Halo Fanon
Advertisement
Fanon of the MonthDT Open Spaces Hog
Terminal This fanfiction article, Solipsis: A Halo Story, was written by DinoKillahBTW. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission.
Help This fanfiction article, Solipsis: A Halo Story, is currently under active construction.
Super optimal The author of this article, Solipsis: A Halo Story, urges anyone who reads it to provide feedback on the quality of the article. Thank you!
Solipsis: A Halo Story
Solipsis - A Halo Story (Book Cover)
Protagonist
Antagonist
  • Arkarum
  • Ternerus
Author DinoKiller65
Story Series The Open Spaces
[Source]

Plot Summary[]

2559.

As humanity continues to recover from the devastating effects of the Reclamation, a galaxy-wide blackout that saw the rise of the Created, an allegiance of renegade artificial intelligences as a galactic superpower, Anthony Joshua and his friends try to go on with their everyday lives at the research colony of Prospero. 

Unbeknownst to them, a Banished invasion force looms above their home, led by Arkarum, a disgraced warlord who seeks to restore his honor by any means necessary. Their only hope of survival is Exra ‘Kasum, a Sangheili warrioress hiding a mysterious past, and fellow deserters Bok Rug and Badab, as they undertake a perilous journey that will see them turning in their unlikely heroes.

Allies will become enemies and strangers will become friends, as the secrets of a Forerunner installation known as Solipsis are unveiled…

Dramatis Personae[]

Main Characters

  • Exra's Misfits
  • March of Thundering Trail
    • Arkarum
    • Ternerus
    • Kento 'Baruch

Supporting Characters

  • Alessia Vasquez
  • Erica Joshua

Act One: Fates Entwined[]

Chapter I[]

Exile.

That was the price Arkarum had to pay for failing Atriox.

Once, he used to be a member of the Warmaster’s inner circle, having witnessed his rise to power hundreds of cycles ago, when he rebelled against the Covenant at the human colony world of Algolis, after he refused to kneel before his would-be executioner, killing him in front of his packmates instead. Inspired by his act of defiance, Arkarum vowed to fight by his side, and later became one of his most trusted lieutenants. But, following a humiliating defeat at the hands of the enemy, Arkarum was stripped of his rank and sent to conquer the fringe territories of former Covenant space as punishment, sentenced not to return until each and every world in the region had been claimed in the name of the Banished.

Usually, those deemed as incompetents were summarily executed, for their deaths would serve as an example to anyone who dared to fail the Warmaster. But, for the first time in the history of the Banished, Atriox spared Arkarum’s life, giving him the chance to redeem himself from his failures or die trying. Not wanting to fail him again, Arkarum took a host of warriors loyal to him and started his campaign, invading one world after another and forcing their inhabitants to pay tribute to the Banished if they wished to be spared, or crushing them if they resisted.

It was then that the Apparition came.

The entity once known as Cortana, an artificial intelligence of human design, emerged from the deepest corners of the Domain and seized control of the Guardians, powerful Forerunner constructs capable of unleashing untold devastation upon entire planets, and used them to impose her will on the unsuspecting galaxy, encouraging a thousand others like her to flock under the banner of the Created.

Refusing to bow before the Archon and her Created, but still unable to rejoin the main Banished force since his debt was yet to be paid, Arkarum and his forces had no other choice but to keep on the move, resorting to occasional piracy just to survive. Even then, that was not enough, and it was just a matter of time before they ran out of supplies and succumbed either to infighting, starvation, or both, something Arkarum was not going to let happen as long as he drew breath.

A faint orange hue bathed the pseudo-ursine face of the demoted Jiralhanae Chieftain as he stared at the holographic display of his next possible target. It was a habitable planet—or rather, dwarf planet—whose surface was largely covered in massive temperate forests surrounded by small epicontinental oceans. Although he was no Studymaster, he was able to tell that a planetary body of such size should not be capable of sustaining life, as it was too small to possess a magnetic field, and therefore, a breathable atmosphere. Such an anomaly could only be explained through Forerunner intervention, making it a tempting target for a raid, if not for one little obstacle that Arkarum had to deal with before anything else.

“Ternerus,” Arkarum growled. “Get over here!”  

“Yes, Chieftain?” asked a young Jiralhanae wearing the distinctive crimson power armor of the Captain rank.

“Is this the world you told me about?”

“Yes. It is,” he replied. “I shall name it, Oth Solkon.”

“And what makes this planet so special, for us to come out of hiding?”

“If I am not mistaken, this planet actually is the resting place of a Forerunner world engine.”

“A world engine, you did say?” Arkarum was intrigued. While serving in the Covenant military, he heard tales of such artifacts, capable not only of bringing life to worlds where there once was none, but also of destroying them. At the time, he dismissed those tales as nothing but Covenant propaganda, but after the discovery of the Halo Array during the last days of the War of Annihilation, he opened up to the possibility that they did, in fact, exist. If Ternerus was telling the truth—which he probably was, since there was no other way of explaining the planet’s unique properties—, Arkarum had just found out how to pay his debt.

“Yes, Chieftain,” Ternerus replied. “There will not be any resistance to oppose us, other than the expected automated response, of course,” he added, referring to the Sentinel machines that zealously guarded the legacy of their Forerunner creators. It was logical to assume their presence. After all, the world engine was a technological artifact, and, like any other technological artifact of Forerunner design, needed to be protected. But it also was logical to assume the presence of undesirable others, others who Ternerus was not thinking about in the slightest.

“Then, how do you explain this?” Arkarum scrolled his sturdy fingers through the display’s holographic interface, focusing the image on a point of interest that seemed to be a human settlement.

“What in Sonin?” Ternerus gasped in disbelief. “This place was supposed to be uninhabited. That should not be possible!”

“And yet, the humans are here,” Arkarum replied. “Wherever they go, their Created are nearby. If the Apparition found out about our presence in this system, she would send one of her accursed Guardians after us. You could have doomed us all!”

“Chieftain. I—”

“Luckily for you, that is not the case,” he added. “Thanks to the efforts of our communication officers, we learned these humans are not under Created rule. They are on their own, and it seems they would like to keep it that way.”

“Then, the element of surprise is on our side. Right, Chieftain?” Ternerus asked nervously.

“Yes, it is.”

“What is the problem, then? I am failing to see it.”

“The problem is that you have known about this place for quite some time, and only now you chose to tell me. How timely.”

“My apologies, Chieftain. I thought—”

“You did not think, Ternerus!” Arkarum raised his voice as he struck the holotable in anger, shattering the screen beneath the weight of his fist and flickering the image as a consequence. “If you had, you would have told me earlier, and we would already have rejoined our brothers! Right now, we would be helping them with the preparations to invade the Halo ring, but instead, we are here, wasting our time! If you want to kill me, you should do it with your bare hands, not stressing me to death!”

“I… I am sorry,” Ternerus hesitated. “I just wanted to make you proud, Chieftain.”

“Make me proud? If you keep looking for my approval like the hapless cubling you no longer are, you will get nothing from me. That is unless, of course, you learn to mask your scent and stand up for yourself. You understand?”

“Yes, Chieftain. I think I do.”

“Get out of my sight, then!” Arkarum ordered. “I have far more important matters to attend to.”

Ternerus gave no verbal reply, instead, he nodded in compliance and walked up to the war room’s nearest exit, bringing his proverbial tail between his legs. Before he left, he looked back at Arkarum through the corner of his eye, hoping to see a hint of remorse, but instead, he merely returned his attention back to the holotable. It was just as he had said, there were more important matters to attend to.

And he was not amongst them.

“Listen to me, my brothers and sisters!” Arkarum’s holographic bust roared through the speakers of the Ghost of Rothavok, an Irusk Workshop dreadnought that served as his flagship. “As you already know, we have been on the move since the Apparition and her Created took hold of this galaxy. For every passing day, we grow thinner in number as our supplies are depleted. Some of you may think that the end is near, and near it is, but not for us. In a few units, we will approach the orbit of Oth Solkon, a world whose secrets are not only the key to return to the Banished, but to rebuild our beloved Doisac as well. Unfortunately, humanity has claimed this world as one of their own, soiling the ground with their filthy footsteps and polluting the air with their nauseating breaths. We will cleanse this world from their undesirable presence and, when we are done, we will take what is rightfully ours!”

Fists and weapons rose in the air as war chants echoed across the Rothavok’s hallways, falling on the hearing membranes of Exra Kasum, who had heard enough of the Chieftain’s speeches to know where he was going. In her eyes, the Jiralhanae, or at least, those like Arkarum, were nothing but brutish savages who knew no better than to burn and raid everything on their path, supposedly on the name of their so-called “free will”—if their primitive, violent desires could even be considered as such. But, no matter how much Exra came to hate them, sometimes she wondered if they were not so different.

She was working alongside them, after all.

Kasum! Are you busy?” asked Baruch, a Sangheili clad in a golden Ultra-class harness detailed with crimson markings. He was not only Exra’s commanding officer, but also, the closest thing she had to a friend.

“It depends. If you consider not paying attention to Arkarum’s seventh speech in the day, then yes. I am very busy. Why?”

“Because I got a job for you,” Baruch said. “Are you interested?”

“A job? What kind of job are we talking about?”

“Follow me, I shall tell you along the way.”

Exra followed Baruch through the red and silver corridors of the Rothavok to the deployment bay, where dozens of drop-bases laid in wait to be deployed, each one carrying enough materials to build military outposts in order to stage a planetary invasion.

“What in Urs is going on?” she asked. “I have not seen this level of activity in cycles.”

“You would know if you listened to what the Chieftain has to say,” Baruch said in a scolding tone. “We are into something big, Exra. Big enough to settle our debt,” he added, as he raised his fist and clenched it in the air.

“Yes, our debt,” Exra muttered.

“Is there anything you want to say, Exra?”

“What? No, nothing. Why do you ask?”

“I thought I heard you say something under your breath.”

“Oh, that. It is nothing you should worry about,” she shrugged his worries aside. “Can we keep walking, please?”

“As you wish…” Baruch remained suspicious. He knew his protégée well enough to notice when something was bothering her. Sooner or later, he was going to find out, but until then, he was going to keep an eye on her.

The Sangheili pair stopped in front of a pile of stacked supply crates, where a T’vaoan Kig-Yar whose head was adorned by a crest of blue feathers, leaned his back against one of the crates, resting with eyes closed and arms crossed, while his companion, an Unggoy of Kfav breed, carried small crates full of weapons and ammunition on his oversized, chitinous forearms and loaded them into a drop-base.  

“Uh, Baruch.” 

“Quiet, Exra. Let me do the talk,” Baruch knocked his fist against the crate. “Wake up, nishum!”

“What? Who’s this?” asked the startled T’vaoan as he woke up from his short-lived nap. “Who dares to wake me up?”

“Good morning, Bok Rug. Were you resting well?”

Baruch, it is ya! What are you doing around here, old friend?” a nervous chuckle escaped out of Bok Rug’s throat as he awkwardly placed his hand upon Baruch’s breastplate, much to the Sangheili’s annoyance.

“Take your feathered hands off my chest,” he ordered. “Now.”

“Sorry, was just about to do that,” Bok Rug replied, awkwardly, before he turned his head to look at his Unggoy companion. “Badab! I told you to wake me up! What happened?”

“Badab.”

“You little… How dare you? After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you treat me?”

“Badab!”

As the two aliens argued, or rather, hissed and barked at each other, Baruch turned to look at Exra. “These two are Bok Rug and Badab. As you can see, they have a serious problem with authority. It shall be your responsibility, as their Enforcer, to ensure that they carry out Arkarum’s will.”

“Wait, is this the job you were talking about? indignant, Exra asked. “This is a waste of my talents!”

“I knew that was going to be your reaction. But you must understand, if someone wants to climb up the ranks, they have to start from scratch, even if they are the prodigal daughter of a Sangheili noble.”

“You are not going to let me forget about my past, are you?”

“You want me not to remind you of your past, and yet, you wish to be rewarded for it. That is not how things work around here, Kasum.”

“I know how things work around here, Baruch. I knew it even before I boarded this damn ship. But after all the blood I have shed, this is my reward? I am sorry, but I will not take this job. I joined the Banished because I wanted to make a name for myself, not to follow the lead of a disgraced warlord.”

“Careful, Exra. Your words may anger some around here,” Baruch warned her, as a pack of Jiralhanae walked past them, one of them disdainfully growling at Exra as he looked at her.

“As if I cared about that,” Exra replied. “I have fought for so long and gained nothing in return. Arkarum’s mouth has spilled nothing but lies and false promises. I would rather be killed by one of his jir’a’ul than serve him another day.”

Baruch sighed in frustration. Exra was stubborn as a pack colo, and disciplinary punishment was not enough to quell her insolent attitude. If there was anything in the galaxy that could change her mind, it was reverse psychology. “Very well. When Atriox founded the Banished, he decreed anyone who wished to join would do it out of their own will, and no one else’s. If leaving is what your hearts’ desire, so be it.”

“Wait. You are going to let me go? Just like that?”

“Yes. But first, let us make a deal.”

“A deal?”

“Yes, a deal. I will let you go; under the condition you take command of these misfits for me. When you return from your mission, we will discuss the terms of your… retirement. Seems fair?”

“Fair.”

“Good to know,” Baruch said. “I just want you to remember one thing. When I found you on the streets of Kor Delban, you were barely surviving. If you leave, you will have nowhere else to go. Are you willing to take those chances?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Of course you will. You do not make things easy for anyone, not even for yourself,” ‘Baruch sighed. “Stay here, I will come back later. In the meantime, I suggest you introduce yourself to your new unit.”

As ‘Baruch walked away, Exra lo at Bok Rug and Badab, who already had ceased their argument.

“So, Bok Rug. Right?”

“Yeah. What do you want?” as the T’vaoan talked, Exra noticed his accent was rather ‘human’. Since the early days of the War of Annihilation, the Kig-Yar were known for trading and bargaining with humans, sometimes with the blessing of the Prophets as a stratagem to locate their core worlds and invade them, and sometimes behind their backs. Knowing that, it was no surprise that some Kig-Yar subconsciously mimicked the human’s speech patterns, which probably was the case for Bok Rug.

“Tell me about you.”

“Well, where do you want me to start? I am a Jha’kaar. The best around this corner of the galaxy, if you ask me.”

“You? A Jha’kaar?” Exra was skeptical of his claims. The Jha’kaar were a unit of well-trained Kig-Yar marksmen feared by both, human and alien alike, due to their sniping prowess some considered to be preternatural. Bok Rug’s claim of being one not only was dubious, but laughable as well.

“Yeah. Why? You don’t believe me?”

“I would like to see it first.”

“Well, let me tell you something, lady. Your skepticism will be proven wrong. Just wait and see,” Bok Rug replied. “Wait and see.”

“What can you tell me about your Unggoy friend?”

“You mean, Badab?”

“Yes. What can you tell me about him?”

“Well, he spots the bad guys, and I shoot them. He also carries my stuff around. What else can I tell you about him?”

“You could start with the fact that I have not heard him utter any word other than his name.”

“Oh, that. I wish I could tell you,” Bok Rug replied. “He’s been like that since we met, and I don’t know why. Maybe he was born that way, maybe he got hit on the head when he was a tadpole, or maybe he just does it to mock us. Whatever the reason, you’ll get used to it.”

“I see.”

“Yeah,” Bok Rug replied. “So, what can you tell me about you?”

“There is nothing you need to know about me, other than I have been assigned as your Enforcer.”

“Wait. What?”

“Oh, yes. From now and then, you will listen to each and every one of my orders. If you do not comply, I…” Exra hesitated. She was not exactly used to giving orders, so this was a new for her. “I will make you comply.”

“Damn. You really need to step up your game if you want to be our Enforcer. You need to sound a little bit more menacing; you know?”

“Are you questioning my methods, Bok Rug?”

“What? No! I’m just trying to help you.”

“If you do not have any questions, then, I suggest you start to load up those crates, because they are not going to do it by themselves.”

“But that is Badab’s job, not mine.”

“That is an order, Bok Rug!” Exra barked as she brought her right hand close to her hip, where her custom energy blade’s hilt was magnetically attached. “You dare to disobey it?”

“Now, that’s what I was talking about! I almost fell for it. Perhaps, I really fell for it,” Bok Rug gulped. “If you excuse me, I’ll be loading those crates over there.”

As Bok Rug stepped away, Exra turned to look at Badab, who was trembling with fear as he looked at her.

“Badab?”

“You look like you need some rest,” Exra noted. “Go, get some, you earned it.”

“Badab?”

“Yes, it is an order.”

“Badab!”

Suddenly, Exra felt Badab’s huge arms surrounding her waist. She was surprised, not by his rather strong grip, but by the gesture itself. It had been cycles since she felt someone else’s embrace. As the Unggoy raised his head, Exra saw in his black round eyes not only her own reflection, but something else as well.

Gratitude.

Advertisement