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Evanangel (part 01)
Posted By: Jinkaiden-XI
Date: 5 October 2003, 12:12 AM
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Prologue
It is the year of our people, AD 2589. For fifteen years, humanity has been enslaved. Children are left hungry and homeless. Tens of thousands are murdered monthly, part of some Covenant idea of a holocaust.
When the revolution began in 2575, the Covenant had occupied all of Europe and most of Asia. The Americas had remained untouched. But for the most part, nobody was safe. And now people are forced to watch their loved ones be sacrificed, only to join them once the gunfire ceased and the fires settled down, having burned away their victims. But the revolution lives on. Large groups of rebel fighters, alongside what remains of the great armies, marched out of hiding and faced their opponent. They would have done good to stay where they were. If the Occupation didn't find them, their warheads would.
And so rages the revolution. The human population has dropped almost sixty million in number since the Covenant arrived in their mighty warships, all grouped in their vast armada.
But perhaps there is something out there. Something, someone, who can save all humanity and restore the Earth to its former glory.
_________________________________________
Hidden Eve
A round of gunfire. A fiery burst of light against the black skies. A shower of sparks, another soul lost. A child screams in terror, but nobody hears her. She is alone, kept away in the Hidden Eve.
The Hidden Eve is the last remaining operational structure in Angel Mesa. The once grand city, forever mighty of golden skyscrapers, now lies in ruin. The survivors of the continuous assaults sleep together in the shelter, hoping it will end soon and then they can leave to find any others that may be left. So far, they have found not one soul alive.
For now, they can only hope for a savior to drive away the seeping menace.
_________________________________________
Evanangel
In the heavens above drifts a graceful vessel among the stars. Before her lies the enslaved planet Earth, and the night is illuminated with the bright bursts of explosions. But still she hangs there, floating like a cloud in the tranquility of the night.
She is the warship Evanangel, a vessel of unknown origins. Nobody has ever known where she comes from or to whom she belongs, but she is a mystery indeed.
For those who believe in Evanangel, to say the savior of our universe is a warship is not fitting. One would simply laugh at this statement and dismiss it. But they are right. Evanangel is not simply a grand vessel, one that appears in awkward moments and delivers her message and is gone. To be more accurate, nobody is sure what Evanangel truly is. Some say it is a concept, others a state of mind. Some believe that the word represents an army of sorts, a force of unstoppable proportions.
But only time will tell. It will require patience and understanding before humanity can accept Evanangel for what it really is.
_________________________________________
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune system
Within a temple at the base of Mount Perihelion, a loyal servant of the High Priest approaches the God's Throne. He kneels, his robes draped over his shoulders and caressing the smooth marble floors.
"Your Grace, we have received word that the planet of the Spartan has been occupied by the Covenant armada."
A tired voice responds, "Truly? Then the Third Prophecy was correct. The Spartan faces dark times."
The servant raises his head to face his King. "But, Your Grace, the Spartan has yet to return to the planet. Surely he does not know of the situation."
The High Priest props his head up against his hand. With the other, he drums his fingers on the armrest of the throne. He sighs, then answers, "The Spartan shall be notified immediately. I cannot let him drift amongst the ignorant any longer."
"Yes, Your Grace. It is understood."
_________________________________________
Sol System
"You know, Cortana, I thought you had launched us into an Earth-return trajectory. What happened?"
Cortana snaps back, "It was not my navigational failure, Chief. I don't recall you doing much to assist me during the launch phases."
John, legendary Spartan project, leans back in his seat. For the past few years, he has spent much of his time aboard his fighter in a cryogenic hibernation. He no longer worries of the Covenant, the Flood, or Halo for that matter.
John sighs noisily. "Cortana, I'm so bored. Can't you do anything to get us out of this ship for a while?"
"I'm working on it, Chief. I'd say we only have enough fuel to reach Phaethon if we start now. The fuel cells are going to take quite a beating, though."
John is eager to get onto solid ground again. He replies, "Make it so, Cortana. Phaethon it is."
_________________________________________
Hidden Eve
The child cries harder. "Mother, where are you?"
Nobody steps forward. Nobody claims the girl; no one holds her close.
Above the rumbling Hidden Eve, resistance fighters push forward in a rage against the invading Covenant Occupation. The two forces collide directly above the shelter, striking terror in the hearts of the remaining population of Angel Mesa.
The resistance fighters quickly use up their ammunition. Having their guns and cannons useless, they all reach to their sides and unsheathe ornate blades. They are not like that of the Covenant energy swords, but simply long blades forged of strong metals and irons. They cry out, their voices shatter the dark air. The stars mix with the flames in a fiery and vibrant reflection that is given off the swords.
In a moment they charge, having their weapons in hand and hungry for the taste and smell of blood. With a series of sickening sounds, the resistance meets the Occupation and their blades pierce the enemy through. The Covenant soldiers react immediately, raising their plasma weapons and savagely countering their assault. Plasma grenades exchange airborne glances with fragmentation grenades as they rocket towards the opposition. And so they brutally fight, living creature against living creature, with nothing on their mind but victory.
_________________________________________
Sol System, trajectory bound for Phaethon
John the Spartan rests peacefully while Cortana manages the Long Sword. She too is peacefully tranquil, not uttering a word since she and John last exchanged thoughts. John wearily closes his eyes, hoping for a little sleep for the time being.
He is about to doze off when a ringing sound pounds his mind. Cortana switches the sound off, and then scans the communication link.
"Chief," Cortana calls, "we're receiving a communication signal. I'm intercepting now."
John sits upright in his seat, so to look presentable for his unwanted guest. "Very well. Activate the communication panel."
Almost instantly, a hologram screen flickers on before John's eyes. It shows a blurry image of a servant, perhaps even a knight, standing tall and mighty. He seems to gaze directly into John's eyes.
"I am Commander Glyvaennan of the Perihelion Temple. Greetings, Spartan."
John is immediately alert. Not once has he been contacted by a representative of the Phaethon government or armed forces. He assumes that something highly important has come up.
"Greetings, Commander. It is an honor to finally meet you, but I must admit I am puzzled."
Commander Glyvaennan nods gently. His tone is soothing, but very powerful at the same time. "Formalities will come later. Is your AI on board at this time?"
John gets an image of Cortana, who would probably be somewhat confused herself right now.
"Yes, Commander."
Glyvaennan seems to dismiss John at once. As if to face Cortana, he calls out, "Mistress Cortana, good to see you are doing well. I assume you are questioning the details behind my intrusion."
Cortana replies hastily, "Yes, Commander. For what purpose have we been contacted?"
"I come at the order of the High Priest. I apologize for such a rushed attempt to inform you of the situation on Earth."
John leans forward. He has become greatly interested. Cortana does not respond. John glares at the screen, knowing that his eyes cannot be seen through his visor. "Elaborate, please, Commander."
"Spartan, sometime between the years of AD 2570 and 2575, a mysterious Covenant armada arrived on Earth and quickly began dominating the planet's major cities and nations. I regret to inform you that over sixty million human lives have been taken by force or by sacrifice."
John's glare vanishes. His eyes open wide in shock and terror, in disbelief and fear. He is pained by the idea that his people are dying at this very moment, and here he sits, aboard a lone fighter in the middle of nowhere.
"What is being done about it?"
Glyvaennan does his best to look at anything but John. He can feel the sorrow and anger carved into his face. Whatever he must say will hurt the Spartan terribly, and it will hurt him to be the one to say it.
"Since then and to this day, humanity has fought a brutal and seemingly endless war against the Covenant. I salute them, Spartan. Yours is truly a gallant race."
John is devastated. He, for so long, dreamt of being free to live his own life as he so desired. And now it is too late; the Covenant have stolen that dream and dashed it to the floor.
"Thank you, Commander. I have ordered a course for Phaethon to be taken immediately. Please greet me when I arrive, as I shall be there shortly."
Commander Glyvaennan nods. "Very well, Spartan, it is to be done. We shall be waiting for you in the main docking bay of the Twilight Angel Sector. The best of luck in your journey."
"Thank you, Commander."
The window vaporizes and Glyvaennan's image fades away. The cockpit becomes dark again and John simply allows it to consume him. "Cortana, make sure we get to Phaethon as soon as possible. We have no time for delay."
"Sure thing, Chief."
_________________________________________
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune System
"Your Grace, the Spartan and the Mistress Cortana have been notified. They have set a direct course to this planet."
The High Priest nods. "Good, Commander. They are to be greeted honorably. Make it so, would you?"
Glyvaennan bows slightly. He raises his head and responds quietly, "Yes, Your Grace." With a turn he strides away, heading for the main docking bays. Upon arriving, he notices a great number of attendants preparing for the Spartan's arrival. Mooring cables are readied and a docking station is cleared and made somewhat noticeable. An officer walks by, causally monitoring the progress.
"Lieutenant!"
The officer spins around and salutes Glyvaennan. His green body armor shines in the pale light. "Yes, Commander?"
Glyvaennan steps forward. "Are these preparations indeed for the Spartan?"
"Yes, Commander. Word went out a few minutes ago that we were receiving a visitor. It was among my orders to make sure these preparations were complete in due time."
Glyvaennan gazes past the Lieutenant's shoulder and watches the attendants, who continue on as if nothing had changed. Numerous armed guards step forward and onto the platform, each with a long plasma rifle leaning against one shoulder. They are dressed ornately in battle uniforms, each stiff and skin-tight over their armor.
"Very well, Lieutenant. Notify me when the Spartan arrives. It is among my own orders to escort him to the God's Throne."
The Lieutenant salutes again. "Yes, Commander." He then swivels around stiffly and shouts orders to a group of attendants who have been slacking off. The attendants burst into action in a rush of surprise.
Glyvaennan watches for another minute or so, then turns away and heads for the control center.
_________________________________________
Hidden Eve
A chorus of prayers rises from the group of survivors as they all kneel before a cross that has been set up at the front of the room. A minister preaches from the Bible, reading from the Old Testament as the women and children weep. Between sermons, several hymns are chosen and the people all hold together while they wait for it to end. And then, as the third sermon of the evening ends, a moment of silence falls among the survivors.
All at once, a banging sound interrupts the silence. The main doors, which were cleverly hidden, vibrate slightly as a fist pounds on them roughly. Gasps escape the women's mouths and the children crawl into their mother's arms in fear.
"Hey, I think I found something!"
The survivors stop cold. The words are of a different accent, something that could not have been human. It must be Covenant, which would imply that the battle at Angel Mesa has been lost.
The pounding grows louder, this time as if several fists are slamming against it. Then there is quiet. The people within the room hold their breath, hoping for the best.
A plasma shot explodes across the steel door. A small hole melts away instantly, allowing a head to peer inside. "There are humans down here!"
The head pulls back and three more blasts burn away at the door. The women and children all begin to cry, some of them screaming, for they know they cannot be saved.
The door melts away at last, and six Covenant troops storm into the room. The minister raises a rifle and fires once, taking down a single Covenant soldier. The other five gun him down, which terrifies the children and makes them scream harder and much louder. The women clutch their sons and daughters closely as they back up against a wall.
One of the soldiers shouts, "There is a large group of humans down here. They appear to be unarmed. What shall we do with them?"
A voice from the doorway calls back as it attracts the attention of other soldiers. "A human is a human, weapon or no weapon. Kill them all. Spare nobody."
The women cry out in terror and fear, as tears stream down their faces. The five Covenant troops fire on five people, who are all killed instantly. The others leap from the floor and run for the second doorway, but they too meet a gruesome fate. They collapse to the floor in a heap as four more plasma rounds explode through the air.
The remainder of them leap from the floor and bolt for the entrance. They make it halfway up to the doorway before another group of Covenant soldiers bars their path. Within the next second, the ground is covered in lifeless, innocent women and children. Outside, fires rage over the ruins and the pale moonlight casts a cool glow on everything.
_________________________________________
Planet Phaethon, Clair de Lune System
As if to no delay, the tiny Long Sword fighter pulls up alongside the massive Phaethon satellite Somnus. The satellite is actually a major defense station, while also serving as a multiple purpose facility. It is from here that the eastern hemisphere of the planet is carefully monitored, and the third of eight moons can be seen at all times from the large bay windows that form many of the grayish-white walls.
As the fighter closes in on the satellite, two massive, hidden doors begin to pull apart from one another. They revealed a vast docking bay filled with large vessels and small ships. A great deal of commotion can be seen even at this distance, as if the crew was ready all along.
The Long Sword slowly drifts into one of the several hundred docking stations, and a crew dashes up to the ship and connects numerous mooring cables to the designated locks. Eight armed guards approach the fighter and stand at attention while Commander Glyvaennan waits for the loading ramp to slam down onto the thick steel platform.
At last the ramp touches down and a billowing cloud of steam and air formed by the pressure pours out and caresses the floor, sweeping past Glyvaennan's feet. John the Spartan steps out and onto the ramp, fully clad in his battle armor. His golden visor shimmers in the light.
"Greetings, Spartan. Glad to see you once more."
John nods as he cautiously heads down to the platform. His attention seems to be more focused on his surroundings than it does his reason for being here. "Thank you, Commander."
Glyvaennan quickly goes on, "The High Priest is awaiting your arrival. Shall I escort you to the God's Throne?"
John peers out at the distant planet Phaethon. "I thought the God's Throne was on Mount Perihelion."
Glyvaennan smiles. He gestures towards the door and indicates for the guards to follow. "You will see."
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