An Elite's Tale

"See you in hell," Shadow said to the figure in front of him before blowing it away with his M90.

The booming shot echoed loudly in the narrow confines of the sub level hallways that were really more akin to tunnels. Luckily for him, the audio receivers built into his helmet filtered out most of the noise. They really were a godsend, those receivers. Any sound above eighty-five decibels were muted out. This allowed for a sense of 'no holds barred' when it came to close quarters combat.

He walked over to the dead alien and put the barrel of his shotgun to its head. One pull of the trigger blasted into a chunky mulch. The ODST turned and saw Joha walking up to him with an energy sword glowing bright in each hand. Although they were now allies, it was quite possibly the scariest image he had ever seen.

"Are you hurt?" the concerned Elite asked, ducking his head in the cramped space.

Shadow loaded two more shells into his M90 and angled his head at the dead Brute on the floor.

"He wishes," the ODST said.

Joha flicked the blades off and said, "The others have arrived. Come."

Shadow followed him back through the halls until the ceiling opened up. The blue and white armored Elite climbed out, turned, and offered his hand. The twelve-year ODST veteran hesitated. He sensed that this gesture was more than a simple help up, and the sincere look in the Elite's unbroken eye contact told him he was spot on. This was a test of trust.

He took the huge hand, knowing that this creature could easily tear his arm off if it wanted to, and used the support to climb out of the entrance to the network of sub level corridors. And true to the alien's word, backup had arrived. A group of figures further ahead, humans and Elites judging by their stature, were disappearing around the corner and further into the Throne Room. Two Elites however, had stayed behind. One was in green armor with a rounded helmet and was holding a Covenant Beam Rifle. The other, a Zealot, wore ornate maroon armor with white designs and a magnificent helmet that looked as though it could stop a sniper round, and probably had before.

The Zealot warbled something into some kind of device on his wrist, waited a moment, then looked over to the green one and spoke to him in Sangheili. The green one nodded as he listened, then turned to Joha and Shadow and relayed the message.

"He's lost contact with the Scarab team. Their last transmission left no room for hope. The Brutes are no doubt on their way here to help the Chieftain. You and I will go help the others kill him before they get here. He and Joha will stay here to halt their advance when they arrive."

That said, Joha's Energy Swords snapped back to life. The Zealot flicked out one of his own, one with a larger handle that had a gold tinge rather than pale blue.

"Let us go, before they have all the fun without us," the green armored alien told the ODST.

The two ran to the Throne Room and arrived in the middle of a full fledged showdown. In the center of the chamber, Tartarus was on the second of three floating and vertically stacked platforms fighting the Arbiter and two other Elites. He was furiously swinging the hammer and just barely missing as they ducked and dodged and delivered strikes of their own.