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Through the Eyes of a Heretic by The Reclaimer
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Through the Eyes of a Heretic- Part I
Date: 23 February 2006, 10:32 pm
Fan Fiction- Through a Heretic's Eyes- Part I
The Zealot awakened from hypersleep. His eyes were weary; they shouldn't have been here this early.
"High Charity," He paused as he looked through the viewscreen of the command center of the covenant, a massive city the size of most moons that had survived three ages of the Covenant. "I am not welcome here anymore."
A message appeared on the viewscreen. The Zealot sighed as he read it:
Destination: Jaundice and Legacy
Priority: Level 1
Sent Location: High Charity, High Chamber of the Hierarchs
Zealot Zuka 'Fulamnee
Your colossal failure of the destruction of Halo cannot be overseen and treated as a small incident. You had the sole responsibility to destroy one injured human vessel and protect a Holy structure erected by no other than the Forerunners. You have failed in each of these objectives and will be condemned to treason and heresy.
You may wish to request an audience to combat and testify before the high council your acts and possibly have this great disgrace lifted off your head. If not, you may be martyred for an act you did not commit.
We have spared your ship from being destroyed simply based on the fact that you are one of our most valuable soldiers and have became experienced in the combat and tactics of the humans.
Truth, Mercy, Regret
Prophet Hierarchs of the Covenant
"Shall I testify? Or burn in the rubble that I have let Halo become?" The Zealot called one of his best in.
"Yes, High commander?" The Purifier asked.
"I know that I am guilty of the Destruction of Halo. But I have one question for you."
"What do you ask of?"
"Should I kill myself in shame and escape the wrath of the Prophets? Or show in front of the Council and pay for the actions that I am responsible for?"
"Do what is best for the council- The Covenant."
"I shall not take the coward's way out of this travesty that I have created. Ready a Seraph Fighter to take me to the council."
"Aye, sir. One question, sir?"
"You may proceed."
"If you are convicted, what will become of you?"
There was a long pause between the two Sangheli.
"That- I am not sure of."
Part II
"Zuka 'Fulamnee! What has happened here?" A white armor clad elite ran out to the Seraph.
"My friend, I have made a colossal failure."
"I have been sent to escort you to the council. My Lord, I hope the Prophets have mercy."
The two walked through the chambers. Hundreds of troops stood in there, motionless. A path had been carved out of where they dare not stand. It was dead silent, so much to the point where the only noise was the clopping of their hooves on the metallic ground.
"They are expecting you," An honor guard said as they approached the door. "Follow me."
"The High Zealot Zuka 'Fulamnee requests an audience with the council regarding the destruction of the sacred ring."
The entire chamber silenced. Finally, a Prophet on a hover throne moved forward and spoke.
"You have our attention, Zealot. Do you wish to combat your actions?"
There was a silence from the Zealot. "Yes. I do wish to express my actions regarding this mistake."
"Mistake? This is much more than a mistake. This is worthy of treason. This has excelled farther than any mistake!" a young prophet yelled from his seat.
"Enough! There shall be order in this council. You may proceed, zealot."
"I do understand the weight of my actions, but we were overwhelmed."
"How many ships were you against?" The Prophet of Regret asked.
There was a pause and an uneasy feeling growing in the Zealot's stomach. "There was only one ship."
"One. Are you sure?"
"Yes. They called it The Pillar of Autumn."
The Older Prophet of mercy spoke up. "Why was it not destroyed with the rest of their fleet?"
"It fled. As we set fire to their planet. But I followed with all the ships in my command."
A confused look grew across The Prophet of Truth's face. "When you first saw Halo, were you blinded by its majesty?"
The Zealot became confused at this question. "Blinded?"
"This is not good." The escort whispered.
"Paralyzed? Dumbstruck?" Regret added to the question.
"No." The Zealot said defensively.
"Yet the humans were able to evade your ships, land on the Sacred Ring, and desecrate it with their filthy footsteps!" The Prophet of Regret exclaimed.
"Noble Hierarchs, surely you understand that once the parasite attacked-" The Zealot was interrupted by a buzz that grew to a sea of indignant clamoring.
"There will be order in this council!"
"You were right to focus your attention on the Flood, but this demon, this 'Master Chief'" the prophet of Truth continued.
"By the time I learned the Demon's intent, there was nothing I could do." The Zealot added.
There was a pause followed by The prophet of Mercy whispering in Truth's ear.
"You are one of our most treasured instruments. Long have you led your fleet with honor and distinction, but your inability to safeguard Halo was a colossal failure." Truth said.
"Nay! It was heresy!" a councilor yelled.
A outburst of yells rang across the chamber, echoing back and forth his failure.
"I will continue my campaign against the humans." The Zealot declared.
"No! You will not!" The Prophet of Truth exclaimed.
A pair of Jiralhanae move in to arrest him and remove him from the room. He tensed up as to challenge them and they backed off.
The Prophet of Truth continued. "Soon The Great Journey shall begin," the zealot looked back and walked back to the entrance. "But when it does, the weight of your heresy will stay your feet. And you shall be left behind."
Part III
Date: 23 February 2006, 10:36 pm
Part III
The Disgraced walked out of the chamber into the hallway where he was met by Tartarus, who immediately punched him in the stomach, making him fall to the floor.
"Your head is to be lower than ours, all of us." He declared.
They continued through to a door that went to the elevator. The Honor Guard silently opened the door. A rush of sound nearly knocked the Disgraced over even more.
The words Heretic and Treason echoed across the spectator's seats across the platform where he was headed to.
He was moved to his location and was latched in to the restraints. Tartarus moved forward. "You've drawn quite a crowd." The Disgrace of a zealot causes a large crowd naturally.
"If they came to see me beg, they will be disappointed." The Disgraced replied sternly to him.
"Are you sure?" Then Tartarus pulled a latch and an orange beam pulse out and hit the Disgraced. He felt himself burning, his reputation burning away. This went on for about two minutes, and then stopped when his armor was completely blackened.
Then Tartarus pushed another latch in, and a red hot brand rose before him. The crowd rose in sound responding to the final part of the Disgracing process- the brand. The symbol appeared in the middle of the brand- the mark of heresy. He barely saw it before the brute rammed the object into his chest. He felt burning again, this time worse. He was a heretic, worthy of neither death nor life. He yelled as it killed his life, his soul could not be saved from damnation.
Two brutes followed Tartarus in leaving. They merely picked the Disgraced up and held him and the elevator opened up and pulled them down. The Disgraced spoke up.
"Where are we going? Am I going to my death now?"
"No! You are to be placed in the condemned cells after one last audience with the Prophets. You shall not have the easy way out."
The disgraced passed out and was awakened by murmuring from the two brutes.
"How much further must we heft this baggage? Any cell will do." One of the brutes said.
"Why not toss him in with this lot?"
"They could use the meat."
"Them? what about us? My belly aches! And his flesh is seared just the way I like it."
"Quiet!" Tartarus yelled to stop the banter. "You two whimper like grunts fresh off the teat! He's not meant for the jails. The Hierarchs have something special in mind." He opened the door to a massive room, and inside the room was The Mausoleum.
They walked in. Honor guards lined the hall to the room. The door opened and there were the two Prophets Truth and Mercy inside.
"Noble Prophets of Truth and Mercy: I have brought the incompetent."
"You may leave, Tartarus."
"But- I thought", Tartarus wanted front row seats to his death.
"And take your brutes with you."
Tartarus said under his breath, "Release the prisoner."
The three brutes left slowly so they could possibly see some death.
The Noble Prophet of Truth spoke up. "The council decided to have you hung by your entrails and your corpse paraded throughout the city. But ultimately the terms of your execution are up to me."
"I am already dead."
"Indeed. Do you know where we are?"
"The Mausoleum of The Arbiter."
"Quite so. Here lies the vanguard of the Great Journey; Every Arbiter from first to last. Each one created and consumed in times of extraordinary crisis."
"The taming of the Hunters, the Grunt Rebellion," the Prophet of Mercy interrupted. "Were it not for the Arbiters, the Covenant would have broken long ago."
He felt out of place in this sacred room. "Even on my knees I do not belong in their presence."
"Halo's destruction was your error, and you rightly bear the blame. But the council was…overzealous. We know you are no heretic. This is the true face of heresy," a small hologram of an elite with a weird apparatus attached to his back. "One who would subvert our faith and incite rebellion against the high Council." The prophet played the hologram.
"Our prophet's are false! Open your eyes, my brothers. They would use the faith of our forefathers to bring ruin to us all! The Great Journey is a" the Prophet brought the tape to an instant halt.
"This heretic, and those who follow him, must be silenced."
"Their slander offends all who walk the path." The Prophet of Mercy added.
"What use am I? I can no longer command ships, lead troops into battle-"
The Prophet of truth spoke in a low and raspy tone as to keep the idea under the table. "Not as you are, no. But become the Arbiter and you shall be set loose against this heresy with our blessing."
The Disgraced spoke to Truth. "What of the council?"
"The tasks you must undertake are perilous, suicidal. You will die as each Arbiter has before you. The council will have their corpse." The Prophet of Mercy declared with a sort of grittiness. A Pod with the suit of The Arbiter glided to where the Sangheli stood.
The Arbiter picked the helmet out of the pod and asked, "What would you have your Arbiter do?"
Part IV
"Where are we off to, my old friend?" The Arbiter asked the white clad elite. He had been through many battles, but this one was the most shrouded in secrecy. They walked towards the Phantoms.
"Our heretical enemies are residing on a makeshift base on the moon called basis, and the Mining Facility holding position over Threshold's surface. We are sending a Destroyer to mop up the Basis base. We are to take care of the Leader of these heretics personally. He is on The Mining Station."
"Is there anything else I should know?
"Yes. A recent transmission intercepted from the station says that there was an accidental interaction with an unknown species. Best keep your shield up and sword handy."
"Something doesn't feel right. Why would our Lord's creations be so lightly guarded?"
"There is a failsafe, Arbiter. The cable that suspends the station can be easily cut if anything gets way out of hand. Let's try to not have that happen. We have already lost one of the Forerunner's sacred installations." He gave a short chuckle to himself.
The Arbiter did not enjoy that joke. He was already condemned for his act; he didn't need a comedy hour to remind him of that.
They reached the Phantoms and loaded up. The Arbiter grabbed a handful of grenades. He also grabbed a plasma rifle and went into the gravity lift. He was then joined by a handful of Elites and then his friend. The ship's engines rumbled and he felt a jolt upward and then outwards. He was latching into his seat when Half- Jaw handed him a handle.
"This sword has been in my family for two ages. May it serve you well on you mission, Arbiter."
This sword reminded him of the old swords when they were still made as axes. They were truly beautiful back then, but only Honor Guards could use them.
"We are approaching the ring now."
The Arbiter's mind flooded with emotions as he saw the space junk, once a holy structure, floating off into space.
"Time to prepare for the battle," Half- Jaw said aside to himself. "When we joined the Covenant, we took an oath!"
The elites responded simultaneously, "According to our stations, all without exception!"
"On the blood of our fathers, on the blood of our sons, we swore to uphold the Covenant."
"Even to our dying breath!"
The Arbiter cringed at the next line of the battle preparedness. He knew what line was next.
"Those who would break this oath are Heretics, worthy of neither pity nor mercy! Even now, they use our lords' creations to broadcast their lies!"
"We shall grind them into dust!"
"And continue our march to glorious salvation!"
The Arbiter was not used to this. He was going to fight, to kill his brothers. No, they were no longer his brothers. They are Heretics now, and are already dead to him.
Half-Jaw approached the Arbiter. "This armor suits you, but it cannot hide that mark."
The Arbiter had accepted his fate. It was his responsibility. He has paid for it. Well, is about to pay. "Nothing ever will."
"You are the Arbiter, the will of the Prophets. But these are my elites. Their lives matter to me, yours does not."
"That makes two of us."
The leader huffed in respect. The Arbiter had totally accepted his fate.
The quiet was soon ended by the loudness of the wind on the Phantom. The radio crackled open. "Leader, no doubt, the storm will strike the facility."
"We will be long gone before it arrives."
The phantoms arrived very close to a building and rose about 10 feet from the building. The first elites dropped into the gravlift. The other phantoms released their grunts. The Arbiter was last to leave.
"Warriors prepare for combat!" Half Jaw then opened a personal com to The Arbiter. "We are the arm of the Prophets, Arbiter, and you are the blade. Be silent and swift and we shall quell this heresy without incident."
"Time to fulfill the Prophet's will."
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