Title: The High WayStory Type: Short Story
Created by: Huka Theme: Halo, Battle for Earth
Genre: Science-Fiction, Action
Betrayal. It ran deeper than he thought. The Jiralhanae in the Human city weren’t on their own. All of the Jiralhanae were aiming to exterminate the Sangheili on Earth. Nay, beyond. He heard the communications, he have heard the rage of battles and hate. The speech made…
Truth was the ultimate deceiver. The gall that the Captain made from his bloodied teeth. Rtuvo tried thrice...but it was the same answer. Truth have betrayed the Sangheili. For all of their devotion and sacrifice, his people has become a mere trinket to be swept for a prettier one. Obedient, sniveling baroka. It made his stomach turn in the worst ways and more so, he felt alone.
That was three cycles ago and the system’s singular star was making its arch for its summit on the odd azure skies. The Humans have fought hard to route the scum in their city and he caught note of a Imp squad prowling its way as well. The former guard made note to avoid them at the time being. Especially with this youngling in arm. The stone-faced warrior prowled on the outskirts of the city, the New Mombasa, with his charge in tow. It was died and there was no human left to collect it. Him, as Rtuvo learned. His eyes glanced down at the child - no more larger than a Sangheili mewling at their tenth Sanghelios rotation - and continued on.
Why did he decide to save him, the warrior didn’t quite understand yet. It was him or the Jiralhanae, the choice was obvious and Rtuvo personally didn’t have any more animosity for these resilient little creature than the Unggoy. They had the misfortune to be ignorant of the Way of the Forerunner and condemned for their blatant disrespect for the technology that they found. Sangheili, once upon a time and still do, were avid to such a thing. Punishable by death alone, the San’Shyuum moreso. Thus, the Humans’ extermination was clear. He have been in a few skirmishes and operations, but he had no upmost holy of hatreds.
He was a warrior, not a pet nor slave. Jiralhanae had the pleasure to be murdering the helpless, if they weren’t spared such a fate by ritualistic glassing.
Now. Unlike the Humans, the Jiralhanae has committed one of the greatest sins to the Sangheili. Betrayal. They and their San’Shyuum masters, now all they can hope from his people is if they deliver a swift death. By plasma bolt or blade. Upon his musing, The disavowed commando strides through the puddles of recent rains. His taken cloak of fabric from a raided storehouse called
Apu’s Fabrics served its purpose well enough, kept the shivering youngling mostly dry. Surprisingly, he didn’t give much trouble. Obeyed what he was told, maybe self-preservation or fear of what Rtuvo will do if he disobeyed, either or it worked for the commando.
Haaarrrhh! Both of them aimed their eyes towards the skies, two Banshee reconnaissance fliers zipped overhead with their characteristic screams from their anti-gravital pods. Instantly, by the flick to his helmet’s internal controls, the two melted away by the light-blending camouflage of his stealth generator before racing towards the arching highway for good cover. The fliers made a immediately separation, arcing their way in opposite positions before diving for the road now. Twin bolts of fuel rod projectiles flying with sheer intentions.
However, Rtuvo was fast. His iron-muscled legs carried his over eight feet of pure muscle and armoured weight with speed excelling anything a human could hope to achieve naturally. His taloned feet propelling him forever in long-legged bounds, the blessing of his elevated stealth generators sparing him the faulty degradation of lesser armour camouflage that would have exposed him in ticks. The washing heat of weaponized radiation hit his back, almost peeling the nigh-invisibility on his back, but the Sangheili didn’t stop. He can’t stop!
He could feel fingers grabbing at his plating tight and the body clenched harder in his arm’s fold. The cover of the highway was so close, yet felt so far. The screams of the banshee fliers were closing in fast. Jiralhanae were relentless and he knew what they might try. The barbaric things that they were.
Quickly shifting one way, a line of explosive plasma bolts raked where he was at. Boiling scars hissing into the concrete road. His head twitched back once, the barest glance and instantly, Rtuvo’s body moved into a wild impracticality of martial romanticism. Right behind, one of the banshee was speeding straight at his back. Spinning on a foot, the commando used the hectic momentum to flip head over heel at the passing vehicle. In one clean motion, the Sangheili’s free arm swung. Fingers clenching and summoned the baptizing twin-blades of his energy sword. The burning plasma sliced through the Banshee hide as it cleaved itself along.
Landing into a tight crouch with his sword out, Rtuvo looked back to see the banshee lose its hanging cockpit top in one direction and its wing into the another. Its exposed pilot was sliced into his side, limp and uncontrolled as his vehicle lurched and exploded into the top of the highway. The blossom of blue and orange fires instantly smothered by the falling debris of crushing stone.
His nerves were shaking, body shivering and adrenaline-hastened pants were barely noticed by the former guard. Inwardly chastising himself, it was reckless and had a chance out of a thousand to have worked with his current condition. Damnation to the Prophets that kept him from the constant training of live combat and missions. Eyes flicked about for the other Banshee - it was speeding off to the distance now - before quickly making a different move. Jumping over the end of the road with a rough landing to the running waterway.
No doubt, the scouts had alarm any local patrols that a Sangheili was still alive by now...and made this expedition much more difficult.
“That...was cool.” The youngling noted. This caused Rtuvo to blink his third eyelids, glancing down at the other as the camouflage shut off. Those wide green eyes stared up at in awe to the warrior.
“No. It was not.” He said with a gruff imitation of the alien language, shaping his maw to form certain words carefully. The after-flanging vocals rattled a bestial sneer through the audio filters. “This region’s heat is becoming insufferable with this moisture.”
The human knitted his brow to that before his slightly gaped teeth appeared on what the Sangheili identified at an odd upward-cornered snarl of his own, followed by a snarl and nervous laugh.
“No. Cool like...um...i-impressive.” The Sangheili’s helmed head cocked in a way.
“Ah. Then yes. It was.” The two walked in silence for the sparse jungle ahead. In the distance, a small number of phantoms slid over the canopy and even further, the looming slide of a Human frigate before a crackling storm.
