Of Guns and Gore

Heavy is the head who wears the crown

"They're through." The Slayer grunted, grabbing a Skirmisher by its scrawny leg and throwing its screeching form into the Sangheili Major who was heading the small group. He turned to take his own leave, but he didnt make it more than five steps before his whole world turned upside down. What was once forward motion had become a futile attempt to scale the slanted hill that had become the hangers floor. Accompanying his new sense of disorientation was an unimaginably intense light and heat, and the screaming of the ships hull as it was torn asunder by the plasma beam.

The beam had impaled the stationary ship, causing a great, but not fatal, wound to its hull. The power surged and momentarily cut out, leaving anyone aboard in total darkness. The Truth and Reconciliation pitched in agony, before the power returned and the stabilizers slowly steadied the ship, keeping it from cascading down towards the cliffs below.

The Slayer had been at the epicenter of the super-weapon, being exposed to enough energy to have literally vaporized just about anything else. He was not anything else however, but that didnt mean he was necessarily okay. The sudden transition from running to falling had him fighting his greatest foe yet, gravity. Slamming into an inactive wraith, he tumbled towards what had once been the outer wall of the bay. He hit the shielding hard, landing on his stomach. Rolling over onto his back, he was greeted by the bulk of the wraith he had bounced off sliding down to meet him once again. Quickly rolling out of the way, the Covenant tank slammed into the shield next to him with considerable force.

It was then that the Slayer felt the wall slowly rising back to its original position, becoming more upright every second.

"S-yer are you -ere?" His comms crackled with a very distorted version of D.O.T.'s voice. Being his only ticket out of here, he was glad to hear her voice. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a series of explosions that brought it to his attention, that he had just begun falling.

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Impossible! A roar echoed throughout those who had been called to oversee Siszes latest operation. The collective pride of every ranking Sangheili in the room took a direct blow as their unwillingness to believe their Shipmasters stories blew up in their faces.

Sisze could not say he was shocked that the beam had not eradicated the Spartan, he actually felt a slight pang of relief if anything, but he had a reputation to save and he quickly took back control of the room.

"There is not the time for surprise, have the bombers move in and take out the stabilizers and the engines. If firepower will not pierce its carapace we shall crush it under the weight of an entire cruiser.

Sisze made sure to speak in the most commanding tone he could summon, hiding any trace of emotion behind his glassy eyes. The fear and uncertainty that had been brewing was quickly quashed, as those under him sought comfort in the certainty of his voice and orders. A few traces of doubt remained painted upon a few of the higher ranking Sangheili, but none spoke their feelings aloud.

"Once the Cruiser has fallen I want search parties to scour the wreckage. I will not accept anything less than the body of the Demon itself, even if it's in pieces. Am I understood?" The words felt out of place in his mouth, as if he was speaking someone else's words. They were the words of a greater leader, one who valued his position of power more than anything else. Sisze was not that man.

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The sensation of falling was one of the few times the Slayer ever felt vulnerable inside his impregnable armor. It wasnt the height, or the fact he had been hit with every kind of debris imaginable on the way down, but it was the fact that no amount of strength or brains could help him. With the shields having cut out, he had tumbled from the ship entirely, the ground rushing to meet him.