The Gallery
This topic has moved here: Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 23 available!) ~ 27th October
  • Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 23 available!) ~ 27th October
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 23 available!) ~ 27th October

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.

Jesus, what the hell happened here?

Anyway, ignoring recent events: Yes, I think you should write your new Fanfic. Not only am I sure it will be entertaining, but as someone (Mr Evil?) stated earlier, if you get bored, blockish (yay, new word!) or stuck on a story you can always go and write your other one. Go for it.
However, I don't think you should sink back into three simultaneous stories.

  • 11.17.2010 3:43 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.

Oops, double post.

[Edited on 11.17.2010 3:46 AM PST]

  • 11.17.2010 3:46 AM PDT

POMC S117 Owns owns

Love this story. Wolverfrog, again you pull off all the stops and make this amazing.

  • 11.19.2010 3:14 PM PDT

Wolver's taking longer than usual on this one.

  • 12.06.2010 11:50 AM PDT

Posted by: vI RaGeZ Iv
Wolver's taking longer than usual on this one.


He's been playing in the snow.

  • 12.06.2010 2:27 PM PDT

darn the icy cold water flakes

  • 12.06.2010 2:30 PM PDT

Sorry that the wait has been so very long, I've been up to my neck in exams over the past few months. They're out of the way until the end of January now, and I should be able to start posting chapters on a more regular basis.

It may not be the quickest, but I'll keep writing until the very end.


Part 24 - Breaking free

"You underestimated him."

"I know that!" Truth snapped at his fellow hierarch, wheeling around and glaring at the ancient face of Mercy.

"Does this really matter? It was hardly an important decision. Eridanus II will be receiving reinforcements, I do not see the major issue," Regret replied loftily, polishing the handle of his treasured plasma pistol with an absent-minded expression.

Smack!

The pitiful slap of Truth struck Regret in the face, and shock registered more than pain. Regret sat down, staring up at the livid Truth, whose usually calm and collected manner had completely broken down. Regret hadn't seen him this angry since when Truth first discovered that another knew the secret of the sacred rings.

"Restraint has challenged us on this; he could challenge us on anything, you puppet fool! This is all your fault; if you hadn't told him of what the Oracle told us then none of this would be happening. One failure after another with you, Regret, the most recent being the loss of the Forerunner fleet that could have ended this nightmare of a war in a single sweep!"

The words stung more than the strike had, and Regret winced. Mercy was watching the scene with a tired expression, and finally decided to intervene.

"Enough. What's done is done, and arguing shall get us no where. So Restraint has finally come out of hiding; what of it? We simply kill him."

"It's not that simple, Mercy," Truth answered in a gentler tone. Regret could see that Truth respected Mercy, but respect did not equate to friendship where Truth was concerned. The fact of the matter was that none of them were friends. All were tied together by the titles and knowledge they shared in an unbreakable bond, but all that did was make the dislike more apparent.

"Because he is a High Councillor? Yes, you are right. Were he to suddenly turn up dead, all of High Charity would be in uproar. Investigations would be conducted and some small trace of evidence would be found linking the killing to us."

"Then what if he weren't a High Councillor?" Regret asked simply, half-expecting another strike from Truth.

"If he weren't then his death would be scrutinised far less closely," Mercy added, inclining his aged head which threatened to buckle his serpentine neck towards Regret in acknowledgement. Truth studied both of them, before smiling broadly.

"Nobody cares about the life of a heretic. But how would we go about bringing him down to this level? The Minister is a popular man amongst the people."

"There's always a way, Truth. It may take time, but we will find a way."

* * * * * * * * * *

"My knowledge of human systems is limited, but this isn't an elevator," Ahkrin told the human guard accompanying him, shifting a little nervously, the heavy, solid steel restraints holding his limbs still paining him as he did so. Then, suddenly--

Thud!

Ahkrin found himself staring at the ground, a few seconds lost and blood trickling openly from his nose. His eyes swam as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Before he could, he was rolled over by the male marine (who was large for a human) and staring down the sight of a barrel.

Again. Was there something about him which made people want to kill him?

"That senescent fool Cole wants us all to treat you like honoured guests," the marine spat, a feral snarl creeping across his face and murder leaping into his bruised, bloodshot eyes. The human lifted a heavy boot.

Snap!

Ahkrin howled in pain as several bones in his right leg crunched under the weight of the boot. There was nothing else at that point in time; no marine pointing a gun at him, no cramped hallway, no blood pouring down his face.

Just sheer agony.

When the world returned, reluctantly, Ahkrin was pressed up against the hull of the ship and treated to the harsh, heavy breathing of the marine as he was glared at in the face. Unwillingly, Ahkrin could not help but glimpse at his leg, which was gnarled and twisted like a burnt tree.

"But I remember that you're the enemy. And if you live today, tomorrow more of us will be killed by you," the marine continued, swiftly dealing Ahkrin a solid blow in the stomach with a gauntleted hand, as if he was not content with the level of pain the Sangheili was already at.

"Help!" Ahkrin shouted down the hallway over the marine's shoulder, hoping that the female captain who had left him in this insane marine's murderous hands a few minutes ago would be able to hear him, or that anyone would.

The only response he received was a heavy-handed blow to the mouth by the human.

"No one can hear you. It's just me, you, and the cushy little airlock to the left of us."

"Airlock? And there was me hoping it was a storage cupboard," Ahkrin answered sarcastically through the pain and fuchsia blood.

Keep him talking Ahkrin, and get him angry, Ahkrin thought to himself, absently wondering why he kept thinking in third person. Angry people made mistakes.

"Shut it!" the marine bellowed, bringing out his weapon and levelling it at Ahkrin's left kneecap. He hesitated for only a moment before firing. The process of the gun leaving the chamber seemed slow to Ahkrin. He could feel the bullet sweep the air around it away, and heard the metal round pierce the flesh of his knee before smashing into bone, before--

Nothing. The pain was so intense and sudden that his mind simply could not handle it. Ahkrin heard the bone crunch, saw the bullet fly through to the other side, and smelt the blood as it gushed out, plastering the wall behind.

But he felt none of it. Ahkrin, urged on by some deep, primal instinct that must have kept his ancestors moving through the brutal winters of Sangheilios and helped them triumph over the savage beasts that had once been native to the land. The world around him seemed to slow down as he took a step forward impossibly on his broken leg, before bringing up his arms and driving them into the chest of the mortified human with the force of a Sharquoi, sending the marine's fragile form flying against the wall.

The man who had tried to kill Ahkrin stared at him for a few seconds, eyes bulging on a head attached to his twisted neck. His mouth opened as if he were trying to utter some final, bitter curse, but all that came from his throat was a torrent of dark blood.

And then he died.

The animal rage and adrenaline which had surged through Ahkrin's broken body left along with the human's life, and Ahkrin's world exploded in pain. He cried out in raw agony, falling onto the corpse of the dead marine.

The last thing he saw before lulling into unconsciousness was the hollow eyes of the man, still burning with a fervent hatred even after death.

  • 12.16.2010 10:04 AM PDT
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 24 available!) ~ 16th December

* * * * * * * * * * *

The mutiny began soon after that. Not with violent words or an open defiance. It simply happened, as lynch mobs decided to take matters into their own hands. From there the situation escalated.

"The prisoner's injuries are grave, and I'm under orders from the Admiral not to let anyone near him," Doctor Thrace informed the crowd clustered in front of his door, voice trembling slightly. His hand hovered behind him by the red button which would summon security.

"We don't give a flying toss, Doc," the apparent head of the group answered, glaring down at Thrace, who swallowed nervously. "That split-lip killed one of our own under our damn noses, and we demand justice!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sergeant," Thrace replied, mustering his courage. "If you've got a problem, take it up with the Admiral--"

Ahkrin heard all this faintly, as if he were underwater and hearing voices above the surface. He ached all over as his eyes began to slowly open. The Sangheili was inside a small cubical, lying on a hospital bed. From the sound of it, the people speaking were some metres away, standing by the entrance to the small medical bay. They couldn't see him, yet. In the air hung the smell of primitive human chemicals they used as treatments. The voices escalated, becoming angrier and more frenzied.

"Security!" Ahkrin faintly heard one shout.

"They're behind us, Doc. On the right side. How 'bout you? You gonna let us take the scaly bastard or are we gonna have to take extreme measures?"

Ahkrin's mind finally woke up, and he was made aware of the danger that he was in. He propped himself up, stifling the gasp of pain begging to be released as best as he could. His legs were set in heavy white casts, and gingerly he tested them.

Left foot.

Pain!

After recovering from the unbearable heat surging through his body, Ahkrin realised that the leg he had been shot in was still useless. Only his right leg had healed sufficiently enough for him to stand on without nearly fainting.

"What is this, a mutiny?!" the Doctor demanded, voice growing shriller and full of fear. Ahkrin spotted what he presumed to be a crutch near his bed, and grabbed it. He experimented standing up with it, and found that he could move without collapsing.

But I'm in no state to fight who-knows-how-many healthy humans like this, Ahkrin thought to himself, knowing that he could not bludgeon his way through this situation.

Then he spotted it, gleaming on the table. A small scalpel, left out in the open for anyone to grab. The foolish Doctor had left him a weapon. Ahkrin quickly grabbed it, and slowly hobbled towards the entrance to his cubicle, posting himself at the side of it in preparation.

Finally, what he knew had been coming from the moment he had regained full awareness happened.

Smack!

The Doctor cried out in shock, before dropping heavily to the ground as the mutinying humans stepped over him. Ahkrin heard all this, using his skills to paint a mental picture of the scene. He could faintly hear the Doctor still breathing, but that might not last for long.

Why am I worried about that? He's human. Sorran's infectious sentimentally had better not be affecting me also.

He snapped back to the present. What he was about to do was foolish and all depended on the camaraderie these marines shared. But there was no other option.

"He's over here," the aggressor who had seemingly hit to doctor spoke. "I'll go get him, you take point." Ahkrin's hearts pounded as he waited for the man to enter the room.

A head peeked through the doorway, grinning maliciously as he held a taut wire in his hand. The grin turned to a puzzled frown as the human saw an empty bed. He looked around.

And Ahkrin struck.

Moving quickly and ignoring the pain, he dealt a swift and neutralising blow to the human's abdomen, knocking all the wind out of him. Pain shot through Ahkrin's body like a million needles puncturing his skin, and he struggled to suppress it. Before he could recover his breath, Ahkrin grabbed the man and held him in a tight vice grip, holding the scalpel up to his neck. The Sangheili could probably kill him without the weapon, but didn't want to chance anything in his state.

Besides, a blade held to a throat looked far more menacing.

The attack had been completely silent, something Ahkrin was proud of, especially given his condition. His hand was clamped tightly over the man's mouth, masking all but bulbous, uncomprehending eyes staring up at him with horror. Ahkrin bared his teeth and felt the man struggle slightly. He was afraid.

He could hear the humans outside the cubicle murmuring, wondering what was taking so long. Ahkrin finally decided to put the next step of his plan in gear.

"Are all you humans so easily taken hostage? I have had better tussles with a grub," Ahkrin spoke loudly, immediately inciting gasps. Slowly, he walked out, dragging the hapless human hostage along with him. He was met with wide eyed stares and levied pistols.

"Let him go," a burly security guard said, hands shaking. His behaviour was emulated throughout the rest of the group.

"Not likely my friend. Throw down your weapons."

One or two loosened their tight grasp on their pistols, but the rest hesitated. A marine finally decided to speak, stepping forward with a pitiful attempt at an unconcerned look.

"Kill him, he doesn't matter to us," she said in a tone which she hoped was nonchalant. Ahkrin let the ghost of a smile flicker across his beaten face, having detected several give-aways in the woman's words that showed him as clearly as words could that she, and therefore most likely everyone else cared about this man's well-being.

"Really? Very well then," Ahkrin answered, pressing ever so slightly with the scalpel, drawing a few drops of blood. The man stiffened, and he heard the tell-tale gasps from the others that betrayed the fact that they all cared.

"Wait," one of them spoke, his face covered by a mirrored visor. Coward. Ahkrin turned to him coolly.

"Weapons. Floor. Don't pretend that you don't understand me; in all probability I speak your language better than you do. Now comply with my commands, or this man dies."

"And then we shoot you," the security guard who had first spoken answered. "You ain't gonna kill him."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I can't... oh, I don't know," Ahkrin lazily crept a few sharp fingers (his nails needed t-blam!- direly) up the man's face, resting them below his eyes. "Perhaps gouge out his eyes? Cut out his tongue? Render all his senses useless, so that he is just a husk of a man trapped with only his own no doubt painfully droll thoughts for the rest of his life? It's your decision."

His threats were shortly met with pale, sickened faces and the clattering of weapons as they dropped to the ground. Ahkrin smiled in a macabre fashion, before nodding at a small cell in the corner of the room no doubt designed to contain those too dangerous to be treated in the open. In their arrogance, the humans hadn't thought that he'd be able to move in his state.

"Get in there, all of you. Don't make me wait."

They reluctantly moved as one into the cell, cramped and pressed up against the bars uncomfortably. Ahkrin flicked a switch on the far wall, beginning the process of shutting the cell door. At the last second, Ahkrin tore the man who was his hostage away from him and threw him into the cell too. A desperate marine lunged for the gap, trapping his fingers inside and screaming with pain as they were crushed by the heavy steel.

"Like thornbeast penned for the slaughter," Ahkrin breathed, picking up one of their discarded rifles and aiming it at them. They all shrank back, terrified. Ahkrin's finger rested on the trigger, slowly squeezed.

And stopped. Ahkrin stared at them for a second and their helpless plight, before lowering the rifle down to his side and exhaling.

"I'll let you live if you tell me what you planned to do. Is this confined?"

A female marine shook her head, unable to tear her eyes away from the heavy rifle as it was effortlessly held at Ahkrin's side like she would hold a pistol.

"Ship-wide mutiny. You're the enemy! And Admiral Cole is treating you like guests. We're sick of it, and you're all going to pay. We may not have gotten you but someone will, murdering split-lip," she spat, and Ahkrin nodded.

"We'll see about that." His attention turned next to the prone body of Doctor Thrace, and he chuckled gormlessly, indicating the body. "Perhaps next time you should remember who your allies are."

They collectively winced, and Ahkrin bent down to check the man's pulse. After a few minutes of rudimentary examinations he confirmed that the man was stable. He turned away, wondering absently why he was pleased with this discovery.

I need to get to Zharn, and quick. If there's a mutiny, they'll be going after him for sure, Ahkrin thought as he left the hospital door and entered a generic piece of the ship's hallway, picking up another rifle and holding it in his other hand as he walked, edges of the ridiculously thin medical garment swaying slightly.

We've been helpless for too long; in the chaos this mutiny will bring, it is our chance to make our escape. Perhaps I'll even get lucky and we'll end up leaving Orpheus behind.

[Edited on 12.16.2010 11:06 AM PST]

  • 12.16.2010 10:05 AM PDT
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 23 available!) ~ 27th October

Why hello there.

Microwave ovens are quite large.

WORT, WORT,WORT!

-NUMS!

Finally Wolvers, Good job too.

  • 12.16.2010 10:31 AM PDT

Great work Wolvers! It was worth the wait!

  • 12.16.2010 1:02 PM PDT

Nice one, good twist.

  • 12.18.2010 12:36 AM PDT

once agien worthy of a award

  • 12.18.2010 2:03 PM PDT
Subject: [Story] Halo: True Sangheili (Prologue and Part one up)

I love this. I appreciate the time you spent to make this.

  • 12.18.2010 10:02 PM PDT

wow. just wow. this is epicness to the max man

  • 12.22.2010 11:40 AM PDT
Subject: [Story] Halo: True Sangheili (Part Seven is up 6th September!)

I think that it's very interesting how you managed to alienate the humans in the story, making them seem strange which causes a juxtaposition between having the reader's sympathies lie with the humans in the game and with the elites in the story. Don't know if you actually intended to do that, but if you did, then job well done!

  • 12.22.2010 6:02 PM PDT

When you think about it, it's pretty ironic how you've made the humans in the story become the actual aliens when we ourselves are human too.

  • 12.22.2010 6:08 PM PDT

I did intend that, thanks for picking it up. I find it very interesting to write and make the readers sympathise with the Elites and want them to be safe, even if that means something bad for humanity, who are the usual protagonists in Halo.

  • 12.23.2010 4:46 AM PDT

"I believe that the sound of racking the pump of a shotgun is universally recognized as ‘kiss your ass goodbye’."
— Unknown Marine

nice twist wolvers hostage situation could have been improved as in more detail or play off the horror of the victim maybe dwelve deeper into Ahrkin's thoughts and bring up a memory like something in the schism like you already have to deepen his charater because right now he is a cool collected spec-op not much depth.

  • 12.28.2010 7:27 PM PDT

my eyes hurt from the sheer awsomeness that is this novel.

[Edited on 12.28.2010 11:31 PM PST]

  • 12.28.2010 9:19 PM PDT

when is the next part?

  • 01.01.2011 7:44 AM PDT

Why hello there.

Microwave ovens are quite large.

WORT, WORT,WORT!

-NUMS!

You never know with Wolvers, I usually find him on our groups chatbox and nag him until he starts writing again.

  • 01.02.2011 1:13 PM PDT

"I believe that the sound of racking the pump of a shotgun is universally recognized as ‘kiss your ass goodbye’."
— Unknown Marine


Posted by: me123456789
You never know with Wolvers, I usually find him on our groups chatbox and nag him until he starts writing again.
and that is why we all love you and care about you.


and this is your best work yet wolvers.

  • 01.03.2011 7:47 PM PDT


Posted by: Ringtail11

Posted by: me123456789
You never know with Wolvers, I usually find him on our groups chatbox and nag him until he starts writing again.
and that is why we all love you and care about you.


and this is your best work yet wolvers.
Indeed... best work yet I strained that word.
Keep on writing wolver.

P.S you ever have a problem with Trolls come find me, no im just kidding.

  • 01.04.2011 9:17 AM PDT