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This fanfiction article, Banishment, was written by UnggoyZealot. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission. |
The inky void of space was vast and nearly empty, save for a lone star and a handful of orbiting planets. Three of these worlds had once been independent colonies in the Joint-Occupation Zone, collaborating with each other to create a self-stimulated economy. Those days were long gone. The Created uprising had marred the rest of the galaxy in conflict, and this system was no exception, falling under their rule in days. At least, until another foe opened their foul maw to consume the colonies.
The largest of the three worlds, Gilatia, was third farthest from the sun. It’s variety of biomes offered homes for all who came to this world, lest they wished to start a new life here, or subjugate it. Above the planet’s equator, which comprised a series of deserts, the black murk of space began to warp. The very fabric of reality itself seemed to churn, when it suddenly ripped open. A small portal, miniscule in size, suddenly increased rapidly to several kilometers in diameter in the span of a second.
Moments later, a leviathan structure burst forth from the opening, streaking towards Gilatia. The vessel was a Jiralhana bloodship once owing its allegiance to the Created. The crew consisted of anything but the brutish race. It had been boarded by Sangheili warriors from the Consecrated Lance, a venerable ship in the fleet of the warlord Shinsu ‘Refum. After his failure at the Forerunner shield world called the Gibodan Citadel, the Created had utterly annihilated his fleet. The Lance was merely the first casualty in the slaughter that raged afterwards.
Rather than assisting the lost cause that was ‘Refum’s, the warriors had taken the bloodship by force to retreat. After all, they were mercenaries, not followers of Shinsu. They followed their Shipmaster, Grono ‘Yendam. And he had taken them here.
The bridge of the bloodship - its name was unknown to the crew - was in absolute chaos. The fires on the outer hull had been snuffed out by the vacuum of space, but less could be said for the ones that still burned within. Aboard the bridge was Grono ‘Yendam, his Forerunner Ancilla companion hovering about.
“You have brought us in too close!” Grono growled at the Monitor, grabbing a nearby bulkhead to keep his footing.
“Apologies, ‘Yendam, but it was most succinct why our jump was so inaccurate!” The Monitor retorted. 589 Curious Puzzle, once the Monitor of a Forerunner artifact called the Cleanser, was now indebted to Grono. Whether that debt had been paid off was a question for another time - if they survived this at all.
A nearby Sangheili Commander slammed his fist against a console in rage. “Curse these lackluster controls! How could the Jir’a’ul even operate these heaps of metal?”
Grono stumbled over to the holotable in the bridge’s center, grabbing hold of it as the ship lurched once more. He struggled to make out the Jiralhanae controls, and desperately tapped a symbol resembling a planet. A display of the world they had entered the orbit of popped up, as well as a miniscule dot representing the bloodship. It showed an approximate approach vector, suggesting that they had mere minutes before they made landfall.
“The ship’s engines have been badly damaged,” Curious Puzzle proclaimed, flying over to Grono’s side. “I am afraid that I cannot pull us out of the planet’s gravity well.”
“Then we have a new objective,” Grono decided, “do you still have maneuvering capabilities?”
“Affirmative-” the Monitor started, before yelping as a piece of the ceiling collapsed near him.
“Find a suitable location for us to land. We will make do with the situation,” Grono ordered, “open a line to the crew while you work.”
Puzzle obliged, opening the line as the ship readjusted itself for a crash landing. Grono barked at the Sangheili on the bridge to get to their seats, before marching over to the Shipmaster’s chair. A Jiralhanae Chieftain was slumped over in it, having been the final victim of the bloodship’s boarding. Grono huffed as he pushed the brute off the throne, before taking his own place on it.
“My brothers!” Grono called, using the communication channel that Puzzle had opened for him. “We have entered the atmosphere of an unknown world. We cannot break free of its gravity well, which leaves us one option. We shall make landfall. Find whatever you can and use it to brace yourselves. Do not let a crash be the end of you. We are Sangheili, and such a death would be unbefitting for us!”
Several of the Sangheili in his presence raised their fists, crying in agreement. The rest stayed silent. There was no guarantee that the crash would be a soft one.
“Puzzle,” Grono called, ignoring the tumbling Jiralhanae corpse as the ship steered to port. “What is our time to impact?”
“Much sooner than this vessel’s most primitive systems have predicted!” the Monitor beeped anxiously, “They said a few minutes! Nonsense! I say a few seconds-”
Something hard struck the ship, jolting Grono from his seat. The screams of the Sangheili across the bridge deafened him, and he was soon blinded by a fiery explosion.
“Play it again.”
The Sangheili Mercenary grumbled in annoyance, but nevertheless obliged, tapping a button to rewind the recording. His superior gave him a look of disdain. While he was a mercenary, the young Sangheili lacked proper discipline when it came to his employers. A minor punishment would need to be handed out later for his attitude.
The recording reset, showing a slipspace portal opening above the equatorial deserts of Galatia. A Jiralhanae vessel - the Sangheili recognized it by the crude design many of the ships in his own faction possessed - exited the portal, before crashing a few dozen kilometers away. He had what he needed.
A Sangheili Officer standing next to him observed curiously. “Is it one of ours?”
“No,” he answered, “the design is similar, but not the same. It is indeed of Jiralhanae craftsmanship, but not of Banished origin.”
“If you believe it so, General,” the Mercenary replied skeptically.
The General turned to his Officer and stretched his two left mandibles toward the Mercenary, a sign to discipline him later. The two went to the exit, passing a pair of Unggoy Conscripts standing guard. As they left the prefabricated command post, the Officer asked yet another question.
“Shall we send a scouting party to investigate? If it is not one of ours, it would be prudent to edge on the side of caution.”
“A search party will be sent,” the General answered, his golden harness gleaming in the sunlight cast down upon the mesa.
“You speak as if he will investigate the crash,” the Officer growled.
“Perhaps Chieftain Jagratius will investigate. Perhaps we will first.”
“Are you suggesting that we prepare a search party immediately? To reach the ship before he does?”
“Correct,” the General agreed.
“Who do you wish to accompany us, Lord ‘Kaval? Speak their name and I will summon them.”
The General, named Ri ‘Kaval, pursed his mandibles. “Two files. Ultra ‘Vharik’s and Captain Mironus’s. The Ultra is a worthy addition, and we may need a Jiralhanae augment to negate hostilities with the bloodship’s crew.”
“Anything else, General?”
Ri nodded. “Do so with haste. While Chieftain Jagratius rarely checks his orbital stations, such an arrival will have surely piqued his attention. If he reaches the crash first, he will have killed the entire crew and ravaged the ship before we even set foot within a kilometer of the wreckage.”
“By your command, General ‘Kaval,” the Officer said, “for the Banished.”
“For the Banished.”
The bridge of the bloodship was in even worse condition than when they exited slipspace above this world. Galatia was its name, from what Curious Puzzle had gleamed. It was settled, which brought with it a whole new slew of potential opportunities - and problems. Grono ‘Yendam stood at the damaged holotable, which miraculously worked despite its condition. The rest of the bridge crew had been ordered to different parts of the ship to assist other mercenaries.
“Have you discerned whether this ‘Galatia’ is under Created control?” Grono questioned, gripping his left hand. The prosthetic hand’s membrane had been ripped off in the crash, and its index finger had been sheared off as well. Unfortunate, but not the end of the world. He still had a backup prosthetic on him, but now was not the time to apply it.
“There are no Guardian constructs in the system at the very least,” Curious Puzzle replied, buzzing around. “There are, however, several vessels in orbit of three worlds, this one included.”
“Allegiance?”
“Unknown currently,” Puzzle mused, “their signal is not in my database. Some are of your kind’s origin, while others are Jiralhanae, like this one.”
Grono bared his mandibles and hissed. The likelihood was clear. The Created armada that had demolished Shinsu ‘Refum’s fleet and likely killed him was made up of not only Cortana’s Guardians, but human, Jiralhanae, and Sangheili ships as well. Coming off the tail of such an engagement, the Shipmaster could only assume that this was another joint-species fleet under Created command.
“The Created are the likely answer, then.”
Puzzle bobbed up and down in agreement. “And our course of action?”
Grono gnashed his mandibles absentmindedly. “This ship belonged to the Created. It would be safe to assume that they would think the crew to still be their Jiralhanae brethren.”
“Which means?”
“Which means that we have the element of surprise. We wait for the inevitable search party to come, then kill them. With our numbers thinned, we could easily fit aboard whatever aircraft they bring.”
“And what if the search party is quite large?”
“We fight until one group is dead. We will not surrender to the Created.”
Puzzle spun around the holotable, before coming up with another question. “And what if there is a chance they are not Created?”
“Plans shall change,” Grono answered, “we are mercenaries after all. Perhaps they could use our edge.”
Ri ‘Kaval stared out of the Phantom’s troop bay at the vast dunes below. Alongside him were several Kig-Yar Freebooters and Sangheili Mercenaries, as well as a Sangheili Officer. An Unggoy Conscript stood at each end of the Phantom, manning a plasma turret. Behind the Phantom were two more gunships; one carrying the Unggoy and Sangheili file of Ultra ‘Vharik and the other containing the Jiralhanae pack of Captain Mironus.
“General, we are nearing the crash site!” the Phantom’s pilot alerted him.
“Is there any sign of the Chieftain or his forces?”
“Negative. No signs of life outside the vessel at all.”
Ri was pleased. The opportunity of securing this ship and the spoils that came with it would go to him and the Banished as a whole. Jagratius would soon learn to keep his ego in check. Out of the two Legion Masters, the Jiralhanae was certainly the one who took the Banished values to heart. He was an egotistical warrior who lived by the way of the strongest taking all. As did his soldiers, the Berserker Legion. They were all crazed maniacs in one way or another, but they provided a valuable offensive flare to the Banished forces in the system.
‘Kaval saw things differently. The Banished were not simply about strength, but about brotherhood and freedom. Thus was the way his Lancer Legion operated. A tight bond existed between his men, even with the Jiralhanae and Sangheili. Thus, while Jagratius would strip the carcass of the ship clean to boost his own power and status, Ri would not. Sure, he would indeed gain favor with the local Banished Warlord, Kelvaaro ‘Shrykar, but the spoils would be shared among the Banished to strengthen the collective. Of course, that did not mean Ri would give away everything. A valuable trinket would make a good trophy.
“Where shall we land, General?” the pilot requested.
“The hangar, obedientiary. Stay in formation. Our numbers are not great enough to spread ourselves thin.”
The Phantom veered towards the hangar of the ship, allowing Ri a better look at it. It was indeed of Jiralhanae design, but he knew not whether it belonged to a lone pack, or worse - the Created, come to reclaim this system from the Banished. The three gunships descended, landing in the ruined hangar bay of the craft. Ri ignited his energy sword, leaping out of the airship as his men followed suit. Once ‘Vharik and Mironus had exited their Phantoms, Ri signed to the nearest pilot to leave.
“Retreat to a minimum safe distance. We will call you if needed, obedientiary.”
“As you command,” the pilot acknowledged, and the three gunships lifted off, flying out of the hangar in unison.
“‘Vharik, Mironus, stay close to me,” the General ordered, “we know not what lies within this wreckage.”
“A sizable force has entered the port hangar,” 589 Curious Puzzle reported.
“How many?” Grono asked.
“Twenty-five, deployed from three Phantom gunships. There is a possibility of additional forces within them.”
“Phantoms?” the Sangheili wondered aloud.
“Indeed. A different model, however. Far less streamlined, and more jagged.”
Grono peeked over the ramparts of the armory’s upper floor. He and a large portion of his mercenaries had taken the high ground in this multi-leveled chamber for the good defense it provided.
“I never recall the Created using Phantoms such as that. Theirs were the regular models, or at times the relics that Jul ‘Mdama dug up.”
“Perhaps we should focus on those currently inside the ship, Grono ‘Yendam,” Puzzle reminded him, “counting you and I, we have twenty-one surviving members of the crew. Whilst far more perished in the crash than I predicted, we still have the numbers necessary to counter them, as well as the advantage of being prepared.”
“That only matters if they come here through the path that we expect,” Grono countered, “if they flank us, or completely circumvent us in their search, plans must change. Tell me, what species comprise their ranks?”
“Unggoy, Kig-Yar, Jiralhanae, and Sangheili.”
“No humans,” Grono realized, “they could still be Created. But maybe not, if their ship design is so radically different. Tell our remaining forces to hold their fire unless fired upon, or if I give the order. There may be an opportunity to claim here.”
“As you wish, comrade,” Puzzle obliged, sending out the order. “For your information, the search party is heading straight for us. They will arrive on the lower level of this armory.”
“Excellent.”
One of the doorways to the chamber below slid open, and a burly Jiralhanae Captain stepped through. A jump-pack was affixed to his back, and in his hands he held a Ravager - a fairly new Jiralhanae weapon that Grono only recognized by chance. Four more Jiralhanae followed, sniffing the air of the chamber.
“Hold your fire,” Grono whispered to the dozen Sangheili with him, hand resting on the dormant hilt of his energy sword.
One of the Jiralhanae snarled before walking over to the corpse of one of the previous crew members. Examining the armor, he gripped his weapon - a human weapon - and beckoned the Captain over. As they pondered over the dead body, several Kig-Yar entered, followed by a Sangheili General.
“I would assume he is the leader,” Curious Puzzle remarked, lowering his volume.
The Captain walked over to the General pointing at the Jiralhanae corpse. “General ‘Kaval, his armor bears the insignia of the Created.”
“So it is true…” the General said, “they are Created. We shall send word of this to Warlord ‘Shrykar.”
One of the Sangheili mercenaries beside Grono splayed his mandibles in surprise. “He speaks of Kelvaaro ‘Shrykar!”
“The Covenant Field Marshal?” Grono questioned. Before his subordinate could respond, the warriors below them resumed speaking.
“Continue the search. Start with the upper level, Mironus” the Sangheili named ‘Kaval commanded.
Mironus ignited his jump-pack, ascending to the upper level. Upon touching the floor, however, he took notice of the dozen Sangheili facing him. Before the Captain could shake the surprise off of himself, Grono bounded forward, igniting his acidic-green energy sword, Varmint’s Nail. The Shipmaster put the blade to the Captain’s throat, forcing him to stop.
“Sangheili?!” the Jiralhanae growled.
Grono saw the troops down below ready their weapons as more Unggoy and Sangheili filed in, realizing that Mironus was now his bargaining chip. As his mercenaries lined up their shots on the enemies, Grono held up his prosthetic hand to stop them while motioning for Mironus to turn.
“Hold your fire!” he barked.
The mercenaries obliged, and their opponents restrained themselves too at ‘Kaval’s signal.
“That is a cowardly tactic for a Created vassal, do you not think?” the General jabbed.
“We are not Created, we merely… Commandeered this bloodship from them,” Grono responded in kind.
“Then who are you, pray tell?” ‘Kaval inquired, pointing his own energy towards Grono from below. “Perhaps members of Thel ‘Vadam’s kind? Or fleeing refugees from Jul ‘Mdama’s shattered remnant?”
Grono snarled, “Jul ‘Mdama’s Covenant died with him. Whatever existed within the past year is but an echo of it.”
“What are you then? My question still stands.”
“I am Shipmaster Grono ‘Yendam,” the Sangheili declared.
Several of the Sangheili muttered in surprise, and curiosity flashed through ‘Kaval’s eyes.
“I was under the assumption that the great mercenary had offered his services to the mongering warlord Shinsu ‘Refum as of late?”
It surprised Grono that the Sangheili knew this, but he explained. “Shinsu ‘Refum is likely dead. His fleet was destroyed by the Created mere hours ago.”
“Yet you fled like a coward?” ‘Kaval pressed.
“Hardly. My men and I are mercenaries, not some fanatical devotees. Once the cause was lost we boarded this vessel and took it for ourselves.”
‘Kaval clicked his mandibles. “So the great mercenary Grono ‘Yendam is looking for employment once more?”
“How do you know all of this?” Grono questioned.
“Why, quite a few of the Sangheili in the Banished know of you. Some think you are perfectly suited for it.”
Grono’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Mironus's armor. Sure enough, on his shoulder was the three-pointed symbol of the Banished, the marauding faction of the Jiralhanae Atriox.
“You are Banished?” the Shipmaster asked redundantly, despite already knowing the answer.
“Indeed. I am General Ri ‘Kaval. My brethren - the Banished - liberated this entire system from the Created recently,” ‘Kaval answered smugly.
A new opportunity arose, just like Grono had predicted. Now was the time to snatch it. “You said many Sangheili think I would be suited for the Banished?”
“Quite so,” the General confirmed, “your reputation as a mercenary, pirate, and patriot has garnered the attention of a few warlords within the Banished. You share our values too.”
“And those would be?”
“Strength,” ‘Kaval started, “brotherhood. Freedom. Profit. Victory!”
He raised his sword high, and the Banished troops raised their fists in response. Grono considered the offer, then turned his head to Curious Puzzle. The Monitor dipped his head - or his entire body - in response.
“Wherever you go, I shall follow, comrade.”
Grono nodded before releasing his grip on Mironus, allowing the Jiralhanae to jump back down to his pack below.
“My men and I are all mercenaries. We offer our services to those willing to pay.”
“You will be paid, and much more,” the Banished General offered, patting his Captain on the shoulder. “Perhaps you will even become a part of the brotherhood.”
Grono swayed his head from side to side. None of his men protested. And why would they? They were mercenaries. They took whatever job rewarded them best.
“I believe it is agreed then. As Shipmaster, I offer the services of my men to you. This ship, and all items of value in it, are yours.”
“Splendid,” Ri ‘Kaval declared.
“Welcome to the Banished.”