Silenced Screams

Well, here i go. My first actual fanfic. Enjoy.


The warship Sacred Tyrant, a vessel charged with the containment of captured UNFSC troops held orbit of the former human world Harvest. Three months and a year into the bloody war with the humans had yielded hundreds of prisoners for Covenant experimentation and entertainment. And this is were they found themselves if the ship was in system, for every war has it's prisoners, and even the conglomeration of aliens known as the Covenant was apt to this principle. As with any other war the two sides also have some level of sympathy towards the combatants of the other, some of these sympathies came in the form of talk of a peaceful future, a possible respite from labor, or idle chat. Again, the Covenant were no strangers to this idea, but even with these similarities there was an immense hatred for the other. Humans were often seen as little more than roadblocks to cleansed galaxy.

The captain of the prison ship's non-Naval aspects was N'Zro Talthee who found his greatest joys in interacting with the newfound enemies that were the human race. Such tenacity and spirit they held despite imprisonment and torture. Often he would drag a marine from the holding cells to idly talk, other times he would brutally beat the individual for what the humans would call, “Shits and Giggles.” Human terminology never ceased to lose its' interest with N'Zro. Often the captain would return to his personal quarters at the end of a shift, only to find himself thinking of the humans he captured. He had each of the thirty seven surviving humans' faces memorized and their names mostly. The tenacious female sergeant that held the survivors together was Rachel “Razor” Dubins, a fiery woman who had spat at the captain in front of her troops in an act of staunch defiance, was his most prized possession. Often times N'Zro would sit within earshot of the containment cells and listen to her rally the spirits of her comrades. Even those who had been tortured would still summon the strength to respond to her encouragement. She was his main reason for his fixation with humans.

As of now though, the captain found himself looking over a report of ration consumption by his subordinates and prisoners. The humans ate far less than his fellow Sangheili, and just a bit more than the lowly Unggoy or Kig-Yar. The few Lekgolo that N'Zro did command ate rarely but in large quantities, which made it mildly irritating to place ration requests on the Battle Net. N'Zro had tasted human food before, and found it thoroughly displeasing to him. It was either too bland or too flavored. The meal he had tried had been made of a tough meat called “Pork” by the humans. It had been far to salty for his personal taste, but the humans seemed to devour it without hesitation. It became protocol to obtain what human resources could be found without a conquered vessel or installation in order to adequately feed the captured specimens.

“Rezt,” N'Zro called idly to his second in command, a lower ranking Elite who held his commander as a hero in his eyes, “Have you ever sat and talked with any of these.... Humans?” The question was sudden and forced Rezt to think a moment before replying. “I have, but only to tell them that there was food for them. Aside from that, no sir.” N'Zro leaned back in his seat and ran one of his four opposable thumbs along his jaw line. “You should some time, after all, we may as well know our enemy if they fight as valiantly as they do. I've observed them in combat before, and despite being short in stature, and frail, they fight with more heart than any Unggoy, or Kig-Yar that I've met. I've cut them down on several occasions with my own two hands, and even as they die they fight.” Rezt chuckled in his deep voice remembering an instance were the two of them had boarded a disabled human gunship to scavenge. Upon reaching the “Mess Hall” they had been ambushed by a handful of humans. Some in armor, some not, and all armed with the standard primitive firearms. N'Zro had shrugged off their poorly aimed shots and impaled the closest of them upon his Energy Sword while firing a Plasma Pistol into the clustered group. Only two prisoners were taken from the ship, but Rezt would never forget the scene. Blood, agony, perverse joy, and of course the guttural sound of human weapons being discharged had filled the air in that adrenaline filled moment.

Standing from his console Rezt stretched his muscular form before turning to his mentor and superior, “Sir, I think a chat with our guests is a fine idea. Should I take one out of the cells, or just leave them in?” N'Zro looked over his shoulder and laughed whole-heartedly, “Whatever my friend, but have an escort team with you if you decided to take a more... personal approach to your talks. I would hate to lose a prisoner or two over something as simple as an attempted escape.” A nod and a salute completed their brief conversation as Rezt departed for the holding cells. The purple and pinkish hallways of the Sacred Tyrant echoed with his footsteps causing Rezt's heart to pound. Anticipation? Adrenaline? Or maybe fear of not knowing what to expect? To actually talk to the humans had never crossed his mind until now, but even still they were lowly creatures to him. They burdened his career as a rising commander by forcing him off of the front lines. Each footstep brought him closer as his mind began to drift back to the initial days of the war. The holding cells had rapidly filled with the fragile beings, some dying of unchecked wounds, some sentenced to a later death from brutal interrogations, and others later from starvation as the rations supplies at the time could not handle the rapid influx of captured individuals.

The low chime and stirring noise of the opening doors to the containment facility brought Rezt back from his idle thoughts. The sight that greeted him was nothing new. The varying shades of purple and pink that formed the ships structure punctuated by the blue lighting from the control panels and energy shields used to hold the prisoners. A voice chimed in to his right, hushed but unmistakably that of a human male, “Uh oh, one of those ugly sons-of-bitches is back. Looks like its either feeding time or time to get fucked up.” The answer to this comment came from an adjacent cell, “Carl, shut the fuck up you asshole, it's bad enough knowing whats going to happen, the least you could do the for the rest of us is not voice it.” This second voice was a lighter but still definitively male voice. Human phrases still eluded Rezt, as he had not been around the detained individuals long enough. “Fucked up?” His thoughts spilled from his mouth in a barely audible fashion, but apparently this “C'Arl” had heard them as he began to yell. “Thats right tall, dark, and stupid. Fucked up! Messed up! Screwed up! Mangled! Maimed! And beaten by you sick bastards.” Rezt was now fully captivated by the sheer anger that spilled through the inferior man's words. The only thing that came out the towering alien's mouth after that was enough to set off the entire brig, “Maybe if you had fought more valiantly, you wouldn't be here.” A chorus of mingled shouts perforated the air drowning out all chance of reclaiming order until finally, the smug elite casually strolled to the rooms computer terminal and activated an intercom. “This is Rezt to any detainment level personal available, I require an escort for prisoner extraction.” While spoken in his native tongue, the order was also broadcast in the human tongue as well. A perk of having captured a human AI at the beginning of the war was that it provided the Covenant forces a comprehensive human dictionary and translator for personal and general use. The AI in question had been extracted during the first skirmish with a human warship by a sacred task force.

Not a minute had passed before a trio of armored Elites in blue armor entered the room. On each hip was a plasma rifle, and in each hand a three foot long metal pole. A foolhardy human would easily find one of these poles embedded in their skull if they tried an escape. The trio stood before the door at rigid attention as their superior officer approached them with a great deal of arrogance, hushed words where exchanged, and “C'Arl” was extracted from his cell. His writhing form restrained by two of the three elites, while the third monitored the other two occupants of the cell. The whoosh of the doors and the heavy footfalls of the final elite leaving echoed through the now silent corridor that laid in the center of the two rows of cells. Eight holding chambers, with thirty six pairs of eyes trained on the sealed door. Father Elias, a preacher of some archaic religion from earth began to speak in low tones offering Carl's spirit a safe journey.

His prayer would go unanswered.

The hallways of the corridor seemed constricting to Carl as the situation he found himself in became more and more apparent. A passing grunt squeaked out its' surprise as it nearly bumped into the small group while rounded a corner. On the battlefield the five foot tall being would have turned tail and run to the nearest CO, but within the confines of a friendly ship, well, the little brat was pretty ballsy. Carl could hear its chanted words even several corridors down, and even a few of the ape-like being's friends seemed to join in the jeering, for soon it was a roar of the high pitched voices. “POUNDED TO THE GROUND! FLATENED ALL AROUND! HUMANS, HUMANS KICK THEM WHILE THEY'RE DOWN!” The chant died as a set of reinforced doors slid shut behind Carl and his captors. This was the interrogation room from hell. Blood spattered the walls, and floor liberally. Everything from executions to dissections of humans had happened here, and now Carl would experience his own brand of hell.

Suspended by binding affixed in midair, Carl stood with a proud face before the quartet of burly elites. Not a word was exchanged in the small room until Rezt waved his escorted away, the implied command being for them to wait outside the room. As they left, Rezt liberated a rod form one of his assistants before returning to his position before the grizzled man who had so openly mocked him. “Human,” His words cold and concise, “You have a large mouth for such a tiny head.”

“Bite me you slimy piece of shi...” The word wasn't fully out of Carl's mouth before Rezt had seized him by the jaw. Each of the two thumbs on his free hand now digging into the man's cheeks as the will to speak suddenly left him. Rezt laughed long and loud as he released the mans jaw and tore the remnants of Carl's shirt off. A number of yellow bruises adorned the man's chest and stomach from previous encounters with the crew of the Sacred Tyrant. Again Rezt spoke, “I will enjoy this very much human, and I hope you will suffer just as thoroughly.” With that the rod swung sideways into the shorter man's ribs with terrifying speed. The crack was audible for a moment before the high pitched yowl filled the room. This single yowl was renewed as the rod came back at a downward angle into the knee of the opposite leg. Another crack would have been heard as the man's kneecap shattered, had the scream from the fractured rib not continued as long as it had.

Twisting to one side, the marine sobbed openly now as he favored his functioning leg to remain upright. A sadistic laugh from the broad shouldered alien accompanied a third devastating blow. The other knee did not shatter, this time it splintered. A direct strike to the front of the man's kneecap caused it to buckle backward with another sickening crunch. The man whimpered, a silent expulsion of noise that escaped his dry throat was all he could muster. Shock had set in and he was barely able to register the full extent of his injuries, but still the torment continued. A rain of heavy punches peppered Carl's face and ribs as the elite dropped the pole in favor of the more “personal” treatment. Blood flowed freely from the man's mouth as his jaw hung limply at an irregular angle, broken and only held on by hope and skin. Having reached his limit, the man slumped forward against his restraints. Tears flowing from his eyes as the Elite picked up his weapon of torment and swung it against the restrained victim with renewed vigor. The blow homed in on Carl's arm, the impact so great that the bone not only shattered, but the skin tore and his arm came free, liberated just above the elbow from the constraining bond. What was left of the lower half of the arm oozed dark red, blood from where it used to belong to him.

Nothing. Nothing at all escaped his lips anymore. What seemed like an eternity of torture had taken under two minutes to achieve. No longer was he a man, he was just a breathing corpse waiting to be disposed of. The waiting period was distant though. The elite, now panting heavily released him from his remaining bond and let him sag to the floor, legs both splayed at odd angles as ragged gasps escaped the doomed man. Rezt sat down next to him. Most likely high on adrenaline, the covenant officer who had taken the liberty of “interrogating” this human found himself in a very amiable mood. “I can recall my early childhood. Raised on Sangheilios, the home world of my people I dreamed of exploring the universe and discovering it's vast secrets. I can safely say that I am fulfilling my dream, and even now see you as a fellow explorer of the many mysteries that dwell in the void, but beyond that....” The monologue meant nothing to the shuddering marine beside him, and glancing over Rezt noticed the deaf audience beside him. He quickly decided that he needed to capture his attention before continuing. Un-holstering his energy rifle, a standard issue to all officers, he pointed the personal firearm at the helpless being beside him. No change from the man, he was still shuddering and even began groaning again. Insolence that would not be tolerated.

The whine of the weapon releasing a single lethally charged round into the man was met by a most distasteful sound. His leg engulfed by super heated plasma, the man howled long and low. His skin charred and mangled by the unfathomable heat of the round. He jerked and floundered a bit at the pain coursed through him, this time without fail. Enjoying this reaction, Rezt found himself drawn to repeat the action. Another round squeezed off into the man, his undamaged arm suddenly scorched by the crackling energy. His howl grew in pitch which elicited a similar scream from the elite, a mocking howl that attempted but failed to match the timbre of the suffering life-form before him.

Now Rezt had lost himself in the moment. Cackling with joy he began to fire round after round into the extremities of the dying man until all movement and noise finally ceased. The bulbous blue firearm in his hand finally chirped at him to let him know of the emptied battery, the heat radiating off of the weapon subsided slowly as the smell of scorched skin permeated the room. Ozone, charred meat, sweat, and blood. Odors that mixed easily and stuck in the long, narrow nostrils of his rough form. Standing slowly and whipping his bloodied knuckles on the shirt of his victim of late, Rezt confidently left the confining room to find his three accompanying associates in a rather somber mood. The business of killing was always a matter to be taken seriously, not matter how entertaining the victims proved themselves.

Cleanup crew was quick to arrive, and he could hear their startled remarks as he made his way back to his commander. His interest in humans was minuscule compared that of his mentor, but would keep his sentiments private for the meantime. His head swimming with glee at his acts, Rezt passed through the automated doors to rejoin his superior officer. “N'Zro, remember how we had thirty seven prisoners?” “Had?” “Thirty Six.” The brief exchange was sufficient enough for N'Zro as he failed to even divert his eyes from the screen of flowing data before him. A mild sigh escaped his throat as he spoke, more to himself than to Rezt, “Maybe they'll actually be willing to talk today.” He failed to notice the slight cringe that dominated Rezt for a brief moment, but not the stammer in his next words, “Sir, I uh, think you had better wait on that one...” N'Zro spun in his seat and stood in one fluid motion. The think muscles of his lower legs tensed to spring upon the imbecilic warrior before him, “What do you mean, WAIT?” N'Zro was losing patience now. He accepted the foolish actions of his inferior, but to know that it would affect his ability to rationally speak to his “guests” as he often referred to them as.

Rezt edged away. The intensity of his commanders voice, combined with the level of authority the honored warrior before him held, and the sudden change in emotion frightened Rezt. With a single sentence he could be locked up alongside the beings he hated and forced to eat their garbage, or worse he would be tossed to the Jackals. They would never hesitate to take an offered slave as highly prized as an Elite, but that would be where his honor would end. Holding his hands before him as if offering N'Zro a gift, Rezt backed away another step as he spoke, “I merely mean, sir, that the humans greeted me in a vulgar and aggressive manner and that they would do the same to you.” Seemingly satisfied with the response N'Zro stretched to his full hight, an impressive eight foot seven, before brushing aside the still tense Rezt. Fear. All Rezt felt at the moment of his commanders passing was pure and unadulterated fear that he would be set upon and maimed. Humans were small and easy to combat, and even in the academy the other soldiers were simple enough to deal with, but a war hardened and potentially unstable CO?

A Grunt approached N'Zro as he exited his quarters and fell in step beside the far taller being. The stubby limbed creature held an almost reverent silence while waiting for nothing in particular to occur. Few of the Unggoy saw heir Sangheili brethren as more than just leaders, so the act was a bit unnerving for N'Zro. His tension faded when the wheezing noise of the methane pack upon its back almost entirely disappeared, yet a knot formed in his stomach as the door moved before him to reveal the holding cells. His “guests” immediately turned to face the intrusion into what they had once joking referred to as, “Their Club.” No hostile voices met the captain as he entered, and to his surprise no idle conversation permeated from the cells either. His words broke the silence as he stood surrounded by his charges, “Well humans,” he looked amongst his charges for a moment, “it appears C'Arl is no longer with us.” Father Elias began whispering furiously to a small and worn book as N'Zro paused for a moment, “My.... subordinate took it into his own hands. No execution was sanctioned by me. That said, I do not promise anything for any of you aside from your alloted meals and the occasional talks with me or another curious individual. So, Sergeant, if you would not mind; not that you really have a choice, I would like you to come with me.” His weapon un-holstered and a set of magnetic shackles in his hands, N'Zro dropped the energy field containing “Razor”. His weapon trained upon her chest, he tossed her the restraints and nodded lightly.

A thought crossed the commanders head as his prized captive affixed the bonds to her wrists, the mess hall was far to public for their discussions to continue unabated. The grunts always seemed to cluster and the Jackals could be heard in their huddled groups discussing what she might fetch on a slave market. What Elites that did pass by would snarl and curse her. His room would be far more fitting for their chat this time.

The sergeant looked up at the elegant yet powerful being beside her with a puzzled look when they did not follow the normal path to the mess hall. Perhaps her time was up, or maybe she was to be interrogated by a higher ranking officer. Her heart raced in her chest as adrenaline began to seep into her veins, escape or combat, her only two potential options. Both severely limited down to the very fact that the ship itself was an unknown to her. The rough shove she received into the new room startled her for a moment before she began to grasp the idea of this retreat from her cell. A computer terminal occupied an entire wall to her right, before her was a rack for weapons and armor as well as casual clothing. The later consisting of anything from a two piece jumpsuit to a dark tinted robe with a religious presence about it. Continuing her surveillance of the room she noticed that to her left there was no obstruction upon the wall, but rather what appeared to be a bed built into the floor. The human idea of elevated sleeping arrangements apparently had not been reflected in the Covenant.

Another rough shove sent Rachel stumbling into the wall before sinking onto the relatively soft material of the bed. A single strap from her tank top slid down her shoulder as she helplessly looked up at her tormentor with a spark of fear ebbing over the fading adrenaline. This spark failed to leave as the much larger creature moved from its' looming position over to the console along the opposite wall. Moments of near silent motion were broken by the alien speaking to an animated figure of a Grunt. The bulbous head bobbed and disappeared as the exchange was completed. “Well human, today will be a bit different for us both.” The dangling strap tugged at his attention momentarily before he managed to center himself, “I brought you to my personal quarters as I feel that the “mess area”, as you consistently call our dinning hall that, is far too crowded for us to have a true talk. The Hierarchy gave us no choice in the matter to eliminate your kind. This conflicts with my personal belief though, as I think that any enemy as tenacious as you humans are ought to be accepted into the Covenant. Your kind fight valiantly even despite being inferior in numbers, and technology. That is why you are here. For me to study at my own leisure with the intent of being able to “understand” your kind. I have no such intention of revealing this to the greater ones though.”

Rachel sat in stunned silence with her while body craned forward. The neck of her shirt hung loose enough from her that for a brief moment N'Zro could see a good portion of her fit body. His thoughts scandalized by some deeper ideal N'Zro could do nothing but turn away from the sight. It wasn't disgust, no, this was far more intimate and pulling to be that. Curiosity? He hadn't been with a member of the opposite gender in some time, and his personal tour of duty was still in its' early stages, so to see a vulnerable female before him was somewhat unnerving. She was alien after all though and was far inferior to a true woman of his race.

“I don't give a fuck why you brought me here, or why you assholes attacked.” She had shaken her head and sat upright in defiant position before saying this. “You lot of slimy freaks stomped into our lives and kicked us out. Fuck. You.”

Placing food orders was a start to a bad day, losing a prisoner made it worse, have a stupid subordinate pushed the limits of his patience, but now N'Zro snapped. Lunging forward with a powerful hand he caught the smaller woman by the throat and forced her aloft. Had it not been for artificial gravity she may have bounced off the ceiling with spine shattering force. Pulling her close to him with a form hold upon her fragile neck N'Zro spoke through the sangheili equivalent of clenched teeth, “One more word from you human. One, and I may lose myself in pummeling you.” She spat.

Sgt. Dubins saw the hand before it struck her, the blow was strong enough to cause the world to spin and nothing she could have done would have prevented it fully. She felt her limbs fails as her mind became static filled. She willed herself to kick her assailant, but to no avail as a ringing developed in her ears. The taste of blood seeped across her tongue, maybe she bit her cheek upon being hit. Immobilized thoroughly, Rachel was at the mercy of her brutal host.

Still unsatisfied with the momentary bit of malice N'Zro had shown the unruly human, he paused for a moment, still clutching his unconscious adversary before tossing her back upon his bedding. Musing over his next act he eyed the stunned human with what would have been a raised eye brow. An idea formed, full of sadistic greed, one that would have sickened many of his Sangheili brothers to a great degree, and one that would allow him some disturbed bragging rights.

In full view of the stunned human N'Zro shed the light garb he wore outside of combat, a mesh of bluish gray clothe that was skin tight but immensely flexible. She groaned as she lay limply before him, such a pitiful response to the horror she would soon witness. Stooping down beside the incapacitated human, the determined elite began to inspect the rough garb she wore for any immediate methods of a removal. A zipper and button held her bottoms, and the shirt was draped over her much like his shoulder plating for his armor. Deciding that the shirt could easily be neglected in its' removal, N'zo decided instead to roll the fabric over itself. The interest of viewing an alien body without any coverings was violently interrupted for him as another layer of cloth was revealed beneath her top.

Silently cursing the annoyance, he grabbed the cloth with both hands on the middle, and pulled outward. The effect was a satisfying tearing noise as the seams of the under worn cloth gave way violently. The sight that awarded the captain was nothing short of surprising. He had noticed the oddly formed nature of the human female chest, but had never seen the source of the deformed profile. Before him sat two fleshy swells with a small orb-shaped discoloration in a roughly centered position, and within his brain he felt an odd compulsion. Reaching for the mounds N'Zro held his breath to see what would happen. His first contact with them was sudden and his boldness lost way for a moment. Pulling back his had, N'Zro watched as her chest rose and fell with each breath before reaching again. The tip of his finger making contact with the discolored back of pink skin. Nothing happened save that a central point upon the discoloration began to swell ever so slightly. Shifting his finger slightly he brushed against it lightly. A whimper emitted from his victim suddenly that both put him on his guard, but also spurred him forward further. Taking one of the globes in his palm, the curious elite squeezed lightly only to feel a similar urge when another whimper emitted from her throat. Taking bolder steps, N'Zro rolled the stirring female onto her back while undoing the affixing aspects to her lower garment. Upon believing himself to be completed in this task, the empowered elite swept the clothing away, only once again to find his discovery tainted by yet more coverings. This time a thin and softer garment covered her nether regions. Sudden realization struck N'Zro as if a Ghost ground attack vehicle had smashed into him at top speeds. These garments were functional in nature, and that function was to cover “sensitive areas” of the human anatomy. Pondering this brief bit of insight N'Zro curiously pulled this new covering down with the outer layer, both hanging just above the ankles now.

She snapped bolt upright in a sudden fit. Mind and body reunified wholly again, the Sergeant decided that action was necessary as the circumstances of what was happening became far to real for her liking. As she sat upright she met an object that she never did find out the nature of. In reality it was a actually the top of N'Zro's skull. Both heads met with a resounding thud that dropped the once conscious woman into a state of definite unconsciousness. Reeling from the blow for a moment, N'Zro was fully prepared to strike the insolent girl, but upon finding her once again incapacitated decided to continue his “exploration” unabated. His fore-thumb brushed the skin that had been concealed by the unruly cloth as a sense of something primal and consuming coursed suddenly threw him. A pool of warmth formed in his lower regions as he gazed upon the helpless form of the individual he admired as a sentient being, but hated as a contemptible individual. As with a reptilian, elites stored their reproductive organs within until necessary, and something within the captain deemed it necessary. Springing forth as another wave of what had now been determined to be pent up lust, the captain felt a sick satisfaction suddenly. The prospect of physical relief during a tour of duty, as well as a chance to demoralize an enemy seemed far too appealing for his body to not desire some form of action. Gripping the elongated member and shuffling himself into a suitable position to enter his victim, N'Zro could not help but feel a moment of guilt for the act which he was about to preform. This notion was soon driven from his mind as his brushed against her soft flesh, the sensation causing a deep exhalation to occur as a small wave of pleasure coursed through his body. His hand began to idly move on its' own as he began to lose himself in the moment. Many months had it been since he had been with a female of his species, and none aboard the ship desired to mate with him as his interest in humans was not readily shared.

Pressing against the entrance yet again N'Zro shivered with pleasure before wedging himself in. The tapered point of his member aided in allowing an object as thick as his own to enter an individual of such a physically inferior race. Pressing onward he could not help but lose himself tot he soon violent motions that were driven by instinct. Moisture began to build within her as her body responded autonomously to his forceful intrusion. She lay limply there while he enjoyed the experience entirely with the only thing coming close in terms of enjoyment due to the physical acts preformed, was the knowledge that when she awoke, no matter what shape she was in, it would break her spiritually. She would become a husk of her former self. Maybe he would drag her away for repeat performances if they would be as enjoyable as this. Minutes of exquisite pleasure later N'Zro began to breath rapidly as release neared. His mind and motions becoming erratic, he lost control of his body and began to spill his essence in violent and warm bursts. He pumped several within her before jerking back suddenly and letting a thick translucent teal liquid jet across her bare skin. Sitting back with his now fading reminder of his acts, N'Zro began to think clearly again. The mess he spilled upon and inside of her would be proof enough of his cruelty, but should another learn of this he would surely be tried by the Hierarchs and slain for heresy.


Chap 2 out soon, bye.