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Subject: Heretic or Hero?---An Elite's story (Remastered) Updtd: 12/15

Halo: Heretic or Hero---An Elite's Story
Choose your own destiny

FanFicFactor
Forged in the Flames of Passion, go forth and represent!

The Sangheili Chronicles

Novels by Sergeant Murph

Summary: The Human-Covenant war is slowly drawing closer to its fateful conclusion, but that is not the story we follow in this saga. Among the Honor Guards that fought to protect the Prophet of Regret was a single treacherous Elite, who abandoned the Prophet when he needed help most in his duel with Spartan 117. This trilogy follows the events that took place in the life of this heretic and his group of unlikely comrades, through their struggles and triumphs, and most importantly, how they fought to the bitter end to make a difference.

Table of Contents:

Prologue---"Regrets"

Chapter One---"Paths of the Heretic"
Chapter Two---"Ambush"
Chapter Three---"Choosing Sides"
Chapter Four---"Kovalee"
Chapter Five---"The Last Betrayal"
Chapter Six---"Up For Adoption"
Chapter Seven---"One Big Happy Family"
Chapter Eight---"Hide & Seek"
Chapter Nine---"Fear and Fanatics"
To be continued...

[Edited on 12.15.2009 5:44 PM PST]

  • 06.24.2009 1:39 PM PDT
Subject: Heretic or Hero?---An Elite's story (Remastered) Updtd: 6/24

Halo: Heretic or Hero---An Elite's Story
Choose your own destiny

FanFicFactor
Forged in the Flames of Passion, go forth and represent!

Prologue

Regrets

I never wanted to be a traitor.

I never sought after separating; not once had I considered switching sides, abandoning all that I'd come to know. I was taught that way. Taught to be at the obedience and convenience of my wicked master. Taught to be nothing more than a terribly misguided pawn.

It seemed, though, that fate had taken me down a new path; one that would shatter the chains that tied me to the Covenant. One that would have me be the first of many to see the light, and to act in its favor.

And it all began with an act of cowardice.

***

He had arrived.

We knew he'd come eventually. We knew he was after my master, and we were as ready to fight as we'd ever been. The problem was, however, that we could never be ready enough.

He strode out to the high peak of the entrance platform and slowly looked from left to right. A shimmer of light streaked by his visor, and he seemed to grow taller and more menacing as he steadily advanced.

All eyes fell upon my master, leaning back in his throne, eyes lit in fury and knotted with revenge. The human warrior and my master locked eyes for a moment, trading their hatred into each other. Suddenly, my master smiled wryly.

"This is the human's greatest warrior?" he said with a great guffaw. "Why anyone would fear this Demon is beyond me!"

Instead of speaking, the Demon replied in action.

Two of the Honor Guard dashed up both stairwells, closing off both sides. Immediately, all of the Guard took their defensive positions, closing off the paths between the Demon and the Master.

All of them save for me.

I stood there, against the wall, frozen in fear. This was no ordinary opponent. This was a warrior that was fueled by bloodlust and would easily outmatch me. I was no fighter. I was a slave, and a weak one at that. My chances of survival were slim to naught.

I didn't care if I was breaking the code I'd sworn to. I didn't care if I was a heretic. I only saw a faint chance of surviving, and I took it willingly. Acting quickly and stealthily, I leapt behind one of the tall pillars and out of the Demon's sight.

Looking through a small opening I saw him wreak havoc.

Without so much as a flinch he ducked beneath the arcs of the two Energy Swords, then grabbed each Honor Guard by the wrist and yanked them together. The pair fell with a cry to the ground, their blades skewering each other.

I gasped. Those two had been the most skilled of our order, and the Demon had dispatched them without effort. Never had I imagined that the humans had such a weapon at their disposal.

"Guards!" roared the Master, his large black eyes ablaze. "Remove this vermin from my sight!"

Four more guards surrounded him as he strode down the staircase to the ground level.

Four more guards were left as corpses.

I shut my eyes, horrified. What if he found me here? What if he found my hiding place and slaughtered me like he did the rest?

No. I wasn't dying. Not today.

He wouldn't find me here, because I wouldn't be here.

I stood up and crept out from behind the pillar. The Demon was advancing quickly through our ranks, and nothing stood between him and my Master. Soon he, too, would fall. I had only one choice.

I made a run for the exit.

I tuned out all other senses. I was in a lonely place for a moment, with only the door, me, and the scent of freedom that hung vaguely in the air. There was not a moment that I felt even a trace of guilt.

A crack erupted from behind. For a moment I came back to reality and looked over my shoulder to see the Demon, clinging on to the Master's gravity throne with one hand and delivering a sharp blow with his other fist. My Master wailed and made an attempt to shake the Demon off, but to no avail. Punch after furious punch landed on my Master's face. Blood dripped from his mouth. He had almost met his end.

I didn't want to be there when that happened. As much as I despised him, I would not watch him die before my eyes.

Before I knew it, the exit was in front of me. Another step and I would be a traitor to the Covenant. I could never go back. I'd spend what was left of my life as a heretic, hated by both sides of this war and with no one to stand by me. I'd be hunted down like an animal. Was it worth it?

Suddenly, my decision was cut short. I felt something run through my veins. Something I'd never felt before.

The feeling of eyes on my back. Eyes calling for help.

I slowly turned around: I was the only one left. He'd killed them all. Now there were three left living in this chamber: the Demon, my Master, and me.

The warrior, the tyrant, and the heretic.

And the tyrant was calling for my help. He looked weak now. Whenever I'd looked at him before, he was more powerful than any of us. He was dominate, and no one would speak of him without praise.

Now he looked like a worthless bug about to be squashed.

I gave him one final glare, as if to say 'you brought this on yourself', and turned around. I'd never been respected. I'd been ignored; beaten; scolded. I meant nothing to him, and he certainly meant nothing to me.

I left him behind. I left all of it behind.

Without looking back, I left the temple with the Prophet of Regret's last scream echoing behind me.

End Transmission

  • 06.24.2009 1:40 PM PDT

By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.

This prologue seems much more powerful than the other, job well done!

  • 06.24.2009 2:26 PM PDT

some ask for recon, some ask to be unbanhammered, i on the other hand, just play.

bravo, two thumbs up and a five star rating!

***** <-- see what i did there? those are stars, trust me.

  • 06.24.2009 10:01 PM PDT
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Wow.. rewriting the whole story, I'm looking forward to it!

I might think about redoing the cover better too, much like your writing, my photo editing skills are also so much better now. I assume the group is still going strong? I actually haven't been going onto groups much lately.

Thanks for the PM, I'll be sure to follow the re-write too!

  • 06.25.2009 11:31 PM PDT
Subject: Heretic or Hero?---An Elite's story (Remastered) Updtd: 6/26

Halo: Heretic or Hero---An Elite's Story
Choose your own destiny

FanFicFactor
Forged in the Flames of Passion, go forth and represent!

Chapter One

The Paths of the Heretic

I was free.

It felt strange. It felt as if I'd just passed through a gate that had so long been locked away, and the outside world stretched vastly in front of me. Where would I go? Home, perhaps, although I didn't have a vessel to get me off of this strange world--this ring.

I walked slowly to the edge of the temple, peering over the water. I could vaguely see my reflection: shimmering red armor with a tall orange headdress and gold shoulder pieces. I wouldn't need that anymore. I tore of the headdress and cast it into the depths with a sense of pride. It made a small splash as it disappeared into the abyss.

Suddenly, my reflection was not there anymore. Instead, in the water, I saw a great fleet of Covenant cruisers, gathered together, capital ships gracefully but menacingly hovering in place.

I turned away from the water and looked up at the sky, and sure enough the armada of ships hung overhead. What was happening? What were they all doing, gathering together?

My eyes were still averted upward as a sharp gust of wind blew in from the North, and a large shadow fell over the temple. The immense wind knocked me off my feet.

A small Covenant cruiser hovered just above the temple. I lay sprawled on the ground, rooted in horror. This was no transport ship to extract survivors. This cruiser was here with the intent to kill.

Without warning, Phantoms branched off of the fleet overhead and swarmed the temple. They were readying their cannons. They were going to burn the temple to the ground, with the Demon still inside of it.

Or so I thought, for suddenly I heard heavy footsteps on the walkway behind. Sure enough, a warrior with fresh blood tainting his green armor strode down the bridge to the main platform of the temple. He took no notice of me, as I seemed to blend in with the corpses scattered around the platform. His work, no doubt.

Instead, his gaze was cast on the ship, and without hesitation he broke into a sprint the opposite direction. That was odd. I'd never thought the human who'd had the mind to break through wave after wave of Covenant forces to get to the Prophet himself would so easily be swayed into running.

Instinctively, I gathered myself back to my feet and glanced quickly up: a small circular panel was directly above me. A gravity lift? Slowly, the gap started to turn a vibrant purple. That was no gravity lift.

With a cry, I rolled to the right, narrowly evading the energy projector beam. The spot I had been in a moment ago had been obliterated, and still the beam was expanding in all directions, quickly turning everything it met to dust.

I scrambled to my feet, stumbled twice, and dashed off in the other direction. The platform was quickly slipping out from under me; plasma fire rained down from the Phantoms hovering above, and the temple itself was ablaze. The great spire of the Forerunner structure collapsed, and from there a chain reaction occurred. The last I saw of the Holy Temple was a solemn looking pile of rubble whose flame burned on until it was swallowed whole by the purple beam.

I was on the brink of being consumed as well. The stone underneath me broke and crumbled as I ran. I could feel the heat of the beam, licking at my heels. If I hesitated for even an instant I'd be vaporized instantly.



[Edited on 06.27.2009 4:56 PM PDT]

  • 06.27.2009 4:54 PM PDT
Subject: Heretic or Hero?---An Elite's story (Remastered) Updtd: 6/24

Halo: Heretic or Hero---An Elite's Story
Choose your own destiny

FanFicFactor
Forged in the Flames of Passion, go forth and represent!

The edge of the platform was in front of me now; it was a long jump to the dark water below, but I saw no other choice. I was on the threshold of death.

With one final gasp for life, I sprang forward with my feet kicking behind me and soared off of the platform, leaving the bombardment behind me. I hung in the air for a moment, then dropped like a rock, beginning my long descent to the waters below.

***

"Damn, they were hell bent on making sure they got him," muttered Sergeant William A. Anderson. He was a vigilant fellow; the first to see the smoke rising up from the temple. For the last few minutes he'd been rather distant to his men-- rather than discussing their next move, he'd instead cast his gaze at the ruined structure in the river, watching curiously for a heavily armored human soldier to swim back to shore.

Private Jason Burns drew up beside him. Burns, like Anderson, was short in stature but his upper body bulk made up for it. Burns was a young man, only just admitted into the military. He had roughly cropped brown hair and burrowing blue eyes, while Anderson, who was at the very least ten years older than him, had clean cropped hair that was gelled at the top and a grizzled chin. Despite the age and rank difference between them, the pair had become inseparable.

"You don't think...you don't think he's dead, do you?" asked Burns.

Anderson sighed heavily and shrugged. "There are a lot of things I'd like to think right now, Burns, but I can't say I have much hope for him. Even a Spartan can't survive an all-out bombardment like that."

"You said it yourself," Burns replied softly, folding his arms. "He's a Spartan. Spartans never die." He smiled weakly. "That's what I've been told, anyway."

The joke didn't seem to have much effect on Anderson. He was still stern faced and determined to catch sight of a survivor-- it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. That didn't matter to Anderson. When he had a goal he saw it through to the very end.

Burns looked at his Sergeant more closely. His jaw was tighter than usual. Something was bothering him.

"You're thinking about Reach," Burns said quietly.

Anderson's eyebrows shot up, and he whirled around to look at Burns. "How did you know that?"

"When you think about Reach, your face changes," he said simply. Anderson gawked at him, so he went on. "You turn pale, and your eyes look sad. That's how I can always tell." Burns bowed his head.

"Your awfully perceptive," Anderson commented. "But yes, you're right. I was just...thinking. About Julia. About home. I just can't bring myself to believe it's all gone."

Almost ten years ago, Anderson had left his home and his wife behind on the one place he'd thought would remain untouched; it turned out that Reach had taken the hardest hit of all. Now his wife was dead and the place that he'd once called his home lay in ruin. Still, concealed deep in his heart, was a dark lust for blood and revenge for all that he'd lost.

The two of them fell awkwardly silent for a while. The sun hung low in the sky, and daylight had nearly broken. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Anderson caught sight of a silhouette against the dark waters. The figure lay flat on a large piece of stone that had broken off from the temple. His chest thumped up and down at a constant rate, and Anderson could tell he was in pain. Burns caught sight of this too, and leapt forward, sliding down the rocky hill to get a closer look.

"Do you think it's him?" asked Burns.

"I don't know," murmured Sergeant Anderson. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again and said, "and I don't care." He turned and smiled wryly at his nine other men."Looks like we've caught ourselves a fishy, boys. Let's reel her in."

***

He'd seen me.

The human had stared at me. He'd seen me floating here, barely able to muster enough breath to keep me conscious. Then he'd run away. He was coming for me.

He'd kill me when he found me, I was certain of that. I knew all about these humans; they were nothing but cold-hearted murderers who'd kill a Sangheili on sight and wouldn't think twice about burning the corpse.

I was a pathetic fighter, needless to say. I would not win through strength and power, but through stealth and deception. I was never fit to be an Honor Guard. The position had been thrust upon me as a punishment, not as a privilege.

A punishment for my beliefs.

A punishment that had changed me forever.

The pillar of stone that I clung on to was quickly advancing toward the shore. Could I run from there? It would be a chance with odds stacked against me, but I didn't seem to have a choice.

Everyone has a choice, my son. Do not let yours be chosen blindly.

I sighed. "I know, father," I said softly aloud. "I know."

End Transmission

  • 06.27.2009 4:54 PM PDT
Subject: Heretic or Hero?---An Elite's story (Remastered) Updtd: 6/26

The feeling of eyes on my back. Eyes calling for help.


Beautiful.

And your choice to make the protagonist NOT the top of his class? Super duper? Great change of pace.

[Edited on 06.27.2009 7:36 PM PDT]

  • 06.27.2009 7:29 PM PDT

some ask for recon, some ask to be unbanhammered, i on the other hand, just play.

*tears* damn, i wish i could write that good.

  • 06.29.2009 1:40 PM PDT

Posted by: CRYPTO 200
*tears* damn, i wish i could write that good.


Write that "well".

Sorry, just found that funny ;)

  • 06.29.2009 5:28 PM PDT
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Honor. Respect. Loyalty.

Secondary Protocol

Absolutely incredible use of descriptive words, so far your story could rival many of the boring and bland books you find in the book store.

  • 07.02.2009 1:40 PM PDT
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Doesn't look like there are many people following this from the lack of responses, maybe because it's in the Gallery?

Doesn't matter either way, just means the thread is less cluttered so easier reading :D

  • 07.03.2009 2:36 AM PDT

''''''''''''& #39;'''''''''''&# 39;''''''''''' 9;'''''''''''' ;
'''''''
''''''''''''& #39;'''''''''''&# 39;''''''''''' 9;'''''''''''' ;'''''''''''' ''''''''''''& #39;
''''''''''''& #39;'''''''''''&# 39;''''''''''' 9;'''''''
''''''''''''& #39;'''''''''''&# 39;''''''''''' 9;'''''''''''' ;'''''''''''' ''''''''''''& #39;'''''''''''&# 39;''''''''''' 9;'''''''''''' ;'''''''''

pretty good

  • 07.03.2009 4:09 AM PDT

Halo: Heretic or Hero---An Elite's Story
Choose your own destiny

FanFicFactor
Forged in the Flames of Passion, go forth and represent!

Chapter Two

Ambush

I didn't like that water; from the depths below to the surface it bore the legacy of a race now extinct. I imagined that they were calling to me, grabbing at my feet. That lake was not normal-- it was cursed with millennia of solemnity and horror.

I lay on the sand for a moment, resting, looking up at the sky and the ring circling overhead. Reality was only just making its way into my mind: I was alone, both physically and mentally. I had a sudden feeling that I'd made the wrong choice-- maybe, if I'd chosen to die with a purpose at the hands of the Demon himself, it would have been an honorable death. What honor did I have now, laying here, knowing that I was the last of my Guard to still be breathing? They'd fought for what they knew was right; I'd abandoned them like a frightened child. What was I, really?

And yet I already knew.

I was a traitor. A heretic.

Heretic. It didn't seem real when I thought about it. I'd seen heretics before: they would speak out against the Prophets, defy their teachings and promises of godly stature to us all, and would not think twice about giving their lives to their cause. I'd seen them publicly tortured and stripped of the honor they once held dear. I'd seen their bravery and determination to fight until their hearts beat no more.

I'd only seen one die, though.

And that is what threw me over the edge. I'd known him, all right. He'd been there for me when no one else gave a damn whether I was dead or not. When he died, I put every bit of strength I had into avenging his death and making sure his killer suffered a painful price. I'd make sure he knew what he'd taken from me.

My father. My own father, like I am now, was a heretic.

***

The Elite was not at all aware of the eleven pairs of eyes looking curiously down at him from atop a tall boulder. Sergeant Anderson gave no orders, he just looked sidelong at the Sangheili, sprawled out on his back, panting hard.

One Marine raised his Battle Rifle. "Should I take it out, sir?"

Anderson glared at him heatedly. "We were sent out here to search for the Master Chief, and you want to 'take out' our only witness? Hardly a firm-minded tactic, is it? No, we're taking him back to base in one piece."

Several Marines stirred awkwardly. None of them had ever captured a live and unwounded Elite without first filling its head with bullets. Would their Sergeant's patience be the end of them?

Anderson led the way down to the beach, where the Elite still lay there, dazed and exhausted. Anderson wondered what his position in all of this was-- he was unarmed, half-asleep, and frankly, did not look like an ordinary Sangheili warrior, bent on wiping out any human he laid eyes on. He

Anderson got low to the sand and slipped slowly toward him. Still the creature looked like getting to his feet would be a struggle.

Then, to their horror, it stood up with hardly a struggle, flexing back its enormous shoulder muscles. Luckily, the Sangheili's eyes were still cast out into the setting sun. Anderson shot an intense look back at his men that seemed to substitute for words. Don't move.

They all nodded in unison as Anderson crept forward, his hands shaking and his pupils bulging. This needed to be done swift as a fox; if the first punch didn't knock it out

Suddenly, the Elite's wide yellow eyes shuttered open. He was temporarily dazzled by the heavy gold light streaming down on him. Anderson prepared to pounce on him, but, to his horror, the red-armored Sangheili struggled to his feet, stretched his enormous shoulder blades, then slowly turned around.

The two of them locked eyes.

"Well, that didn't go as planned," murmured Anderson, backing a short step away.

The Elite took a small step forward, and immediately every weapon was poised to fire at him. He stopped again, rooted to the spot, still staring absent-mindedly at them as if he was waiting for something. Waiting for them to strike.

Burns looked at his Sergeant, confused. Anderson, noting the Elite's serenity, slowly circled around it, thoughtfully looking it over as if he were reading a newspaper. The crimson-armored soldier still did not stir.

  • 08.05.2009 5:49 AM PDT

Halo: Heretic or Hero---An Elite's Story
Choose your own destiny

FanFicFactor
Forged in the Flames of Passion, go forth and represent!

The Sangheili turned his emotionless gaze to Anderson, who still looked bewilderingly at him. It was he who took the first step forward.

"You're an odd one, aren't you?" Anderson asked him. The Elite made no answer, just kept staring. "Don't play dumb with me," Anderson warned. "You speak English, don't you?"

No reply.

"Look," he pressed. "We won't ask for trouble unless you offer. We're only here for information, and I think we both know that you can give it to us." He looked at the Elite with sincerity in his eyes, but this one had seen it all before. He knew how kindness and gentility ended-- in blood. Why is he just standing there? Thought Anderson. He should be at our throats by now.

Not a sound came from the Sangheili's mouth. It seemed that interrogation without physical force was not an option.

"Enough of this!" yelled the ignorant Marine that had been eager to kill the Elite in the first place. "We're getting nowhere, sir. We need to make him squeal for answers, not ask him nicely!"

Before Anderson could respond the Marine leapt forward with the naïve assumption that the rest of his squad was following closely behind. The Elite's eyes quickly averted toward the human advancing toward him, his fist wound up to deliver a blow to his face.

Without a split-second's thought, the Elite's own hand darted at lightning speed to catch hold of the fist. Several Marines gasped. The attacking human's face went suddenly grave.

Then the Elite struck.
***

I didn't realize my fingers were curled around the human's neck until I heard a sudden angry, demanding voice from behind me.

"Let him go or I'll bury you on this beach," it whispered in my ear. Chilling metal fell upon the back of my neck; undoubtedly a human weapon. Somehow, without seeing him, I knew this was the human that had seen me amidst the rubble, then spoke out to me. There was something about him that wasn't right. Something all too familiar to me, but I couldn't place him.

The human in my grasp sputtered moaned. He looked deathly pale, and a twinkling light was fading from his eyes.

"Let him go!" the human demanded again, thrusting the barrel of his weapon farther into my neck. I gritted my teeth, hatred taking form inside of me. My firm hold on his throat only tightened. I didn't see the consequences; all I saw was an enemy's life resting on my will-- a life that I was willing to take out of vengeance. If I applied full force, I could certainly crush his small wind pipe and leave him to his misery. Yes, I'd do that. I was going to kill this pathetic human.

Wasn't I?

His nearly blank eyes were still pleading for life. He'd stopped squirming. He'd left me to make my own decision. I could let him live to slaughter more of my kind or take his life for my own personal gain.

Was I really going to become all that I hated?

With a sigh, I let my arm fall limp, and he tumbled away, his breaths exhaling in short shrieks, and his eyes cast somewhere distant.

I expected the weapon to be drawn away from my neck, but it remained, and so did the human, standing guard behind me like I was an unstable beast that could break free and wreak havoc at any given moment.

Perhaps I'd given myself that reputation.

"Now that that's over with," the human addressed me, "I think it's time to get down to business."

I snorted in reply.

"Anderson, we're not getting anything out of him, even at gunpoint," a younger looking human told him. "We have to try a different approach."

"Do you have a better idea, Burns?" the human named Anderson asked sweetly but with a hint of annoyance.

"Bring him back to the base," Burns answered flatly. "We may be able to use him for something beyond information."

I stared at him, bewildered. What was he getting at? What did I have to offer other than information?

"So that he can throttle us in our sleep?" Anderson retorted. "He's a menace, Burns. He's a killer. I don't trust him."

A killer.

Was that what I was? Was I a mindless murder with the intent to see death, with the taste of blood on my mouth? It suddenly came to me that I'd almost killed that human-- the fact that I'd almost taken a life was now evident, and I felt something chilling pass through me.

"He's alone, Sergeant," Burns said, looking at me with pity in his eyes. "He's nothing on his own. Can't you see that?"

Anderson fell silent. I had a feeling that the two forgot that their entire squadron was watching in awe, and I was at the mercy of Anderson's weapon.

"You don't have to trust him," Burns went on, his soft blue eyes still on me. "But you have to trust me."

"I trust you," Anderson said hesitantly, and, to my astonishment, he withdrew the gun from my neck. He stepped around me, his shoulder lightly brushing against mine, and stood beside Burns. Suddenly, I didn't want to run anymore. It wasn't because I was comfortable, it was because I knew that wherever I went I'd be tracked down. They wanted to use me for their own purposes, and they were incredibly persistent beings.

Oddly, they didn't match the description of the humans the Prophets had raved about. Instead of being killed on sight, they'd spared me, and given me a chance to run if it was my desire.

My thoughts were cut short by a whining sound, distant but becoming louder with each passing moment. It seemed that only I knew this terrible sound by heart. It was like the echoing screech of a hawk, plummeting down to earth.

It was a Fuel Rod.

It was going to kill us all.

End Transmission

  • 08.05.2009 5:49 AM PDT

Posted by: BeyondMortality
Posted by: Radishhhh
4 europeans, an american and a japanese person in a game


I was totally expecting a joke out of that.

Badass story.

Well written and engaging, if it were a book I wouldn't be able to put it down :)

For critiscism though, the ending of that chapter with the fuel rod just felt strange. A little too rushed, perhaps, but that might just be me.

But keep it up!

  • 08.05.2009 8:12 PM PDT

Halo: Heretic or Hero---An Elite's Story
Choose your own destiny

FanFicFactor
Forged in the Flames of Passion, go forth and represent!

Posted by: Darkjigglypuff
Badass story.

Well written and engaging, if it were a book I wouldn't be able to put it down :)

For critiscism though, the ending of that chapter with the fuel rod just felt strange. A little too rushed, perhaps, but that might just be me.

But keep it up!


Aha! So that was what was wrong with it! I was re-reading it over and over deciding why it felt so awkward. Thank you, and I will start editing it now!

  • 08.06.2009 5:43 AM PDT
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I can't wait for the other part to come out =)

  • 08.08.2009 4:42 AM PDT
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Do not waste your tears, I was not born to watch the world grow dim. Life is not measured in years, but by the deeds of men.

Posted by: goldhawk
We should know better, because we are better.

Even better than the original chronicles!

  • 08.10.2009 7:01 AM PDT
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SAS Halo 3

What happened to : Through My Eyes. Have you finished it Murph?

  • 08.15.2009 2:13 AM PDT

Halo: Heretic or Hero---An Elite's Story
Choose your own destiny

FanFicFactor
Forged in the Flames of Passion, go forth and represent!

Posted by: Grunt Killa44
What happened to : Through My Eyes. Have you finished it Murph?


Well, you see, I was going to finish out Through My Eyes, but it seemed like nobody was reading anymore, so I thought it would be wise to rewrite the series with a new twist to get more people interested. You'll find that this story has the same basic concepts as its original version, but with a few different twists and turns that make for a better story.

  • 08.17.2009 9:35 AM PDT

Halo: Heretic or Hero---An Elite's Story
Choose your own destiny

FanFicFactor
Forged in the Flames of Passion, go forth and represent!

Chapter Three

Choosing a Side

I do not know why I did it. I don't know why I didn't dive away, save my own neck and let the human be obliterated before my very eyes. Something inside of me got my legs moving at an impossible pace; made me dive at the human leader, Anderson, and drag him down by the shoulders.

The two of us rolled down the sand just as the Fuel Rod struck viciously at the area we'd been standing at moments before. Sand, dirt, and several unlucky humans were spat into the air by the explosion. I could feel the lick of the furiously hot flames on my back.

Six Banshees whined over us, each dropping their own Fuel Rods into the sand, creating mass chaos on the beach. The humans screamed and dived behind rocks to shield themselves from the aerial bombardment. I let go of Anderson and painfully struggled to my feet, careful to keep my gaze aimed away from him.

I knew he was staring at me. I knew what he was thinking, too. I'd saved him from certain death, and he didn't know why. What he didn't know, though, is that I didn't know either. I felt a sharp feeling of remorse inside of me for letting him live. He didn't trust me and I didn't trust him. He deserved to die.

And yet

His words echoed in my ears. Killer. Images washed through my mind; horrible images of death and misery-- images of my blood splattered past.

It took him a moment to gather himself. He spat blood into the sand and stood up. "Status, Burns?"

"We've lost Francis and Alcov, sir, but the rest of us are alright," came the voice of Burns from behind his screen of rocks. "Those Banshees I think they were scouts, maybe looking for strays, or maybe--"

"Looking for the Master Chief," Anderson finished with a shaking head. "Looks like the Covenant have joined our scavenger hunt, then. Let's hope we get a hold of him first."

I stifled a gasp--the Demon! I'd almost forgotten him in all that had happened in the past hour. So they were searching for him. Searching for the warrior that I'd seen launch himself into the dark lake waters and disappear in the depths. That was why they'd come for me; that was the information they'd needed from me.

"Sir, look, in the sky!"

I saw them first-- two Phantoms breaking off from the great Fleet soaring overhead. They turned and darted quickly toward us, their great gun turrets focusing in.

"Damn!" called Burns. "They just keep coming! What do you suggest, sir?"

All eyes turned to Anderson, who was still propped up against the rock, panting hard. There was a gash on his forehead from a rock he had hit when I'd wrestled him down. Do my discomfort, though, his eyes were still on me, gazing as if he were a curious child who was at a loss of words.

Finally, he closed his eyes and stood up straight, moaned softly as his back cracked, and paced over into the middle of the pack of humans. "I suggest we pile the bodies in an orderly fashion so that the Covenant can scoop 'em up later."

"We're fighting?"

I hadn't meant to squeal, but the words tasted like dirt on my tongue. I was not a skilled fighter. What chance did I stand against two full drop ships of Covenant soldiers?

"Yes, unless you'd rather run like a coward right back to your precious Covenant, in which case we'll shoot you down before you can say 'wort wort wort'." I couldn't believe that Anderson could possibly be jeering me in this situation. He was different than I had expected; it was as if he spat in the face of death.

I hung my head in a mix of misery and utter confusion. I'd never dreamed that I'd be asked to fight along side humans. Humans, the race I'd been taught to hate, to want to eradicate. Humans, the people I'd been told had caused the death of my mother. Humans, who'd plunged my life into war.

Humans, that trusted in me in a way no one ever had.

"I will fight," I muttered with conspicuous bitterness. Anderson nodded and tore a small weapon from his belt. He twirled it once on his finger before flipping it to me. I caught it and weighed it in my palm-- it was light and useable with only one hand.

"Alright boys, let's show our Elite friend how we do it back on Earth," yelled Anderson, walking slowly along the few ranks of soldiers.

"Sir yes sir!" they called in perfect unison.

The battle had begun.


  • 08.17.2009 10:26 AM PDT

Posted by: Dropship dude
No, acnboy. Spartain Ken 15 is a lesser being. Much like the bacteria that lives in your shi­t.
Posted by: mike120593
My shi­t bacteria takes offense to that comparison.

Don't make me lel. You won't like me when I lel.

Ah, far better than the previous story.

  • 08.21.2009 6:05 PM PDT
Subject: Heretic or Hero?---An Elite's story (Remastered) Updtd: 8/18
  • gamertag: [none]
  • user homepage:

SAS Halo 3

Posted by: Sergeant Murph
Posted by: Grunt Killa44
What happened to : Through My Eyes. Have you finished it Murph?


Well, you see, I was going to finish out Through My Eyes, but it seemed like nobody was reading anymore, so I thought it would be wise to rewrite the series with a new twist to get more people interested. You'll find that this story has the same basic concepts as its original version, but with a few different twists and turns that make for a better story.


Damn. =( I was enjoying reading Through My Eyes..... anyways your one of the best writers iv seen, well writen.! Show Bungie your work. Im sure theyll give ya Recon! :)

[Edited on 08.24.2009 4:19 PM PDT]

  • 08.22.2009 10:09 PM PDT
Subject: Heretic or Hero?---An Elite's story (Remastered) Updtd: 6/26

Posted by: Dropship dude
No, acnboy. Spartain Ken 15 is a lesser being. Much like the bacteria that lives in your shi­t.
Posted by: mike120593
My shi­t bacteria takes offense to that comparison.

Don't make me lel. You won't like me when I lel.

Posted by: Grunt Killa44
Posted by: Sergeant Murph
Posted by: Grunt Killa44
What happened to : Through My Eyes. Have you finished it Murph?


Well, you see, I was going to finish out Through My Eyes, but it seemed like nobody was reading anymore, so I thought it would be wise to rewrite the series with a new twist to get more people interested. You'll find that this story has the same basic concepts as its original version, but with a few different twists and turns that make for a better story.


Damn. =( I was enjoying reading Through My Eyes..... anyways your one of the best writers iv seen, well read.! Show Bungie your work. Im sure theyll give ya Recon! :)

That's the problem, bungie has never recognised any fanfics by Murph, Wolverfrog, MaxRealFlugel or anyone else.

  • 08.23.2009 2:20 AM PDT

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