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Alien Brethren: Chapter 15: Part 1: An Exile, a Soldier, and a Warlord
Posted By: Greek Elite<Swiftstick31@hotmail.com>
Date: 2 March 2006, 11:57 pm
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I just want to thank Alex or the Greek Elite for letting me conduct this chapter. His ideas and story were and are justly remarkable to work with. And I apologize for the long extent of time it took to make this chapter. Chapter 15 will be devised into parts, because it hints a foreshadowing mystery that I want to lure into Alien Brethren. So here is Chapter 15 part 1, enjoy…
Alien Brethren Chapter 15
Part 1-An Exile, a Soldier, and a Warlord
"Come, traitor the Covenant craves your torture…"
The lingering words of the Brute called to Alei 'Limoto. The Elite held his sides with a repugnant pain; he savored the everlasting blood, trickling in and out of his mandibles.
His squadmates were restrained by energy cuffs, and they were being guided by the loyalists, the beasts of Brutes that made his very life a living hell…
"These despicable Heretics know nothing of pain!" A Brute spat angrily at them. They steadily limped through tiers of streets and ramps through the screaming Chicago streets.
Alei traced crowds of people being ushered by Covenant forces into stable-like prisons. Crossfire could be seen from the many silver rooftops, the once lustrous and dazzling boulevards were lost in tatters of blood-drenched snow and ribbons of broken machines.
Longsword Fighters could be seen streaming the sapphire skies, they gave emits of smoke and fired garlands of missiles into mortar emplacements.
The battle that was cruelly fought by the unprepared armies lay scarred and lost. Everything looked hopeless and lost…
"Into the gravity lift! BAH!" The Brute Chieftain sputtered angrily, pushing Alei into the lift.
Alei staggered through the snow, gasping to the cold on his fresh wounds. He groaned softly, his pain far surpassed everything he felt before. He ducked in and out of life; he gripped to his spark of essence for as long as he could before he lost his footing and tumbled to the ground.
He saw his companions being trudged away…Baxter, Kaskut…the Oracle…a bright light echoed his ears and he fell into nothingness.
"Alei!" Baxter screamed, elbowing his Brute escort in the chest, the Brute keeled backward as the Marine Sergeant sprinted for his alien brethren.
"GET BACK HERE!!" The Brute Captain spat, raising his Brute Shot to the Human. "Baxter!" The Grunt, Kaskut chirped up as a Jackal companion of the Brute elevated a burst plasma bolt. John turned and ducked in time to see the stray bolt hit the snow, in a flutter of melted snow where the plasma strung he sloshed away toward his friend.
The Brute by the Elite turned and saw an enraged Marine sprint forward.
The vicious spitfire of the Plasma Rifles pelted the white patches of snow into liquefied froth. Baxter danced backward to avoid the showers of plasma greeting him. He dived at Alei's side, grinding his teeth to the impact.
"Stay with me…it will be ok"
All Alei could see was white, the dissolving pain melted into his ribs and he felt the very evil they were fighting, touch his heart.
"GET HIM!"
Baxter grunted in short pain as a Brute hammered his fist into his midriff. "Ugh!" His mumbles and groans of pain were replaced by the sharp scream from a familiar voice.
"ONE MORE, HUMAN AND SHE GETS IT!" The Brute Chieftain shrieked, he sidestepped to reveal his loving wife, Hailey being bested by a towering Brute.
Baxter got up, raising his hands to withdrawing tenderness.
"Don't hurt her…I swear I won't do anything…just please don't hurt her" He sobbed tearfully. The burning love he felt for her dropped from his eyes into the worst tear he ever shed.
The haunting melody of her screams echoed to a beyond…into the very depth into his spirit…Earth…Alei…Their baby…
Baxter gazed onto his companion with tearful eyes, the Elite looked horrible. His red armor that symbolized the warrior that saved so many was now replaced with a grim smoking luster. His eyes…were now replaced with sockets of white, blinking steadily to the sorrowing snowflakes that pecked his mandibles.
Yet, even in the sadness of this time, John felt a hint of hope growing…it was so faint he could've given up on it…but after all miracles were his specialty…
* * *
"HOPE!"
The Derelict screamed a dismissive howl from the void and metallic canyons below their Champion. The Elites, Grunts and Hunters released hollers of prideful gasps. They looked onto a shadow of a being clinging to their fiery, victorious yells.
The Champion lived to be a leader…he was meant to do this…for the Derelict, for his father…
His alien-green armor sparked a look of terror to all his supporters. The warlord…the victor was a rally of every meek and arrogant rogue that crossed his path.
The Champion held grudges and respects for the greatest and evilest of all his foes. The Covenant…Heretics…Humans…and above all enemies…the Flood.
His distasteful anger and foul aversion toward the Flood blasted away. They were extraordinary beasts...they weren't animals as the Covenant laded in their gospel…they were smart and passive beings that deserved recognition and camaraderie.
He devoted these notions to his studies and experiments on them. All of the bloody ruins and gaudy battles lying under the Flood he studied…and for the better he consumed their weaknesses and advantages. Something the Forerunner's strived to do for generations and generations…and failed.
"The Derelict will be victorious...we will march upon our brother's bastions and claim them for our own!" The crowd below screamed to the virtuous leader aloft. "And with our new allies we have formed…we will surely crush them!" He pointed to the defenses embedded into his armies. Whereas the Hunters and Elites and Grunts formed their own postures and shapes, these shapes gave an eerie, scary appearance.
"Behold, my brothers! The Disciples! Once a ravaged and brutal race conquered by an Arbiter long ago they are now a respected race among the Derelict!" The Disciples beat their enormous cuirasses to their alloyed chests in a yell. Their buzzing and dark voices echoing beyond the walls.
'Yes…this was his time to glow…their time…'
"Now go…find the Covenant, the Heretics and the Humans and smite their corpses from this systematic relic!"
* * *
Two by two the squad and the alien brethren stepped into the holding cells. They were all held in a single cubicle, with enclosing purple barriers keeping them within.
Baxter let himself fall on a square seat, held by broken tiles and energy braces.
Alei 'Limoto was cast inside by Kaskut; he collapsed to the stripes of the floor but breathed in short dismissive blasts.
The Brutes circling the cages were whispering in slavering exhales, growling in hoarse and hushed murmurs.
Ignoring them, Baxter went straight for his brother. At some the Elite looked better…he was slowly regaining a peaceful stasis, groaning a bristle of pain but looking the more well. Another Marine, Samantha Whelski carefully stroked the Elite's wounds with her nimble fingers. The gore that depleted from Alei was drawing a near close and his black scales were gaining life.
"You have stirred the Covenant; human…the Prophet of Truth is offering compensation for the death of all of you. Especially you two…" The Brute grunted to the Alien Brethren, shouldering his Brute Shot with utter disgust and loathing. "The Covenant is calling you the Outlaw, Human…" He mumbled to Baxter. "And your friend is designated as the Exile, the traitor who turned before this pointless war"
Baxter ignored the sneering teases from the Brutes; he turned toward them with fiery eyes. "Where is Hailey?"
The pair of Brutes looked gleefully evil; they snorted mocks at him and bowed their hairy and matted backs to them.
"WHERE IS HAILEY?!" He demanded, his anger reaching its zenith.
The Brutes looked taken aback, their jaws perked in sneering jowls. "She is with the Prophet of Trust and Patience…and as soon as your friend wakes up you will have a little chat with them, and if you refuse…you will lose your son…"
Baxter shook his head angrily, he ignored the obsolete fact that the Covenant knew the gender of his unborn child, what flared his mind were the threats…
"Ignore them, Sergeant…they are trying to get to you" Whelski whispered from the holographic cot where Alei lay immobile.
Baxter nodded his head, and limped over to Alei, Kaskut and Whelski. "How is he?" He asked Whelski, not letting go of Hailey's fate. She gazed over his body, and took careful strokes at his wounds with gauze. "Good, he seems to be recovering quickly"
Baxter took his palms and rubbed them over his face, the cold sweat that beaded down his cheeks hinted a shadow of life. His smoking breathes exhaled through his lips and he relaxed them to the bond of nerve he still held intact…
* * *
The Derelict marched throughout the inlet quay, blasting their weapons during the silent of night. The Champion sat on his headship throne, declaring his urgent battle-strategy to the Handmaiden at his side.
"We will release the Flood onto whoever sets base on this ring, as you can see from the skies" He pointed upward toward the heavens, the space battles from the Covenant and Heretic forces were raging onward. "And as that battle reaches its extent, and they set foundation here, they will soon recognize the name…Champion" He hissed, shuddering to his pristine glory.
And as he discussed the greater aspects with his mate, the Exile finally woke…
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