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The Soldiers of Angelon: The Lady of Shadows
Posted By: Jinkaiden-XI<Nolimits4csk@aol.com>
Date: 23 February 2004, 1:19 AM


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      There is one mind, above all, that knows the clear future. In times of darkness she is most powerful, and in times of light she is hidden away. Her ancestry lies with the demons; in fact she is among former demon royalty.
      As the demon monarchs passed on only she remained; the daughter of the King. Demonic brilliance flows through her veins like her own blood.
      Simply by looking at her you would not be able to comprehend demon royalty – her eyes are a whispering and frozen white, her hair dark and yet radiant. She is fairly short; no taller than a Covenant grunt. Her ears are fairly pointed and still she appears remarkably human. Her face is never pale and her small frame never weak.
      She is the Lady of Shadows – a name given to her by her Father the Great during an ancient war in which he commanded the demon army. She is over three centuries old, but appearance is that of an average teenage girl.
      For nearly two hundred years she has waited for the arrival of the Spartan (she knew two centuries before it was possible that genetically enhanced soldiers would soon lead human armies into battle) and is finally ready for that day. She waits at Angelon, protected in a palace claimed by the demons. In Angelon's darkest hours she has become much stronger, and her meeting with the Spartan will prove this newly found strength.
      The Spartan is not yet awake. For most of his life there was a power within him he could not find. But now his task is greater than ever before and he must awaken soon to defeat his greatest threat.




      "Chief, I'm picking up a communication signal."
      John replies, "Yes, intercept it quickly, would you?"
      A flickering panel of light appears in the center of the room. There is the image of a woman in a royal blue uniform, her hair tired back behind her long and pointed ears. Ceremonial battle markings are painted across her face. "I am Commander Yunakira of the Angelonian Imperial Flagship Yo-Angelion. State your reasons for being present."
      Cortana whispers, "You better think of something quick, Chief."
      But before John can respond, the Commander gazes coldly at him. She studies his form for a moment, examining his stature. Suddenly her eyes open wide as she whispers, "Spartan."
      In one fluid motion she spins, urgency carved into her face. "Quick, fire all weapons."
      The Yo-Angelion begins to glow, as do several other ships floating nearby. These are smaller Angelion-class vessels, all part of the Angelonian Imperial Fleet. They too begin to glow as their shields power up.
      John can see the light from a distance now, its radiance brilliant and flawless. Before he can utter a word, the ships fire as one continuous weapon. Enormous beams of blue energy begin to tear apart nearby transports.
      John sees this as a game; a game for the control of the Heart. "Very well," he mutters, "let the game begin."
      And so they do begin. The closest human transports begin to charge up their own shields as the Angelonian cruisers prepare for a second assault. "Fire weapons," the Spartan orders. His own ship, the Admiral Flagship Yuneyamara fires its own magnificent weapons as the others prepare for an attack.
      Great amounts of ammunition are spent in this one massive assault, an assault that in failing to prevail would likely end the game for John. Large cannons on either side of the vessel blast away into the distant oblivion as torpedoes select targets. Boom! Boom! Boom! The sound of immense explosions can be heard.
      Commander Yunakira seems unfazed by the attack. Her own ship never even rumbles under the intense assault. Her expression is impassive. John's heart sinks.
      "Your pitiful human weapons are useless, Spartan. The victory will be mine."




      A great many warriors have been slain on these sacred lands before. Beneath the enormous tree that stands above the plain there are several swords leaning against the trunk. Thick vines have clasped around the blades, never to let them be freed. These blades were those of powerful Angelonians who had been wounded in battle. They, after defeating the enemy, sat peacefully beneath the gracious tree until their final hour dawned.
      Swords continue to clash between Covenant and Angelon soldiers. Many are exhausted and battle worn, but still they fight, for defeat is a concept they do not understand.
      For countless eons the Angelonians have fought under the toughest of conditions, under the greatest of strains. More often than not they succeeded in attaining victory, but at unsurpassed cost.
      Their training is a hundred times more rigorous than that of any human military facility – to say that we humans have it rough would be a joke to them.
      Their battle rages on, and it continues into the night with no clear winner. Reinforcements arrive by the thousands overnight, and the next day their will be much more bloodshed than ever before.
      One Angelonian soldier rests quietly. He gazes, half awake, at the stars, and considers his luck. His score was mighty today – sixty-seven kills in the first charge. He had suffered a small cut in the abdomen, but would fight the following day regardless.
      Of all things he desired there was nothing he wanted more than peace; an end to this war that no living creature should have to endure. The demons were a noble race, to say the least, but while they fought the Covenant off they too desired access to the Heart. And soon the humans would arrive – now they were a power to be considered. With the arrival of three great races the weakened Angelonian armies would have great difficulty in protecting their lands.
      It was not a matter of life or death, it was a question of posterity. Should the Angelonians lose this war, their children would have no future. The mightiest army of warriors ever assembled would be nothing and the Heart will have fallen to either the demons or the Covenant or the humans.
      Actually, there had been rumors going around the officer's supper table about the humans' arrival. Apparently a massive human fleet was on its way, and the legendary Spartan would be the one to lead his men into gallant battle against the Covenant and demons. The Spartan himself was believed to have no interest in taking control of the Heart, but would enter such a place if necessary. Generals spoke of alliances with the humans as well.
      The warmth of the campfire was fading. The stars became more visible now as night grew heavy and smoke from the fire began to dissipate with the flames. A few more logs would take care of that.
      In the distance there was a stir of movement. At the General's tent there were several officers upon battle vehicles as well as long lines of soldiers. These were Angelonian reinforcements, prepared to take the battle from the Covenant at all costs.
      The soldier closed his eyes, the fire beside him now ablaze. His eyes slowly shut, and sleep hit him almost instantly.




      After exchanging shots with the Angelonian Imperial Fleet for nearly an hour, John decides he would need a new approach. In each of the remaining transports there are a small army of roughly seven thousand men. There are, by rough assumption, close to seventy transports still in action. That means John has nearly half a million soldiers at his expense.
      He decides an infantry assault would insure a victory. There were only a small number of ships – approximately twenty or so from this distance – in the Imperial Fleet. He orders the charge of his ships into the closely grouped lines of the Angelons. From there his men will storm each and every last warship until there remains nothing.
      One by one, the human transports leap forward into either their finest hour or ultimate defeat.




      In the carefully guarded demon palace on Angelon, The Lady of Shadows sits quietly. Her eyes are closed and her mind is elsewhere. She is in a deep meditation, only semi-conscious at the moment.
      Absentmindedly she searches for the Spartan, but for the time being she has found nothing. Patiently she waits.
      The Lady awakens. From her neck she removes a thin silver chain with a glowing key attached to it. The key is fairly long – almost six inches in length – and is radiating a soothing color of blue.
      This key was given to her by the Lord of the demons, who has been called out to the distant battlefields countless miles away from the demon palace. A servant approaches her throne. After bowing he inquires, "My Lady, shall we begin our attempt to enter the Heart at this point?"
      The Lady's voice is soft as she replies without looking up, "No. In order to enter we must have all three keys. In order to obtain these treasures we must defeat the Angelons and the Covenant Wonder. Then we will have all three keys and will be able to enter the Heart."
      "And what of the humans, my Lady?"
      The Lady of Shadow looks up. "We shall think nothing of them at this point. They are not currently our ally and unless the Angelons form alliances with their armies the Spartan and his men are to be left alone."
      "Yes, my Lady. Understood."
      "We know where the Heart is," the Lady continues as she stares at her key, "but without the power of all three keys the gates will not open. As soon as we have them we can attain our finest dreams. All questions will be answered soon."
      The servant nods and turns away. He is just out of earshot when the Lady mutters quietly, "But I wonder...how soon will it be?"





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