Post by z on May 14, 2012 5:14:30 GMT -6
*****This is non-canon, a Fanfic, get ovah it*****
He'd been called to the Super Carrier, the Commander on the other end claiming Rakath had been recommended for reward and possible addition to the council. Standing at his full height he moved down the halls, his commander armor clanking on the floor as he made his way through the long hallway to the Council Chambers.
In his hand, he held Hectus's Revolver aimed down to the floor, his Greatswords shown on his hips, under which, on a belt, duel Energy Swords, on his back an energy Staff. His full collection of Energy Weapons, along with a human Assault Rifle with many numbers of modifications such as a blade expendable from the top, and an Energy Dagger expendable from the bottom.
Tracing a hand over the glyph, he stepped in to the large council room and found himself... Alone...
Moving to the center of the room, a floating platform lifting him up into a glass overlay with chairs. Peering around the room, he blinked a few times before his paranoia took over, one hand lifted his left Greatsword. His orange eyes scanning the room once more, moving slowly to the left.
And then, suddenly, the elevator made a click, locking and a large number of Special Operators appeared form the walls, black armor to bear, and then, in the center, three Zealots.
Rakath's eyes widened.
"Rakath V'keelaii. you have been called here for your judgment of Heresy during the war." He said, a Needle Rifle coming up.
"Heresy? OUR ENTIRE RACE COMMITTED HERESY!" Rakath yelled out to the crowd. There was no response, but the Spec-Ops began to close in. Lifting his Revolver and fired a single shot in the Zealot in the center, and then two into the zealots on his left and right.
The Spec-Ops charged then. And Rakath went in to his "battle-trance".
Shooting down three Special-Operators with his Revolver, and decapitating three more, and then sheathing his Revolver and drawing his second Greatsword. Double-impaling a Special-Operator, he turned and took a Repeater blaster throwing the body forward and spinning around and slashed a Spec-Op in half at the waist.. .They just kept coming...
He slashed and cut at them in anger... and then... His Greatsword flickered and died. Letting out a roar, he threw the hilts to the sides and drew his duel regular swords, continuing his slashing. MimYaps sword and his own, cutting them down as they came. He could still hear MimYaps voice in his mind.
shaking it off he continued he attacks. Leaping in the air, he stabbed his blades into a Spec-Ops chest, his feet going into it. As the body hid the ground he leaped off and tackled yet another down and stabbed into a seconds head, when once again his weapons gave out on him and flickered to death.Throwing them down as well, he would get them back later.
Now was his staff. The heavy weapon lit up at each side as Rakath began spinning and cutting with the elegant weapon, slashing another and spinning around in a circle and cutting more at the waist or cutting out their legs.
To Rakath, everything seemed to move in slow motion. He could hear his breathing in slow motion, his heartbeat spaced more. This was a warriors fight. This was the way a Warrior felt when he had spent years of fighting...
A focus rifle blast shot through the air and his staff shut off and flew away from him. His revolver came up and shot down that said Operator, turning around and shoving the brutish blade into another Elites eyes and spinning with it, slamming it into another.
He could hear the screams, the yells of mercy, the scared remarks. Blood covered his armor, his shields flared, his mind empty. He was a monster. A Demon.
His Revolver clicked then, showing it was out of ammunition. Looking down to his belt, the ammo holding showed he had not brought more. Sheathing the amazingly reliant weapon, Rakaths trusted Assault Rifle came out, both of the blades extended as he continued to impale and shoot.
Driving the rifle into one of the heads, each of the blades and opening fire, making a hole in the top of the operators head, then turning and ramming the butt of the weapon into a second warrior. His chest heaved. Rakath was tiring...
Taking the weapon, he impaled it into a Special Operation Ultra's chest and left it that way, and now he was at his last weapons. Lighting his Energy Daggers, Rakath kept up the fighting, slashing, impaling, headbutting, kicking.
But Rakath, like many others, was normal.
And now, he was down to the last Special Operator. Grabbing the last one by the shoulder and stabbing him three times in the gut, he pushed the body back and moved to retrieve his weapons, successfully.
And as he was about to pick up his Greatsword, a Concussion rifle blast slammed into him, sending him fly and hit the wall with a grunt.
Looking up, the he saw the Zealot standing again, tossing a Concussion Rifle away and drawing a focus Rifle from the ground, opening bursts on Rakath, finally blasting through his heavy armor.
Yelling in pain, Rakath fell on his hands and knees. Forcing himself back up and lighting his left dagger, taking a blast to the shoulder. Rakath fell to his knees once more and took in a breath.
Lifting a shaky arm, he fired a single Energy Striking from his gauntlet, tearing through the air and pegging the Zelaot in the eye. He stumbled down and Rakath stood, trying to limp away, opening his comm and yelling out over all the comm channels.
"We have been betrayed! All of you, get out! Flee!" Rakath demanded.
Roma called back...
"F-father?" Roma asked, worried, her voice shaking.
"Shhh, little dove. Shh..." Rakath said, falling on his hands and knees. "Goodbye, my little warrior." Rakath said weakly.
He went over the"Commander" Comm channel and spoke out to all his fellow Heretics.
"This is... Special Operation Commander... Rakath V'keelaii. And this speech will be short." He sucked in a breath.
"I have had the honor of fighting alongside each of you... Fighting the Covenant, killing them, helping the humans, taking them over..." Rakath put his hand on his chest and fell down face first for a moment, taking in another breath.
"I have lived a long life, and you have all made me proud. All of you have made me... So honored to have served with you all... And I must say... Thank you.. But as the Fates see, I will not walk away from this... Without a stroke of luck." Taking in a long breath.
"My... Successor will be Tavise... I will see you all again... Unless this old man finds his way out." Rakath wa son his feet again and lumbering down the hallway. Flashes of everyone he had met in his journeys coming across his sight, hearing their voices in his head. Each image of their face turning to look at him with an embracing smile, or a neutral look.
"I love you, Rakath V'keelaii." Ama Romanee... His long lost love.
"It has been a pleasure to serve under you, Rakath V'keelaii." Til's younger voice said i his ear.
"Rakath. Let me try to explain this whole 'extraction' thing again...." Phma said, a haze colored image of him standing with a coffee cup.
"So. You are Rakath 'V'keelai." Legra's voice said.
"I respect a warrior of not only skill but wit, come sangheili we shall speak elsewhere?" Hectus said, his face flashing with a smart ass smirk on his face.
"Embrace death when it comes, Rakath. Not all of us get that luxury" Nhar said, his old Scarab Commander.
"I'm sure you have a plan for where to deploy your men, but I'd like to ask that you take command of the mortars I've brought down." Jente said, a flash of the battle of Kholo.
"Rakath, we can't keep the Phantom up we're going t-" Renmee said to him, standing next to his brother, Kallmee looking to him with a smirk on top of a flaming Phantom.
"It is about time, Rakath." MimYap said, Rakath looked to his left to see a vision of MimYap standing there with an approving look.
And then he saw a vision of Rama, his dark head lowered. And then they all appeared at the end of the hall. Rakath ha realized he had not even made it half-way when a sharp pain tore into his skull.
As he toppled over he got the vision of another Zealot, one he had thought dead, immediately falling dead. Rakath had a few seconds left and took in a last breath. Hearing Roma call out on the comm.
"Dad! Father PLEASE! NO!" She begged into the comm, crying.
And Rakath slipped into the cold blackness. He could feel himself move, feel water hitting him, but nothing to see. Looking up, the invisible rain fell in his eyes.
Rakath then saw a scene come before him. He saw all his memorable moments, he could reach out and touch them, but he could not change them.
Ama...
Roma...
Phma...
Tavise...
MimYap...
Til...
Nhar...
Hectus...
Legra...
The Humans...
Everyone...
And then, it faded away a black cloaked human with a scythe appearing before him in the blackness. And Rakath saw every moment of agony he had experienced in life. Death was the perfect torture. And finally, Rakath embraced it. Feeling the cold wash over him. Rakath had accepted his fate. And the world would move on without him.
Opening his eyes one more time he saw each person he cared for who had passed all sitting in the hanger of the Shadow of Faith, the floor and ceiling shrouded in mist. It made him smile as he walked to them...
His story had ended...
He'd been called to the Super Carrier, the Commander on the other end claiming Rakath had been recommended for reward and possible addition to the council. Standing at his full height he moved down the halls, his commander armor clanking on the floor as he made his way through the long hallway to the Council Chambers.
In his hand, he held Hectus's Revolver aimed down to the floor, his Greatswords shown on his hips, under which, on a belt, duel Energy Swords, on his back an energy Staff. His full collection of Energy Weapons, along with a human Assault Rifle with many numbers of modifications such as a blade expendable from the top, and an Energy Dagger expendable from the bottom.
Tracing a hand over the glyph, he stepped in to the large council room and found himself... Alone...
Moving to the center of the room, a floating platform lifting him up into a glass overlay with chairs. Peering around the room, he blinked a few times before his paranoia took over, one hand lifted his left Greatsword. His orange eyes scanning the room once more, moving slowly to the left.
And then, suddenly, the elevator made a click, locking and a large number of Special Operators appeared form the walls, black armor to bear, and then, in the center, three Zealots.
Rakath's eyes widened.
"Rakath V'keelaii. you have been called here for your judgment of Heresy during the war." He said, a Needle Rifle coming up.
"Heresy? OUR ENTIRE RACE COMMITTED HERESY!" Rakath yelled out to the crowd. There was no response, but the Spec-Ops began to close in. Lifting his Revolver and fired a single shot in the Zealot in the center, and then two into the zealots on his left and right.
The Spec-Ops charged then. And Rakath went in to his "battle-trance".
Shooting down three Special-Operators with his Revolver, and decapitating three more, and then sheathing his Revolver and drawing his second Greatsword. Double-impaling a Special-Operator, he turned and took a Repeater blaster throwing the body forward and spinning around and slashed a Spec-Op in half at the waist.. .They just kept coming...
He slashed and cut at them in anger... and then... His Greatsword flickered and died. Letting out a roar, he threw the hilts to the sides and drew his duel regular swords, continuing his slashing. MimYaps sword and his own, cutting them down as they came. He could still hear MimYaps voice in his mind.
shaking it off he continued he attacks. Leaping in the air, he stabbed his blades into a Spec-Ops chest, his feet going into it. As the body hid the ground he leaped off and tackled yet another down and stabbed into a seconds head, when once again his weapons gave out on him and flickered to death.Throwing them down as well, he would get them back later.
Now was his staff. The heavy weapon lit up at each side as Rakath began spinning and cutting with the elegant weapon, slashing another and spinning around in a circle and cutting more at the waist or cutting out their legs.
To Rakath, everything seemed to move in slow motion. He could hear his breathing in slow motion, his heartbeat spaced more. This was a warriors fight. This was the way a Warrior felt when he had spent years of fighting...
A focus rifle blast shot through the air and his staff shut off and flew away from him. His revolver came up and shot down that said Operator, turning around and shoving the brutish blade into another Elites eyes and spinning with it, slamming it into another.
He could hear the screams, the yells of mercy, the scared remarks. Blood covered his armor, his shields flared, his mind empty. He was a monster. A Demon.
His Revolver clicked then, showing it was out of ammunition. Looking down to his belt, the ammo holding showed he had not brought more. Sheathing the amazingly reliant weapon, Rakaths trusted Assault Rifle came out, both of the blades extended as he continued to impale and shoot.
Driving the rifle into one of the heads, each of the blades and opening fire, making a hole in the top of the operators head, then turning and ramming the butt of the weapon into a second warrior. His chest heaved. Rakath was tiring...
Taking the weapon, he impaled it into a Special Operation Ultra's chest and left it that way, and now he was at his last weapons. Lighting his Energy Daggers, Rakath kept up the fighting, slashing, impaling, headbutting, kicking.
But Rakath, like many others, was normal.
And now, he was down to the last Special Operator. Grabbing the last one by the shoulder and stabbing him three times in the gut, he pushed the body back and moved to retrieve his weapons, successfully.
And as he was about to pick up his Greatsword, a Concussion rifle blast slammed into him, sending him fly and hit the wall with a grunt.
Looking up, the he saw the Zealot standing again, tossing a Concussion Rifle away and drawing a focus Rifle from the ground, opening bursts on Rakath, finally blasting through his heavy armor.
Yelling in pain, Rakath fell on his hands and knees. Forcing himself back up and lighting his left dagger, taking a blast to the shoulder. Rakath fell to his knees once more and took in a breath.
Lifting a shaky arm, he fired a single Energy Striking from his gauntlet, tearing through the air and pegging the Zelaot in the eye. He stumbled down and Rakath stood, trying to limp away, opening his comm and yelling out over all the comm channels.
"We have been betrayed! All of you, get out! Flee!" Rakath demanded.
Roma called back...
"F-father?" Roma asked, worried, her voice shaking.
"Shhh, little dove. Shh..." Rakath said, falling on his hands and knees. "Goodbye, my little warrior." Rakath said weakly.
He went over the"Commander" Comm channel and spoke out to all his fellow Heretics.
"This is... Special Operation Commander... Rakath V'keelaii. And this speech will be short." He sucked in a breath.
"I have had the honor of fighting alongside each of you... Fighting the Covenant, killing them, helping the humans, taking them over..." Rakath put his hand on his chest and fell down face first for a moment, taking in another breath.
"I have lived a long life, and you have all made me proud. All of you have made me... So honored to have served with you all... And I must say... Thank you.. But as the Fates see, I will not walk away from this... Without a stroke of luck." Taking in a long breath.
"My... Successor will be Tavise... I will see you all again... Unless this old man finds his way out." Rakath wa son his feet again and lumbering down the hallway. Flashes of everyone he had met in his journeys coming across his sight, hearing their voices in his head. Each image of their face turning to look at him with an embracing smile, or a neutral look.
"I love you, Rakath V'keelaii." Ama Romanee... His long lost love.
"It has been a pleasure to serve under you, Rakath V'keelaii." Til's younger voice said i his ear.
"Rakath. Let me try to explain this whole 'extraction' thing again...." Phma said, a haze colored image of him standing with a coffee cup.
"So. You are Rakath 'V'keelai." Legra's voice said.
"I respect a warrior of not only skill but wit, come sangheili we shall speak elsewhere?" Hectus said, his face flashing with a smart ass smirk on his face.
"Embrace death when it comes, Rakath. Not all of us get that luxury" Nhar said, his old Scarab Commander.
"I'm sure you have a plan for where to deploy your men, but I'd like to ask that you take command of the mortars I've brought down." Jente said, a flash of the battle of Kholo.
"Rakath, we can't keep the Phantom up we're going t-" Renmee said to him, standing next to his brother, Kallmee looking to him with a smirk on top of a flaming Phantom.
"It is about time, Rakath." MimYap said, Rakath looked to his left to see a vision of MimYap standing there with an approving look.
And then he saw a vision of Rama, his dark head lowered. And then they all appeared at the end of the hall. Rakath ha realized he had not even made it half-way when a sharp pain tore into his skull.
As he toppled over he got the vision of another Zealot, one he had thought dead, immediately falling dead. Rakath had a few seconds left and took in a last breath. Hearing Roma call out on the comm.
"Dad! Father PLEASE! NO!" She begged into the comm, crying.
And Rakath slipped into the cold blackness. He could feel himself move, feel water hitting him, but nothing to see. Looking up, the invisible rain fell in his eyes.
Rakath then saw a scene come before him. He saw all his memorable moments, he could reach out and touch them, but he could not change them.
Ama...
Roma...
Phma...
Tavise...
MimYap...
Til...
Nhar...
Hectus...
Legra...
The Humans...
Everyone...
And then, it faded away a black cloaked human with a scythe appearing before him in the blackness. And Rakath saw every moment of agony he had experienced in life. Death was the perfect torture. And finally, Rakath embraced it. Feeling the cold wash over him. Rakath had accepted his fate. And the world would move on without him.
Opening his eyes one more time he saw each person he cared for who had passed all sitting in the hanger of the Shadow of Faith, the floor and ceiling shrouded in mist. It made him smile as he walked to them...
His story had ended...
FIN
