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  • Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 37 available!) ~ 6th March
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 37 available!) ~ 6th March

*

"No weapons," Kronus dictated, throwing aside the spiker blades affixed to his belt. Orpheus did likewise, and both stripped almost bare save for a covering over their lower area. It was painfully clear that Orpheus was the weaker Jiralhanae in every aspect; Kronus was taller, more muscular and his paws ended in claws almost as long as Pel's entire handspan.

I doubt this shall end in our favour, Pel worried, looking across at Grymar'ee and seeing he'd have no help there; the old fool still lay on the ground, his breathing as shallow as his personality. Pel still had the plasma rifle in his hand, but one of Kronus' Jiralhanae had been tasked with watching over him whilst the two Jiralhanae engaged.

And even should the one called Orpheus win, what would that mean for them? Pel did not know who he was, and in his experience men did not risk their lives for the sake of someone they did not have business with. And lately, business usually meant someone wanted him dead.

A bloody mess, he decided, thinking on his whole sorry situation as Kronus and Orpheus both assessed each other and issued the mandatory pre-battle growls and curses. A week ago I was one of the most powerful men in the empire, the surgical knife of the prophets. Now I am a man hunted by beasts.

Pel knew all the men loyal to him were dead, or they would have come by now. Probably torn apart by the Jiralhanae. Or maybe they'd never been loyal after all, and had run at the first sight of protuding canines. It was just him now, and he had to figure out a way to get out of this.

He decided to let the duel between the two Jiralhanae would-be-chieftains pan out, and from there he would take an appropriate course of action. Whatever the outcome, he did not intend to be taken captive, and he certainly did not intend to die.

No, he'd make it out of this and then he'd leave High Charity forever. But not before paying the hierarchs back for their betrayal.

A sudden wave of growls, and adrenaline bled out into the air. It was starting. A rough hand pushed him forward, out of the way but where he could still watch. In his captor's other paw, Grymar'ee was held tightly by the neck.

Orpheus and Kronus began the elaborate ritual before duels of such nature. Each bowed low to the ground in their opponent's direction, and they cried a small prayer for each other's souls. Pel had always thought it to be a remarkably respectful gesture for such a savage people.

It didn't last long. One of Kronus' pack yelled out a harsh, foreign word, and immediately all acts of respect were done away with. Two hands clasped together in a bow reached out, and they rushed towards each other at a staggering speed. Pel winced when they smashed into each other, head against head and all the bulk of the Jiralhanae thrown against each other - the sound of snapping bones whipped about, but if either combatant felt it neither showed any sign of pain. They drew off, each assessing where the other had been injured the most. Pel saw no indicators, but he lacked the heightened senses of the Jiralhanae; Orpheus evidently had found a weak spot, and suddenly charged again and lashed out with a heavy hand at Kronus' leg. It buckled a little, and the blow sent Kronus on the backpedal, roaring hatefully at Orpheus.

Had Pel been dished out such an attack, he would have been far more cautious. Kronus didn't seem to heed the lesson, and soon enough the two were trading blows again; the fight could have been an eponym for the slanderous term 'brute' so many gave their kind.

As he watched more closely though, Pel saw differences in their fighting style. Kronus was powerfully built even for a Jiralhanae, and his stature was reflected in the way he fought - there was no thought to his attacks, he simply used his size and strength to batter away at Orpheus, and allowed blows to bounce off his muscled shell. Conversely, Orpheus battled more with a technique Pel could appreciate; the man had obviously been given martial arts training, demonstrated clearly as Orpheus wove between the lumbering strikes and dealt his own small but precise ones, like water seeping through the cracks in rock.

He heard a stirring to his right, and saw Grymar'ee beginning to come back from the brink. A matting of blood encrusted his face like a river of frozen amethysts, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. Still, that was little compared to the two Jiralhanae the man had dropped forever but he'd finally been subdued. One of the Jiralhanae noticed Grymar'ee's awakening and loosely wrapped a hand around his neck, ready to tighten at the first sign of trouble.

Well... if he's alive, I may as well use him, Pel decided, seeing Grymar'ee staring at him. He nodded at the duel between the two Jiralhanae, and then signalled for the man to wait until it was over before acting at all. Grymar'ee gave the barest of nods, and flexed one of his hands.

They wouldn't have to wait long. The fever of the pack was intensifying, and when Pel looked over he saw Kronus' strength winning out over Orpheus' tenacity. The smaller Jiralhanae was backing away with a limp, barely warding off blows. Both had their fur streaked with a dark vermilion, but Pel suspected most of it was Orpheus'.

Then it happened; the broken point. A sickening crunch broke the sound of the mob as Kronus grabbed Orpheus by the ragged fur of his chest, and brought the crown of his head crashing down onto his foe's face; Orpheus dropped almost instantly, and the pack cried out with the sound of victory.

Kronus turned to face his brothers, arms raised in victory. They all threw their heads to the heavens and began chanting together, like a pack of wolves at full moon. Pel and Grymar'ee's own Jiralhanae didn't join it, but they seemed distracted.

Now's as good a time as any, Pel thought, about to signal Grymar'ee to act and begin their attempt to escape; one that would most like end in vain. But he was cut off by the sudden whisper of a stir from Orpheus, the faintest shaking of a limb. None of the Jiralhanae noticed it, not even when against all the odds Orpheus began to rise to his feet and slowly stalk his way towards the unsuspecting Kronus.

Pel heard a sudden gasp before him, and saw the Jiralhanae watching over him gaping at Orpheus as he shuffled towards the still-crowing Kronus. Before his gaoler could shout a warning to his pack-leader, Pel parsed his hand together and whirled around, jabbing the hulking beast in its thick throat. Whatever cry had been about to release was strangled as the Jiralhanae's larynx collapsed in on itself. Pel didn't give the beast time to go berserk with adrenaline, wrapping his arms around the choking brute's head and sharply twisting. There was a snap, and that was that.

He looked over and saw Grymar'ee had done the same, his own Jiralhanae gaoler staring over at Pel with a scream of silent horror. Their scuffle had attracted the attention of the rest of the pack, who stared over at them with shock for a few moments. Their surprise didn't last long though, as they all drew out their weapons and began to march towards them, teeth fully protuding.

And then Orpheus reached Kronus. It was over before the larger Jiralhanae even knew what was happening; Orpheus bared his claws and plunged the entire length of his arm through Kronus' back, his hand travelling upwards and exiting through the throat. There Kronus stood frozen in time for a few nightmarish seconds, like a bizarre sculpture. Then Orpheus removed his arm, and his foe dropped instantly.

"Never turn your back on an enemy until he is buried and rotting," Orpheus mocked as he raised his hand, the severed spine of Kronus dangling from it and wrapped in bloodied entrails. Kronus' pack stopped their advance towards Pel and Grymar'ee, and instead turned to face their new packmaster.

Now they're his, Pel knew, and didn't feel any better for it. Whatever this Orpheus wanted with them, he doubted it was anything good.

"Apprehend them," Orpheus commanded, pointing at himself and Grymar'ee, confirming his suspicions. "No blood."

Pel looked over at Grymar'ee and they shared a glance, looking at the exit of the tunnel a hundred metres away. If they could reach it, then they could lose themselves in the labyrinth of broken buildings. But Jiralhanae were much faster than Sangheili.

"No," one of the other Jiralhanae spoke, and Pel was momentarily distracted from his own worry. He looked to see a Jiralhanae with midnight-black fur move out from the tightly clustered pack, to confront Orpheus. "You do not rule us."

"I won the challenge!" Orpheus growled, eyes like sabres. "Should you wish to challenge me, then you may do so... tomorrow. You know you cannot contest moments after a victory, it is not our way. Until then, I am your leader!"

"Our way is dead. It served us well on the homeworld, but we can be so much more now. Tradition means nothing, nor does winning a challenge. You are not our leader, Orpheus," the black Jiralhanae spat, and then looked over at his fellow pack-mates. "Kill them all."

The Jiralhanae fanned out to meet all all of them, bringing up their aggressive spikers with fingers on the trigger. They fired.

Then the skies erupted, and the world went to hell.

  • 06.23.2012 6:02 AM PDT

*

Sorran stepped away from the engine controls, his job done.

This is madness, he thought. But I can see no other way to rescue Savara and honour Restraint's last wishes, not with the blockade He pressed his fingers to his temples and prepared himself for the jolt that was to come.

It turned out to be more than a jolt.

*

A thunderclap of sound destroyed all other noise in the district, and Ahkrin felt sick as he felt the space around him contort and pull. It was a feeling he knew well, but not one he'd ever expected to feel now. A white blinding light flashed across his eyes, and all his senses were overloaded as the void spilled into reality, and a numb pain gripped him in its vice.

Suddenly, all sensation returned in a violent lurch. Ahkrin found himself on his knees, blood dripping from his nose and head feeling as though it had been battered about for hours. He checked the time on his augmented display; it had been hours. He'd been out cold a long time. He looked to his left and saw Jeann'ee sprawled on his back, coughing.

"A void jump," Ahkrin wheezed out, struggling to recover the wind that had been knocked out of him. He looked up, and realised what had happened. "No impulse shield. This wasn't planned."

Someone must have sabotaged the station's impulse drives. Why?

"Ahkrin," was all he heard from Jeann'ee, who had managed to rise to his feet and was shakily pointing somewhere up in the skies, far behind him. "Look."

Ahkrin scrambled to his feet, and followed Jeann'ee finger; his head tilted, and he saw it just as the screams and panicking broke out across the district. Sanghelios was gone. Another planet hung in the sky, one he knew well. One he had not seen in many cycles.

"Harvest," he breathed, but that wasn't what Jeann'ee was gaping at. It was the human fleet hanging in the sky before it. "There are dozens of them... why are they here? I thought they abandoned this planet long ago."

"We have no fleet," Jeann'ee gasped, and he was right. When High Charity had jumped, it had not brought Zharn's fleet with it. They were defenceless aside from the meagre mounted defences of the station, and unless they jumped again the entire holy city would be wiped out.

"We need to move," Ahkrin decided. "Double time."

"What good will the dreadnought do us if we die?" Jeann'ee demanded, grabbing Ahkrin's shoulders and looking at him as if he were insane. "We need to find a way off this station, before it takes us with it."

"Not before we've spoken to the Oracle. If you want to abandon me now, then do so. I thought you made of sterner stuff," Ahkrin jeered, knowing full well the effect the taunt would have on him.

"You've never met anyone sterner," Jeann'ee pouted resolutely, hurrying behind him. "But don't think I'll be saving you when the demons come raining down in their meteors."

"Where's your faith?" Ahkrin retorted ironically. "The Oracle will protect us all."

  • 06.23.2012 6:03 AM PDT
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 38 available!) ~ 23 June

*

<Quarters of the Hierarch Regret, High Charity.>

"Hierarch! You need to wake up."

Regret was slow to stir from beneath his quilts and duvets, made of rich fabrics from the most exotic corners of the empire. Not matter how many times he saw it, Amn always thought it -blam!- when he saw the noble prophet without his robes and headpiece of office; he looked just like any other member of his ugly race, albeit leaner through battle and exercise. A young woman lay in bed next to him, asleep; no doubt one of his many concubines. She did not rouse.

"Amn. What is it?" Regret asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from his drooping eyes. His familiarity was nothing new, but it still made Amn feel uncomfortable; Obligation had never addressed him by his birth-name - it had always been 'guard' or 'light.' Now was not the time for pointless protests, though.

"You're required in the council chambers for an emergency meeting. Truth and Mercy are already there, as are all the high councillors. Come, quickly."

Amn was already moving to open the door, taking care not to let his ornate cloak catch on any of Regret's many tomes - Covenant and human alike. The latter were banned throughout all the empire, but the laws did not apply to those who made them.

"Wait. What's happening?" Regret asked after him, hearing the urgency in Amn's voice and garbing himself hastily; Amn frowned disapprovingly and adjusted the man's crown, which was askew. At least he did not have to carry the man over to a gravity chair; Regret fought against the paraplegic ails that so often plagued his kind, training every day - at best he was as strong as an average kig-yarl, but it meant he could walk with a straight back and fight too; he was admired by many Sangheili for his dedication to dignity.

"High Charity jumped while you slept, hierarch. Jumped to... Harvest. We're in danger."

"Harvest?" Regret demanded with indignation. "Who sanctioned this? We do not take the holy city to areas of risk--"

"It wasn't sanctioned," Amn explained, knowing they should already have been on their way to the council chambers. "Someone sabotaged the auxiliary impulse drives... it'll be a long time before the Huragok can jump us again."

"Damn that Ossoona's incompetence... it has to be them," Regret muttered, and Amn frowned. He knew better than to question any of the hierarch's frequent mumbling though.

"There's a human fleet by the planet, hierarch, and Thierr'ee's fleet wasn't in our sphere of influence when we void-jumped. A hail has been sent to the garrison at the nearest colony, but they will take time... High Charity--"

"She moves faster through the void than standard ships, by the grace of the Forerunners," Regret finished. He nodded. "We must make haste to the council chambers, Amn. Guard me well as we walk, on this day I trust not a single shadow."

They left through the door swiftly, and hastened down the long corridor of Regret's mansion. On the way Regret paused to stare out of the window and look at the skies around High Charity; his heavy brow furrowed with worry when he saw the human fleet, which hadn't moved to engage yet. No small wonder; High Charity was a behemoth amongst starships, they would never have seen anything of its ilk.

"What of the home flotilla?" Regret asked Amn quietly as they moved, and too slowly for his liking. He would not dare suggest he carry the hierarch on his back to quicken their progress.

"Already being mobilised," Amn informed him. "But with all respect, they will not be enough."

"Of course not," Regret dismissed. "Not against an entire human fleet. They will buy us time, but we need a greater power if we're to survive this."

Amn knew what he meant, and it was not a new suggestion; when he had left the council chambers, there had been murmuring amongst the San 'Shyuum of the same intent. Even sworn as he was to serve the hierarchs, Amn could not hear such an extreme statement and keep his peace. He stopped and looked into Regret's eyes to convey his sincerity.

"That cannot happen," he told Regret. "Hierarch you may be, but the Writ is greater than all three of you together; its doctrine unquestionable. The Sangheili High Councillors will never agree--"

"There has been a precedent," Regret argued. "In the 3rd Age of Disharmony, when the false Prophet of Cabal led his army of traitors to seize High Charity, the council met and debated over whether to give the dreadnought back its weapons--"

"And it took three days whilst the councillors argued, at which point Cabal had already laid siege to half the city," Amn countered just as readily. "Not to mention that it was finally done without the majority consent of the council, and the three hierarchs who ordered it were forced to step down afterwards."

"Then I will force the council to accept my plan," Regret decided. "The Writ be damned, over twenty million lives are at risk! If I should step down as hierarch afterwards, then so be it."

"Truth will not so readily surrender his power as you," Amn mentioned in conspirator's tones. Regret looked at him with an odd mixture of agreement and discomfort.

"My brother hierarch will do what is right. As you said, the Writ is greater than all three of us. If we break its accord, then we must stand down. It is the law."

"Do not be so sure. He would do anything to maintain his position," Amn shot back, and he could tell Regret knew this.

"It is not your place to say. It is our only option. Our only defence."

"I cannot in good faith as your adviser and loyal servant allow you to carry out with this folly without--"

"You're a good friend, Amn, but on this matter I will hear no objections," Regret finished as they reached the exit of the mansion. A dozen regular honour guards surrounded him in a tight box, and an executive transport awaited a few metres away. "I will not require your presence at the council chambers. Make sure my son is safe."

"As you command, hierarch, yet there is not much I can do once the humans break through High Charity's shield and start raining down fire upon the city."

"Just keep him safe, Amn," Regret pleaded, a father's worry about his eyes. "You know how much he means to me."

"And me, hierarch," Amn affirmed. "I have watched over him since that night--"

Regret shot him a stern look which silenced him, but nodded all the same and gave him a smile. Then the hierarch turned his back and strode towards the transport, leaving Amn standing in the early morning cold.

'My son,' he says. I suppose Regret is all the father the boy will ever know, now that man is dead.

Amn looked up and saw the human fleet again, a host of black angels gathered about a frozen hell. It would not be so long before they moved to engage. He shuddered, and not for the briskness of the morning. The dreadnought loomed fiercely in the distance, and the reasons it had first been disarmed swam about his mind.

To fight a war of men with the weapons of gods. It is blasphemy. Regret speaks truly though; if we do not use the dreadnought's power, High Charity is doomed. Forerunners forgive our heresy.


[Edited on 07.29.2012 2:12 AM PDT]

  • 06.23.2012 6:03 AM PDT
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 37 available!) ~ 6th March

THIS IS HALO!And Pizza FTW!!!

Your stories get better and better.

  • 06.23.2012 11:55 AM PDT

So well written! But if Orpheus is dead, no level of eloquence will compensate.

  • 06.23.2012 1:45 PM PDT

Why hello there.

Microwave ovens are quite large.

WORT, WORT,WORT!

-NUMS!

Hey you waited until I was on vacation. Very nice place to read.

keep up the good work,

Not that it needs said,

  • 06.23.2012 3:29 PM PDT

yas334229812

Yay

  • 06.23.2012 3:59 PM PDT

Incredible work! I must admit, the scene with the Sangheili apparently having the same [sexual] anatomy as us took a little suspension of disbelief, but anything else would have been even weirder I suppose.

I also like how Regret isn't a total ass in this fic, that wasn't really ever touched upon in the series.

  • 06.23.2012 5:27 PM PDT

Amazing, as always! The only thing that could make this story better is taking away the wait!
Oh, by the way, female sangheili don't actually have breasts, and the guys dicks are usually kept hidden... Kinda like dogs actually... Other that that, completely acurate.
I liked how you described the fight too, very suspenseful...

  • 06.23.2012 7:11 PM PDT

The tide is turning, brothers! Let us take our kingdom back!

The wait is over at last! Incredible stuff. Your characters have been through so much now, it's hard to believe they have anything left to go on.

  • 06.24.2012 6:28 PM PDT
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Simply marvelous!

  • 06.25.2012 7:25 PM PDT

Current members of the Gnome Empire:
Fridge Gnome
Freezer Gnome
Blender Gnome
Oven Gnome
Da Chrome Gnome
Zomb1e Gnome

But what about the ANTENNAE! Wolvers?

  • 06.26.2012 2:37 AM PDT
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 38 available!) ~ 23 June
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KEEP IT CLEAN!

Great, as ever! I'm really looking forward to the next part, and am beginning to appreciate the wait: it's well worth it!

I also liked Regret's character, slightly different to that portrayed in the "canon" books, but still believable.

Keep up the great work! So glad to be seeing such good Sangheili-centred writing.

  • 06.29.2012 5:45 AM PDT

Am I supposed to write something funny here?

Epic stuff!

BTW, did I see a LotR/meme reference there?

ETA on the next part?

  • 06.29.2012 1:46 PM PDT


Posted by: Gamer Whale
BTW, did I see a LotR/meme reference there?


Haha, yeah. I watched the extended editions for the first time a few weeks ago and decided to sneak it in. I think there's also a line from a Stereophonics song in the chapter too.

Next part will be some time since it'll hopefully wrap up book two, but I'll try make haste.

[Edited on 06.29.2012 4:18 PM PDT]

  • 06.29.2012 3:37 PM PDT

Why hello there.

Microwave ovens are quite large.

WORT, WORT,WORT!

-NUMS!

Haste= 2 months.

But take you time. its worth it.

  • 07.01.2012 11:40 AM PDT
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Halo multiplayer sucks!

Based on campaigns

Halo 2 > Halo 3 ODST > Halo 3 > Reach/CE tied

Fantastic!

  • 07.02.2012 2:20 PM PDT


Posted by: Serj
Is the story over? Or are you still writing it up?


No, I decided to end it after establishing a big crisis that's going to change everything happening on High Charity. Could there be a better fitting conclusion?

Honestly.

  • 07.16.2012 2:38 AM PDT
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I'm getting chills just thinking about the next chapter.

  • 07.16.2012 9:19 PM PDT

Current members of the Gnome Empire:
Fridge Gnome
Freezer Gnome
Blender Gnome
Oven Gnome
Da Chrome Gnome
Zomb1e Gnome

I still want to see how wolvers does writing the happy bed time scene with leets.

  • 07.17.2012 6:40 AM PDT

No u


Posted by: Fridge Gnome
I still want to see how wolvers does writing the happy bed time scene with 1337s.
Fix'd

  • 07.18.2012 2:42 PM PDT
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 37 available!) ~ 6th March

“I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that's really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.”

I'm expecting a good read Wolver. I'll split your latest post in sections to read when I'm bored. (:

  • 07.20.2012 12:16 AM PDT