Halo: Blood

Halo: Blood is the latest story in the Stelverse. It is set in 2564, set years after the conflicts with the Karidans and the Loyalists, after the quelling of their rebellion. It is set on mainly on Quezon, Reach and on Earth, in Melbourne, Australia. Stel 'Vadam returns as the proganatist, and tracks down a mysterious target that Stel's brother wants...
===Canon Characters===
(in order of appearence)
*Thel 'Vadam
*Rtas 'Vadum
*Unknown Target
===Fanon Characters===
*Stel 'Vadam
*Rola 'Vadam
*Jer 'Xerom
*Ezio 'Vadam
*Ral 'Daman
*Doug-103
*Hayden-D065
*Sam-126
*Donovan-D336
*Tavish DeGroot
*Ashley Firth
==Story==
===Prologue===
It was a warm night on Sangheilos, typical for such a desert-orientated planet. A figure in white and red armor came to a stop on a doorstep, raising his fist to knock on the door gently. A lock was heard, being unlocked for safety. A Sangheili with green-and-blue eyes opened the door, his mandibles forming in a grin. "Ezio, you have come. Please, come in and have a seat." Stel 'Vadam said to his cousin, Ezio 'Vadam. Ezio was a Sangheili ambassador to the humans, and one of the few at that. Ezio had come for a important message for Stel...
"Ezio, welcome. What may I be of server, brother?" Stel warmly welcomed Ezio. Ezio was a hard-beaten veteran of the Schism, with a blind eye in the right. "Ah, Stel, your brother has a top secret assigment for you. One of upmost importance." Ezio explained.
"Ooh. Keep talking, I am interested." Ezio handed down a folder, and whacked it on the table, sending out multiple photos of a single SPARTAN-III. He was in full armor, several of the shots showing him in action, and the final one with him locked up in a cell.
"Hm...a Spartan. What would Thel want me to do?" Stel asked, rather curiously.
"We are sending you to find your old friend, SPARTAN-103. He is currently on Earth, in the country of Australia." Ezio explained.
"What does Doug know about this?" Stel asked puzziliedly.
"He knows where the Spartan is."
===Chapter 1: Blood on Sand===
The Phantom hummed as it flew through the warm Earth night sky. This world had only one moon, but it hung in the sky above ominously to Qur’a’s mind. He enjoyed these moments – the calm before the storm, the moments of quiet before the frantic pace of battle.
The battle he would take part in would not be physical, but diplomatic. But he was prepared for it nevertheless.
The ground beneath flashed past at a rate that even Qur’a couldn’t estimate. Normally, the dropship would cast a shadow beneath itself, especially at such a low altitude. The active gamouflage generator mounted within the craft’s hull added to the ambient noise, and an outside observer would see only the faintest of flickers, if they were looking hard. The dropship was far from silent, but it was invisible to sight and sensors, and that was enough for his aims.
“Excellent,” he said over the dropship's COM. “Put me down four kilometres further to the north. I shall make my way on foot.”
“Yes, noble one,” the pilot replied. “Do you wish for us to stand by?”
“That will not be necessary,” he said. “Return to the ship, and await further orders.”
The Phantom de-cloaked behind a sandback, the lone figure of a Sangheili warrior gently floating from the ship’s belly gravity lift, and shimmered into invisibility again. Qur’a kept his ears pricked, tracking the Phantom’s course until it was out of hearing range, and then set out.
This planet, “Earth”, was truly a marvel. Such lifeforms – forests, jungles, deserts, tundra, so many different varieties, each with their own unique biospheres by no means exclusive. Billions of species. Beasts as majestic as any found among the Covenant’s worlds. It was small wonder that the Forerunners had chosen to leave a Portal here, though why they had chosen the humans as “Reclaimers” still eluded him.
The humans were small, weak, and primitive. Their tenacity impressed Qur’a, and indeed most Sangheili, but they were nothing special – the Covenant had found, offered admittance to, and responded to the rejection of a dozen others. Humanity was far from the first species annihilated by the Covenant. But it was the first to survive – and Qur’a had to wonder just how they had achieved this.
That was not relevant, though. He looked up at the dark night sky, missing the three moons of his birthplace, and the faint glow of the two secondary stars of the triple star system. The feel of dust and sand displaced beneath his boots was familiar, and served only to make him homesick.
He set off at a run.
This part of the planet was a small continent called “Aws-trah-lee-ah”, occupied by the humans for millennia. They still insisted that it was still one of the younger places of their civilisation, for reasons that eluded Qur’a. But he appreciated the beauty of the place – the red desert stretched on as far as the eye could see, broken only by clumps of straggly vegetation and a few “kan-ga-roos”. He reached the top of the sand dune, peering out across the night, unlimbering two pieces of equipment from his combat harness’s belt.
The first was a viewer, which he raised to his eyes. The darkened landscape was lit in an eerie green glow, showing up the outlines of every object, every tree, every animal as it scurried away from the alien creature. He twitched his mandibles into a smile, wishing he could study them better.
The second was his sword.
He touched a part of the handle, and ignited the weapon, superheated plasma rushing to fill the shape of the blade created by a powerful electromagnetic field, giving him further illumination, casting a long and strange flickering shadow along the ground to his left. He shook it, dispelling a small cloud of stray ionised gas, and raised it above himself.
“Show yourself, Demon!” he bellowed.
Cold steel pressed itself against his throat, and the answer came back just as razor-sharp:
“Right here, Heretic.”
===Chapter 2: Blood on the Sand===
Donovan-D336 came rushing out with a combat knife, lunging at Qur'a. The shining razor-edged blade nearly swiped Qur'a over the helmet, scratching it slightly, but no damage done to Qur'a's face. Qur'a held up his own blade, at a combat stance, with Don circling him, holding his knife up aswell.
"What the hell are you doing here anyway, Squidlips?"
Stel looked at Qur'a and Donovan from the bushes, where Don could not see him. His head poked up out of the bushes and tackled Donovan, Energy Sword to the throat. "We are here for an important mission. One that you are not supposed to know about."
"Ohh, and what's this pansy-ass little mission you're yapping on about, fish head?"
There was a long silence.
Stel held his hand out for Don to grab it. Don grabbed it and lifted himself up. "You may be of use. Do you know a Spartan named Doug-103?"
"Doug? I know 'im alright. We'll have to go into the city...which is under attack by those feathered bird things. "
"Feathered? Bird?"
"Oh no."
===Chapter 3: Blood on Glass===
Don slowly walked up the hill and up to a treeside. A giant skyscraper could be seen in the middle of the city.
"Well, 'ere we are, fellas." Stel walked up on the hill. For a moment he could see the skyscraper.
And then he saw half the city burning.