- Wolverfrog
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- Fabled Legendary Member
Here's the latest part, it took a while to write, so I hope you enjoy it.
Part 24 -- The Covenant
Erebus walked through the gilded corridors of Placid Enrichment, a nervous look upon his face. At his side walked two Bodyguards, young by his species' standards. The young Jirahanae had not yet learned to control the pheromones they naturally gave off, and so the Brute ship master could clearly smell the stench of fear upon them. And rightly so.
But a tenth of a unit ago, Elite ships had entered the last remnant of Covenant space. They had a small enough fleet, but it was in likelihood simply a scouting party, mere ants before the inevitable armada that would soon follow.
Erebus's ship, which was patrolling the rim of the small asteroid cluster the shattered remains of the Covenant now resided in, had identified the presence of the fleet immediately. Erebus had immediately departed for Placid Enrichment in his personal Seraph, where he now was obliged to inform the holy Prophets, and the Chieftain of the Brutes, Daedalus, of the nearby threat.
It was all trivial anyway, whilst it was true that the Covenant still possessed some ships, captained by those who had not been crazy enough to follow the zealot Truth on his suicidal mission to the Ark, the small fleet was no match for the might of the Elites, and their ships, which numbered in the hundreds. Not to mention the fact that the humans were in league with the Elites now, or so the Covenant's spies had reported some months ago, before retreating to the asteroid vale, where they hoped to remain undisturbed.
Evidently, the Elites had different ideas. You couldn't blame them really, not after the genocide the Brutes had been ordered to commit upon them, at the long dead Prophet of Truth's orders. They wanted vengeance, which was understandable. Erebus but hoped he would die honourably in combat, rather than as a result of a ship being blown up.
The Brute looked around the corridor of Placid Enrichment, sighing. Whilst not on the same scale as High Charity had been, the Covenant's second most holy city held a certain reverence to it. It was terrible that soon, it would all be but ashes and dust.
The Brute Honour Guard at the entrance to the Prophet's chambers stood aside as Erebus approached. They knew of him, and so had no need to ask for identification. He walked through the sliding doors, and entered the hall.
The Covenant was no longer ruled by just the Prophet's, however, Erebus reminded himself. Indeed, after the fall of Truth and his co-rulers, Regret and Mercy, the High Council had decided that it would be wise to have a Brute lead the Covenant, alongside two elderly, wise Prophets, the Prophet of Sanctity, and the Prophet of Equanimity.
And so Daedalus, the oddly intelligent Chieftain of the Brutes, ascended the throne along with Sanctity and Equanimity. It was these three Erebus stood before now. Whilst both Sanctity and Equanimity resided in gravity defying chairs, Daedalus opted to sit in a stone throne, claiming that the hard, straight rock, which was uncomfortable to both sit and rest upon, would remind him of his duty to the Covenant.
"Shipmaster, I hear that you have news for us." Daedalus rumbled, his braided beard bouncing up and down.
"Speak your mind dear child." the elderly Sanctity intoned, motioning with his hand in the manner of the Prophets.
"Noble ones," Erebus began, kneeling before the leaders, crossing an arm across his power armoured chest, "I have grave, disturbing news. The Sangheili have entered this asteroid belt. My ships saw them, and immediately I embarked for Placid Enrichment, to inform you personally. It won't be long now before they discover the location of this holy city. I fear the Covenant, shall be broken."
The news shocked both Daedalus and Sanctity, and the colour drained from their faces. Daedalus tightened his grip around the stone armrests of his chair, which cracked ever so slightly. Equanimity, however, merely nodded gravely, and then spoke,
"Long have we known this day would come, ever since Truth fell at the Ark. It has but been a matter of when. How many ships?" the noble Prophet asked, keeping his composture.
"My ships picked up but ten holy Prophets, a mere inclination of what is to come." Erebus replied stiffly, a sad look gracing his fur matted face.
"We should ready the defences." Daedalus spoke half heartedly, knowing deep down that nothing the Covenant possessed now would stand against the Elites. The fleet of Placid Enrichment had but forty ships, where the Elites likely numbered hundreds. Even were they to possess as many, or even more ships than the Elites, they would still lose to the far superior Elite Zealots who commanded the ships. The fact that at the Ark, R'tas Vadum's fleet had defeated Truth's, which possessed more than three times the ships his did, spoke measures.
"Yes, yes we should. Daedalus, would you take charge of the defence of this city, and her fleet?" Sanctity breathed, looking sadly at the Chieftain of the Brutes, who nodded.
"It would be an honour." Daedalus replied to the two Prophets, who smiled emptily. The Brute stood up, towering over Erebus, at nearly ten feet tall. Intelligent, powerful, and compassionate. As brilliant a leader as the Covenant could ever have hoped for. Yet it was all irrelevant.
The Chieftain of the Brutes reached for the ancient, divine weapon of the Brutes, the Fist of Rukt, passed down by generations of Brute clans. After Daedalus and his Brutes had recovered the large hammer from Halo whilst the Elites and humans had been occupied at the Ark, battling through waves of Flood to reach it, Daedalus had taken the Rukt as his own, rightly so, seeing as how Tartarus had been his cousin.
"Ship master," Daedalus spoke to Erebus, lifting the Fist of Rukt with one, gargantuan hand, "come with me, you shall assist me in co-ordinating this last stand."
"The Jiralhanae will not go down without a fight."
*********************
Time slowed for John. Everything went quiet, and out of focus. As a Spartan, he had always remarked that sometimes, in events of extreme stress, time itself seemed to slow down, so much so that he could pluck a bullet out of the air as it moved towards him.
This feeling was...similar, but not quite the same. He saw the lasers fire from the Sentinel weapons, but the beams of light moved slowly. Not wasting any time, John side stepped out of the way, aware that he had just moved faster than the speed of light. Perhaps the fact that this room was in slip space attributed to that.
He un-shouldered his own rifle, and aimed it at the Sentinels flying above. Time quickened again, and the lasers fired moments before blasted harmlessly against the wall. The Sentinels drew back , confused, wondering how the target could have evaded them.
They didn't have much time to process this anomaly though, for John immediately retaliated with a volley of his own fire, which smashed into the drones, destroying them. The AI named Offensive Bias turned around, the light in it's lens widening in shock.
"How very interesting Reclaimer, it would seem there is more to you than I originally thought. But mark my words, you will die today. Farewell."
And with that, the monitor vanished, leaving John and the Didact to stand in the room surrounded by broken machines.
"What was that?" John asked of the Didact, who was stood in shock. The Forerunner quickly regained his composure though, and turned towards John.
"Offensive Bias, one of my creations. It would seem he has fallen into rampancy, a side effect from the aggression I built into him. This is a problem."
"Why did it leave though?" John replied.
"Perhaps he thought we would be able to overcome him together. Perhaps he--hold on, what's that noise?" the Didact suddenly questioned; John heard it too. A hissing sound, like pressure being released. The noise echoed around the room, and John realised it was the sound of the pods being unsealed.
"Didact, that Offensive Bias unsealed those pods." John warned, backing against the wall. The pod doors were sliding away now.
"This isn't good. All the residents within the pods have been infected by the Flood."
Mottled hands reached flew out of the tubes, and groans began to fill the room, screaming, shouting. John felt uneasiness began to creep upon him; he was, deep down, afraid of the Flood. Terrified of them.
As one, the army of Flood dropped to the floor; thousands of them. They shook their gruesome heads, moving their misshapen mouths around, flexing their decayed arms. Thankfully, none of them had weapons upon them, otherwise John and the Didact would have been in real trouble.
The infected Forerunners looked around the room, and their eyes snapped upon before he and the Didact. They began to shuffle forward slowly. Strange, John had seen how fast the Flood could run, and jump. Each one was nearly, athletically, like a Spartan.
"Technically, the infection forms within the hosts haven't had long to assimilate with the new bodies; and being kept in stasis for this long will have weakened the infection cell. They are but a fraction of what they could be." the Didact explained, backing towards John. It did little to alleviate the Spartan's fears; Flood were Flood.
"Consume...all...ravage...devoured...I...planet...fall.. .before us..." the Flood crowd rumbled in their gravelly voices. Wait, they were speaking?
"I thought the Flood couldn't speak unless they were connected to a Gravemind." John phrased to the Didact, who stiffened.
"They can't. Are you sure you killed the central intelligence Reclaimer?" the Forerunner replied, loosing off a shot at a Flood form. The beam of energy impacted upon the body, spraying bio-mass over it's brethren, who continued moving on regardless.
[Edited on 09.08.2009 9:05 AM PDT]