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The High Charity <1-2>
Posted By: Tenebrous Proficient<ForbiddenDeity@hotmail.com>
Date: 3 January 2005, 2:31 AM


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Records of the Last Days of the High Charity

Episode the First
Intermediary Segment

      - Continued from the Former Segment -

      The messenger's arrival had surprised Rago. His squadron of thirty-two had found sanctuary by delving into a well-armored structure they found in one of the religious districts of the High Charity. It was a Tranquility Bazaar, they had guessed, where citizens of the Covenant came to buy peace, silence, and all the hallucinogenic drinks and injections that came with. Rago 'Tarkomee had made an explicit order that all of the market's wares were not to be sampled; it would not improve their chances of survival. Why the Bazaar was so well fortified was unclear to Rago and his team, perhaps it had once been a temple in the earlier days of the High Charity. Whatever the reason, they were fortunate to have come across the building.

      Rago's team had found a hidden cargo room in their searching, where some of the more potent and illegal substances had been kept. The door was very strong, and it could be easily defended. By some lucky coincidence, they found an unmolested fusion core, and installed it so that they could have their own electricity. Ever since the High Charity's Forerunner battery had disengaged itself and flew off into the void, the entire city had been out of power. It seemed no region had been immune to the black outs, the system malfunctions, the destruction that had followed when grav-lifts ceased to work. Buildings whose foundations were of manipulated gravity fell and shattered. It had plunged the already disordered city into further chaos.

      Since then, the survivors led by Rago 'Tarkomee had lost nine soldiers: five Sangheili and four Unggoy. They had survived four skirmishes from the Prophet's Chosen, as their enemy called themselves, but Rago doubted it was the end. He knew that some of the Chosen, primarily the Kig-Yar who favored medicinal serenity, had also made their temporary homes in the Tranquility Bazaar.

      Though nearly all of the Brutes, the accursed Jiralhanae so scorned by the Sangheili, had been taken with the Forerunner ship into some curious beyond, the Yanme'e and Kig-Yar's presence remained strong. Some of the more overzealous Prophets had stayed as well, eager to reclaim the High Charity from the insurgents. All of the escape ships had been exhausted, and there was no room for them to go. Likewise, the now condemned races of the Covenant had to stay as well, to fight or die. Those that refused to flee saw the ultimate reward, the High Charity; whoever stood victorious would take the great city for their own.

      But while the Prophet's Chosen had regrouped into some kind of an organized force, the banished races had remained separated, without leadership. They were either hiding within the abandoned districts and lower scaffolding that stretched for miles underneath the actual city, or they fought to their deaths within the city. The sacred quarters Rago took refuge in were at least somewhat protected from the bloodbath that took thousands of new corpses every time unit. To go into the regular districts was to give up your life. And as for those that didn't, it was only a matter of time before the Chosen found and eliminated every pocket resistance.

      That's what surprised Rago 'Tarkomee. He had not even suspected that he would find another rebel, but a rebel had found him! The mere presence of the white-armored Unggoy messenger... it preached unto him that there was some hope, someone else out there, an ally. How close were they? How powerful? He didn't know. But it was nevertheless important.

      Rago took the data-projector and placed it in the middle of the room. He inserted his finger into a blinking depression and the machine lit up like a flare. After a few seconds, a foggy hologram appeared above it. It was a Sangheili, ceremonial black armor, large headdress, the uniform of the High Council. Rago had once memorized all of the members' names, but he had never been able to remember them.

      The councilor stood there for a moment, and then began, waving his hands around for emphasis. He was elegant, authoritative and his figure demanded attention. He spoke in Sangheilish, but never before had the language commanded such respect. Such were his sayings:

       "I have come to call three races together. Sangheili, mighty and foremost, our iron heart; Lekgolo, strong and loyal, warriors of no disrespect; Unggoy, faithful and serving, stewards of earned repute; we together stand in the most holy and grandiose cities of Covenant make. We remain as the courageous, the vigilant, those who have recognized that there is cowardice in the act to flee. It is our purpose to stay, and we stay so as to retake this construct and prove to the Prophet's our right in the Covenant. We will renew the Great Pact, the Sangheili and Prophet will sit in equality with one another, and we will make the Journey side by side, neither one greater." Rago was content as of yet, though the mentioned equality did have a radical element to it. However, it was a promotion, of not only he but his entire race, and he could not argue against it.

      The councilor continued, "In these times of confusion, the ancient Syndicate has been reformed, and you will come to know of the intelligibility in which we will lead our most righteous warriors on this holy task of cleansing the High Charity. First, we must gather the dregs of our once glorious-"

      The hologram wavered as the floor convulsed, a shockwave of artillery fire. Dust fell to the floor. The Sangheili minors, just finished of their repast, froze in the haunting suspicion of an attack.

       "Fools!" Rago leapt into action. "Armor, now!" he roared, racing for his own helmet and weapons.

      Too late, the ceiling exploded just over the feasting table. The Sangheili directly below fell, crushed to death underneath blackened stone. Those who could evade the explosion bolted towards scavenged weapons. The Unggoy conscripts quickly hoisted methane tanks on their backs. The only ones who were ready for the fight were Edebu and Udobo, who quickly positioned themselves under the newly-blasted fissure, releasing salvos of green fuel rod plasma into the void above. The larger one, Edebu, bellowed out a guttural remark, but Rago couldn't speak Kgolo. Armed with a plasma rifle, Rago himself marched under the shadow of the two Lekgolo warriors and peered up through the hole into the darkness of the High Charity.

       "A Phantom!" Hrenghez translated at last, but Rago had already confirmed the threat. What couldn't be explained in such short mention was exactly what the Phantom was doing.

      The singular Phantom held a Wraith in its gravity lift. Upside down, the Wraith artillery tank had the angle it needed to fire plasma mortar down onto their position. As the two machines dropped closer to the structure, the Wraith readied another shot. The two Lekgolo had inflicted serious damage on the Phantom; they were some of the best shots Rago had ever seen, coming from Lekgolo kind, it nearly disarmed the ship entirely. But it wasn't enough.

      His enemy had outsmarted them. One Phantom didn't have enough concussive power to shatter six units of super-condensed rock, and a Wraith didn't have the maneuverability to get so high into the rooftops of the High Charity as to lay siege to their base. Together... well, now they had to evacuate their precious stronghold.

       "Clear the room! Get to the lower levels!" Rago yelled. Scarlet fire from the Phantom showered into the room, and the smell of ozone became so strong Rago's eyes watered.

      Rago's ragged group of survivors crowded around the door, and it took only seconds for the gateway to unlock itself and open, but it was too late. Behind them, a glistening ball of blue plasma mortar drifted through the gash in the ceiling and into their blessed Hold. Two Unggoy and another Sangheili were caught in the wave, and the rest without energy shields were seared by the heat until skin and scale smelled of cooked meat. The stone rooftop started crumbling; huge slabs tumbled onto the floor, some with such force they continued their path to the level below. Hrengez nearly fell into one of these fractures, when Udobo scooped him up. The door opened, and the remnants of Rago's squad escaped their sanctuary.

- Continued on the Latter Segment -





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