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Description
A Brotherhood Betrayed

Prologue: Civil War
  I leapt to my right, just narrowly missing the brute shot. I looked back just to see two of my brethren flying through the air. “Rike!” I yelled, fury coated my words. “My brother, you will be avenged.” I flicked on my sword. Twelve inches of pure plasma awaited its duty.
  I leapt for the nearest brute, my hooves left deep imprints in the light snow and the earth beneath it. I raged cursings in my native tongue. Bodies littered the ground, a palette of colors painted their background. I cringed slightly as the stench of death washed over me, but I was intent on having the brute’s head as my trophy.
I raised my sword and with a flick of my wrist, his head fell to the ground at my feet. I looked around, my jaws twitched at what I saw. The battle was over. The only beings still standing were Kesa Tesuume, a cowering grunt and myself. I am Vasse N’rome.

CHAPTER ONE
THE CHANGING OF THE GUARDS
  I stood back respectfully, letting the brutes through. What else was I to do? Rush forth and stab my pike into Tatarus’ chest? Most definitely not. Not in front of the entire council. Heresy would get me nowhere but dead.
  “We will be replacing the elite honor guards for they have proved themselves incapable of protecting your prophets with the death of Regret,” Truth’s raspy voice echoed throughout the vast space. “Brutes! March forth and take your rightful places!”
  “Gladly,” one chuckled. I cursed under my breath as I handed him my headdress and my pike. I noticed several brutes fighting over a headdress of another guard. ‘How tiresome,’ I thought to myself. I and several others had already started down the hall, our heads hung in shame. Rike clenched his fists as he joined me at my side.
  “How could the prophets betray our loyalty?” Rike fumed, “Our people have served them for centuries! They’d be nowhere without us!”
  “Quiet, my brother!” I hissed, “Would you like to be hung by your entrails along with this… this shame?”
  “Shame? I feel no shame! The prophets have shamed themselves! They are heretics!”
  “I said quiet now! You’ll be thrown to the jackals if you continue with your mindless rambling!” I warned, my tone stern and icy.
  “Fine, fine,” Rike grumbled, waving me away with his hand.
  “And yes, the prophets have shamed you… all of us with the changing of the guards,” I motioned towards the other outraged elites.
  “I still believe they are nothing but incompetent fools for what they have done!” He raged, shaking a fist in the air. The other elites looked up, curious expressions on their faces. I cursed at him and turned away. I would not be put to death because of his speech of heresy.
  Suddenly I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. I spun around; a low growl escaped my vocals. I eyed the sangheili commander angrily. What business did he have in my presence?
  “I have been assigned the duty of delivering to you, your new armor,” The commander said, almost gleefully. An expression of smugness plastered on his features. My eyes lowered to the metal in his hands. Fury swept over at the sight of the blue armor.
  “They demoted me to a MINOR?” I raged, “They went from trusting me with their lives to barely trusting me with a grunt's!”
  “Calm down, Vasse,” the commander chuckled, “and that’s an order.”
  “Bah,” I grumbled, waving him away as I turned my back to him. Minor or not, he has no business ordering me like a new Sangheili warrior, with no battlefield experience. I grabbed the armor from him before continuing down the hall, many other former guards passed by me, the familiar armor of a minor in hand. I heard several exclamations of, “How could they do this to us?” and “What could they have been thinking?” I shook my head; this had been a huge blow to the elite’s faith in the Covenant.
  I raised my head, my curiosity peaked as furious voices filled my ears, but that soon turned to dread once I recognized one of the voices. “Must I put you in your place, elite?” the brute spat, as if he’d just said the most vile thing imaginable.
“I am in my place. 'Tis you who needs placing!” The Sangheili warrior taunted. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me to the location of the furious argument, dropping the armor in the hall, forgetting about my previous irritation. I slipped on the hallway’s slick, metallic floor, almost falling as I turned the corner, into the open doorway. My eyes grew wide with alarm when I saw my fellow brother with the hilt of a fresh energy sword behind his back. It shimmered as he pressed the button, a fully charged blade, ready to take the head of his target.
“Rike, you fool!” I cried, frozen in place, unable to force my body into motion. “What are you doing?”
“This!” he yelled, a cry of victory floated through the air as the pure plasma pierced the brute’s chest.
“Heh. Foolish little whelp!” a brute laughed, grabbing Rike by the arm. I could not stand aside and watch my brother massacred by berserk apes, even if he had committed the ultimate crime. Heresy. He was still my brother, a fellow soldier who shared my blood. And had saved it too many times to count. I owed him my live a hundred times over. I could not watch him die. The brute’s arm was promptly sliced off. He cried out, falling to his knees, writhing in agony.
I rushed forward, pulling my dual plasma rifles from their holsters, ready to unleash hell upon these wretches. “You will die, heretic!” the brute laughed before I charged the rifles to the point of overheating and released the triggers. The stench of burnt flesh soon followed the deafening cry of pain.
“Maybe so, but not before you,” I said coldly, kicking the dying creature in the head. I stepped to Rike’s side, glancing around the room. I saw grunts fighting on both sides and elites against brutes. Strangely, there were no jackals in sight. An array of colors stained the metallic walls, cries of pain and victory filled my ears. This was the first battle of a civil war within the mighty covenant. The alliance was finally falling apart.

CHAPTER TWO
HERETICS
Rike and I replaced our weapons, cautiously leaving the room. We were the only survivors. We disposed of our old, blood-stained armor as soon as we got the chance and changed into our new armor. It took me a while to track mine down in the hall where I’d dropped it. We then continued on our way, as if we held no knowledge of the heretic battle that had occurred earlier that afternoon.
“What are you two doing?” a shipmaster barked. We cringed, wishing we could dissapear; wishing that our crime of heresy was never commited. Or at least I did. “Get to your posts! Your next mission is with the Arbiter.” His silver armor seemed to glow under the purple, radiating light of the armory.
“The Arbi- when was a new one assigned?” Rike asked in a confused tone.
“To your post!” The shipmaster bellowed, obviously finding it unnecessary to answer the question. Rike and I exchanged glances and jogged to the docking area.
“Which phantom?”
“That one,” he pointed, “Follow the Arbiter.” We quickly made our way to the grav lift. “Greetings, Arbiter,” Rike added respectfully as we passed by the Arbiter. He shot us an angry glare, making me uneasy.
There was a special ops. Elite at the gravity lift, handing out fresh weapons. I was handed two plasma rifles and an energy sword. He nodded respectfully to me as I stepped onto the lift. I immediately recognized him as a former honor guard.
Even with the hilt of the sword tight in my knuckles, my hands felt strangely empty without my pike. I turned the small bar over in my hand, eyeing the intricate symbols carved into it. As I took my place behind Kesa Tesumee, I overheard a conversation between the Arbiter and the ship commander, Rtas Vedumee.
“This armor suits you,” he stated but cannot hide that mark.” This peaked my curiosity. I looked at the Arbiter’s chest, the Mark of Shame burned into his skin. A shamed shipmaster. He’d let the demon destroy the sacred ring.
“Nothing ever will,” came the emotionless reply.
“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,” he answered before taking his place behind Rike.
The phantom soon approached the forerunner construct on the planet known by most as Threshold. A giant storm swirled around the installation. Thick red and brown winds made it almost impossible to see. I heard the words ‘heretic’ and ‘Sesa Refumee’ crackle over a speaker. ‘So that was our mission,’ I thought to myself, ‘We are here to kill heretics.’ I was ashamed to be on this mission, and in the presence of the Arbiter at that. I was a traitor of the Covenant; I deserved death.
Our drop ship hovered over a large metal landing area and single-file we were sent back through the gravity lift. Once on the ground we cautiously moved down a ramp. I had no idea where exactly we were supposed to go inside this installation. My duty was to follow and kill.
Our small, yet deathly efficient, group neared a door. “It’s locked.” I heard a Special Operations Commander mutter. He took a step forward and started working on the keypad to the side of the entrance. The door slid open with a soft hiss. “Engage active camouflage, reveal yourselves only after the Arbiter has engaged battle with the enemy!” he bellowed over the harsh winds. We all did as we were told. I watched the soft blur of the Arbiter’s camo, creep through the door, ready to kill anything that stood in his way.

Description
A Brotherhood Betrayed

Prologue: Civil War
  I leapt to my right, just narrowly missing the brute shot. I looked back just to see two of my brethren flying through the air. “Rike!” I yelled, fury coated my words. “My brother, you will be avenged.” I flicked on my sword. Twelve inches of pure plasma awaited its duty.
  I leapt for the nearest brute, my hooves left deep imprints in the light snow and the earth beneath it. I raged cursings in my native tongue. Bodies littered the ground, a palette of colors painted their background. I cringed slightly as the stench of death washed over me, but I was intent on having the brute’s head as my trophy.
I raised my sword and with a flick of my wrist, his head fell to the ground at my feet. I looked around, my jaws twitched at what I saw. The battle was over. The only beings still standing were Kesa Tesuume, a cowering grunt and myself. I am Vasse N’rome.

CHAPTER ONE
THE CHANGING OF THE GUARDS
  I stood back respectfully, letting the brutes through. What else was I to do? Rush forth and stab my pike into Tatarus’ chest? Most definitely not. Not in front of the entire council. Heresy would get me nowhere but dead.
  “We will be replacing the elite honor guards for they have proved themselves incapable of protecting your prophets with the death of Regret,” Truth’s raspy voice echoed throughout the vast space. “Brutes! March forth and take your rightful places!”
  “Gladly,” one chuckled. I cursed under my breath as I handed him my headdress and my pike. I noticed several brutes fighting over a headdress of another guard. ‘How tiresome,’ I thought to myself. I and several others had already started down the hall, our heads hung in shame. Rike clenched his fists as he joined me at my side.
  “How could the prophets betray our loyalty?” Rike fumed, “Our people have served them for centuries! They’d be nowhere without us!”
  “Quiet, my brother!” I hissed, “Would you like to be hung by your entrails along with this… this shame?”
  “Shame? I feel no shame! The prophets have shamed themselves! They are heretics!”
  “I said quiet now! You’ll be thrown to the jackals if you continue with your mindless rambling!” I warned, my tone stern and icy.
  “Fine, fine,” Rike grumbled, waving me away with his hand.
  “And yes, the prophets have shamed you… all of us with the changing of the guards,” I motioned towards the other outraged elites.
  “I still believe they are nothing but incompetent fools for what they have done!” He raged, shaking a fist in the air. The other elites looked up, curious expressions on their faces. I cursed at him and turned away. I would not be put to death because of his speech of heresy.
  Suddenly I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. I spun around; a low growl escaped my vocals. I eyed the sangheili commander angrily. What business did he have in my presence?
  “I have been assigned the duty of delivering to you, your new armor,” The commander said, almost gleefully. An expression of smugness plastered on his features. My eyes lowered to the metal in his hands. Fury swept over at the sight of the blue armor.
  “They demoted me to a MINOR?” I raged, “They went from trusting me with their lives to barely trusting me with a grunt's!”
  “Calm down, Vasse,” the commander chuckled, “and that’s an order.”
  “Bah,” I grumbled, waving him away as I turned my back to him. Minor or not, he has no business ordering me like a new Sangheili warrior, with no battlefield experience. I grabbed the armor from him before continuing down the hall, many other former guards passed by me, the familiar armor of a minor in hand. I heard several exclamations of, “How could they do this to us?” and “What could they have been thinking?” I shook my head; this had been a huge blow to the elite’s faith in the Covenant.
  I raised my head, my curiosity peaked as furious voices filled my ears, but that soon turned to dread once I recognized one of the voices. “Must I put you in your place, elite?” the brute spat, as if he’d just said the most vile thing imaginable.
“I am in my place. 'Tis you who needs placing!” The Sangheili warrior taunted. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me to the location of the furious argument, dropping the armor in the hall, forgetting about my previous irritation. I slipped on the hallway’s slick, metallic floor, almost falling as I turned the corner, into the open doorway. My eyes grew wide with alarm when I saw my fellow brother with the hilt of a fresh energy sword behind his back. It shimmered as he pressed the button, a fully charged blade, ready to take the head of his target.
“Rike, you fool!” I cried, frozen in place, unable to force my body into motion. “What are you doing?”
“This!” he yelled, a cry of victory floated through the air as the pure plasma pierced the brute’s chest.
“Heh. Foolish little whelp!” a brute laughed, grabbing Rike by the arm. I could not stand aside and watch my brother massacred by berserk apes, even if he had committed the ultimate crime. Heresy. He was still my brother, a fellow soldier who shared my blood. And had saved it too many times to count. I owed him my live a hundred times over. I could not watch him die. The brute’s arm was promptly sliced off. He cried out, falling to his knees, writhing in agony.
I rushed forward, pulling my dual plasma rifles from their holsters, ready to unleash hell upon these wretches. “You will die, heretic!” the brute laughed before I charged the rifles to the point of overheating and released the triggers. The stench of burnt flesh soon followed the deafening cry of pain.
“Maybe so, but not before you,” I said coldly, kicking the dying creature in the head. I stepped to Rike’s side, glancing around the room. I saw grunts fighting on both sides and elites against brutes. Strangely, there were no jackals in sight. An array of colors stained the metallic walls, cries of pain and victory filled my ears. This was the first battle of a civil war within the mighty covenant. The alliance was finally falling apart.

CHAPTER TWO
HERETICS
Rike and I replaced our weapons, cautiously leaving the room. We were the only survivors. We disposed of our old, blood-stained armor as soon as we got the chance and changed into our new armor. It took me a while to track mine down in the hall where I’d dropped it. We then continued on our way, as if we held no knowledge of the heretic battle that had occurred earlier that afternoon.
“What are you two doing?” a shipmaster barked. We cringed, wishing we could dissapear; wishing that our crime of heresy was never commited. Or at least I did. “Get to your posts! Your next mission is with the Arbiter.” His silver armor seemed to glow under the purple, radiating light of the armory.
“The Arbi- when was a new one assigned?” Rike asked in a confused tone.
“To your post!” The shipmaster bellowed, obviously finding it unnecessary to answer the question. Rike and I exchanged glances and jogged to the docking area.
“Which phantom?”
“That one,” he pointed, “Follow the Arbiter.” We quickly made our way to the grav lift. “Greetings, Arbiter,” Rike added respectfully as we passed by the Arbiter. He shot us an angry glare, making me uneasy.
There was a special ops. Elite at the gravity lift, handing out fresh weapons. I was handed two plasma rifles and an energy sword. He nodded respectfully to me as I stepped onto the lift. I immediately recognized him as a former honor guard.
Even with the hilt of the sword tight in my knuckles, my hands felt strangely empty without my pike. I turned the small bar over in my hand, eyeing the intricate symbols carved into it. As I took my place behind Kesa Tesumee, I overheard a conversation between the Arbiter and the ship commander, Rtas Vedumee.
“This armor suits you,” he stated but cannot hide that mark.” This peaked my curiosity. I looked at the Arbiter’s chest, the Mark of Shame burned into his skin. A shamed shipmaster. He’d let the demon destroy the sacred ring.
“Nothing ever will,” came the emotionless reply.
“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,” he answered before taking his place behind Rike.
The phantom soon approached the forerunner construct on the planet known by most as Threshold. A giant storm swirled around the installation. Thick red and brown winds made it almost impossible to see. I heard the words ‘heretic’ and ‘Sesa Refumee’ crackle over a speaker. ‘So that was our mission,’ I thought to myself, ‘We are here to kill heretics.’ I was ashamed to be on this mission, and in the presence of the Arbiter at that. I was a traitor of the Covenant; I deserved death.
Our drop ship hovered over a large metal landing area and single-file we were sent back through the gravity lift. Once on the ground we cautiously moved down a ramp. I had no idea where exactly we were supposed to go inside this installation. My duty was to follow and kill.
Our small, yet deathly efficient, group neared a door. “It’s locked.” I heard a Special Operations Commander mutter. He took a step forward and started working on the keypad to the side of the entrance. The door slid open with a soft hiss. “Engage active camouflage, reveal yourselves only after the Arbiter has engaged battle with the enemy!” he bellowed over the harsh winds. We all did as we were told. I watched the soft blur of the Arbiter’s camo, creep through the door, ready to kill anything that stood in his way.