Here's part four, should be a bit better than the last part, which I was a little disappointed with; I may rewrite it. Enjoy.
Part Four - Into Custody
Pain. Intolerable, inescapable pain was all Sorran Mahaf'ee felt, as he lay in the darkness. Was he dead? No, he can't have been. It looked nothing like the Great Journey. A dark void, devoid of light and sound, only his muddled thoughts present.
Panic gripped him: what if there was no Great Journey? What if the Prophet's had lied? Was he doomed to spend all of eternity drifting in the darkness, with heavy footfall echoing around him?
Wait; footfall? Yes, the unmistakable sound of feet meeting ground was distinguishable. Perhaps he wasn't dead after all!
His suspicions were furthered as he heard voices, tiny and distant. At first, it was like a whisper, drone like. The voices grew louder though, and Sorran realised with dread that they weren't Sangheili, nor belonging to any other species of the Covenant. They were human!
Sorran wished he could see, perhaps if he could, then he wouldn't be so afraid. But he couldn't, his eyes were shut tight. Or, he suddenly thought with horror, maybe he was blind! He put those dreadful thoughts out of his mind for the time being, and concentrated on the two voices.
"I don't think there are any survivors sir." The first said, deep and echoing, as if the human was wearing a helmet.
"Well if you find one son, don't kill it. We don't have much Intel on what the Covenant are doing on Eridanus II, so if we can capture one of the higher ranking soldiers, then we can interrogate it." The other, older sounding voice spoke.
"Roger that." The first voice replied.
Sorran tried to stay still, realising that these humans were looking for survivors, in other words, him.
Slowly, Sorran's vision restored, to his relief. He could see directly in front of him now, and nearly jumped up there and then in disgust.
A mutilated Sangheili was before him; right before him, the dead warrior's ripped open, bloody chest mere centimetres from Sorran's face.
Instinctively, Sorran shifted a fraction away from the body. A mistake, as he felt a new rush of pain as he did so, through his leg. It must have been broken. Sorran couldn't help it, he yowled in agony, and sensed the two humans turn their heads towards him, even though they were behind him.
"I guess it's your lucky day sir, here's one of their so called Elite Warriors, alive and kicking." The first human said, and Sorran felt a figure come up behind him.
Sorran braced his arm, and prepared to punch the human behind him. Humans were laughably weak, and Sorran knew that even in his decrepit, weakened state, he could probably knock it out, and perhaps level the weapon it likely held at the other human before it could react.
Gritting his jaw, Sorran ignored the pain and spun around, his fist an iron club. He felt his ragged flesh smash into the human's chestplate with a ping, but it didn't have the desired effect. The human merely laughed. It didn't even fall to the ground. Impossible. More curious than afraid, Sorran lifted his head so he could actually see the human he just tried to take out, and shirked away in fear.
Looking down at him, emotionless, was a mirrored, golden visor. Sorran knew that behind that mask burned the very fires of hell.
"D-d-d-demon!" Sorran shrieked, and attempted to rise off the floor. He managed to do so, yet before he could take a single step his legs gave out underneath him, and his face smashed into the rock below, cutting his face; displaying that his shields were damaged. The Demon bent down, and scooped up Sorran like he weighed nothing.
"Yeah, you'd better be afraid." The Demon threatened, driving an armoured fist into Sorran's gut. Sorran cried out, and coughed up blood. He felt himself being slung over the Demon's shoulder, and didn't resist. There was no way he could fight something like that. Even Hunters were afraid of the Demons.
"No trouble zero-seven-eight?" The second human asked, and Sorran looked at him. This one wasn't a Demon, but seemed to be in command.
"It tried to *** me with it's sting Lieutenant, but I've got it under control. I'd knock it out, but we don't want to run the risk of brain damage. Should we get back to the Pelican sir?" The Demon asked, and the Lieutenant nodded.
"Lead on zero-seven-eight, out work here is done."
Sorran's head was swimming, and he was only vaguely aware of what was happening. He felt himself being lead out of the outpost, and the next thing he knew, he was being slung into the back of one of the humans air transports. Sorran coughed, and looked up. There were other humans in the transport, and they seemed to be afraid of Sorran. They looked at each other nervously.
The Demon got on board, and slung Sorran into a seat. He felt his head smash against the metal interior of the 'Pelican', and his hand came away from the back of his head warm and sticky with purple blood.
"You try anything, and I will break you like a twig." The Demon said, tying Sorran's hands together, as well as his legs. It was a crude material, the humans hadn't even worked out how to use energy as a means to bind someone. Still, the rough rope did the job, and Sorran couldn't move in his pitiful state. All he could do was cower in fear.
What were these humans going to do to him? His thoughts were drowned out as the human transport lifted off the ground, and it sailed off into the distance. Sorran thought about trying to jump out, the hatch was open, and he could probably survive the fall. But there was the Demon to think about, it would either grab him or shoot him before he could reach the ground. Sorran sighed, and wished he was still in his Library, back before all of this mess had begun.
Far below in the outpost, Zharn Refun'ee disengaged his active camouflage, and watched the humans leave with Sorran. At least he'd managed to slip a tracker onto the drop ship before it had left. He hadn't dared to do more, the Demon was more than a match for him.
Kicking the ground in frustration, Zharn once again activated his camouflage, and set off in pursuit of the glowing beacon on his display.
He would rescue his warrior, no matter the danger.
"This one has forgotten whether it's heatsink is over capacity. It wonders whether the criminal scum considers itself fortunate" ~ Blasto, the only Hanar Spectre.