Chapter 1
Warab walked slowly down the dimly lit corridor, shuttering in suspense. His red armor identified him as Grunt Major, but not for long. The Prophet of Truth was personally promoting him. To what he was being promoted to, he knew not.
Warab stopped a moment, thinkingwhy he was being offered an advancement; he had done nothing to deserve it. However, he would not question the Prophet's decision. He almost forgot about his appointment as he reminisced about his previous life, and what this life might be like. His thoughts were interrupted by another Unggoy's barking.
"Move it!"
He turned around. A pack of Grunts; some Major, some Minor, and some Ultra, stood in front of him. The one who spoke to him he assumed was the Unggoy in the front, an Ultra.
"Move!" the Grunt exclaimed. With that said, he pushed by Warab, driving him to the ground. He hit the floor hard.
Craaackkk.
Thats not good, he thought. As he tried to stand up, he learned which bone he broke. He sprawled on the floor as the Grunts moved by Warab, laughing and walking over him.
He tried getting up, but failed and fell to the unforgiving floor. Finally, Warab managed to squirm to the wall, then prop himself up. After cursing loudly at the Grunts ahead, he took off, first making sure he could walk.
He limped up the hallway to the Prophets' sanctum, hurrying to catch up with the other group of Grunts, and hoping he could teach them a lesson.
Unfortunately, his leg was starting to swell, so he rested on the corridor wall. He limped again, faster, and almost caught up with the group of Grunts.
Warab walked to the door and it opened, making a ping. He placed his attention to the Prophet floating in his chair, smiling broadly. The Prophet then softly spoke to the Grunts.
"You all have been selected to be Grunt Commandos," he spoke, "and you will be led by Commander Rtas 'Vadumee. You have been selected due to your bravery, tactical intelligence, and loyalty surpassing the ranks of a normal Unggoy."
A smile came to Warab's face. His performances on Reach and Halo had been rewarded.
"You will be escorted by three Phantoms by daybreak tomorrow, and will be briefed on board. You may now go to the Armory, and then return to your living quarters until needed again."
The Grunts rushed out the room, screaming, yelling and laughing in elation, but Warab walked slowly, limping and taking his time getting to the door, but also proud of himself.
He looked back at the Prophet, while on his way to the exit. The Prophet might have been suspiscious of Warab, if there wasn't a Jilralhanea in the room aswell. This ape had white hair, leathery skin, and held a hammer twice the size of Warab. He seemed to be the pack leader of the Brutes.
"Holy one, my race is ready for the slaughter," he spoke gruffly.
"Yes, Tartarus. Soon the incompetent Sanghelli will be vanquished, and the Jilralhanea will rise to power." Truth said in his calming voice, "but be patient, for the Sanghelli will not be defeated so easily."
"Understood, almighty Truth." Tartarus replied with a smile.
Warab's heart sank as he listened to the Prophet and Jilralhanea talk, for he would much rather fight amongst the heroic Elites, then the barbaric Brutes. As he hid behind one of the many podiums in the large room, he sulked in agony.
He snuck to the door, afraid that Truth would see him, and that the ape would smack him to bits with his hammer. He finally reached the door, but the ping it made caught the Prophet's ear.
Warab ran through the corridor, not even minding the swelling in his leg, or the fact that a Brute Honor Guard was following him through the purple ingress.
The Armory was filled with Grunts, Elites and Brutes fitting their armor and jeering at one another. The air was humid, the people were screaming, and it was all around chaos. Warab embraced this all, took a deep breath and walked to the armor hanging around the room.
Many people called it the Death Chamber, for Brutes and Elites always got into fights. Fit the description, for he already saw bickering among the two races. Then a few laughs came from beside him.
He tried to ignore it, but finally he glanced over at the noise. Some Grunts were still laughing about Warab's broken leg, and the Ultra Grunt from before was right in the middle of it.
Warab was about to go up to the group of Grunts and give them a piece of his mind, but a Brute punched an Elite to the ground in front of Warab and stopped him dead in his tracks. The Brute jumped on the Elite, but the Elite rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet as the Brute hit the floor hard.
The Elite got back up quickly and punched the Brute in the stomach just as he got up. The Brute fell to the ground, sprawling as another Brute went to the scene, clenching his fists. He was a Captain, Warab observed.
The Brute nailed the Elite in the stomach and barked, "Stand down, Wtar, you cannot hope to win!" Then, three Grunts came to the Elite's defense. They were afraid, Warab saw, and they were in no doubt out of their minds. They stood their ground, defending the Spec Ops Elite, Wtar, as he yelled in pain. Warab, seeing already three Grunts fighting, also came to the fight, clenching a Plasma Pistol he found on the ground.
"Wow, Wtar, you are so pathetic that you have to have Grunts fight for you; soon to be dead Grunts." Said the Captain as he got ready to charge at the small group of Grunts shielding Wtar.
Warab raised his Plasma Pistol, charged it, and then he fired at the berserk Brute as he charged, aiming for his skull. The Brute twisted onto the floor, unconscious. His helmet shattered into a million pieces and fell to the ground.
Wtar got up now and thanked Warab as he introduced himself.
"Name's Wtar 'Sulchee, Spec Ops Officer and apparent fight starter."
Warab laughed as Wtar got into a fighting stance. Two more Brutes came to the scene, and the Armory became a full out war. The first Brute threw a punch at Wtar, but he sidestepped and grabbed the ape's wrist, desperately trying to twist it and injure the Brute. Unfortunately, the Brute was faster and he kicked Wtar in the stomach. The Elite fell, injured but not unconscious. Warab fired with his Plasma Pistol, and it hit the leg of the Minor Brute. He screamed in pain, but it was short lived, as the Brute charged towards Warab.
This is it, now I've done it.
Fortunetly, a barrage of plasma fire seared the Brute's flesh. He screamed again, and looked around for the wielder of the gun. A crimson-armored Sanghelli leaned against the wall on the other side of the room.
"Looking for me?"
"Ah...Flor," the Brute said, "Noble and rash, but so weak."
Flor, insulted by the Brute's words, charged toward him. His shoulder armor hit the Jilralhanea in the head and the ape dropped to the floor, good as dead. The remaining Brutes scoffed at the Grunts and Elites but went back to their own business.
Now Flor joined the rest of the Sanghelli, calmingly taking his red armor off and putting his shimmering white armor on.
Wtar also got back on his feet to put on his white armor bearing black trimming , identifying him as a Special Operations Officer. Warab looked up to Wtar' with praise. Now there is a guy who has served us, he thought. He looked up at Wtar, as someone bumped into him. It was the Ultra Grunt.
"Not bad for a Major Grunt. My name's Yamay. Sorry about your leg, you might want to get it checked." he said. Warab let out a silent whimper when he was reminded of his leg, but he kept his attention on Yamay.
Yamay smiled at Warab, but his face filled with shock as a Brute Honor Guard put his pike to Warab's throat.
Another Brute Honor Guard arrived aswell, but with a Brute Shot. He fired his grenade-like projectile at the box in the middle of the room; the Zealot armor. The searing grenade blew a hole through the prized armor.
"I got news of rebellion in this armor room. We are prepared to change that," said the Guard hefting the Brute Shot.
"Also, the Prophet of Truth would like to see you, Warab." He smiled an ugly smile, as the Brute holding the pike against Warab's neck lowered his weapon.
Warab froze, shocked. I am dead, he thought as the Honor Guard pushed him with his pike into the long corridor. Warab walked behind the guard, because he feared the guard would try to kill him, and if so he wanted to be able to see and run.
Soon the long, quiet walk ended as the normal ping of the door revealed a large chamber in which Truth resided. This encounter was different though, all three Prophets floated in their chairs, waiting. Well, the Prophets of Mercy and Truth and the hologram of the Prophet of Regret.
The Honor Guard stopped at the door and stood beside it, holding his pike alongside him. Truth then hovered up to Warab, "We have a report that you have listened in on my conversation." He said with a hint of anger in his voice. "We also have reports about you firing at a Brute Capitan--"
"He was going to kill me!" Warab interrupted, enraged that the Brute he un-armored was kiss-up, but more surprised that the Brute had been able to report so fast.
Truth frowned. He was hoping to win this battle with words, but Warab showed him otherwise. "Very well, at least he wasn't killed," Truth, said with a sigh.
"But you still know valuable information that could wage a war!" the Prophet of Mercy cut in. "So on your next mission, we are sending a Brute to watch over you. And if you make a single inference to our plan, he will have your head!"
"Do not worry noble Prophets, I will not disappoint you." Warab said, hoping to not push his luck. Mercy gave Warab a nasty look of anger then turned to talk to the hologram of The Prophet of Regret.
Truth then looked to the Honor Guard at the door, who had crossed his hands and leaned on the wall, drowsy. Then the Prophet gave the "okay" signal to let Warab by, and the guard suddenly woke, grunting and moving his pike from the doorway. Warab calmly walked through the door, but the Brute gave Warab a little nudge.
Warab ignored this, knowing it was just an act of Brutes showing their superiority. He walked down the hallway for his third time, and the only time he wasn't scared to the death. This time also seemed shorter, considering it was fifty yards long. Perhaps his leg was healing, but he doubted it could make such a quick recovery. He stopped at the outlet as the door opened to reveal the Armory.
He stood in shock. He saw several dents in the wall: Brute Shot rounds. Also, plasma burned through the walls, leaving a black mark. This didn't even compare to what lay on the floor. A Brute lay on the ground with Honor Guard Armor and black blood surrounding him. Also, Two elite bodies lay on the ground, one wore red armor, and the other wore a dented white armor with olive trimming. Before he could make anything of the bodies, Yamay came up to him.
"It is Rtas 'Vadumee, Warab, our commander." Yamay said with his head down. He then lifted his head and said "Wtar is our new commander. Not that bad, but not as experienced. Anyway, you need to get your armor on."
Warab looked down at his chest, he was wearing his red armor. He quickly undid his armor, holding his breath because no methane was in the air. He quickly retrieved his white armor, put it on and reattached his methane breather.
"You better get some sleep, we leave at daybreak tomorrow." Yamay said as he lifts Rtas's body.
"See you in the morning," Warab answered. He walked off in a hunchbacked position, but turns around and asks, "Where are the quarters?" Yamay points to a nearby corridor and resumes to check Rtas 'Vadumee's vitals. Warab walks down the hallway, which is seemingly short.
He walks in to see eleven Grunts and five Elites fast asleep. Warab sees an open bed, and crawls onto it. He yawns and closes his eyes just in time to see Yamay walk in with Rtas on his shoulder, blood dripping from the body.