HALO 2: An exchange of hats

The Elites are done for. Regret’s murder has propelled us to the heights we have craved.

Soon, the Holy Ones will give us the word and we will rise up against the Elites, but for now, we take their place.

Heretics, every one of them. Pah! Religious words for a necessary eradication. If only the Prophets knew what Tartarus was planning.

Us Brutes are lining up, preparing to march out to the Prophets’ inner sanctum entryway and relieve the current guard. My belly aches for this moment.

“Brutes, advance.” The call is out. We march forward onto the skyway. The Elite Honour Guards turn their heads as we approach them. They know what is coming.

They remove their helmets, drop their spears, remove armour, and off they slink to their quarters.

Brute brothers are fighting each other for the discarded relics, brutal punches are swung, the air is thick with betrayal. It’s glorious. The Brutes are in ascendance.

The scrabbling for Honour Guard positions isn’t even interrupted by the Arbiter’s arrival. He stares us down disapprovingly. Arrogant beast. Your armour won’t save you from the fires.

I stand next to my brothers lining the skyway to the Prophets. We are the protectors now. The Elites will soon be cast out, and nothing will stand in our way.

They will heading on their Great Journey earlier than they ever could have planned. Fools. 

HALO 2: Not even me

It all happened so quickly, I’m not even sure how they missed it coming towards me. Those vile Brutes, always be mindful of those so quick to betray another species.

I was assured the Elites would merely be cast out, not murdered in their droves. But for power, I lusted for power. For the final end of all others, of the Ark’s salvations from the Flood and the destruction we wrought.

I yearned for Halo’s cleansing flames to absolve me of my sins. But there is no salvation here. A regretful being am I. Mercy was my name, I gave none even though I craved it the most. Ironies of a wasted life.

All of the most careful planning and faith in the Path has led me to this point, clutching my neck as a Parasite digs its tendrils deeper. I will not yield to it. I will not give it the satisfaction.

Truth, Regret and I. We plotted and preyed, twisted and betrayed, and for what?

Regret is dead. Truth has betrayed me, the Elites. It’s all gone, dust to the winds. Tartarus was called from my side as he reached to save me. I am alone on this landing pad, suffering the failures of my grand designs.

The Great Journey waits for no one, not even me.

The Demon strides to my side, staring in the direction of the departing ships.

“Your pal, where’s he going?” His faceless visor stares down at me.

My last gasps of clean air, choked only by the Parasite’s tendrils allow me a parting shot: “Earth...to finish what started. And this time...none of you will be left behind.”

He pulls the Parasite from my neck, but the damage is already done. A scream is all I can manage before the end.

Truth’s last words ring in my head: “The Great Journey waits for no one, brother. Not even you.”

Not even me, and for once Truth wasn’t lying. 

HALO 2: Threatening stars

Clouds of dirt and brick fragments fill the air, ricocheting off of armour plates and shattering visors. Pvt. Dodgshon is running full speed towards what he hopes will be good cover from the advancing horde.

He slams into the brick work of the wall, rolling back slightly as he realises he’s landed on a fallen trooper’s dead body. He pulls himself onto his knees and edges close to the wall, trying to pull his head into his body as he does so.

Plasma scoring marks the entire top of his piece of cover, and it’s as if a hail of blue fire is erupting from the sky above him. He lifts his rifle over his head and fires blindly into the horde on the other side of the wall. He hits nothing, but there’s a lull in the fire.

He looks back towards his own lines and sees several troopers screaming at each other and pointing at something beyond the wall. Dodgshon fires blindly over the wall again, and once more receives no return fire. He edges himself closer to the wall, and moves up to look over the top.

Wraiths, their iridescent armour reflecting the sun’s light, are advancing as the Covenant forces pull back. There’s hundreds of them, gliding forward towards the troopers desperately trying to hold Reach. Their barrels raise into the air and they fire their parabolic plasma projectiles as one. Dodgshon stares into the sky as the plasma slowly arcs towards his comrades, blue fire shining in a fully-lit sky. Their impact on the ground is deafening and awesomely destructive.

Dodgshon barely makes it to the ground to shield his face from the blasts. He hears the whirring chaos of approaching Wraiths and screams in pain as the wall he’s hiding behind begins to crumble on top of him. The last things he sees are tiny stars of daylight shining through the collapsed rubble above him. 

***

This week's blog was inspired by Halo rather than based on anything particular. I missed this Saturday's update due to a bad soft-shell crab (seriously!). Normal service will resume on Wednesday morning. Thanks. 

HALO 2: Cairo inbound

Nervous twitching among the Grunts at the front of the landing craft. Suspicious amounts of human presence around this supposedly uninhabited world. But we place our faith in the Prophets and the promise of the Great Journey.

The journey to this system was planned as a routine search for artefacts left behind by the Forerunners. Now we find ourselves facing a huge Human fleet and orbital defence networks.

Simple plan. Waves of landing craft hit the orbital defence stations. One carries a bomb into the main hanger, the others are distractions to draw the defenders away from it. We’re one of the distractions.

30 seconds out. Grunts adjust their packs. Jackals check their shields. Us Elites get behind them and marshal the troops. Two of the other orbital defence stations explode, rocking our craft. Time for some choice words.

“Stay strong, keep your sights clear. Inflict as much damage as possible. We know we are here as facilitators of the Great Journey. Salvation awaits us all.”

10 seconds out. Docking claws unleash themselves from their housing. The troops go into a ready stance.

Docking claws engaged. “Engage the enemy.”

We pour out of the landing craft’s exit and into the hanger, there’s a fire fight already going on. Another landing craft hit right before we did. Our feet hit metal, we scatter, firing as we do so.

Green armour hits the deck in front of me. The Demon is here! I die for the Great Journey.