one also…could've had a lot more smokes. He lied down on the ground on his stomach and reached for the sergeant's leg, but couldn't reach. Red crawled closer very slowly, and plasma bolts started hitting the sergeant. Finally reaching his leg, Red pulled with all his strength and got the sergeant to safety. "You won't be needing these, I'm sure." Taking the two grenades off his belt, Red unclipped both and threw them over his shoulder. They exploded together, but the plasma fire ensued.
He had no exit, and Red was fresh out of ideas. He took out his BR55 again and opened fire, but knew he would lose. A plasma bolt struck his right arm and he dropped the gun and fell to the ground behind the debris. Well, it was a hell of a run. Eventually they would have gotten me anyways.
The sound of human weaponry came out of nowhere, and the plasma fire became erratic, then disappeared. Several marines came out of the shadows, all holding steaming guns. "What the…how long have you guys been sitting there, waiting for me to give up all hope?!"
"Don't worry Red, we just got here. But if we knew you gave up hope so easily, we would have waited till the very last second."
"Thanks…I think."
"Sir, the sergeant is down!"
"What've we got soldier?"
"He's got a ton of plasma scarring…probably too much for him to take."
"Red, what happened?"
"Well, we were talking, waiting for…err…Stan, and then the radio signal came in, and we were attacked. Sarge was hit immediately, and I got him behind here, but he was too badly hit. I did everything I could, but there was nothing to do."
"Oh? Is that so? Then why are there all these cigarette butts scattered everywhere?"
"We were smoking together. For awhile."
"The sarge doesn't smoke."
"Ok, so I smoked all of them. He said that he didn't like smoking anyways, and I needed them bad. Hell, I could really use one now."
"That's too bad soldier. You know why? Because you are in deep shit." Red looked around, and all he saw were unfriendly faces. He reached for his gun but the others were too fast. "That's what I thought. Cigarettes by Stan, a trail of them to here…"
"Wow, good job. You guys are just the regular Scooby doo detective agency. Friggin morons. That could have been anyone!"
"More proof? Don't worry, we've got it. When you thought the sarge died, he turned on his radio, and we heard everything. I mean everything. You are a sick person. Thankfully, we were able to triangulate on the signal and find you. Now we can perform something I like to call a mob ruling. Which is something you should be thankful for, because it means you get a last request. Pick quickly, I'm not very patient either."
Red reached into his shirt pocket and three of the marines fired at him, one at each arm, and the last in his left leg. Red groaned and fell on one knee. "That was stupid…you have a request or not."
"Gimme my cig's," he said in a low tone. A marine stood him up, reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. Lighting it, he stuck it in Red's mouth, who took a big puff. His shoulders relaxed, and he finished the cigarette in front of them. "Do whatever you want." Red tried to stay standing, but he fell over. They stood him up again, but his legs were jelly, and couldn't hold him. They checked him, and one of the marines shot's punctured an artery.
The rain poured down on Red's face, and he lay there, soaked in the cold water, which was up to his ears. He could feel the cold, even though he lost all feeling for everything else. His eyes remained open and he couldn't close them as raindrops hit them, over and over again. The storm only got worse.
******
******
******
Brute
The sound of ferocious crunching and bulbous chewing could be heard throughout the prison cell, and nothing else was heard. It was incredibly loud, but no other being dared disturb it. Only the sound of eating, and a complete silence.
It was broken by the sound of the giant doors opening, and three Brutes entered the prison. The two in front were its guards, and the one behind was a visitor. The term was never used because no prisoner was allowed to be met by an outsider, though it had never occurred that one would want to before. The Brutes, however, thought little of such trivial matters.
They walked past the cells, each one with bars made of an unbreakable alloy, and dark purple walls both in and outside of the cells. The visitor looked in each cell, turning his head left and right, and what he saw astounded him. Grunts, Jackals, and Drones all cowered in the corners of their cells, shaking violently. But they were all completely silent. For a moment, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his snout, then grinned. Their fear smells…tantalizing.
Reaching the end of the cell block, the noise was more horrific as a sight. A Brute sat in the prison, gnawing away at what looked like an arm of a Drone. The only reason it looked like a Drone's remains was from the color; everything else was too brutalized to distinguish from anything else that littered the cell, which was filled with extremities of other beings. The two guards unlocked the cell and the visitor entered, and the bars were locked behind him. "Just yell when you're done."
The visitor grunted and the guards walked off, but neither the prisoner nor the visitor spoke until they left. "Lateralus! It is good to see you!"
"Yes brother, it is a good day. But please, finish, eat your fill. I will wait."
"No, it has been too long since we've last spoken. We will talk." Lateralus smiled, and the two hit each other's chests with their right hands, then sat on the floor. "Tell me, how are thing? It is not often that I speak to anyone, as you may have noticed." He waved the arm he held, then threw it into the pile behind him, landing on some bones and armor. "The guards are available at times, though they cannot spend much time here, or others will become curious."
"I understand. Do not fear, no one has seen me enter, and I may stay until the sun sets and rises."
"Excellent!" He clapped. "Then we must rejoice, and have a feast tonight!" The entire room suddenly filed with screams, and the two Brutes laughed heartily. It would be a great feast indeed.
------------------------------
"The key is to make sure you finish whatever you are going to eat. You don't want to leave something alive and rip an arm off, because then it will fester and taste bad later. If you're going to eat it Lateralus, eat everything."
"Very true. I'm sure it preserves the flavor as well."
"Yes, it does. So, I have been thinking for much time about our holy Covenant, and have found a solution to our problem."
"Problem?"
"The Elites. They take our glory and our right to be at the service of the Prophets. As a weaker and less intelligent race, they should be at our mercy to command, and yet they are not. This is a troubling fact."
"Agreed. But you say that there is a solution?"
"It is quite simple Lateralus. One must thing like the vermin. They are in the position of power because they have simply been within the Covenant longer. This means their power comes from tradition, not any formal respect or anything earned. That means crushing them will not be difficult, but proving ourselves will be no difficulty either. Both can be done simultaneously. However, to do so we must proceed with much caution."
"What is your plan?"
"Because I am trapped within this cell, you must kill an Elite for a reason that would only tarnish their status in the Council and the Covenant. You must make a believable scene that it was simply you defending yourself against a weak and stupid fool, and that the rest are incompetent just like that one, but without saying it. You must make all believe it. Then the other races will lose respect for them and the Prophets will see them as not fit to carry the burden of power. They will be left alone in the Covenant, and we will rid of their existence then."
Lateralus look up from the last of his meal and contemplated everything. "You, brother, are a genius. However you came up with such a plan, I may never know, but you are correct in it. As simple as it is."
"It is not so simple though. The idea itself sounds clever, but your task will be much more difficult than my ponderings. You are the one who must fulfill it and bring honor to our race. Much discretion will be necessary, and you cannot tell anyone of this. If others find out, then soon all will know and the Elites will surely ban us from the Covenant."
"I understand. I shall fulfill this and bring disgrace upon the Elites. They will no longer control or bring prominence to the Covenant so long as my heart beats!"
"Then go brother, for it must be done in haste. Time is of the essence." Lateralus nodded and yelled to the guards, who returned and took him out of the prison. The cell remained quiet for a few minutes after they left. "It is done."
"Not quite," a voice behind him said. The Brute turned and bowed, and a being appeared, its camouflage deactivated. "There is one more matter than you must be burdened with."
"Anything, noble one. My allegiance is to you, holy Truth."
"And I would not think differently. But now, you must die." The Prophet discharged a weapon and killed the Brute instantly. "When your brother finds you here again, he will make sure that he succeeds, or dies trying. And that is all one can truly ask for."
--------------------------
Lateralus stood in an open field with a team of several Grunts, a Jackal, two Drones and an Elite leader. The Drones flew away on patrol, and the Grunts were sleeping. The Jackal carried a sniper rifle and watched for any intruders. Lateralus wielded a brute shot and also carried a plasma pistol on his belt, and the Elite carried a carbine.
How am I to do this? He pondered. It would be difficult to make all those here believe that he was the one attacked, although it would be necessary for them to see as well. He walked up to the Jackal and bent over to his ear. "Do you know this Elite?"
The Jackal jumped back instantly. "Do not yell in my ear!" Lateralus had forgotten that the Jackal's pride themselves with their keen eyesight and hearing, but this was no time to disrespect him. He took the Jackal in both hands and picked it up in the air, squeezing it. "I will not ask again."
"Yes, I do!"
"Silence! You will speak quietly or I will make sure you cannot speak loudly again. What do you know?"
"The Elite is Esme 'Onkuree, a great battalion leader. He is one of the few Elites given gold armor that is not a Zealot or a ship captain. He is on short duty for an injury, and chose to take our squad."
"Excellent. Do you like him?"
"No, I hate all Elites. They are a despicable race, and treat us Jackals like garbage."
"Interesting…what would you do if I could guarantee respect for your entire race in the Covenant?"
"I don't understand."
Lateralus put the Jackal down and spoke softly to him. "The Brutes will soon take the place of the Elites. It is something that no one has control over, and it will happen because we Brutes are better than the Elites in every way. It will only take time for all to see that. You and I, however, may make that time come sooner, perhaps within our own lives. How does this sound?"
The Jackal looked around, looking to see if anyone else had heard, but the Grunts slept and 'Onkuree stood far off. "What must I do?"
"You must ensure that those Grunts and the Drones see me kill the Elite in self defense, and make them believe it. Do this, and our victory will be the beginning of their end." The Jackal smiled widely and jumped around, but Lateralus was on his way to the Elite already. He needed to make the fight believable, because if he could not, no amount of convincing could make the rest believe it was true.
"Sir," Lateralus said when he reached Esme, "I am honored by your presence here. I wish to know of your battles." Lateralus lumbered over the Elite, both in height and width. He held his brute shot with one hand, and kept it loose.
--------------------------
"Sir, that is amazing. You killed all those humans by yourself. It cannot be true." He nudged the Elite, but hard, not playfully.
Esme looked at his shoulder that just was hit and back at Lateralus. "Why have you hit me? You bring disgrace upon yourself!"
"Nonsense. It is simply a friendly gesture." He hit him again, harder this time.
"Do it one more time and you will die." Lateralus laughed heartily and hit him much harder this time, and Esme leaped on top of Lateralus. They fell to the floor and both their weapons fell, and the Elite started beating Lateralus profusely, pounding his face and chest with all his might. But Lateralus was not fazed, and threw Esme off of him. They both stood and ran towards each other, wrestling to bring each other down, and Lateralus gave way on purpose. He fell and his plasma rifle dropped off from his belt, and was easily noticed by both. Lateralus made a grab for it, but Esme reached it first and opened fire at him point blank.
Plasma streaked across Lateralus' chest and burned hair and flesh, and now he could act no longer. He grabbed hold of the gun and broke it on Esme's head, then grabbed his body with one hand and the Elite's head with another, and pulled them apart. In seconds, he detached them, and threw them both on the ground. Blood poured from the headless body, but Lateralus was too weak to continue on, and collapsed in it.
The Jackal and the Grunts game running to the two, but suddenly several Elites appeared from nowhere and stopped them. They wore light blue armor, and took the two away.
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"This court will hear what all have to say! You," pointing at Lateralus, "state your name."
"I am Lateralus, from the tribe of the west."
"And the charge?"
"Murder of a superior officer," said one of the Elites on the judge's side. The judge, a lesser Prophet, looked at the room in disgust.
"And how do you plead, Lateralus?"
"In the act of murder? Not guilty."
"And what does this mean?"
Lateralus looked up, and felt his hands in chains. "I killed my superior officer, but I did not murder him. He attacked me, and I failed to stop him. He fired at me and I acted in rage, as any other would. My actions are in order with this Covenant and this court."
"I see. And you," the judge said pointing to two light-blue armored Elites, "what did you see?"
"There was provocation. This Brute intentionally attacked him for no viable reason, and killed him without spite or remorse. He hit Esme 'Onkulee three times before they fought and was warned twice. Others have been prosecuted and convicted for less."
"I am well aware of that, and don't need you to tell me," the judge snared. "And what say the lesser ones?"
"Their statements do not matter-"
"I will run my courtroom without interference. Understood?"
"Yes, your honor. They all stated that this Brute fought in self defense."
"I see. Then I am inclined to allow him to leave this courtroom, for there is nothing to discuss. This 'Onkulee has obviously received what he asked for. Court adjourned, the prisoner goes free." Lateralus' chains broke off his wrists and he left the courtroom, which was filled with the screams of those Elites and the Prophet. His plan had worked, and it had made them look like fools. Now he would go see his brother and find further instruction.
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Arriving at the prison, Lateralus walked through, and it was silent again. But not like when he had first entered, rather an eerie, dead silence. He came upon the cell his brother was in and saw his brother on the ground, probably sleeping. "Brother, I am here."
His brother didn't stir. "Brother?" Looking about the cell, Lateralus saw a faint speck of what looked like the blood of a Brute on the ground. Brother! He grabbed the bars and pulled with all his might. Rage built up within him and his strength increased, and he pulled again, ten times harder than before. The bars broke off from the wall they were attached to and he ran in and turned his brother over, only to see plasma scorching all over his body. "The Elites, they did this. They…will…pay!"
Lateralus went berserk and ran out of the prison, and saw the Elites standing there. "Now you will die, worthless Brute, for your petty actions against us. You try to disband our Covenant, and now you will be released from it."
"You killed my brother, and now you will all die!"
The three Elites opened fire on Lateralus, and he jumped on one, smashing it to the ground and hitting it with immense strength. Soon it was splattered so bad that even if it had survived there would be no way for the Elite to head. The other two continued firing, and Lateralus weakened, but attacked the next Elite, killing it. The third threw a plasma grenade and it hit Lateralus on the leg, killing him instantly.
The final Elite checked the other two, but saw there was no hope for them. "Brother? We did not kill his brother."
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In the distance, above the prison's high roof, the Prophet of Truth whispered into the Guard's ear. "Tartarus, your time has come…"
******
******
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Elite
Xika 'Olangee stood in front of the council chambers, the massive doors opening only for those allowed by those most holy council members and their guests. He had been summoned, which meant that another mission was waiting for him. Licking his lips, Xika praised the lords that he had been blessed to know the elders of the council, for they understood his nature and used it in the most appropriate manner. Destroying.
The doors opened and Xika entered, and saw the elders sitting on the Elite side of the council chambers. Like he'd expected, no Prophets were in the council chambers. Their presence was not necessary or wanted during such meetings, and they cared little for coming to them regardless. "Welcome Xika, it is good to see you," one of the council members exclaimed. Xika looked at him and recognized him as the leader, the eldest of the council members, who was never referred to by name. They simply called him the elder.
"I am honored to be invited, Elder."
"Yes, I think we can all sense that, Xika. However, I will not waste time. You have heard of the finding of the second Halo, yes?"
"Of course, Elder, as well as the Humans who are on it, as well as the Death of the Prophet of Regret, and rumors of you all leaving the high council."
"Good, you are very well informed. Then you may have a better understanding of what needs to be done. Excellent." Elder rose and walked from his podium into the center of the room and in front of Xika. "The council members have been discussing many things, most of which pertain to our holy Covenant, which is so close to disbanding. However, we have found one serious detail that has been at every problem within our Covenant: the Demon."
Xika's eyes glittered for a moment as he understood what his mission would be, and the anticipation started to rise immensely. It was more than he could ever have hoped for…a real challenge. "I understand my mission. What are my parameters?"
The Elder smiled, and the rest of the council members continued on with their conversation. "Although it has never been done, and surely a frightening beast one may become from it, there is no choice. There are no parameters. Use whatever means necessary to eliminate the Demon. Take whatever forces, weapons, armor…whatever you think it will require. You are not restrained by any laws that we have governed ourselves with for the last ten centuries, nor can anyone other than ourselves change that."
Although he felt as though he should be shocked, Xika wasn't. He simply thought of the possibilities this gave him, the limitless bounds that he could go through to kill the greatest threat to the Covenant.
"And what will be my reward for achieving this goal?"
"Yes, the council has been pondering this for some time. However, we have come to a conclusion, one we believe you will agree with us on. Your reward will be the honor of defeating the Demon, the destroyer of Halo and the slayer of over 10,000 Covenant warriors. What more could one ask for, than to be remembered for all eternity as the greatest Covenant warrior to ever have served?"
He thought for a moment and smiled, then pondered what he could do. There was nothing he couldn't do…if he wished, he could recruit an army or just a few soldiers, use heavy weaponry or none at all…it was amazing. "Consider it done, Elder." Xika bowed his head quickly and left, went on his way to fulfill his mission. No, not just his mission. His purpose.
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Sifting through reports, the Demon had been spotted numerous times, most of which led to the death of whomever was at the scene. Their armor's visual recorder, however, led a clever path to follow. Last spotted at High Charity, where Xika himself had been for the last several days, but the planetoid was too large so search so slowly. He needed a team, and assembled one.
There were three Grunts, all of which had flown through the ranks and were all in special operations units. Xika knew Grunts exceptionally well, and knew that none of them would intentionally get to that position…their physical and mental abilities, however, had led them to reach their status, either by accident or on purpose. And from his choices, they were all on purpose.
The offer was simple: they do their best and work for him without question or difficulty, and he would allow them to return to their homeworld, where they would never have to fight again. It was a small price to pay for full cooperation, especially when they were utterly useless most of the time.
Several teams of Hunters were also brought forth, all of which had one simple task: to make sure nothing went inside or out of a room, corridor, alley…whatever the situation called for. There were four pairs, each one on a different signal that he could send at a moments notice. They were only to be used when the Demon was found, and a Phantom held all of them and remained airborne, waiting for Xika's signal.
The remainder of his crew was the entire security force on High Charity. They all had been informed previously to signal him if the Demon was seen anywhere on high charity through the security system, and there were hundreds of officers who sat in rooms watching holo-panels, waiting to see something, as well as hundreds more on patrol, both on High Charity itself and flying high overhead in banshees. He would be spotted, and soon.
The weaponry he used was also picked for the best possibility to kill the Demon. He had long studied its shield system and choice of weapons, and acted accordingly. He carried a carbine and a plasma rifle, as well as a sword that was clipped onto his belt. Xika also scavenged for Human grenades, for he knew their effectiveness against the Demon would be greater, since no Covenant warrior in their right mind would ever use such a dishonorable weapon. But when the Elder said any means necessary, Xika did not care for honor. That would come later.
But for the moment, there was little to be done. Xika could only wait for a report or a sighting to come in. There was no other way to find his target unless he saw it himself, which he doubted highly. The light blue armor he wore did not match the purple scenery, nor did he need it to. His active camouflage would keep him safe from any harm.
Suddenly a transmission came through. "The Demon has been spotted! High Charity, section 20384!"
Xika instantly brought up a map and found the area, checked the distance and the time it would take to arrive. He calculated the direction the Demon was going in, the speed he was moving at, and his position by the time Xika would arrive, and made sure to arrive far ahead of the Demon. He wanted to catch it by surprise. He opened a channel to the phantom carrying the Hunters. "Travel to section 21948 and drop off all Hunters, then await further instructions." Then he took his own Phantom's grav-lift and ordered the pilot to go to the same coordinates. Checking the map once more, he scrutinized section 21948 to determine the best location to kill the Demon, and found it. A local Human holding cell.
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Showing two fingers, Gordon saw them and followed instructions. Benson ran closer to the enemy, a very large Brute that sat in the middle of the room with its back to the two marines. It didn't notice them, and for all they cared, it was twiddling its thumbs. Gordon followed suit and found cover, then aimed his weapon and prepared to fire, but waited for the signal. Benson saw an opening, primed and threw his plasma grenade.
It landed on the Brutes helmet. It snapped out of its stupor in a startle and jumped from the ground. The grenade slid off its helmet, but exploded before the Brute could react. It was the room's only defense, and they could free whatever hostages had been taken. Both Benson and Gordon couldn't understand why hostages were taken, because usually the Covenant executed any humans they recovered, but it didn't matter. As long as they could save a few more lives, that's all that mattered.
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'Olangee silently crawled behind one of the two Brutes standing guard, both of which couldn't spot him because he had his camouflage actived. Several Drones were also in the vicinity, and none had seen the bent light from his armor's devices. Using the walls to hang above one Brute, his plan was working easily until a Drone headed his way. He remained still, but the Drone prepared to land on the ceiling portion that from which he hung.
Xika had no choice but to drop. Doing so, he activated his energy sword and pierced the neck of the Brute, decapitating it. Just as the other turned towards him, green plasma struck its back and stalled it long enough for Xika to end its life. His Grunts cleared the path and they entered the room.
He stretched his arms, feeling better than ever. He was ready to kill, and did a favor for the council members by ending those Brutes' lives. The Phantom carrying the Hunters swooped by and Xika went over and waved at them. Hunters fell from the sky and landed gently on the platform. He rushed six of them to go into the room while the two remaining were to watch the rear entrance, where they were ordered to stop and, if necessary, kill whatever came their way.
The rest of the Hunters were strategically placed except for the two that watched the front entrance. Xika knew that the Demon would enter from there, and he needed it to think that the room was well defended for good reason, so that it would let its guard down for a moment. Then, for just an instant, he saw what was inside the cells…Humans. How foolish of me, he thought.
Then he heard the sound of the weak Human technology for opening locked doors, and he knew it was not the Demon. It had some other mechanism for opening such doors, and if necessary could easily break them down. No, these were more Humans, and they would only further benefit his plan.
-----------------------
Benson tried to open the locks, but the command code was set, and he had no bypass. But sound of doors opening made them battle ready, which confused both marines instantly. They peeked into the room, but no enemy was present. When Benson heard choking he looked to his partner, only to see crimson flowing from his eyes and an energy sword in his neck. An Elite held it. Plasma fire scorched his hands and he dropped his weapon before he could do anything.
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Forcing the blade into the Human's abdomen, Xika watched the blood flow, and felt the pleasure of another kill. Yet the cells were full, and he thirsted for more. For now, the Humans would do. Their screams brought forth an evil grin. He would need them all in such a way that the Demon would hesitate, and then he would strike. But that was no reason to not be amused by his duty, if he could be.
He assigned all his team to their new stations and pulled his energy sword out once again. There had to be a scene, and he would make it glorious.
-----------------------
Standing right to the sliding doors, he could hear the Hunters moving. They fired from long range, and he knew that his target had arrived. The holding cell was perfectly set, so long as the last of the Humans didn't die suddenly. The four Hunters inside the room were hidden well, and they were standing by. The firing stopped and the crackling of their armor against walls reverberated through the entire room. Gunshots were heard and an explosion as well, and soon there was silence.
Clicking his radio transmitter, Xika sent his signal to all those in the room. He thought that the four Hunters should be enough in this trap, although he had a second and third wave if necessary.
Then the doors opened. Xika knelt down as far as possible and the Demon scanned the room, but didn't appear to see him. He walked in. When the doors closed behind him one of the Grunts activated the doors lock and it clicked. The Demon turned around suddenly; it must have heard it. The opportunity to attack it while it hesitated passed, and Xika could have killed himself, but he was sure his plan would not fail, regardless.
The Demon walked farther into the room and saw one of the Humans still moving slightly. It ran to the Human and knelt down, dropping its weapon. Xika waited for a few seconds more, waiting for the Human to speak, and make the Demon unprepared.
"It's…a…tr―" Xika sent the signal and all four Hunters jumped from their hiding places and fired their cannons. The Demon, however, must have seen it coming, for it leapt out of the way and the four shots hit each Hunter across from the burst. Though none were killed, they were all stunned and hurt, and left open for the Demon to finish off quickly. Xika could not allow that to happen…yet.
He sent a signal to another Grunt, who opened the exit doors, where two more Hunters entered the room and opened fire. They both missed and the Demon shot one damaged Hunter in the back several times, and it died. It through several grenades into the room, killing two more damaged Hunters. The three remaining stood side by side to each other and tried to corner the Demon, and were doing so magnificently. They closed the gap and charged their weapons, but just before they fired it jumped and pushed itself off of the wall it was cornered in, throwing itself behind the three Hunters.
But they had already begun firing and the middle Hunter could not turn around, for it would hit one of the others if it did, and the Demon shot it in the back several times before the others could act. It fell dead and the others ran after it, swinging at it with their massive shields, but missing consistently. Then one swung and missed and the Demon tried to shoot its stomach, but the other Hunter pushed the Demon with much force, breaking its shields and throwing it to the ground. Only then did the two Hunters realize that he placed two grenades on the floor, one of which he fired at. They detonated and the two Hunters were killed instantly.
Xika sent his final signal out, which brought forth the three Grunts. They were not heavily armed but their armor was stronger than normal, and was made to take punishment. They all fired their plasma pistols, all of which were fully charged, making three lobs of plasma streak towards the Demon. Two hit, one of which took down its shields and the other hit its leg, but did little damage. The Demon retaliated by shooting two in the head and running at the third as fast as it could, then smashed its face. It was now time to finish his duty.
The Demon stood still, looking at the holding cell, and Xika crept behind it. He went slowly, so it would not notice him, but the Demon started to look about the room. It looked directly at Xika, who stopped completely, and started to walk towards him. Xika knew he was spotted and fired his carbine at the shieldless Demon, but it moved so quickly that each shot hit the wrong portion or armor. Doing all he could, Xika could not hit the Demon's head, its weak point when it had no shields, but he continued firing as the Demon moved immensely fast.
It managed to find cover and Xika disengaged his camouflage and reloaded his carbine. As he did so, the Demon fired at him taking down his own shields. But Xika was too close already, and he took hold of his sword and activated it, swinging at the Demon. The Demon, however, was too fast, and grabbed Xika's sword arm and ran it into a wall, which made the sword fly into the air. Xika instinctively turned and kicked the Demon, which careened it across the room, and Xika took his plasma rifle and started firing, but stopped suddenly.
He could not fire anymore, but couldn't understand why. Then he hit the floor, and hard. He looked down his body and saw a shoulder and upper torso beside him, with no body connected, and saw himself. It was his, and the sword lay on the ground, completely spent. Shock took over his body and Xika forced himself to rise, but had no strength to do so. Then everything started to go dark, and he lost his focus and consciousness until there was nothing left. Nothing but the darkness.
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