Chapter 10 - Memories - Part 1
Chapter 10 - Memories - Part 1
23 August 2552 - Human Military Calendar
27° Cycle of the Ninth Age of Reclamation - Covenant Military Calendar
Human world of Tribute, Casbah City
Another dawn had come on Tribute, its light bathing the war zone that was once the capital of the planet.
Two Sangheili in Spec Ops armor, one dark red, the other midnight blue, were walking down one of the streets in the periphery of the city, ignoring the destruction around them. They were walking parallel to a long line of destroyed civilian vehicles when the wind rose, carrying not only the sound of distant battles, but also what many called the scent of war. The sweetish stench of the charred corpses, trapped inside the wreck of their cars, mingled with the ones of burned metal and molten plastic and asphalt, creating an awful combination.
Zhar Vadamee snorted in annoyance at the smell, but he didn't show further signs of discomfort. After countless deployments on the ground, the young Major had grown used to scenes like this, especially since all the corpses didn't even belong to members of his species. They were just humans.
“How long until we reach the target?” Olar, the Spec Ops Minor that was assisting him in the mission, asked. He was a good element, although too eager to prove himself, especially when they worked together. Zhar didn't know for sure if it was his normal attitude, or if it was just jealousy caused by the fact that, although being a year younger, Zhar had the highest rank.
“We are almost there,” Zhar informed him. “It's only five blocks ahead.”
The Sangheili in dark blue armor grunted.
“Is something bothering you, brother?”
“I'm just frustrated, sir. While our comrades are fighting on the front line, the Field Marshal Remoree sent us to retrieve something from a wreckage. Why not give the task to the Jiralhanae? After all, this sector is under their control.”
A few hours before, a Falcon on which was traveling an ONI officer had been attacked and shoot down by one of their Banshees. According to the reports of the Spec Ops division, the officer was carrying with him sensitive intel, intel that were crucial for the campaign against the humans. Due to the air battle still in act over the skies of the city and the massive presence of AA batteries, a retrieval by air was out of the question, so the command had decided to sent the Spec Ops.
“And leave the merit of the recovery to those barbarians? Not a chance. The Field Marshal didn't even inform the Jiralhanae about the true nature of the cargo. He doesn't want to risk that they play some dirty trick.”
They walked in silence for the following twenty minutes, until they finally reached their destination. The tower-block, an elegant structure consisting at least fifty floors, was the tallest building of the residential area. It was surrounded on three sides by a small park with a large square in front of the entrance. The wide space was devoid of obstructions, making the location an ideal landing zone, thus it was logical for it to have been chosen as an evacuation point.
An evacuation that never happened. The Jiralhanae had come in the middle of the night, slaughtering everything in their path.
Destroyed vehicles belonging to the local police department and the planetary security forces were littered through the square, along with the bodies of several humans in riot gear or Army uniforms. In the distance, half hidden by the park's trees, was the still smoking remains of a Pelican dropship.
While they passed through the remains of what had been a one sided battle, his gaze stopped for a moment on a woman's head, still wearing her riot helmet, impaled by a metal spike on the flank of a van. It was just the head. The rest of the body was gods know where, and quite frankly, Zhar didn't wanted to know.
'Brutes,' Zhar thought. 'That's what the humans call them. A nickname perfectly deserved.'
A quick glance to some of the corpses showed perfectly why their species was often used as a psychological weapon. Many of the bodies were barely recognizable, torn apart by the primitive and brutal weapons that they seemed to favor, or in some cases, by sheer brute force.
“It's a pity that we've missed the battle,” the Minor commented.
“Battle? I'd rather use the word slaughter.”
“I don't see the difference, sir. A dead human is still a dead human, it doesn't matter how it's killed.”
Zhar didn't reply, instead he looked more carefully at the surrounding area, frowning at what he saw. The area had been fortified with deployable towers, infantry shields, and even a pair of Shade turrets. Everything was arranged in the most effective way, providing efficient cover and clean firing lines.
The problem was that the infantry was almost completely absent, with the exception of about sixty Unggoy. There weren't snipers on the towers, the turrets were unmanned, and the few patrols that he could see were formed just by a pair of Unggoy, who always followed the same predictable path.
Without somebody to oversee them, except for a handful of veterans, the rest of the Unggoy were doing what their species did best: being lazy.
“What in the name of the Prophets is going on?” he growled, marching with decision toward the closest communication node, forcing the Unggoy in his path to step aside.
An Unggoy Ultra donning the characteristic white armor and full helmet was peacefully sleeping near the slender communication device, completely oblivious of the presence of the Sangheili.
'All hail the conquering hero,' Zhar thought sarcastically at the pathetic scene in front of him, before he unceremoniously woke up the Unggoy with a kick.
The little creature jolted awake and growled, ready to scold whoever had dared to interrupt his nap, but when he noticed the menacing figure towering above him, he squeaked in fear and stood to attention.
“Where is your commanding officer?” Zhar growled.
Shaking like a leaf under the towering figure of the Sangheili, the little soldier pointed one of his oversized claws toward the building.
“Big boss is inside with Jiralhanae and Kig-Yar,” he said with his high pitched voice. “Unggoy stay outside and look for threats,” he hurried to add, hoping to placate the wrath of the Sangheili by pointing out their dedication to duty. It wasn't uncommon to hear about a member of the martial warrior race executing a subordinate belonging to a lesser species on the spot when they failed to perform their tasks. And the Unggoy were on the bottom of the Covenant hierarchy.
“I can well see it,” Zhar replied sarcastically, before walking away toward the entrance of the building, followed by Olar. “Idiots,” the Major growled. “They must have a death wish if they let the cannon fodder do a warrior's work.”
There were still many pockets of resistance in the area and with the evacuation of civilians still in act, the UNSC had started to perform a strategy of urban guerrilla warfare in order to draw the attention of the Covenant away from the spaceports.
The moment he opened the doors of dark tinted glass, he was hit by the smell of death.
'This explains why there were too few bodies compared to the quantity of blood on the ground.'
The atrium of the tower block occupied the first three floors, the structure consisting of surfaces that were a combination of dark marble and teak wood that created an elegant and homey environment. Balconies adorned with plants ran all around while huge windows provided an abundance of natural light.
This artwork of architecture now looked like a slaughterhouse. Wherever he let his gaze fall, he saw Jiralhanae and Kig-Yar that were intent on devouring human corpses.
The Jiralhanae were sitting in small groups around piles of dismembered corpses, talking and joking while consuming huge quantities of raw flesh.
The Kig-Yar instead seemed to be victims of a feeding frenzy, tearing the flesh from the corpses using their fang filled beaks, hissing and growling like feral beasts.
'Savages,' Zhar thought, disgusted at the sight in front of them.
Zhar was the first to admit that he wasn't a saint, but the scene in front of him was ignoble and dishonorable to say the least, a complete lack of respect toward the enemy that went against everything he had been taught.
“Oh, look who have finally decided to join us,” said a deep guttural voice, interrupting his train of thought. “The mighty warriors of Sanghelios.”
The owner of the voice was a Jiralhanae wearing the iridescent blue armor of the Captains, save for the helmet, which he had probably taken off to eat without obstructions. The blades of the Spiker rifle on his hip were bloody, no doubt he had used them to cut the flesh from one of the corpses.
“Want some?” he asked, showing the leg that he kept in his hand.
“We don't eat sapient creatures,” Zhar replied flatly.
The Jiralhanae shrugged. “Bah, do as you wish. More flesh for us, then,” he said, taking another large bite from the severed limb, ignoring the blood that was dripping down his chin and short beard.
“Where is your pack leader?” Zhar asked, ignoring the irreverent attitude of the hulking creature.
The Captain chewed with his mouth open for a bit, keeping his eyes on the Spec Ops Major, before he finally gulped the morsel. “This way,” he said, gesturing for them to follow him.
“You remain silent, I will be the one who talks,” Zhar instructed his teammate through a private channel while they walked after their guide. Olar nodded, keeping an eye on the members of the war pack around them for eventual signs of danger.
It wasn't a secret that Sangheili and Jiralhanae hated each other reciprocally. So far, most of them seemed to ignore the two Sangheili, safe for a few who gave them hostile looks, but in the case of some of the younger members of the pack, the smell emissions that they used to communicate their emotions seemed to change, becoming more acrid.
It wasn't long before they reached their destination. The Chieftain and his officers were sitting on some fabric sofas, discussing amongst them while feasting with the usual banquet of human flesh. It was with mild surprise that Zhar noticed the presence of three Kig-Yar with them, all of them T'Vaoan. One was wearing Champion armor while the others wore the Murmillo variant.
“Chieftain Antigonus, you have visitors,” the Captain announced, gesturing at the two Spec Ops.
The colossus in black and red armor raised his gaze from his meal toward the newcomers, showing a big pale scar on the right side of his face, probably a result of the fight with which he had obtained the leadership of the pack.
“Hmm, I was wondering when you would come,” the Chieftain said with his deep voice after having studied the two Spec Ops for a few moments. “I guess that you are here for the human aircraft.”
“This is correct,” Zhar said. “We were told that it crashed in this sector. Where is it?”
The lips of the Chieftain twisted into a smirk. “Oh, you are really lucky, Major. It's not far. Actually, it crashed on the roof of this same building.”
“Thank you for the directions, Chieftain,” Zhar said with a slight nod, before heading toward the elevators with Olar.
They had already made a dozen or so meters when they heard Antigonus speak again.
“Oh, I almost forgot, the elevators no longer work. You see, during the battle the electrical room was damaged and, as a result, the electricity is gone. I'm sorry, but you'll have to use the stairs,” he said with clearly fake consternation.
“How unfortunate,” Zhar replied dryly, doing his best to maintain calm. 'Especially if you consider that the electrical rooms are always built under the buildings, while the fight was outside.'
“Let's find the damn stairs,” he said in a low voice to Olar, ignoring the increasing chorus of laughter as the news of their 'misfortune' traveled through the members of the pack. “The sooner we complete our mission, the sooner we can leave those beasts and their disgusting stench.”
Fifty flights of stairs later, the two Sangheili finally reached the roof of the tower-block.
“Now I get why the Rangers have jetpacks,” Olar grunted. “Another ramp of stairs and we would have been able to board one of our ships.”
Zhar said nothing. The training he had to endure on Sanghelios had been far more brutal and wearisome than this, and he had long since learned how to ignore pain and fatigue.
'There it is.'
The Falcon was about twenty meters on their left. Judging by the signs on the floor of the roof, after the Falcon had made initial impact, it had broken the landing skids, causing the aircraft to have skidded on its belly until it had been stopped by the now deformed balustrade.
“Watch the sky for potential threats,” he ordered the Minor, before walking toward the Falcon.
The sky above them was crossed by the long trails of smoke and vapor of missiles and the bright globes of plasma weapons, with the occasional explosion when one of the multiple aircrafts was destroyed. So far, the battle took place at high altitude, but the last thing that they needed was to be attacked by a team of Hornets while they were on the highest spot in the surrounding three kilometers.
Getting closer, Zhar could clearly see the extent of the damage. The aircraft was in bad shape, but the left side was the one that had endured the worst fate. The propeller was missing two blades, while what was left of the engine was reduced to a block of molten metal.
The machine gun and the relative gunner on the left side were completely missing, all that remained was a molten hardpoint, probably as a result of a direct hit from a fuel rod cannon.
A quick glance to the bloodstained cockpit confirmed that the pilot had died in the impact. He moved to the troop compartment. There were three more humans, two of which donned ODST armor. One was manning the remaining machine gun, while the other was sitting on the bench, tail side. Sitting in front of him was a man wearing the dark uniform of the ONI officers.
They were all dead. The gunner had a fourth degree plasma burn on his chest, while the officer had his head bent to an unnatural angle. Getting closer, Zhar noticed that the remaining ODST didn't show any particularly serious wounds, aside from a gash on his left leg which he had taken care, if the used can of biofoam was a clue.
Zhar approached him cautiously and gave him a slight push on the shoulder. The human fell on his side on the bench like a rag doll and remained still.
'Probably died of internal bleeding,' he thought as he was forced to bend his neck in order to enter the troop compartment without hitting his head on the ceiling. Whoever had designed the aircraft hadn't certainly done it to accommodate a Sangheili.
The hands of the ONI officer were clenched around the armored canister made of titanium and ballistic glass, holding it against his chest like a mother would do with her child. Whatever the contents was, it must have been really important if this man was protecting it even after death.
When he moved the hand of the corpse aside to free the canister, he finally had a clear sight of its contents, or content in this case. Suspended inside of it was a small rectangular object of metal with a hole in the middle, in which shined a bright yellow light.
'An AI data chip?' Zhar thought, surprised. 'No wonder the Field Marshal didn't inform the Jiralhanae about the true nature of our mission.'
He was about to grab the canister when he suddenly heard from behind him the unmistakable sound of the safety of a gun clicking off. He jerked his head around just in time to see a pistol being aimed at his face.
The ODST had just pretended to be dead. And now, without a word, he squeezed the trigger.
Three semi armor piercing high explosive bullets impacted almost point blank in quick succession against the helmet of the Spec Ops, draining his shields quickly, but much to his surprise, the fourth shot, the one that should have penetrated his helmet and killed him, never came. Instead, the pistol emitted a loud CLICK.
Zhar didn't know if the pistol had jammed or if its magazine was already almost empty, but he didn't care. Without wasting time, the young Major violently punched the ODST in the stomach with his right hand, breaking several of his ribs, while his other hand snatched the pistol from the ODST and threw it away. He then grabbed the human by the neck using his left hand and yanked him from his seat, dragging him out of the Falcon and holding him in the air.
True to their reputation of unyielding warriors even in the most desperate situations, the ODST extracted a combat knife from his arm holster and tried to stab Zhar in the neck, but the Spec Ops was faster and intercepted the attack by grabbing his wrist.
“Nice try,” he complimented in English before breaking the wrist of the man with a quick torsion of the hand.
The human screamed in pain, releasing his grip on the knife, which fell harmlessly on the concrete floor.
“You tried to kill me twice. I should leave you to the mercy of the Brutes, and we both know that they have none,” Zhar growled ominously, staring at the polarized visor of the ODST. “But I feel generous, so I'll spare you the trouble of going down the stairs,” he said, before starting to walk toward the edge of the roof.
“No!” the man yelled in panic when he realized the meaning of the words of Zhar. He began to kick the chestplate and to punch the arm of the Spec Ops with his still sane hand, doing everything in his power to break free from the steel grip of the Sangheili, but without success. Soon the ODST found himself suspended in the air over the safety railing.
“Any last words?” Zhar asked with a conversational tone.
“Go fuck yourself!” the man managed to yell over the pain caused by the broken bones.
“Why does your species always think about mating?” the Spec Ops asked rhetorically, letting him go.
To his credit, the human didn't scream. Not right away, at least. He had already fallen for three floors before the realization that he wouldn't survive the fall hit him. His panicked scream ended abruptly seconds later when his head smashed against the concrete ground, splattering blood and brain all around. Even from the roof, Zhar could hear the sickening sound of the cranium that fractured.
“They should change their motto from feet first to head first into hell,” he joked, causing the Minor to laugh.
Zhar walked back to the Falcon and retrieved the cylinder containing the AI data chip. “We have what we have come for,” he said, attaching the canister to the magnetic lock on his back. “We can go now.”
The Spec Ops had reached the ninth floor when they heard the noise of a slammed door.
“I thought that there was nobody here,” Olar said, giving a puzzled look to the Major.
“Better go investigate,” Zhar said, pulling out his plasma rifle and opening the door that gave access to the floor. “Given the level of professionalism shown by Antigonus and his soldiers, I wouldn't be surprised to find out that a Spartan managed to sneak inside the building.”
All the doors of the corridor had been systematically broken open by the Jiralhanae while they searched for eventual survivors that had hidden in their homes, and judging by the bloody footprints on the fitted carpet, they didn't leave empty-handed.
They were about to turn a corner, when suddenly a Kig-Yar appeared from behind it. The avian creature failed to stop in time, instead he bumped against the chest of the Minor and fell on the ground, spraying all around the contents of the sack he was carrying, which mostly consisted of bottles of alcohol. By the strong smell of alcohol that the Kig-Yar was emitting, he had not merely hoarded the bottles.
“He drank on duty in a war zone?” Olar exclaimed, indignant
“And they wonder why we are the right hand of the Prophets,” Zhar commented, watching in disgust as the smaller creature tried, and failed, to gather the bottles from the floor.
It was just now that the drunken Kig-Yar seemed to take notice of the two Sangheili for the first time. He softly cawed something in his native language, trying get back on his feet, but unsuccessful.
Losing his patience, the Minor roughly grabbed the Kig-Yar by the arm and raised him from the ground. The suddenness of the movement didn't fit well with the current drunken state of the smaller alien and as result, the Kig-Yar emptied the entire contents of his stomach on the boots of the Sangheili.
Olar stared in complete shock at the mess on his armor, still holding the avian creature by the arm, but when the awful stench hit his nostrils, he finally snapped.
“How dare you, you filthy scavenger!” he roared, hurling the Kig-Yar against a nearby wall with enough strength to break his neck, killing him on impact.
“Feeling better?” Zhar asked.
Wordlessly, the Minor grabbed his rifle and fired a couple of times into the chest of the Kig-Yar.
“Now, yes,” he replied, re-holstering his weapon. He sniffed the air a couple of times. “Yuck! There's no way that I'll walk back to the base while carrying this stench around.”
“With any luck there's still water in the pipes,” Zhar said, stepping over the corpse of the Kig-Yar as if it was a pile of garbage.
“I hope so,” Olar grumbled before entering the closest apartment, looking for a shower. It wasn’t long before Zhar could hear the noise of running water.
Not having anything better to do while the Minor cleaned his armor, Zhar decided to take a look around. He wandered through the different rooms, observing with mild interest the different objects that were a part of the daily life of humans, until he stopped in front of a particular room.
The kitchen.
“Hmm, I wonder if...” he trailed off before he stepped inside the room and started rummaging through the various cupboards. 'Ah-ah! There it is,' he thought happily when he found what he was hoping for.
He gave a quick glance around to make sure that nobody was looking at him, then he grabbed the tablet of chocolate and put it in a pocket of his armor. 'Nax will appreciate it.'
His physician friend was crazy about chocolate, but unfortunately it wasn't an item easy to find lying around, even with the help of the Kig-Yar smugglers.
Satisfied with his little discovery, he decided to check the rest of the dwelling. It was then that he found the bodies in the bedroom. They were two adults roughly of the same age, a male and a female, both with chest wounds caused by a Spiker rifle.
The man was the one closer to the door, still holding in his hand a small-caliber pistol, which had obviously failed to penetrate the power armor of his aggressor.
Zhar stared at the corpses in silence for a bit, then he snapped his jaws and was about to leave the room, but stopped in the threshold. His instinct told him that something was off.
He looked more carefully at the bodies, in particular, the one of the female human. By the traces of blood, he was able to tell that the woman hadn't died instantly, instead, she had managed to crawl for a couple of meters toward a closet, leaving a bloody handprint on its door before dying.
What was so important in the closet?
Grabbing the handle, he threw open the door of the wardrobe. What he found inside the small cubicle made him pause.
'Of course. I should have expected .'
Sitting on the floor in a corner of the closet, with her knees close to her face and her arms wrapped around her legs, was a little girl.
Her dark hair were covering her face, but from the way she quietly sniffled, it was obvious that she was crying.
'She must have remained hidden when the Jiralhanae arrived, while the smell of the blood of her parents must have covered her olfactory trace,' Zhar guessed, looking at the small creature in front of him.
He snapped his jaws, knowing what he had to do. The orders of the Hierarchs were clear. He detached the rifle from the magnetic lock on his right hip, then he grabbed the little girl by the arm and pulled her out of the closet. She didn’t offer any resistance.
'Pathetic,' he thought. There wasn't any satisfaction in shooting a creature that didn't even try to defend itself.
However, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable when, after having grabbed her, he noticed that she was even more lightweight and frail than he had originally supposed.
'What did you expected?' a voice in his mind said. 'She's just a child.'
He paused. Why did he think about her that way? She was a human.
'A human child,' the voice insisted.
Zhar ignored the voice and put the child down.
Even when he let her go she didn't react. He expected that she would try to run away or at least scream, but she did none of this. She just stood there, in silence, shifting her gaze slowly from a body to another.
'Mine is an act of mercy after all. If not me, then it would be one of the Jiralhanae or the Kig-Yar,' he thought, aiming his plasma rifle at her little chest.
He was about to squeeze the trigger, when the girl finally gave him a reaction. Looking a last time to the bodies of her parents, the young human raised her gaze toward the Spec Ops Major. It was just now that he noticed that her eyes, swollen and reddened from crying, were purple, a very rare color in her species.
But what really took him aback was her gaze. Those eyes, once filled with wonder and happiness, like it was normal for a child, were now a pair of empty voids. There wasn't fear in them, nor anger, nor hate, nor even sadness.
It was the gaze of somebody who had already accepted the fact that they were about to die and that there was nothing left to live for.
'And it belongs to a child who is at best seven years old,' Zhar realized.
His breathing became irregular, while the hand holding the rifle began to shake without him having even noticed it.
'What's happening to me?' he wondered, eyes wide in confusion and horror.
He looked back at the girl. He steadied his grip on the weapon and tried to adjust the aim, in vain.
'She's just a human. She's just a human. She. Is. Just. A. Human,' he kept repeating this mantra in his mind, trying to fight the overwhelming sense of nausea that was growing up from his stomach, but without success.
Then, she spoke.
It was just a single word. Her faint voice was barely audible, but that simple word carried enough strength to order the entire universe to freeze.
“Why?”
The Commando jolted awake and sat on his makeshift bed, instinctively grabbing his plasma repeater. His breathing was erratic and his eyes darted all around searching for threats, but once he realized where he was, he put down his weapon.
They had camped inside a big abandoned wooden shed located in the outskirts of the forest, not too far from the huge orchard that they had identified from the dam. The place was isolated, but at the same time it allowed easy reach to the settlement.
Closing his eyes, he took a series of deep breaths, bringing back his heart rate to normal levels.
'Damn nightmares,' he thought, rubbing his face with a hand. It had been years since the siege of Tribute, and yet that wretched memory continued to haunt him almost every night.
A faint noise made him turn. A few steps from him, Tarya was sleeping on her own makeshift bed made of branches and leaves. His startled gasp must have disturbed her, causing her to stir in her sleep, but fortunately she didn't wake up.
He checked the mission timer. Dawn was near and thanks to the nightmare, any residual trace of sleep was gone.
'I might as well spend this time in a constructive way,' he thought, turning on the datapad and beginning to read one of the books that the Zealot had copied.
'Chapter 1: How Equestria was born.'
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And now he will he forever horrified by the idea that everthing orbits equs. The end.
More please
Hi invading space fleet. Have a moon. Dont worry, thats just a distraction for the sun coming up behind you.
Always the same. Everyone refuss to consider the slightly expensive alternative, so leaves it till the last minute. Not realising the last minute was half an hour ago.
6102430 Indeed. Sometimes is sufficient a single question to shatter even the strongest ideology.
Interesting little flashback here. Good chapter.
6102814 Thank you
Not sure if it's a reference, I'm about to sound real stoopid if it is, but how ironic would it be if Zhar let that girl live and she went on to become a Spartan III? Is a reunion due maybe?
Great chapter, the 'Part 1' part leads me to believe Tarya is next to take a trip down memory lane. Can't wait to see what that has in store.
Not going to lie, that was a nice comeback.
6102962
Indeed, I admit that it would have been a nice twist in the story, but if you observe the date, you can see that the events in the flashback happen in 2552, roughly at the same time of the battle of Reach. At that time Gamma Company was already ready for action, while the formation of Delta company was aborted due to the destruction of Onyx some months later.
Regarding the second part of your question, you're right, there will be more flashbacks in the story in the future, involving other members of the crew
6103044
I remember to have read in one of the books of the Kilo-Five trilogy that from the insults used by a species you can learn a lot about their culture and their fears. For the humans is the sexuality, for the Sangheili apparently are the sicknesses, considering that Nishum (the nickname for the humans) means 'parasite worm'.
Thank you
6103181 Ah right, gotcha. Spartan IV then maybe? Well...that is if the universe doesn't end in the story of Halo 5 and following game titles
6103614 You're assuming that the girl is still alive...
6103780 .....Don't hurt us like that Hunter.....Don't hurt me like that
6103836 I can neither confirm nor deny her fate. We'll see what happened on Tribute in the next flashback. For now, think of her like a Schrodinger's cat.
Holy fuck man... you did great on this chapter. Heh, ah well.
I can't help but think an Elite carrying a little girl on his shoulder is one of the most adorable things possible. And what honor is there in slaughtering a helpless child??? If you want to justify sparing her, take her home with you, train her up, and let her fight for her continued survival.
6105150 Thank you
6105953 All will be revealed in due time. All I can say is that the events of Tribute changed Zhar's life forever.
6106165
I've said this before, but it bears repeating: You write perfectly. I feel like I'm reading one of the official Halo novels. I fact, if they do another anthology, you should polish up this chapter and submit it as a standalone short story. I could see it getting published.
Anyway, this presents something I've really longed for: some relatability on the part of the Sangheili. I already saw Evan Phillips accept them as people in the Kilo Five trilogy, now I get to see an Elite come to terms with his actions. I have but one request: Write more, and fast!
6113135 Thank you very much
I'm really flattered by your words, although personally I think that the story is far from being perfect 
One of the main problems is to capture the mentality of the Sangheili: they are a proud militaristic race, trained since birth for war, and although many of them are ashamed for what they did during the war in the name of a lie (like the Shipmaster in The Return), in many stories they are described almost like humans in alien bodies.
I don't think that they consider a problem the killing per se, but the reason behind it.
6113168
Well, their psychology is different, but there are important parallels. For example, in The Thursday War, Phillips encountered a keep full of female and juvenile sangheili, under attack. In that moment, he picked up a weapon and risked his life to defend them. Why? Because, even if they were aliens, they were still women and children under attack.
No, they aren't just humans in different bodies, but they do care about life. They value it, perhaps even more than humans, or at least they are supposed to. That is why honor was so vital to them; if a warrior is not honorable, you cannot trust him to kill only those who he absolutely must. Their culture demands that the taking of life be honorable, just, and only when necessary, almost ceremonial, even. Maybe that's why the warriors felt uneasy with the Covenant's methods for so long, even before the Great Schism...
6120414 Indeed, although, if I recall correctly, Phyllis (
) had been more or less conscripted by the alpha female of the keep; I think that 'Henry' from Mona Lisa would be a better example. He wasn't obliged to save Benti, and yet he decided to carry her to safety.
6120499
Both, really. Phillips had to be physically dragged out by his team, because he refused to abandon the keep, even though it was a lost cause. Henry is an excellent example too, because he understood that the Flood represented a common enemy, something against which even mortal foes would stand together. An honorless warrior would have simply tried to survive on his own, but instead he saw Benti as an ally because he held true to Sangheili honor. Things like that show the similarities which really matter.
6122103
I agree
orig04.deviantart.net/a707/f/2015/158/b/8/11069423_836067366478954_4734740008178202018_n_by_drtraumaty-d8we34g.jpg
6122215 it's conversations like this that make me want to read those books I have but haven't read yet XD are they worth reading? The Halo books?
6130961 Personally, I think yes. The quality of the stories is variable and depends on the authors, but the books give many elements that help greatly to comprehend the Halo universe and the events in the games (I personally think that the Forerunner Saga, written by Greg Bear, is essential to understand the plot of Halo 4).
This is really good story i just stop reading it till this chapter i hope you can write more soon i just love it.
6133811 I'm glad that you like it
is there an ETA on the next chapter
6221411 unfortunately no
I have a base draft for the next chapter but I can't say for certainty when it will be ready
6222344 fair enough
6230003 Oooooh that German armored car is nice.... Also... Hi.
6269884 Hi
6275094
This is an awesome story, I require more to fill the hole in my heart
6478825 Thank you
I'm working on the next chapter.
6480271 HOORAY!
Your portrayal of ODSTs....... Pleases me
You may carry out your business as usual citizen
Actually
Your portrayal of all of the halo universe and your knowledge of it.... Damn dude
I'm not even gonna joke about this.... This story is fucking amazing... I hope it isn't dead
6654401 Thank you
The story is far from being perfect, but I'm always pleased to know that people appreciate it.
The lack of balance between factions is something that always bothers me when I read a story of this kind, even one of the official Halo novels (I still cringe when I read the Kilo-5 trilogy), so I try my best to write the story so to make appear all its various elements... hmm, realistic, I suppose?
Regarding the lack of updates, I apologize with all the readers. Real life takes a lot of my time and in my plans the next chapter is a turning point for the story (I've already written over 8k words, but there is still a lot to do). Hopefully, I'll be able to update the story before the end of the year, but it's not a promise.
6653540 You'd think the Yanme'e would be like "ok the Covenant isn't working out at all so we're gonna leave now"
6726971 Yup
It's not the only reference in the story
6728433 wait, what?
Are you continuing this?
Regardless... COMMENTS!!!!
So far, I really like how you have done this up. Sure, there are some general characterization problems with the Sangheili but at the end of the day, that is just trying to make them... Well, I guess you could say, people?
Anatomy on the other hand... I was really confused when I read when Tayra woke up. Why did she have anything around her chest? I get around her groin but not exactly around her chest seeing as Elites don't have mammary glands. I'm gonna say this and say this once because chances are it will change your view of Elites forEVER
... They lay eggs...
Yeah, they lay eggs. Like Lizards, they lay eggs. There are pictures of female Sangheili freely walking around topless because there just isn't anything there. Long story short, THEY ARE LIZARDS! Tails were actually part of their concept, but then they realized that tails make animation and vehicles rather difficult.
Carrying on, though... That's about it. OH! The Hurakog! Yes, all of their names ((No matter what from what I can currently find)) have something to do with buoyancy. No clue why, that's just their thing. Also, they are VERY literal. They don't exactly have the ability to comprehend different types of speech. They just speak. Like when Lucy ran into a bunch of them. All they wanted to do was find what made lucy broken. Lucy was broken, and their only priority was to fix them. I guess that's what happens when you're essentially a biological machine designed to make another races life easier.
Seriously though, from the last few critiques I have done on Halo, this is remarkably good. I'm impressed, and that's hard to do when it comes to me. Do keep writing this.
Also, did you really have to reference Hellsing Ultimate Abridged? REALLY?!
6740665 Yes, I'm well aware that the Sangheili are technically a homeothermic saurian species and that they lay eggs, but the truth is when I started writing the story there were less information regarding the biology and anatomy of the Sangheili (in particular their females), so my original concept was that their reproductive strategy was similar to the one of the monotremes (like the platypus and the echidna), with mammary glands and some kind of 'proto-breasts' to help their infants during the feeding.
The Huragok are a delicate subject, I guess. I know that their personalities are a bit too much... lively? but I was inspired from Sometimes Sinks, the Huragok that in Mortal Dictata seems to have developed a sort of rampancy due to a combination of old age and lack of maintenance for long periods. I will dedicate more time to the Engineers in the future chapters.
Probably
Give us more! Please continue the story.
6848214
I'm working on it, but thanks to *urgh* 
real life, you'll have to wait a bit more.
Need NEXT CHAPTER WHEN IS IT
6886880 I'm working on it
It may be ready within the end of the month, but it's not a promise.
We demand more!! As your Lord and Master I command you to continue this amazing story!!!!!
6961761
I'm sorry for the long wait (a very long wait, I know), but as I said in a previous comment, there were chances that new chapter wouldn't be ready by the end of February. Chapter 11 is currently over 10k words long but there are parts scattered all over it that still need to be completed.
P.S. my Lord and Master? Sir, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I obey to someone else
6961811 that was from halo 2 right. That was a great game.
Y'know, this chapter really demonstrates the darker undertones of the halo pretty damn well, got a little quezy there when I was reminded that brutes eat their enemies. Good job.
8843797
Indeed. The Halo universe is a rather dark place if one looks at the right sources. It particularly irks me how often people try to humanize too much the various species of the Covenant, while instead they should be portrayed as what they actually are: aliens, with different types of mentalities and morals compared to us; it mostly happens with the fans, but it sometimes happens also with the authors, like in the case of Karen Traviss and her Kilo-5 trilogy: I remember a scene in one of her books where a Kig-Yar was afraid of a particular human because he kept referring to his kind as 'poultry'; I mean, seriously? A Kig-Yar that fears a human just because we eat chickens? Last I checked the Kig-Yar were feathered space-raptors that would eat prisoners and use civilians as target practice.
I think that people often forget the reason why the Jiralhanae earned the nickname Brute: Tartarus became packleader by killing his uncle and if we watch closely the cutscenes from Halo 2 we see that after he tries to kill the Arbiter, he wears the skull of a Sangheili on his shoulder pad; in the short story Stomping on the Heels of a Fuss, we see the crew of a Brute ship eating human prisoners and even Grunts; in Halo 3 a Chieftain explicitly says that his pack will eat us (the Chief) once he has defeated us; and that's just a few examples.
If you're interested, there's a good fanfiction that shows the most savage side of the Jiralhanae, as well what Sangheili and humans can achieve when they work together, it's called The enemy of my enemy, by Katsuhiro.