Soldier's Heart
B312
1532 Hours, September 3, 2552, Two Days after Wide Spread Planetary Glassing
Leo stood as still as if he had been sculpted out of a colorful type of stone. His gaze hidden behind the black visor was narrowed and directed at one direction in particular. His right fist tightened itself even more than it had been just moments earlier.
In the distance a plume of smoke rose several hundred feet into the red skies of Reach. If one were to follow the path from whence the smoke was coming from they would have come across a terrible sight; at least if that person was not a SPARTAN that is. For Spartan-B312 it was another slap in the face, another crystal clear example of where humanity had failed once again.
The small village he and the two girls under his protection had intended to come to for additional supplies was burning. It was not the burning caused by the Covenant warships plasma weaponry that much was obviously certain. If it had been then the entire area would have been glassed for miles and not the small area of the village.
In place that hellish vision of the invading alien onslaught was something, in the Spartan's mind at least, much worse.
His augmented vision easily picked up the small figures darting to and from the three and half dozen buildings. Occasionally he saw faint flashes of light, quickly followed by one or two bodies collapsing to the ground like rag dolls. Focusing more than he had been when first discovering this the Spartan soon heard the faint screams of villagers and the crack or gunfire.
Even in the face of genocide humans were still fighting one another, still killing, no butchering, each other. If doing so wouldn't have alerted his charges that something was amiss, Noble Six would have vigorously screamed to the winds how foolish they were. Only idiots would fight for the key to a home while said home burned around them. And burn the village did.
He felt a familiar tug pull at him, urging him to run down and save as many people as he could. That urge was promptly silenced by his SPARTAN discipline and logic. Leo took the situation before him in stoic silence as both Rozsa and Sara caught up to him. They were silent for a moment as their own eyes could clearly see the smoke rising. Perhaps they could even make out a faint glow of the fires.
"The aliens?" asked Sara in a low tone. Unconsciously the Reach brunette pulled the smaller child closer to her in a vain attempt to hide the scene from Rozsa's sight.
"No." was the simple and blunt answer. She glanced at him for a brief moment, a scowl on her face, before her eyes flinched as her mind seemed to follow the meaning of his statement. "We have always fought one another. . . People never forget what they come to know. Why change even in the face of annihilation, when death is so much easier?" Rozsa flinched at the cold tone that flowed from the Spartan's voice projector. Sara noticing the movement soon turned the child around before wrapping her arms around her.
"Nem lesz baj, ne félj. It'll be all right little one." she said reassuringly to the raven haired eight year old. The Reach native looked at him with a gaze that would make any sane man instantly apologize for any transgressions. Unfortunately for her, and even to him, Leo was no longer fully sure of his own sanity. He matched her glare with a near deathly silence and chilling reflection of her own face.
"Spartans do not hide from the truth, yet we merely never speak of lies." he said sagely with a wisdom that suited a soldier of over hundreds of battles. Sara for once visibly flinched away from the Spartan before glaring back at him.
"Then never mention a soldier's truth to a child. For one whose kind are said to be the best of humanity, you lack the compassion to hide the evils of life from Rozsa."
"No matter what you say, that is what I am." Leo said simply before turning his head to look in the direction of the village.
"I. . . I-I don't want to be lied to Sara. Anyu," the quiet voice of Rozsa seemed to choke back slightly, catching the attention of the two young adults. "My mother, said never tell lies. Mister Spartan can't tell lies, so that means he's good. And your good, and good people don't argue with good people. So please, just please stop."
The words of the Army Captain came back to him at that moment. It amazed Leo that such innocence could still find some small refuge in the heart of a child. Even as Reach burned around her, as she lost so much to the Covenant, Rozsa still held onto the beliefs that held no place in this time.
What shocked him of her short statement was that it made him suddenly remember the feeling he had felt earlier. The desire to help the villagers renewed itself many times over. The lieutenant found himself struggling internally not to go and do so. He reminded himself of the two girls near him, and of the danger they faced with him away from them.
Then he told himself that the village may still hold some decent weaponry, and if need be, the humans shooting at each other down there had weapons as well.
Unable to stop himself Leo felt his hand grasp the M6G magnetically attached to his right leg. The TACPAD had not detected any Covenant heat signatures in the area. The only threat to the safety of both Sara and Rozsa was obviously the men and women in the village. If Leo truly wanted to protect him then he would have to enter the village and stop the fighting. A grim smirk crossed his features still hidden by the black visor. The Spartan turned to look at the girls to his left, saw the trembling in Rozsa's form.
Every single fiber of his body screamed that it was the right thing to do in light of the situation. But leaving them for even a minute would have left them utterly defenseless until he returned. Just the kind of mental problems that always seemed to fall to the Spartans of Noble Team.
Leo detached the M6G from its resting place and then quickly brought it in front of the black visor. His gloved hands moved with machine like efficiency to ensure the weapon was fully functional. The Spartan promptly switched the safety on the weapon once he was satisfied, the clicking sound alerting the two he was protecting. Leo kept the M6G held in his right hand as he turned to look to the left.
"The village may have some weapons smuggled in by Reach Militia. As a soldier I cannot allow those weapons to be wasted during a battle in which they are desperately needed. As your guardian I will not allow anything that will certainly aid me in keeping you two safe to slip past me. Sara I need you to double back about a hundred meters, there are a cluster of rocks that will offer something to hide out until I return," the Spartan then turned to look at the child whose face bordered on shedding tears. "And I will come back. I won't abandon you until you are safely off Reach. You will live no matter what."
With that the Spartan looked in the direction of the village. Slipping into the combat mentality of the SPARTAN program, the lieutenant soon began sprinting towards his destination.
1204 (Human Time) Type-52 Troop Carrier
Voro watched the burning land pass by as his dropship flew over the now dying landscape. In his eyes he saw a lush world, once teeming with life, and its natural resources. He had seen the human ship yards on other planets before they were destroyed. This world however had the most numerous amount of such yards spread throughout the land, as well as the largest. That meant that this world was rich with ship building metals, metals which should have been used to build more ships for the Sangheili.
The Swordsman was a member of a small group of his people: The Council of Singular Defense. Voro and several dozen mid to high ranked Sangheili were a part of this group for one reason alone, something that was an extension of the rest of their kind's belief. The Council had been formed in secret once the Jiralhanae had been folded into the unified force that was the Holy Covenant. The Council consisted of warriors, both Covenant Military and not, Kaidon heads of several Sangheilios states, and several Sangheili exiled to the outermost regions of Covenant space.
They were all of the belief that the Jiralhanae would, sooner or later, eventually revolt against the Covenant leadership. Their primitive tribal minds would accept subservient roles that they held for only so long. Some of its younger members also believed that they would be led by a rebel faction of the Prophets. While Voro thought that the idea of rebel Prophets was quiet laughable, he did know that those Sangheili did have some merit in their thoughts.
Fidelias, his oldest friend and Ship Master of the Bane of Heresy, had once confided a secret to him. The Sangheili had witnessed several of the more senior Prophets argue over plans that they had been left out of. Plans that the Hierarchs themselves knew. . . And would not share with those they perceived their lesser. Voro could see that if that incident had not been the only one of its kind how it could give the wrong idea.
Nevertheless, this world would have been unbelievably useful to the Council. They could use their collective political powers to place a Sangheili governor from their ranks to control the planet. From there they would secretly ship some of the planets resources to far off Sangheili controlled factories, which were commanded by those whom had fallen out of favor of the Hierarchs Truth and Mercy. It seemed only the Prophet of Regret was left out, mainly because those Sangheili had been under his own orders and he refused to take blame.
Voro closed his eyes for a moment in deep thought. He vividly remembered the tales told to him by the elders of his Lineage. Tales of Sangheili who lived before the Covenant, of warriors who protected their kin no matter who they would cross. That was exactly the kind of leaders his people needed if they were to save the Covenant from the primitive and foolish Jiralhanae. Sangheili who did not fear the displeasure of their Prophets for taking action to protect their people. Unfortunately those were the Sangheili who were few in number, or tended to be sent to die on the front lines before they could truly take any course in their desires.
The Special Operations Officer had chosen to travel lightly. He carried only his blade, a Kig-Yar's carbine, a half dozen grenades, and an additional sword as well. The Demon would likely have few to no weapons at its own disposal. Voro would fight him in the same fashion, his honor as a Swordsman demanded he do such. The Sangheili Swordsman in him desired a challenge as well. If the Demons were as capable warriors as many of his people believed, then he would fight it as an equal.
What better way to prove he was the superior warrior than to defeat it in a duel? Voro would battle his target as a true Swordsman would, a struggle of blades. His blood ran hot at the thought of crossing swords with his prey.
"Operations Officer, we are approaching the Demon's last known location," said the voice of the ship's co- pilot. Voro narrowed his eyes slightly at the tone he detected. Fear
Turning to face the direction of the pilots the Sangheili swordsman gripped the handle of his blade. The Swordsman made his way into the cockpit, ignored the pilot's question of what he was doing. . . And rid his people of the coward's head.
"The Demon is not to be feared, for he will be the symbol of our total victory over the human filth," Voro said coldly as the pilot stared at his now dead assistant, annoyance in his eyes.
"You should have kept your fears to yourself. Now I must fly alone, and leave the weapons without a commander. Fool."
"Yes. He was, dispose of the body in what way you see fit Pilot. You may return to the Bane of Heresy once I am on the ground. Please aid our brothers in whatever way His Excellency sees fit." said Voro while returning to stare out at the surface of the world.
"By your leave, Voro 'Refumai." the pilot said in respect. It was then that the slight overtones of the 'Refum line reached his ears. Voro felt his mandibles click together in annoyance. It had been some time since he came across another of his kin, however distant from his family. He did not enjoy having to treat them as though he was superior to them, they were of the same blood.
Soon the dropship slowed to a halt, hovering over a large crater. The crater was several dozen feet deep, and easily a quarter of a kilometer across. Voro narrowed his eyes at the sight, more in disgust than anger. The humans, throughout entire course of the battle, had refused to use their orbital defense weapons on their precious planet. Yet despite its obvious ability to cause great damage to Covenant forces they had never utilized their greatest weapons.
Had this been a Sangheili world any sane Fleet Master would have used all resources at his disposal to defeat the invaders. No matter how damaged the planet would become it would still be their planet.
Without another word Voro was sent down to the edge of the crater by the pilot. The experienced warrior began to determine where his target had escaped to. As he searched the interior of the crater Voro began to feel a slight amount of respect for the Demon he was hunting. His prey had obviously been surrounded and about to be killed, that much was obvious. Half a battalion of Covenant troops, as well as land and air support, was not something that could be beaten in a head on assault.
That was impossible and his quarry knew it. With that knowledge the Demon had somehow sent a command to one of the damaged orbital weapons, that was still somewhat functional, and ordered it to fire on his position. Any Sangheili would understand the desire to die surrounded by as many of their own dead foes. That was why Voro knew the Demon had somehow survived.
Even with the knowledge of impending death a true warrior never accepted it. Always they would look for ways to survive, even if their only chance was to charge into overwhelming enemy numbers in an attempt to escape being encircled. With that in mind Voro began looking for anything he himself would have used to survive the orbital weapon.
Walking on the outskirts of the crater Voro came to a halt. Before him was the edge of a cliff face, and nearly a mile of angled rock wall to the bottom. Most Sangheili wouldn't have been able to survive jumping off the edge. Which was why Voro knew the human had done so. Beneath the helmet he wore, Voro twisted his two bottom mandibles to tap a point beneath them. A secure communications link to Bane of Heresy was quickly established.
"Operations Officer." came the commanding voice of Fidelias. Despite being on the planet and far from his comrade Voro still bowed his head. His respect for the Ship Master was great enough that he did so for him only. . . Not even a Prophet held the same amount of respect from him. "What have you found on the surface?"
"Your Excellency, I have arrived at the Demon's last known location."
"I did not ask for your location Voro." spoke the Ship Master in a slightly amused tone.
"Apologies your Excellency," Voro said quickly in an attempt to avoid embarrassment. "The Demon was indeed surrounded by our forces, as you said. Our forces were annihilated by a strike from one of the humans orbital defense weapons. The Demon targeted his own position."
"So the Demons have some honor after all. Continue."
"There is a cliff face very near to the impact point as well, Your Excellency." the silence that followed was very familiar to Voro. There was a reason for why Fidelias had become a Ship Master, despite his own Lineage's low position in the overall balance of Sangheili states. He had a gift for understanding the dozens of possible courses during key moments in battle, and determining which were most valuable in terms of intelligence.
"If the Demon intended to die it would have fought on, bringing more of our forces into the kill range. You believe that it chose to leap from the cliffs, do you not?" asked the experienced Ship Master.
"Indeed Your Excellency."
"Voro, as acting commander of all forces in this system I am giving you full autonomy. Until you capture the Demon you are to follow your own instincts. No other forces will be deployed to the area you are currently in, unless you request them. I have the utmost faith that you will not abuse this freedom I have entrusted to you."
"By the Writ of Union, I shall not fail in this most holy task." Voro responded immediately. His brother trusted him completely and he would not fail him. Not a moment after the communications line was cut, Voro followed the Demon's example.
AN: Christmas is in Six days people. SIX! Notice that particular fact? In honor of Noble Six, I have decided that today is an excellent day to begin my series of updates for Noble Life.
Every two days I will unleash on to Fan another chapter in my story. I have three chapters typed and ready, which will lead to the climax of the first arc of my story. How does, "Will to Live" sound for a Story Arcs name?
Anyway this does not meant that the story is ending, far from it. Noble Life won't be ending until we get to the end of First Strike.
Also has anyone seen Bungie's Holiday Picture? Its awesome and inspired me to type up my own Holiday One-shot. I'll put that up on Christmas Eve, but I will say this. Its way out there in the AU definition. It is a story for that picture, therefore the Chief, Noble, The Squad, and certain nearly normal humans and aliens, will be in it.
Crazy confusing Christmas Eve anybody?
I'm ending this on a good note. This will be how my updates will come to this story from now on. I will type up several chapters, finish those up, and then go on an updating blitz for the chapters I have written. So you may not see an update for a month, and then BAM! Update every other day for a week.
Oh, and anyone see the trailer for the new Pirates of the Caribbean, On Stranger Tides? "Captain" Jack Sparrow, in London. Oh boy, guard the Queens bed chambers British Troops! Lol.