AThe Greatest Journey
A lonely Phantom drop ship swam through the snow filled sky frost clinging to it's hull as it approached the drop zone, it's weapons at the ready to repel the parasite as it approached rapidly, reinforcements that the Arbiter had requested at the ready. Rtas 'Vadumee, the special operations commander looked over his unit, each soldier readying plasma rifles, carbines, needlers, or in a singular case, a human shotgun. 'Vadumee look upon the blue green armored Sangheili with what would appear to be a board glare.
The warrior in question, Quen 'Atuggee, had been retrieved from just outside the walls of the quarantine zone where his Wraith had been assaulted by the parasite. Rtas had his eyes fixed upon Quen and watched him as the Phantom descended, watched as he emptied his plasma pistol into his infected brethren, as he ripped the human weapon from on of the infected hands and turn the weapon on the previous owner. It had been something else retrieving the engineer, but it filled 'Vadumee's heart with pride that at least one of his brothers might see the day to its end when the sun would welcome a new day.
Quen was in fact wondering how he was going to make it through that day, the human weapon weighing heavily in his hands, the fact that it was in his hands meant that it had already failed a previous owner, and even though they were human, 'Atuggee did not think his chance of survival would be much higher than the others standing around him. The thought settled like a rock in his stomach, the fact he would never level the cursed ring. The Prophets could have their Great Journey so long as Quen could breathe. Quen rocked in his harness slightly as the phantom began to descend towards the drop site, the others clutched their weapons and held a collective breath as the lift opened.
Two of the Sangheili dropped nimbly through the lift, each boarding a Ghost, keying up the systems as the Phantom released them. The Ghost quickly secured the area as the rest of the group as released along with their Spectre. Rtas watched the last of his squad descend before turning to Quen. "Good luck brother, your ancestors watch over your path."
Quen sucked in a quick breath, but his response came still. "Take your luck brother, you will need it." he considered Rtas position before adding. "Guard yourself carefully." Rtas blinked once and then he was gone, descending through the lift as the Phantoms engines grew louder. The pull of gravity grew slightly as the Phantom pulled away from the drop zone.
The pilots voice crackled to life over Quen's communication network. "We are falling back to the second line to retrieve more soldiers, be ready to disembark upon arrival." with a huff the pilot terminated the communication, leaving Quen to his brooding as he thought of his brothers, the way the parasite cut through them as if they were nothing. It was daunting really, the way the infection spread like a festering growth that not even the weapons gifted to them by their forefathers could stop. Quen considered the weapon in his hands once more, in his hands it was misshapen, a cold metal stick that weighed him down with its alien design, and yet it was his most precious possession for it had been the instrument that had saved his life.
He ran his middle digits down the length of the the weapon and he made up his mind about it, it would serve him well. Reaching down to his upper leg armor he freed a handful of spare shells from a compartment and brought them up to his eye level. Carefully selecting which end he thought was the front he began his search on how to replenish the weapons ammunition. After fumbling the shotgun about he finally managed to slip in a shell, unfortunately he feed it in backwards and began the meticulous task of removing the shell with much swearing. Pulling on the foul shell Quen exerted his strength, the shell came free with a mild pop as the Phantom swung under a loud collision. He blinked in confusion wondering how the tiny weapon had caused such a thing as his communicator burst to life one more as the pilot swore violently.
"Brace for impact Sangheili, one of the rings infernal machines has us within its grasp!" The Phantom bucked again, the hull groaning as pressure was applied to it. Quen fumbled the shell in the proper way as he approached the lift, pressing a hardlight key next to the lift it activated. Quen screwed his eyes shut and mentally asked his ancestors to forgive his stupidity. One hand on the lip of the ramp 'Atuggee dropped down and swung towards a grey arm that constricted the frozen metal, his hand outstretched it made contact with a groove in the metal, affording him a minor handhold on the machine that poured a multitude to red needles into the Phantom.
Shotgun clutched in one hand he began to pull himself up the arm of the machine until he reached the top, his eyes surveying the metal for a weak point. He made up his mind swiftly and brought the weapon up to a random point, squeezing the trigger he immediately regretted his decision as tiny pellets refracted in every direction, many pleting his shields and one even slipping through to clip one of his hooves. The machine shuddered beneath him and he just barely managed to avoid a wave of red fletches that passed overhead. Staying low he made his way to the front of the machine, looking for the weakest point.
Quen cursed aloud as he inspected the machine, its armor was uniform and unyielding, not a hole to be found. Time was working against him and the sound of metal groaning redoubled itself as the machine squeezed harder. Crossing over to the front Quen looked over the edge and found what he had been searching for, the eye of the machine. Bringing the shotgun up he pulled the trigger and with a burst of light and the sudden quiet of the machine Quen allowed himself a moment of laxity. His head started to spin suddenly as the world seemed to fall askew from its original setting, the fact that the machine had lost its hold on the Phantom didn't occur to him until he watched it ascend before him, the machine falling to the ground as the wind lifted Quen from the machine until he floated almost a hands length above it.
With a sudden jerk the Quen landed on the machine as the wind flow around it revered, his contact with its metal hide filling his ears with a ringing sensation. The machine rolled and with a violent shudder and twist sent Quen off its back and into a large snow drift. He picked himself up slowly, not trusting his feet to support him just yet. His vision clearing he felt around the snow drift until he made contact with something solid. Pulling the object from the snow he was relieved to find his shotgun which he had released when the machine had crashed. Catching his breath Quen stood and surveyed his surroundings.
His breath formed white clouds that matched the bleak landscape, large earthen walls rising on either side of his position, forming a valley that trapped him within its high walls. The dark stone gave off a half light, light that refracted where it touched the frost covered stone. Digging his hooves in deep Quen started off in the direction he assumed the "Library" would be. The snow stanched the bleeding on his left hoof and gradually his violet blood's color was lost in the white if the harsh winter. Quen soon slung the human weapon across his back where it rested in the magnetic field generated by his armor, opting instead to cradle his shoulders as he fought the cold. Time dragged on and Quen started to second guess his sense of direction. He shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind, he did not have time to doubt himself, the silence that surrounded him reminding him that the sound of combat would soon find him.
His walk was then cut short by the sound of something shattering, beneath him, gravity took hold and Quen found himself tumbling downward into some sort of tunnel. He landed hard on his rear, almost bouncing off the ground with the impact. He stood pondering what had happened until his eyes happened upon what appeared to be a human, but its body twisted into something else, the protruding generals and grey green skin. The parasite had claimed this one, corrupting its body into a tool that would be used against those who had yet to be corrupted.
Quen heaved a sigh, the creature impaled by a large shard of glass, the very same that had caused the break in the first place by the looks of it. He muttered under his breath about the vile creatures as he settled his gaze on the shattered ceiling above, just outside of his climbing and jumping abilities, but only just. It angered him that such a ignorant creature could have trapped him like this, even if it was only an accident.
Turning his attention to more urgent matters Quen studied the layout of the room which was filled to the brim with strange electronics that shaped the room into an elongated hallway, both sides capped with the strange triangular doors of the Forerunner. One door lay open, jammed by the body of a grunt that had the unfortunate luck of becoming stuck in the doors path after death, effectively jamming it with its lightly armored body. The other door dripped with blood, red blood, human blood Quen realized as he approached it. One within a unit of the door it opened and revealed a shattered window overlooking a pit that appeared bottomless through the thick mist that shrouded it, all around Quen bodies of fellow covenant soldiers and humans alike, all forced to one corner by the deformed and crazed parasite warriors that now littered the floor, their bodies broken first by lead shot and then plasma.
The sheer number of bodies surprised Quen as he looked to the parasites broken lines, counting the humans and elites which had been turned by whatever means the parasite deployed. Poking around Quen turned up a few more rounds for the shotgun before he carried on, the door at the opposite end of the room yawned open as he stepped through. More bodies surrounded him and he picked up his pace as he moved down yet another hallway, quickly picking his way through multiple rooms filled with the dead, the corpses growing steadily in number as he approached the place where the first wave of soldiers was said to have set down. Soon only bodies broken past recognition lay still the number of dead parasites dropping as human and covenant bodies became nonexistent.
Another door opened and Quen stumbled slightly as his eyes found a sight most unpleasant. The corpses of the flood were stacked high, multitudes of them strewn across the ground, and at their center, resting upon a fallen pillar lay a wounded marine who gasped for breath. The human struggled to raise his head as the door hissed shut. His eyes widened and he reached weakly for the magnum that lay just beyond his reach. Quen lowered his shotgun and raised his hands after he let the weapon fall to the floor, showing the human that he would not harm him.
The human eyed Quen as he stepped around the broken bodies of the infected and picked up the magnum. Without warning the human attempted a lung and succeeded only in sitting up, one hand across his mouth as he coughed the other held his side as blood leaked from beneath both wounds. Quen held out his hand, the magnums grip faced towards the human who eyed him cautiously while reaching for the weapon. Taking hold of it he tugged firmly on it and Quen released the weapon as he backed away. The human never let his gaze fall from his as he checked the weapon with his hands, the human after some time felt satisfied and let his gaze fall to the weapon as he ejected a spent clip and loaded a fresh one.
"Why not kill me split chin." The human said, his tone setting Quen on edge as he hefted the shotgun. readying it for use in case the parasite decided to show its ugly face, or fire upon the human in case he chose to fire on Quen himself.
"Because human," Quen said as he searched the room for more ammunition. "I believe your company would be prefered to that of the parasite."
The alien let out a cough that slowly grew into a cough, blood staining his hand once more before he spoke again. "And what makes you think I want your company split chin?"
Quen chuckled quietly, his eyes shifting off the human as he moved towards the far end of the room. His hoof shifted the bodies one by one as Quen searched for any other survivors, but his search yielded none among the heavily mangled corpses pockmarked by bullet holes and rended to pieces by claw marks leaving them lying in pools of intimate crimson in the soft light of the installation. The greenish mucus of those that changed splattered the walls, tinged red with the old blood of their human host which now lay sprawled across the floor and against the walls where a combination of SMGs, Battle Rifles and Shotguns sent them back the abyss of which they came from. Quen did his best impression of a human smile as he kicked one of the fallen parasites to the side, moving towards the door which was outlined with a faint red glow. Approaching it Quen reached for the hard light control panel and pressed the icon to release the door from its sleep. With a quiet hiss it opened, revealing a gore painted hull where a multitude of grenades and other explosives which had painted the walls with the parasites blood. He chuckled, leaving the Human behind as his curiosity got the best of him. Walking through the puddled gore Quen huffed, clearing his nostrils and sniffing the air.
Nothing, they were all dead. Quen let a small sigh of relief fly, it just meant he would have less to worry about as he moved on. The hallway was short, the trap effective, the door on the other side opening into a covered terrace that looked out over a larger valley upon which sporadic gunfire lite the dark sky. Quen chuffed with amusement as a limping parasite turned to him, its face a mockery of the Brute it once was. Quen gave a Sangheili's best impression of a Human smile and brought his weapon to bare. With an awkward stroke of his elongated finger the gun spat fire and lead. The Brute painted the floor red and green, Quen issued another chuff like chuckle that seemed omnipresent within his species. "And here I was thinking Brutes could get not get any uglier."
He stepped around the minced remains of the Brute and eyed it distastefully. "As if the live ones were not bad enough…" With a quite huff he pondered how the parasite seemed to make the already unbearable stench of a Brute worse. This thought left behind with the corpse, Quen stepped into the snow, grimacing as the ice crystals crunched beneath his hooves and the cold once more invaded his armor with renewed vigour. Why the Forerunner had built this place in frozen hell hole, while ever so necessary, still irked at Quen's distinct dislike for the cold. He shouldered his discomfort and Continued on as he kept on guard for more parasites.
He found them, only halfway through the valley and they came, an entire wave of them surged forwards. The screamed and gurgled as they chased something straight towards his position. He pulled back on the shotguns pump and listened as it clicked another round into place which left him with ten, not counting the round in the chamber. There were seven Parasites. He could not help himself, his mandibles opened and he issued a roar that echoed across the frozen tundra. His hooves found purchase and he charged, right for the heart of the infection. His weapon touched the chest of the nearest beast. In an increasingly enjoyable blast Quen sprayed the parasite's insides across its brethren's outsides, which gained him their full undivided attention.
Two lept for him, and he placed a shot calmly within each, his demeanor almost depressed by the ease in which he saw these creatures fall. The next one nearly took him off guard as they collided, a tangle of arms and legs as the parasite attempted to physically rip him limb from limb. Quen cursed in his native language, the cold metal of the gun now the only thing keeping the foul creature off him as it's body convulsed with anticipation. Quen gave the creature a shove but it refused to release him as it battered his shields. He shoved once more and watch in mild surprise as the things head burst apart, the sound of carbine comparable to the sweet voices of the Forerunners themselves. Quen through the corpse aside and finished it with a single blast from his weapon. Again a parasite charged him, but Quen stood fast, his hoof lashing out against its chest, causing the tiny form within it to burst like a balloon, its own green ooze catching Quen across the face as it popped.
He grimaced but did not waste time by wiping it away, instead turning to the last standing parasite he pulled the trigger thrice, sending what was left of it into the freezing air around it as the creature came apart like wet tissue paper. With four more kills to his name and the other three down, Quen turned to find a lone Kig-yar sniper, a spent carbine held in its trembling hands as it looked to the blood speckled Quen who stood before it, the very embodiment of the Sangheili juggernaut that proudly led the Covenant into battle. Once again Quen mimicked a Human smile as the Kig-yar replaced the its spent cartridge. "Your presence is welcome. Where is your squad?"
The Kig-yar cocked its head and in its own, higher pitched voice gave its brief story. "Dead, slain by the parasite." It pointed to the cliff where the gunfire rose up once more. "The foul entity trapped the rest there." Quen nodded, his eyes roving the frozen field until they paused on something out of place. His mandibles widening he gazed upon an upturned human vehicle.
"What are we waiting for?" He said, his strange chuckle sounding as he approached a Warthog. "lets assist them."
And thats a rap on this first chapter of something I have been itching to work on since I had the idea sometime last fall. Hope you guys and girls enjoyed, make sure to leave a review if you want to see more.