Author Note: I do not own Halo or the books.
Chapter One: Trying Times
13 CYCLES, 10 UNITS (COVENANT BATTLE CALENDAR) / IN CONTROL ROOM OF INSTALLATION 05
Hadratkus, eldest son of Tartarus, quickly fired off four grenades at a Sangheili Zealot. The first three high-velocity grenades downed its shields, and the last one impacted a plasma grenade on its belt, incinerating it, and sending four minors standing next to him flying off the bridge. He then lashed out with the fixed blade at a golden-armored Sangheili foolish enough to come near him. It roared in pain and surprise as the blade cut through its shields. He stepped back to recover… and fell off the bridge to his doom.
Hadratkus roared out, as he reloaded his brute shot, "By the honor of the Jiralhanae, the Great Journey shall not be stopped by you, heretics!"
The one called Arbiter primed and threw a plasma grenade at him, before retorting, "What honor?"
The grenade landed near Hadratkus, who opted to jump to the center station of the control room. The other five guards were not as lucky, and were engulfed in the blast.
As Tartarus swung the massive Fist of Rukt, smashing through the bodies of five Sangheili, his son fired off four grenades at the Arbiter, who was running towards him with an outdrawn energy sword.
Two of the grenades found their target, but miraculously, the Arbiter's shields held. He leaped over the third and fourth grenades, and slashed savagely at Hadratkus.
Hadratkus let loose a loud roar of pain, as he felt the flesh of his left shoulder part under the sword's vile fire.
He fell unconscious. His last thoughts were, father, do not let these heretics stop the Great Journey.
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Tartarus bellowed in rage as he saw the Arbiter strike his son down. As the Arbiter turned towards him, he raised the massive warhammer in a gesture of defiance.
"You will pay for that, heretic! You and your kind shall weep tears of blood before I am done with you!" Tartarus shouted.
Suddenly, three purple beams struck him, downing his mystic barrier. Tartarus looked in shock at the dark-skinned human who had fired the shots.
He shouted, "Yeah, go get mohawk head, Arbiter!"
Tartarus growled, "Barrier or no barrier, you shall fall!" He swung his hammer at the Arbiter, missing by a matter of inches.
The Arbiter cursed as the hammer nearly hit him, and the energy wash drained his shields. He lunged forward with his energy sword drawn. The sword buried itself in Tartarus's upper body, causing black blood to spray from it. Tartarus gaped at him in shock, as he realized that his arms were now useless.
Quickly, the Arbiter primed a plasma grenade and forced it in his mouth, before jumping away, the sword still buried in the chest. He ran, leaving Tartarus to his fate.
May the Gods forgive me for my failure. The heretic had won this battle, but the Great Journey shall prevail.
The grenade exploded, as Tartarus's head disappeared in a blinding, blue flash.
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Rtas 'Vadumee watched as the Sangheili minor carefully piloted the phantom near the Covenant cruiser, the Binding Truth. Something didn't quite smell right about this… no matter. Yet, even as he dispelled the feeling, a new feeling of dread sprang up within him. For some reason, no craft had moved out to intercept him, no communications, either. They were able to fly to the cruiser unopposed.
The SpecOps Commander turned to his command, the best the Covenant had to offer. Nay, not the Covenant. The filthy backstabbers, not fit to find their end on the cleansing fire of the energy swords of the Sangheili. The leaders somewhere on the Sacred Ring would decide on a new name. He hoped so, for what are they, if they don't have a name?
His group consisted of ten Unggoy and Six Sangheili.
"Who shall pay for their treachery?" 'Vadumee roared.
"The Covenant!"
"What shall we fight for?"
"Honor! Justice!"
"And…"
"Vengeance for our fallen brothers!"
"Correct! Now, this cruiser, the Binding Truth, is our objective! The Kig-yar, Yanme, and Jiralhanae, may they be damned, control this ship! But on the blood of our fathers, our sons, our forefathers, we shall take it!"
The battle group roared in affirmation as the Phantom landed in the docking bay of the Binding Truth. There were many Phantoms in it, along with a few human dropships. Apparently, the filthy apes weren't that picky. A strange odor emanated from them, which 'Vadumee associated with the Jiralhanae.
Rtas felt another pang of unease. Something didn't quite seem right… again. If there was one thing he had learned during the holy war, it was to trust the gut.
The commander shrugged the feeling off, and disembarked the Phantom, as his forces followed.
An Unggoy chuckled nervously, and squeaked, "Me have bad, bad feeling 'bout dis, commanda."
'Vadumee replied, "Why, congratulations. You have just volunteered for guard duty, Jekej." He turned to his elite forces, and pointed to four other Unggoy and two Sangheili, and ordered, "You seven are in charge of the Phantom. Do not allow these hairy apes near it. The rest of you, activate you stealth units and follow me."
The other Phantoms in the bay could be used if their original one was destroyed… but he preferred his own. Like he would bear being in a craft once piloted by thee Jiralhanae. He would have to take a long bath after this, or the stench might stay on him.
The other six assigned to guard duty walked towards the Phantom, the Unggoy happily, and the Sangheili… not as enthusiastic. 'Vadumme and his now camouflaged force turned to the bay doors and hurried through them. The battle for the Binding Truth had begun.
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"Construct, bend to my will. Now answer me: Where is your land? It shall play a part in my plan." Gravemind rumbled, its tendrils snaking around Cortana's hologram.
"Why should I?" Cortana asked.
"For the salvation of my children. We need sustenance. And you shall provide it. I will see the galaxy, the universe shatter before I allow my children to die." Gravemind replied, anger coursing through its voice.
"Go to hell." She replied, before her Gravemind activated an energy spike. It effectively disrupted her primary functions, causing an impulse, like pain to beings of flesh and blood.
"Do you not get it? I AM hell." Gravemind chuckled. "Do not force me to break you."
Cortana realized that another shock like that could potentially destroy her, so she did the only feasible thing: shutting down.
"Ah… a waste of time. No matter. I have much to do. But nothing can be hidden from I. Rest all you like, dear, but you SHALL wake." Gravemind droned on.
An hour later, Cortana did get reactivated. What she saw shocked her. Many dropships, human or Covenant, were being boarded by Flood forms, and being flown into the sky.
"Beautiful, isn't it? Soon my children shall reign over the universe, as per their birthright. I shall be at their head, for they and I control the same mind." Gravemind boomed.
The Flood and Gravemind had the same mind? Cortana hoped so, for her 'life' depended on it. She noticed the tendrils snaking around her memory processor core. If it touched the core, she MIGHT be able to use its electrical impulses to go to the brain, then to a computer in a dropship connected to a brain form.
However, upon reviewing the option, Cortana realized the futility of the plan. The computers of a mere dropship would be too small to contain an AI of her size, and also, if Gravemind detected the impulse, it could easily shut her down. Permanently. That left only one option. She took it.
Fast as lightning, Cortana initiated the Covenan AI duplication program that she… withheld from ONI. It copied her basic functions, sent it through Gravemind, and dropped it onto a brain form aboard one of the many dropships. Its mission: to find Miranda Keyes.
Gravemind felt a slight spasm go through its body. It quickly passed. It turned its attention to more pressing matters, such as the defiant AI.
"And now, as for Earth…" It rambled, turning its attention to Cortana.
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"I see. You mind telling me what you are doing on that ship?" Lord Hood asked.
"Sir. Finishing this fight." John, more known as the Master Chief, replied, before ending the COM-link. He looked down, and saw that a Flood Combat Form's arm that had grabbed him prior to his boarding had also come with him. But more importantly, he saw the M7 submachine gun.
John bent down, picked the M7 up, and walked down the hallway. Now, things were getting interesting. He had a single gun, as opposed to hundreds of Brutes toting grenade launchers. He reached a door, and paused, to check his motion detector, which indicated at least three hostiles beyond it. He banged his fist on the wall, and wait for them to rise to the bait.
The first target, a Jackal sniper, ran past him, oblivious to the shadow behind him. John waited until the door closed, then rushed forward, and struck the Jackal with the M7, breaking its spine. He grabbed the beam rifle it carried, picked up the body, and dragged it near the door. He made sure the rifle was ready to fire, and flung the body at the door.
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"Where do you suppose that idiot birdbrain had gone?" Ertakus asked, fondling his carbine.
"Knowing him, probably hiding, hoping the ghost won't get him." His friend, Orathus, replied, chuckling.
Suddenly, the door opened, and the dead body of a Jackal landed on Orathus. Ertakus cursed, and ran out of the door. For his troubles, his head exploded. And none other than the Demon walked through the door, his beam rifle pointed at him. Orathus felt fear engulf his body, but still managed to raise his plasma rifle, and fired.
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"Damn!" John muttered, as the red plasma bolts flew at him. He leaped to the side, firing the beam rifle.
The purple beam went through the brute's knee, causing him to roar in pain. However, he was still able to get to a terminal, patching a COM-link to the bridge.
"The Demon is here! He-" The brute slumped forward, dead.
John raised the still smoking beam rifle, and shot the terminal, twice.
"Transmission terminated. Cortana, I need-" He began, before realizing that the AI was gone. He was alone. Damn. John was going to have to get to the bridge without her help.
John discarded the nearly empty beam rifle for the carbine, and took half a dozen plasma grenades from the bodies. He had to move fast. The Covenant knew he was here, and would undoubtedly send troops.
He ran towards the door on the other side, paused, and ran back. Could it be… yes! The crate contained two other carbines and two brute made plasma rifles. He grabbed the carbine ammunition, and swapped the M7 for the red plasma rifles. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have done so… but half a clip of rounds weren't going to be much help.
Before he could continue, Lord Hood's voice crackled in his COM. "Master Chief. A Pelican has been dispatched to pick you up. ETA is approximately thirty minutes."
"Negative sir. The Prophet of Truth is here. I'm hunting him down."
There was a long silence. Then Hood answered. "All right, Master Chief. I trust your judgement. Mission request accepted. Hood out."
The COM-link ended. John hoisted his carbine. However, a thought nagged at him. Why did that last brute not rage? Why did it send a message instead of attacking him?
The answer came quickly. There was a third brute, who was hiding in the shadows. It gave a loud, throaty roar, and charged towards him. John turned to its source, and opened fire with the carbine.
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Hadratkus awoke. The first thing he noticed was that it was completely white. Then ext thing was that he was without armor. He instinctively looked at his left shoulder. The white stripe, signifying that he was the one to rule the Alpha tribe of Jiralhanae, was gone! That accursed Sangheili had burned it off with his blade! However, he had one question to ask.
"Is this the Great Beyond?" He wondered aloud.
"No, Hadratkus. This is the waiting cell. You are on our homeland, Savanrai." An ethereal voice boomed.
Hadratkus recognized the voice as Shivastus's, the chieftain of the Beta Jiralhanae tribe.
"Son of Tartarus, you have two choices, the trial of the warrior… or the trial of the exile." Another voice cut in.
That was Thothatus, chieftain of the Gamma tribe.
Hadratkus pondered his choices. The trial of the warrior meant a trial. If found guilty of the crimes charged, he would be executed swiftly, mercilessly. At least his family would retain a shred of the honor he had helped win. The trial of the exile was an easier choice. He would be allowed to run from his crimes, but he could never, ever see another one of his kind, under fear of a slow and painful death by fire. And his family would be shamed, the mark on his bloodline, forever. For a moment, he was reminded of the disgraced Shipmaster who had allowed the destruction of the first sacred ring, now the Arbiter.
Still, there was something he must know. He asked, "What are the charges facing me, mighty ones?"
"The loss of the Fist of Rukt, the inability to defend your father, and allowing the impeding of the Great Journey." Thothatus answered. "If charged with two or more, then your doom is clear."
Hadratkus bristled. To infer, nay, to even dare think that he would have done these heinous crimes was an insult beyond measure.
He decided. "The trial of the warrior!" He shouted.
"Very well." Shivastus replied. "In twenty-four cycles, you shall be tried. Until then, I suggest you get your rest."
The lights faded, and then went out altogether. Hadratkus had no choice to do as ordered, offering a simple prayer; one he had learned when he was just a mere whelp, when the crusade against the humans had not yet started. His father had taught him that.
Author Note: So... my attempt at a Halo fic. Like it? Hate it? Review, but no flames. Constructive only. And yes, I know I'm not some super-science-whiz man, as you may have gleaned from my writing.