Disclaimer: I own nothing.

After my last Halo fic, a friend of mine said I should do a series of one-shots. I actually let him talk me into this, an amazing feat, since usually, 99 of what he says should be ignored at all costs. For those waiting for the next chapter of IWGH2, don't worry, it'll be up once my laptop is upgraded. Right now, until my dad upgrades it, I can't access the info, so I haven't given up on it, don't worry. This though, will be my: 'whenever I have spare time on another computer, or can't think of anything better to do' type thing. But don't worry, when I write, unless it's a humour fic, I always take it seriously.


Title: The End is Nigh

Genre: General

Rating: PG-13

Summery: A novelisation of the end of Halo 2. Slight changes from the game though.


The Elite dropped the empty Brute Shot and scooped up the Human shotgun that the ape creature had dropped. In the Human/Covenant war, the shotgun was the one advantage the Humans had in the field, a weapon which had the power to blow through any shields, be it Jackal, Elite, possibly even the Demon's…

A quick pump of the ballistic weapon, and a check that he still had his energy blade, the Arbiter moved down the corridor, the way to the control room. He didn't know what he would find, for the most part, but he knew for certain that Tartarus would be there. The Sangheili rested the gun on his shoulder as he walked, alert. Too many times had he almost been killed because he had lowered his guard. The same could be said for his father, and his grandfather. They say luck ran in the family, but obviously it had run out for him, otherwise he wouldn't even be in this position, the Elites would still be the honourable defenders of the Hierarchs, heck, Humanity would already be destroyed… but he didn't regret the past, he had learnt the truth about the alleged 'Holy Rings,' something he still hadn't believed until he heard the human, the one they called Johnson. The Arbiter wasn't skilled when it came to reading voices, but he had heard the Human's ever so slight fear and desperation, covered by a mask of arrogance and cockiness.

He shifted the shotgun, hearing voices.

"Come Human, it is easy. Take the Icon in your hands… and do as you are told!"

Tartarus, and he had a Human with him. From the sound of struggling, it was probably the female that had taken the Icon from the Library. Keyes.

"Please! Use caution! This Reclaimer is delicate!"

The Oracle was here? The Arbiter rolled his eyes. Of course it was here, it could tell the Brutes just what they had to do. Excepting Tartarus, they were too dumb to figure out how to pilot even as simple a vehicle as a Ghost without being told how.

"One more word, Oracle, and I'll rip your eye from its socket!"

But even Tartarus wasn't immune to the Brute temper problems. The sound of the Human grunting shortly followed.

"Which is nothing compared to what I will do to you."

That tone of voice... Tartarus intended to do to Keyes what he had done to him. The Arbiter felt angry with the Brute Chieftain, but sympathetic for the Human, who wouldn't survive. He hadn't survived, mentally. It had only been recently that he'd felt the will to actually live again. The Human… He didn't want to think about it. Refused to. Calming himself, the Elite of the Elites stepped out.

"Tartarus. Stop!" He called out, his reddish eyes narrowed.

"Impossible!"

The albino Brute was visibly shocked when he heard the calm voice. The Arbiter looked at the female. She looked far younger than any other Human he had seen in his life. She didn't look like she belonged in the battlefield, but her eyes held a fierce determination, and he immediately respected her for that. Anyone who could still have that look, even after Tartarus was the one threatening you, earned his respect right then. Not even he'd remained like that when Tartarus had threatened him.

"Put down the Icon."

Pretend he could care less about the Human; that would be his trump card. Tartarus had no way of knowing that he'd allied himself with the humans. The Scarab had all of the Marines he rescued; the rest of his kind that could come, were coming. If need be, the combined might of the Elites, Grunts, Hunters and Humans were more than enough to take on the Brutes.

"Put it down? And disobey the Hierarchs?"

Arbiter silently took back his earlier thought. Tartarus was dumb, but determined. Even with the risk of his life, the Brute still refused to deviate from the words the Prophets.

"There are things about Halo even the Hierarchs do not understand."

He would rather not fight. The Brutes, despite their IQs, were powerful, and casualties would be high. He had witnessed a berserked Brute take down a pair of Hunters in melee combat.

"Take care Arbiter. What you say is heresy."

Of cause, he refused to even acknowledge the thought that the Prophets were wrong. He had one last ace to try and end this without blood. Revenge was unimportant, unlike earlier, when he had first discovered the Brute's treachery. Life was balancing on a fine wire, and he was about to try and prevent it from loosing that balance, with or without bloodshed.

"Is it? Oracle, what is Halo's purpose?"

He wasn't only asking it for the Chieftain's purpose, but it would also be the final proof he needed to confirm what he was still unsure about.

"Collectively, the seven…"

The answer was cut off as Tartarus snatched the AI from the Brute that was holding it and snarled at the lens.

"Not-another-word…"

"Please… Don't shake the light-bulb."

Arbiter turned slightly, and witnessed Johnson walk right beside him, aiming a beam rifle at the albino Brute, most of the remainder of the Marines behind him, all aiming at the group of Brutes. Just arriving behind them, an even larger group of Sangheili arrived. The four Brute accompanying Tartarus snarled and started forward. Johnson lifted his weapon up, so it aimed at a more vital part of the albino.

"If you want to keep brains in your head, I'd tell those boys to chill."

To the Arbiter's surprise, after a slight hesitation, the Brute muttered something in the Brute native tongue, and the guards backed up slightly.

"That was assuming Brutes even have a brain…" Arbiter muttered to the Marine, who smirked.

"Go on. Do your thing."

There was understanding in the Human's voice. Did he know…? Heedless, the Elite nodded.

"The 'Sacred Rings', what are they?"

He almost didn't want to hear the answer.

"Weapons of last resort built by the Forerunners to eliminate potential Flood hosts, thereby rendering the parasite harmless."

There was the proof, the parasite leader, the Demon, the Humans, they were telling the truth. The Prophets either didn't know, or they didn't care.

"And those who made the rings? What happened to the Forerunners?"

Another question, one that he already knew the answer of but wanted the evidence, the conclusive proof.

"After exhausting every other strategic option, my creators activated the rings. They and all additional sentient life in three radii of the galactic centre died... as planned… Would you like to see the relevant data?"

Was that sorrow in the AI's voice? It sounded as though it regretted the choice the Forerunners made. Arbiter couldn't help but feel… Depressed. Despite their not being Gods, as the Prophets claimed, they were obviously an advanced race, one that wiped itself out because of the Flood.

"Tartarus, the Prophets have betrayed us…"

For a minute, Tartarus seemed convinced, but then he narrowed his eyes and threw the Oracle at Johnson, who went flying back. The Brute grabbed Keyes' hand, placed the Icon in it before pushing it down, where it had to be placed. The device slid down. The young Commander, now free of his grasp, dove to the side, onto a platform that was rotating around the room. Tartarus had obviously beserked, and was holding his 'sledge hammer' as Johnson put it.

"No Arbiter! The Great Journey has begun! And the Brutes, not the Elites, shall be the Prophets' escort."

The room started changing, preparing Halo to fire. Arbiter didn't hesitate, as he activated his energy sword, charging at one of the Brutes, skewering him with the weapon, before spinning around, slicing the blade through another's throat. The third Brute was kicked in the neck, making him fall off the edge of the platform. The last of the Brute soldiers beserked, and charged for him, but was promptly cut down by the Marines. Arbiter leapt off of the walkway onto the platform in the middle of the room. Right into another set of Brutes. The other Elites were close behind him, and helped him take out the bear-like aliens. A beserked Brute charged for the Arbiter, but the Elite shot him in the heart with the shotgun.

"Charging sequence initiated. Primary generators coming on line."

Soon enough all of the Brute soldiers were dead, but Tartarus stood some distance away, a shield covering him.

"Well shut them down!"

The Brute was analysing the Elites. He sneered at all but one. When he looked at the Arbiter, he showed fear. He was scared of the Arbiter.

"Apology. Protocol does not allow me to interfere with any aspect of the sequence."

The Elites charged, silently thanking the Marines who had perched themselves on the edges and were firing at the Brute whenever a clear shot was provided.

"Well… How do I stop it?"

Tartarus shrugged off any attack made, and smashed the skull of an Elite who tried to get close enough to use his sword. Another Elite tried to use a pair of Needlers, a weapon that could bypass most shields. The Brute swept out his weapon and smashed the Sangheili's ribs. He then threw another off the platform, gaining some small satisfaction when the Elite screamed. He stabbed out and crushed the chest of a silver Elite.

"Well... it will take some time to go over the proper procedures. I…"

The Arbiter charged forward and vaulted over the mace as it was swung at him.

"Quit Stalling!"

Tartarus brushed away the last of the Elites, giving him a chance to fully focus on the Arbiter. He spun the weapon around and smashed into the floor, leaving a large dent. Before he could lift it up, the Elite ran up the handle and aimed a kick at Tartarus' face. The Brute caught the foot easily and smirked in victory. That smirk vanished though, as a shotgun was fired in his face at point blank, not penetrating his shield, but the force pushing his head back regardless. The Elite kicked his other foot at the Brute, turning his move into a summersault.

"Under more controlled circumstances, I would suggest the Reclaimer simply remove the Index."

Now some distance between them, Arbiter had a chance to pump the next round into the gun. He checked his situation. All the other Elites were either dead or injured. Tartarus unharmed.

"That's it? Johnson! I'm on it!"

Arbiter ducked under Tartarus as the larger alien charged at him, throwing a grenade as he rolled away.

"Hang tight ma'am! Not until that Brute is dead."

Johnson fired his beam rifle at Tartarus, and the white mist vanished. Arbiter saw his chance and charged, firing the shotgun as he went. A few shots hit home, the Brute was bleeding in several places. The plasma grenade forced Tartarus to take a step back.

"Second generators charging. All systems performing well within operational parameters."

Tartarus swung the mace at him, making him jump back, to avoid the weapon, but the thing grazed against him, making him take a few steps to the side, into the field that was holding the Icon. The field started to lift the startled Elite upwards. Looking up, Arbiter had no doubt it would lift him too high to survive the fall.

"Power generation phase complete. The installation is ready to fire. Starting final countdown."

The Elite grabbed onto the first ledge that came, and the results made him do what looked like a very messed up flip, that made the Arbiter land, sprawled out on the floor. He rolled over, clutching his ribs. They must have broken when Tartarus managed to hit him. The words of his father came back to him.

'Honour is not a right; it is a privilege. Only show honour to those that earn it.'

And he had. Subconsciously, he had shown honour to the Humans, after they started to fight back. Any race, which defied such odds, despite primitive technology, and still managed to hold on to survival the way they had, deserved to be shown honour. It was something most of the Elites had forgotten, or ignored, because of the Prophets propaganda against the Humans. Tartarus had just lost that privilege. The ground shook. Arbiter looked up. Tartarus towered before him. The Brute lifted his hammer. Three successive shots from Johnson's beam rifle hit the creature in the back. The recharged shields prevented any damage, but collapsed after the third shot. The speed of the shots meant that the weapon had just overheated, but it left the Sangheili with the opening he needed.

"Kick his ass, Arbiter!"

The shout, supplied by Johnson, was accompanied by encouraging cheers from the marines. Ignoring the pain, he lifted the shotgun and fired it at point blank range upon the Brute's kneecap. Tartarus let out a strangled cry, his hammer smashing into the ground next to the Elite's head. He grabbed the Energy Blade and activated it. The lethal weapon was sliced through the handle of the Brute's weapon, turning it into a staff rather than a mace. Arbiter shakily pulled himself to his feet. Tartarus slashed his now a staff at Arbiter, growling. The agile Elite jumped, landed on the staff and aimed a spinning kick at the Brute's still unshielded face. The kick connected, sending Tartarus reeling back.

"Hey, Mohawk, eat this!"

Just as the shields came back, Johnson took them out again. Arbiter wasted no time to slash the plasma sword at the Chieftain, but cried out in pain as the staff connected with his wrist, snapping the bone. He dropped the weapon, which deactivated as it left his hand. The Brute was quick to kick it over the edge of the platform. He turned to look smugly at the Arbiter when the Elite stuffed the barrel of the shotgun in Tartarus' face. The Brute's eyes widened as the Arbiter's mandibles twitched in a smirk. Even if the shields were to reactivate, since the weapon would actually fire inside Tartarus' mouth, he would still die. He couldn't survive, not when the offending weapon was a shotgun. The Elite coldly fired the Human weapon. Blood and gore exited through the back of Tartarus' head, staining the ground.


Miranda had watched the fight, standing on a platform that was rotating around the room, the Monitor floating besides her. She had learnt how to prevent the activation of Halo, but it seemed a bit more willing to let her stop the activation then it had with the Chief. Still, she wasn't about to hex her luck. When she saw the strange Elite kill the albino Brute, she didn't waste time.

"Marines! Give those Elites medical attention!"

She jumped from the platform to another, ducking under an obstacle. She dropped down to the centre platform and yanked the Index from the field that was holding it. She held it tightly, intending not to lose it again when the room started to rumble. The Commander looked around for a cause, when a bright blue light flew up the anti-grav field. Though none of them could see it, the light had gotten steadily bigger, until it had reached the energy build-up, in the middle of the Ring World. When they touched, they turned into a blinding light, before vanishing. Keyes turned to where the Index had been, only moments ago. In its place, a hologram had appeared. She turned to the Monitor.

"What's that?"

The Monitor flew down besides her and examined the hologram. Johnson stood next to the Commander and looked at the object of her interest.

"A beacon."

Keyes shot the AI a look, which clearly indicated that the answer wasn't good enough.

"What's it doing?"

"Communicating at super-luminal speeds with a frequency of…"

"Communicating with what?"

"The other installations."

Miranda frowned for a second.

"Show me."

The hologram changed, to show seven Halos, moving into formation, but one of them had red writing marked next to it, indicating that that was the one the Master Chief had destroyed.

"Fail-safe protocol: In the event of an unexpected shutdown, the entire system will move to standby status. All remaining platforms are now waiting for remote detonation."

Keyes and Johnson both looked shocked at the news.

"Remote detonation? From here?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

Johnson glared at the Forerunner AI, and pointed at it, in a menacing manner.

"Listen Tinkerbell, don't make me…"

Before he could finish, Miranda put her hand on his shoulder, calming him. She turned to the Monitor.

"Then where? Where would someone go to activate the rings?"

The monitor looked at Keyes, than at Johnson, and back. When he replied, he sounded confused.

"Why, the Ark, of course!"

The Arbiter stepped behind the Commander and Sergeant. Both turned to look at him. Until they had access to better medical equipment, the marines had patched him up best they could, but he was still cradling his broken wrist, and keeping his arm away from his ribs.

"And where, Oracle, is that?"


John-117 was leaning against the wall, listening to the ship moving. He felt a shudder, and then the radio build into his helmet flared with activity.

"We've got a new contact. It doesn't match any known profiles."

A more familiar voice came up next.

"It's not one of ours. Take it out."

No better time to try and communicate with the UNSC.

"This is Spartan-117. Does anyone hear me? Over."


On the Cairo, Lord Hood turned to one of the technicians.

"Isolate that signal! Chief, you mind telling me what you're doing on that ship?"

The response was not one he was expecting, by any means.

"Sir. Finishing this fight."

End