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  • Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 33 available!) ~ 29th July
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 33 available!) ~ 29th July


Posted by: AssaultCommand
Also, although this is off-topic, please at least attempt to finish this story when you're finished with True Sangheili.


Maybe. We'll see what my morale regarding fan fiction is like once this in finished.

Next chapter shouldn't be too far off, I'll try get it finished tonight. Thanks for all your support, everyone.

  • 08.10.2011 11:40 AM PDT

"We live in a special time; the only time where we can observationally verify that we live in a very special time" - Lawrence Krauss.

I was a finalist :P


Posted by: Wolverfrog

Posted by: AssaultCommand
Also, although this is off-topic, please at least attempt to finish this story when you're finished with True Sangheili.


Maybe. We'll see what my morale regarding fan fiction is like once this in finished.

Next chapter shouldn't be too far off, I'll try get it finished tonight. Thanks for all your support, everyone.

Do not thanks us. You are the one we need to thank my friend

  • 08.11.2011 2:22 AM PDT

Nice job on the story, but aren't you going to update it on Fanfiction.net?

  • 08.11.2011 2:03 PM PDT


Posted by: ZeonCobra
Nice job on the story, but aren't you going to update it on Fanfiction.net?


I will when book two is finished. I'll certainly have my work cut out, there's a lot of update.

Sorry that this next chapter it taking a while to write; rest assured I am writing it; I was considering releasing it as it was but decided it wasn't apt to end the chapter there and so have extended it. It's the longest chapter to date (I seem to be saying that with every chapter recently) and it's still got a little bit to go before completion; there are a lot of big moments in it.

Thanks for your patience.

[Edited on 08.12.2011 4:19 PM PDT]

  • 08.12.2011 4:18 PM PDT


Posted by: Wolverfrog

Posted by: ZeonCobra
Nice job on the story, but aren't you going to update it on Fanfiction.net?


I will when book two is finished. I'll certainly have my work cut out, there's a lot of update.

Sorry that this next chapter it taking a while to write; rest assured I am writing it; I was considering releasing it as it was but decided it wasn't apt to end the chapter there and so have extended it. It's the longest chapter to date (I seem to be saying that with every chapter recently) and it's still got a little bit to go before completion; there are a lot of big moments in it.

Thanks for your patience.


Take your time, Wolverfrog. Your stories are amazing. Sorry i can't say more, i'm just REALLY tired atm.

:)

  • 08.12.2011 5:00 PM PDT

your stories are fantastic, I haven't seen anything better.
I would like to know when your next update will be for True Sangheili, or Memoirs of an ODST(book 2)?

  • 08.12.2011 5:19 PM PDT


Posted by: AssaultCommand
He dropped memoirs II because he didn't like where it was going or something.
But I figure TS should be out within a month.


It won't take that long, it's almost finished. 10,000 words long so far so it's certainly a decently long read :)

  • 08.14.2011 5:25 PM PDT

I meant, would he return to it. and yes I know he dropped it a long time ago...

  • 08.14.2011 6:51 PM PDT

The tide is turning, brothers! Let us take our kingdom back!


Posted by: Wolverfrog

Posted by: AssaultCommand
He dropped memoirs II because he didn't like where it was going or something.
But I figure TS should be out within a month.


It won't take that long, it's almost finished. 10,000 words long so far so it's certainly a decently long read :)
That's... rather alarming.

  • 08.15.2011 1:30 AM PDT
Subject: [Story] True Sangheili (Part Nine is available!) ~ 30/09

Posted by: Illusive66
I had to log on to post this. I have not been here all that long, and I do not post that often. But, I have been lurking for a long while.

YOU MADE ME POST THIS


Greetings. Perhaps it would be better if you did not post, for you seem to be trying to incite what we of the internet call a flame-war. Or, perhaps you are just a jealous child who has written a terrible fanfiction and are now jealous of the Lord of Fanfiction's story.

What the hell is with this? Are you trying to bore me with two dimensional characters, a story which has obviously been made up as it went along and twists so obvious a bat could see them? Your vocabulary is limited and your intelligence is in question.

I find the characters to be very 3 dimensional. And I'm betting most novels are made up as they go along. The twists really aren't that obvious (Well, I knew Ahkrin was going to kill Restraint the moment it was said he was called by the Hierarchs).

I do not believe Wolverfrog's vocabulary is limited at all, and the only person whose intelligence is in question here is yours. The writers intelligence has nothing to do with this, however. I do wish you would try to be less irrelevant.

I read this story out of fascination that a story could actually gather a damned fanbase when other fan fics get no readers at all, its just unfair and retarded.

Fun-Fact: This story gets more readers because, perhaps, people like it more than other stories. That, my friend, is called an opinion. You learn something new every day, don't you?

Another Fun-Fact: You are a jealous child who was probably written a terrible fanfiction. If you want viewers, please, try not to write something like this: "once upon a time m4st3r ch13f kicked ass the end".

Also, I can't help but notice how overly human you make the elites, they're not tea-drinking, chocolate eating brits, they are aliens and they should be portrayed as such. You've somehow managed to make half of your fanbase -blam!-ly attracted to aliens, you are a furry machine and I seriously think you might be attracted to fricking elites too.

While I kind of agree the Sangheili seemed a little to much like humans at times, its better than "WORT WORT WORT".

How dare you accuse any of his fanbase of being attracted to aliens without evidence. You sir, are an abomination! *smacks with leather glove*

I know not why you think Wolver is one of those appalling creatures we call "furries".

Anyway, had to get that off my chest.

Thank you for your opinion. It is important to us. Now if you'll excuse me, I must take out the trash. *throws Illusive66's opinion in a trash compactor*

-Your friend, Sangheili Prophet. :)

Now that that's over with, great chapters Wolverfrog. Keep 'em coming!

  • 08.16.2011 8:04 AM PDT

What a waste....

^Inciting the flame war

Guys, if somebody posts some detrimental comment that isn't constructive criticism, let's just ignore it. This should go for all of the gallery.

  • 08.16.2011 9:49 AM PDT
Subject: [Novel] True Sangheili (Part 33 available!) ~ 29th July

Why hello there.

Microwave ovens are quite large.

WORT, WORT,WORT!

-NUMS!

We know who illusive66 is. He's actually a friend of Wolvers and me who is just trolling on an alt so don't take him seriously. I don't want this to get locked so let's keep posts on topic.

And can't wait for the next part, it sounds excellent.

[Edited on 08.16.2011 12:20 PM PDT]

  • 08.16.2011 12:17 PM PDT

Well, chapter 34 is finished, finally. Clocking in at half the length of Insurrection's epilogue and about three times the length of True Sangheili's last chapter, it's a long one with a lot happening in it.

As a result, I'll have to spend a while proof-reading it too. But it's worth the wait, I think. I want to make sure I've captured the essence of the events in this chapter the best I can.

Expect it soon, though.

  • 08.19.2011 10:22 AM PDT

Why hello there.

Microwave ovens are quite large.

WORT, WORT,WORT!

-NUMS!

Awesome, I can't wait.

  • 08.19.2011 10:54 AM PDT

Certainly looking forward to it.

  • 08.19.2011 8:49 PM PDT

Why hello there.

Microwave ovens are quite large.

WORT, WORT,WORT!

-NUMS!


Posted by: AssaultCommand
I'll help you proof-read it if you want. Even if you don't want it, I'd help you.

Actually, I just want to read it early. Yeah, I know...


I've been asking him to let me "proof-read" for a long time now.

  • 08.19.2011 9:20 PM PDT

Oh boy. Cant wait.

  • 08.21.2011 1:40 AM PDT

Part 34 - The tower came crashing down


With grace the impulse drives slowed to a halt, deftly weaving a path out of the void like fine scissors cutting open a patch of cloth. As the ship emerged through the hole, the rift behind them sewed itself back together as if nothing had been there.

Before the rest of the fleet had even followed suit, the battle began.

"Report," Zharn barked to his bridge crew as the March of Righteousness shuddered dangerously. All around the room instruments were flashing lights and spitting out noise, holograms flickering to display the status of the ship and its surroundings.

"Multiple Halcyon-class ships targeting our position, fleetmaster!" a pilot told him, the hue of fear colouring his voice. Zharn frowned as he grabbed a railing to steady his position.

"We were supposed to exit the void outside their kill-zone," he swore. "Where is the rest of the fleet?"

"Navigation places them several thousand kilometres behind us, leader," the same pilot reported with confusion. ".. outside the kill-zone."

Zharn's eyes widened as he looked at the rest of the UNSC fleet soaring to meet them, only a few thousands kilometres outside targeting range; the Righteousness' shields would not hold for too long against that. He felt a sickening drop in his stomach.

"Treachery," he breathed out angrily, assessing the situation before them. After scouring through the banks of the data they'd secured from Eridanus II carefully, Zharn had found a lead to a collective of human trade ships. It was there they'd ambushed a small transport-frigate, taking its captain on board.

The man had held his tongue for some time, but in the end everyone talks. And so he did, revealing the location of this planet; Baron VII. Seemingly it wasn't a terribly important colony as shown by only a dozen or so ships protecting the planet, but with luck it would lead to greater colonies the humans held or, Forerunners willing, their home world.

But of course, they'd first have to survive this battle. Which wasn't looking likely.

"Fleetmaster?" an Unggoy asked him uncertainly, waiting for his orders. Zharn looked out the lone viewing window at the very front of the ship, at the twelve or so ships converging upon their position like iron filings drawn to a magnet.

"Open me a channel to our fellow ships," Zharn commanded, hearts pounding with fear; not for himself, but the crew and fleet that he was supposed to watch over. The Unggoy nodded, and a few moments later such a channel arose.

"Fleetmaster, there has been a terrible mistake," he heard the oily voice belong to the shipmaster of the Deluge of Diffidence break across the channel. The same Sangheili he had thrown the knife at the day before.

Zharn regretted missing.

"Do not waste your breath on your lies, shipmaster," he swore angrily down the line, nearly being bowled off his feet as he unconsciously took his hands off the rail to clench them into fists. "I understand you and the other shipmasters take issue with my command, but you would really condemn this entire ship to death purely to be rid of me?"

"Of course not, leader," the Parade of Asperity's shipmaster uttered with pretend-shock. "This was a horrible accident; I suggest you replace your navigation Huragoks. We are heading towards you posthaste, just keep your shields up to maximum and you will be safe enough.

"When this is over--" Zharn threatened angrily, or at least tried to before being cut off by another arrogant shipmaster.

"Leader, if we keep this channel open any longer the humans may hack into it. We will be with you in a few short minutes," he was told abruptly, before the channel was suddenly shut. For a few seconds Zharn stood there, stunned by their insolence towards a superior. Obviously the former fleetmaster before Xatan'ee had not ran a tight ship.

So they mean merely to scare me, not kill me... for now, Zharn thought as he saw in the holographic representation of the naval battle the other ships in the fleet move to come alongside his own vessel. I cannot legally replace them without hard evidence. Something else must be done.

Perhaps he was thinking about this in the wrong way. Maybe he did not need to replace them. They obviously did not respect him; a lowly ultra who had managed to claw his way to fleetmaster through an antiquated tradition.

But if he earned their respect, even if it was through fear... perhaps he could make this fleet into something truly great. Nothing to do now though but play their little games.

"Fleetmaster?" the Unggoy in command of logistics asked, that same uncertain note tinting his voice. He saw it reflected in the faces of all his crew; they did not trust him at all. Zharn sighed, knowing what he said next would not change those sentiments any more.

"Divert all power sans life support and engines to shielding," he ordered reluctantly. "We must wait for the rest of the fleet to join us before we can wage battle on the enemy."

He heard a few exasperated sighs around the room then, and almost felt like echoing them himself. There was a noticeable increase in the humming of the shielding as more power was pushed into it until eventually the March of Righteousness was engulfed in an almost-opaque violet cocoon, repelling the ordnance the human ships catapulted at his flagship; the shield wouldn't last forever, but would hold long enough for the rest of the fleet to enter the field of battle.

Of course, by then his ship would then be nearly drained of power, leaving the other shipmasters to take their vessels and eliminate the enemy without their fleetmaster at the head of battle as was standard.

What the serpents had planned all along, no doubt. It would not look good for Zharn in the report.

Bastards!

* * *

He walked along the dark streets of High Charity, clothes as rags and a hood drawn over his head. All he limped past gave him a wide berth, not dignifying him with a glance. Why would they? To even look at such a wretched beggar would tarnish their social standings.

Exactly why Ahkrin had chosen to don such a costume. Not even the guards between districts looked at him as he moved through the holy city. As such, they didn't notice the various weapons strapped beneath the rags, even when many of them were poking out ever so slightly.

Hiding in plain sight.

Beneath those rags, Ahkrin wore the instruments of death. A tight fitting light armour to protect him from any fire, bolstered by a compact person energy shield. Affixed to his belt were a dozen or so knives, perfect for silently taking any targets out. On his back, a whisper-carbine, as silent and fatal as the Sangheili who carried it.

In his left eye he had placed an optical display, which even now displayed a motion tracker in the bottom left corner; an oval which was currently almost completely filled with small dots representing people moving past aside from a tiny little strip around Ahkrin where people were avoiding him.

Lesser assassins would need artificial assistance to see in the almost pitch black he would be operating in, but Ahkrin had long since trained himself to see nearly as well in night as he did during day.

He was all prepared to kill the High Councillor of Restraint. Thinking that seemed... wrong. Restraint had been a popular hierarch during his term before the 9th Age of Reclamation, if not a little unconcerned with responsibility.

Yet even that had apparently changed since being deposed, Ahkrin had heard. Now the High Councillor carried himself as if the weight of the worlds were pressing upon his shoulders. It made sense, the Sangheili supposed; a man committing such heresies would not walk around with a light conscience.

To head directly for Restraint's manor and think he could bludgeon his way in would be suicide, though. The guard had been almost doubled recently, although according to prelimiary intelligence Ahkrin had gathered a few were protecting some Sangheili female on the station... probably just the daughter of a friend or acquaintance.

Before leaving, Ahkrin had gone over technical schematics of the entire council district. Normally such documents were off-limits to even the highest of personnel in the military, but Ahkrin was getting assistance from the very top. Procuring the blue-prints and the weapons he wore had been easy.

The foundations of the district were solid metal, unfortunately. In some places upon High Charity, you could find sections underground where all that held the surface up was rock which remained from the San 'Shyuum's shattered homeworld; easily tunnelled through. But in this case, an underground assault would be impossible.

He had, however, found a spire merely a kilometre from Restraint's manor. Comprised almost entirely out of Forerunner hard-light, it wasn't usually active aside from during festivals of religion and culture. However, at Ahkrin's request the hierarchs had rendered it so the spire was active, citing technical issues to the public.

Ahkrin did not expect he would be able to take the High Councillor out from up there via a sniper; even with the barrier down he was likely too careful to let something like that happen and probably had active personal shielding to protect from such high velocity projectiles.

But at the very least he would be able to observe the manor from up high, note down blind spots and plan an attack.

It was the gate leading to this spire he reached now; it reached up into the air like a giant blue stalagmite, emanating a soft blue glow. Before moving to greet the guards at the gate, he cast off his beggars'-rags and instead threw a heavy coat over himself, obscuring his weapons from their sight.

  • 08.22.2011 5:17 PM PDT

It was raining on High Charity right now, again at Ahkrin's request. As such, it would not seem strange to be wearing such a garment.

"Evening," he drawled in the accent of a working-class Sangheili, born of a lower house. The guards at the gate seemed to slowly wake up to attention, obviously not expecting anyone. One reached down to his side as if searching for his weapon, and managed to get the wrong side.

Obviously these guards were not competent ones. Hence why they were assigned to such a lowly post.

"Access to the spire is restricted to the public aside from during festivals, sir," one of them apologised, clearly having the force the 'sir' out to the lowly being before him. Ahkrin reached into the folds of his coat, and drew out a small device the size of a button. He pressed it with his thumb softly, and the holographic ID he'd forged appeared, cutting through the night with its golden sheen.

"I'm from the ministry," he told them in the same drawl as he passed the ID over for them to check. "I hear your spire's not working right."

"That's right, and he's got a tower of hard-light behind him not operating properly too," the Sangheili he hadn't addressed joked badly, earning him a sharp jab in the side from his fellow. Ahkrin laughed heartily at the crudeness.

"Very clever, sir," he falsely praised in that same idiosyncratic dialect. "Is everything in order regarding my credentials?"

Finally the guard passed the ID back, nodding.

"Be careful up there," he was told. "For all we know it could deactivate at any time."

"I'll keep mostly to the real zones," Ahkrin assured them, referring to the small sections of the spire comprised out of metal rather than hard-light. "Shouldn't take no more than a few hours, sirs."

"Head on up then," he was invited as the gate slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Ahkrin thanked them curtly, drawing his coat tighter around him and slowly beginning his long ascent up the spiralling spire of light.

* * *

"Not bad," Blademaster Katoth'ee finally conceded to Sorran as they ended their spar, each with a blade at the other's neck. Sorran would be a little more proud of that had Katoth'ee not decided to handicap himself by tying his right arm behind his back and obscuring one eye with a blindfold.

"Swords mean little when put up against rifles," Sorran gasped, wiping sweat from his brow. They both stood in Katoth'ee's courtyard, watched over the by great Helios. The master warrior's gaze darkened at that little heresy.

"Is that so?" he demanded, a small smile playing upon his lips as he untied his arm and tore the cloth from his head; although even older than Hem, Katoth'ee still possessed about him a ferocious aura that must have been utterly terrifying in his prime. He then turned to Hem, who was watching them with amusement from a small distance. "Show your pupil that is not so."

Hem stood up with a wry grin across his face, before drawing out a plasma rifle and firing a volley of shots at his former tutor. Sorran yelped in surprise, staggering back to avoid to super-heated bursts as they surged towards the unarmored Katoth'ee.

They never reached their target.

Moving like a blur, Katoth'ee twirled his blade in an intricate circular motion until it almost looked like a solid circle. The plasma rounds smashed into the circle, pushed it back a little and was finally absorbed by the similar composition of the blade. Finally the Sangheili blademaster lowered his sword, energy discharging into the baked earth.

Hem laughed, putting his rifle back in its nest. Katoth'ee merely stared at Sorran, challenge playing about his eyes, as the sword retreated into the hilt.

"That's not a certified combat manoeuvre," Sorran grumbled lamely as his eyes averted the ancient Sangheili's striking-green gaze.

"You're not in the Covenant army, boy," Katoth'ee chastised, throwing a small rock at his head. Sorran winced at the small blow. "When the High Councillor is touring the colonies and a rebel faction decides to try and kill him because they disagree with the policies he advocates, they won't be fighting according to protocol."

Sorran smiled, but all the while wished that his job was as simple as protecting Restraint as he delivered speeches throughout the Covenant.

Katoth'ee did not know the truth about the Great Journey. Not because he couldn't be trusted, that was certain. It was clear Hem trusted no one else in the world more than his former master. Rather, the reason the once-General had not been let in on their terrible secret was because Hem did not want to burden the few years Katoth'ee had left with a revelation that would crush the very religious man.

So they had to be careful about what they said around him.

Around the complex several of Katoth'ee permanent pupils could be seen walking through the pillars, watching the two honour guards who were visiting with curiosity. The Sangheili's home and academy was only a few hundred miles away from San, which was still visible in the distance. On the main-strip, you could traverse the distance in just under twenty minutes.

"Hem, who is this boy you bring before me? Is Restraint also recruiting Unggoy fresh off the teat into his personal guard too?" Katoth'ee joked, and although Sorran felt a little offended by the Sangheili's words he could understand where he was coming from. To an outsider, seeing such an ill-trained honour guard must be an odd sight.

"I was a friend of his father," Hem lied deftly, not hesitating for a second. "Just before he passed away last season, I promised him I would look after his only son and give him a good life. Sorran is trying sometimes, but he has a sharp mind which Restraint finds more useful than his skills with a blade."

"I imagine," Katoth'ee laughed, patting Sorran on the back to show he was just kidding. "But there is a warrior within this one, most certainly. A few months and I can bring hit out, I guarantee."

"We will see," Hem mused thoughtfully. "In these capricious worlds we live in, it is hard to commit to anything."

"Take opportunities as they come," Katoth'ee lectured them both, slipping back into the familiar role of teacher. "For when you are old and facing your final few years like myself, you should be able to look back at your life and see one well lived."

"Do you?" Sorran asked, wondering if the question was too personal. Katoth'ee thought for a moment, before nodding.

"Yes... although it has not been completely without sorrow. But you must take the good with the bad, and treat fortune as a gift, not a right. I have been Lord General of the Covenant once upon a time, which is more than most can say."

"Do you miss it?" Sorran continued his onslaught of questions. "Being in the Covenant, I mean."

"I do," Katoth'ee confessed. "There is a certain camaraderie and sense of adventure that can only be found in the army, one I am sorry you will miss due to being in the guard, Sorran. Yet I am also glad for you, as you are free from the shackles of this terrible, senseless war with the humans. We have them on the run, yes, but we are also losing far too many of our own."

"They are indeed a formidable foe," Hem agreed, walking over to them. "Were it not for their heresy, I would advocate their welcoming into our Covenant with open arms."

"Bah, we have too many species as it is," Katoth'ee grumbled. "I remember when the Jiralhanae joined; now that was a tragic day. The species I had commanded be grounded to their homeworld for their barbarity suddenly uplifted by order of the hierocracy and inducted into our collective. We should just leave the humans be; the galaxy is more than large enough for us all."

"Enough talk," Hem suddenly interrupted, drawing out his energy blade with an air of challenge. He looked at Katoth'ee, brow raised. "What say you, old man? Think you can still match your former pupil's hand?"

"Hem, my old friend," Katoth'ee told his once-student with sympathy, unsheathing his sword once more. "Even when I am buried beneath the ground we now stand on, you willnot best me in swordplay. But if you insist on embarrassing yourself before your student, then I shall oblige."

Oh, this should be hilarious, Sorran thought to himself happily, finding a rock nearby and reclining on it in preparation for the show.

* * *

  • 08.22.2011 5:18 PM PDT

* * *

They sat once more in the war room, tension higher than it had ever been. Zharn felt like throttling each and every one of the pretentious, obnoxious shipmasters before him.

"Well, that went well," one of them began, and he was met with murmuring agreement from his fellows. Zharn gripped the edge of the table even tighter, turning his fingers as pale as the sunlight being thrown in the room by the system's distant star.

"It was... fortuitous you were able to support my ship so swiftly," he began. "Arriving just before my shields collapsed. Why, a conspiratorial mind might even suggest such an occurrence had been planned."

As one fourteen pairs of eyes shifted guilty, all but confirming their guilt.

"Surely you are not accusing us of any foul play?" the Deluge of Diffidence shipmaster asked Zharn with narrowed eyes. Zharn merely laid out his hands wide, shrugging.

"I am merely stating the facts as they could be perceived. Take it as you will," he told them sharply, forcing himself to refrain from bursting out with expletives. "Do you know what would be a truly strange thing, though?"

They all looked amongst it each.

"What?" the shipmaster of the Parade of Asperity demanded shrewdly. Zharn shrugged, looking around as if he were trying to think of some tale.

"Imagine if someone suspected their life was being threatened by a group of distasteful people," he told them. "Hypothetically, that person in danger might take the liberty of setting it up so that his assets would be sold should he die in any circumstances that seemed suspicious."

Their eyes narrowed. Zharn felt a small smile tug at his jaw. He continued speaking.

"Such a person might have it so finances gained through such a move would be used to take contracts out on the lives of every member belonging to the group of distasteful people."

As one, the fourteen faces of the shipmasters fell so their once-beaming grins had been mirrored into horrified grimaces.

"You haven't--" one of them began in a strangled voice, a shade or two lighter than he had been moments before. Zharn frowned at them theatrically.

"I haven't done anything. Why would I need to, with such a wonderful and loyal group of subordinates beneath me? I am merely speaking in hypotheticals, of course. If I were threatened in such a way of course, then the plan I outlined before would of course be the only plan of action I could take. Wouldn't you do the same?"

"Fleetmaster, we didn't mean--" one of them protested with despair, cut off by Zharn's hand.

"Of course you would. It'd be petty, but it would be nice to know that should anything happen to you those responsible would eventually pay, wouldn't it?"

"Perhaps we have given you the wrong message, Thierr'ee--" another shipmaster stuttered out, his voice an octave higher than usual. Zharn shook his head.

"I would love nothing more than to discuss hypotheticals all day with you, noble shipmasters, but I must go and co-ordinate the ground assault upon Baron VII now. Perhaps you could remember my tale the next time you think of something clever to do."

And with that, Zharn left his seat, smiled widely at their stunned, ashen faces before neatly spinning and walking out the room with a confident stride.

That felt good.

* * *

He may be a heretic, but Restraint certainly knows how to live, Ahkrin admired once more as he stared through an optical magnifier at the High Councillor's minor, perched as he was atop the spire of light. He'd set up a sniper rifle next to him in case an opportune moment presented itself, but so far he had been up on top of the spire for hours and had seen but one glimpse of Restraint, a quick flash behind a very heavily shielded small window.

The Unggoy servant who was also in on the heresy, Jajab, had been spotted by Ahkrin many times shuffling around the grounds. But although too a target, he was not worth the shot that would alert the guard to an assassin's presence. No, he could be dealt with once the life had left Restraint's body.

The patrols of the honour guard were rather thorough, he admired. They certainly took their job seriously, not merely standing around stoically like most of the guard did. Rain was smoothly diverted away from them as if magnetically repulsed, informing Ahkrin that they were all equipped with personal shielding systems.

Shrouding the manor too was a blanketing energy shield, allowing the rain to pass through but repulsing any objects swept into it by the wind; dead leaves and blossom from the trees of High Charity were incinerated as they brushed into its shimmering surface.

No doubt they would do something similar to Ahkrin should he try to pass through it he doubted he'd be incinerated, but certainly would emerge on the other side considerably more toasty than he was now.

This Ossoona's device had better work when I need it, he thought, staring down at the small, button-like object clipped to his belt. He did not trust Pel, or any of the hierarchs. They seemed far too eager to put Restraint in the ground, and Ahkrin suspected personal motives as well as a wish to put heresy to rest. He knew Restraint had been challenging the hierarchs in matters of state recently, which no doubt offended them.

But Restraint was most certainly a heretic. Ahkrin had analysed the recordings and files after the hierarchs had left him alone with them, and had found no signs of tampering or forgery, and if anyone could detect such interferences, it would be him.

No doubt he will try to spin me a fanciful yarn before I kill him, Ahkrin thought to himself, once more moving the optical magnifier over Restraint's manor. I have fallen for such tricks before, and nearly paid with my life. This time, any words that come out of his mouth will soon be cut short.

Perhaps when Ahkrin had status once more, he would retire from all this. He had been fighting all of his life, and had grown tired of the blade which even now seemed wet with the blood that would soon coat it. His family's lands restored, he could build property upon them once more. Between his years as an assassin and stealth Sangheili in the Covenant, he had amassed a considerable pile of money which sat in account. He'd never thought to use much of it, as with his house in disgrace he was forbidden from buying land and other such commodities Sangheili usually purchased.

Yet that would soon change. He could have a home, a mate... perhaps even children, one day.

Oh gods, I've gone soft. If Zharn could see me now, Ahkrin thought, chuckling to himself wryly before that humour died in his throat. He would not want to see me, he made that much clear the last time we spoke.

Maybe when this was all done, Ahkrin could reconcile with his brother. Having status and honour worth mentioning for the first time in his life would doubtless mean something to the other Sangheili... Ahkrin might genuinely finally receive the respect he'd always suspected Zharn feigned. It would be nice to tell people his name without them looking down their nose at him. If all worked well he could even one day have subordinates of his own--

There! Ahkrin's forever-alert subconscious shouted at him as his eyes picked out a weakness in the patrol route of the honour guards. A blind spot left unseen for six seconds. With speed, luck and active camouflage, he could perhaps bound across it and reach the interior of the High Councillor's residence.

Recording the blind spot for reference when he would reach the foot of the manor, Ahkrin drew back from the edge of the spire and packed his tools away, before standing up and beginning the long descent back down.

When he reached the bottom, he opened up a channel to Ossoona Pel, who was to be his contact for the mission.

"I've found a way in, you can deactivate the spire," he told the other Sangheili sharply, stepping off the hard-light onto solid ground once more. He approached the gate where the two guards stood slowly, throwing his heavy coat back on.

"Excellent," the Ossoona praised him, like a father would to a child who had scored highly in an exam at an academy. "We will continue to monitor your situation, Ahkrin. Forerunners guide you."

The channel shut down just as Ahkrin reached the gate. A few seconds later, so did the spire. The light spluttered once, then twice, and finally sunk back into the projector embedded into the ground. Darkness returned as the soft blue permeating the air retreated with the now-gone spire, leaving the area shrouded in black once more.

"You took a while," one of the guards at the gate noticed as Ahkrin passed through. "Any trouble up there?"

"I don't want to bore you with tech," Ahkrin answered wearily. "If only the hierocracy would give me a Huragok to work with."

"They're in short supply, what with the war and all," the other guard sympathised. "I doubt it will be too long before we're replaced with Jiralhanae and shipped out to battle ourselves."

  • 08.22.2011 5:19 PM PDT

"At least you wouldn't be standing out in the night rain were that to happen," Ahkrin joked. The two Sangheili tried to smile, but were obviously too weary to do so properly and so it ended up looking more like a begrudging grimace.

"So everything's fixed then?" the second guard broke the silence, obviously giving Ahkrin his cue to leave. He nodded.

"If you have any more problems, just contact the agency. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bed to fall into," Ahkrin finished, turning around and preparing to walk away.

"Lucky bastard--" the first guard began to call after him, before suddenly stopping and letting out a little gasp. Ahkrin froze, tensing. He looked back at the guard, seeing him staring down at Ahkrin's right side. Ahkrin followed the gaze of the man, realising what it was he was staring at.

Protruding from the cloak he wore as the barrel of the whisper-carbine, looking incredibly dangerous.

Blast, Ahkrin cursed, turning around fully. The guards both had their weapons out, aiming them at him with shaking hands.

"W-why do you have that?" one of them demanded nervously, voice rising a few levels in the middle of his sentence. Realising the ruse was over, Ahkrin tossed aside his cloak and revealed to them his full assassin's attire. Their jaws seemed to sink into the ground.

"You saw nothing," Ahkrin told them in a deadly-quiet voice. "I am on official business of our most holy Covenant, no concern of yours. You will go about your duties as if you never saw me, and will not breathe a word of their to any lest you wish to meet the sharp edge of the blade you are both now so intently staring at it. Am I understood?"

They didn't speak, only managing a terrified little nod between them. Ahkrin returned it, before picking up the cloak and throwing it over him once more.

This time when he walked away, not a word was spoken. He suspected the two would not make so much as a sound for the rest of the night.

* * *

Wraith mortars sailed across the sky, cutting through the night like deadly falling stars. Their fire was retaliated by the heavy pounding of scorpion tanks and human defensive artillery. Banshees and vampires cut through the air, dancing with hornets, falcons and shortswords. Covenant crashed into UNSC.

Zharn had seen it all before, and it almost always ended with Covenant victory. This time however, rather than be in the battle himself commanding a lance or two, he was thousands of kilometres above the war relaying orders to the entire army.

The holographic projection before him did a very good job of conveying the scene; a fully three-dimensional representation of the battle below, in real time. As he barked orders to ground commanders, who would then relay his orders to their own troops, it felt like he was playing a game.

Except the consequences were real. Every holographic figure who fell represented a real warrior. Their target was a human complex; intelligence had discovered that the humans had many facilities upon Baron VII focused on reverse-engineering Covenant technology. He had been ordered by higher command to ensure the destruction of all these research labs; by conventional means if possible, or by calling in a glassing in extreme measures.

Zharn wondered if he could do that. To destroy an entire planet... surely that was a crime against the universe itself? A wonder that had formed over billions of years. And in hours he was expected to reduce it to glass if all went awry.

He had his orders, though. For now he would do his best to merely destroy the facilities and perhaps force the humans into a retreat, saving the Covenant the exponential costs in energy and manpower that came with a glassing and also saving himself the horror of having to order such an act.

"Pelicans attempting to flank Scarab sigma," chatter sounded across the tactical communications channel, which linked him to the entire army below. Zharn turned to his battery operator.

"Fire quaternary guns at those Pelicans on the surface; burn them out of the sky," he commanded forcefully, and within moments his order was carried out. The ship vibrated as the plasma battery on its underside warmed up, until finally he saw out the observation window several torpedoes of brightest blue fall from the ship to the planet below. With precision that could only have been bettered by an associated intelligence, the plasma tore through the pelicans and set them ablaze.

The threat to Scarab sigma eliminated, Zharn turned his attention back towards the greater battle. Even one completely unfamiliar with warfare would be able to see the humans were being pushed back by the greater numbers and firepower of the Covenant.

He wished he could be down there, feeling the rush of adrenaline as his sword swiped across the battlefield. Up here, he felt... nothing, aside from a terror in his stomach stemming from the worry he would not do his job correctly. All eyes were upon him, he knew, waiting to see what the new fleetmaster would perform like.

Suddenly, he noticed an anomaly in the tide of battle. Whereas a wave was cascading across the humans practically everywhere, nearly pushing inside the facility itself, there was a narrow strip slicing its way through the tsunami of purple and leading a mass of green into the breach.

"Magnify!" Zharn shouted sharply, indicating on the hologram the area he wanted zoomed in. As if he were falling towards it, that specific area of the battlefield enlarged.

Marines were charging into an entire century of Sangheili, roaring with morale they should not have possessed. Leading the charge was... what Zharn could only describe as a blur. It raced forward, cutting down Covenant in its unwavering path.

The blur reached the foot of Scarab omega, before darting up its leg as if it were flying. Small guns fire echoed from within the mighty behemoth; piloted by Sangheili rather than the lekgolo fast becoming standard.

Then, the firing stopped. Marines surged to meet the scarab but were not being attacked by it. Sickeningly, the scarab then began to sink down to the ground and the human soldiers boarded it swiftly, running up the ramps and firing out at the Covenant rushing towards it.

A wraith spun to meet the scarab; its pilot contacted Zharn.

"Fleetmaster, should I--?" the Sangheili within began to question.

"Fire!" Zharn interrupted shrilly. The wraith raised its cannon, primed to fire--

Only to be swept away in a sudden stream of poison green, bursting from the toxic mouth of the scarab -- now obviously under human control. It spun to face the rest of the Covenant army, before its gun port charged up.

"All units, focus on Scarab omega!" Zharn commanded, realising what was about to happen. "Battery officer, fire secondary weaponry at that vehicle now!"

Too little too late.

The commandeered scarab unleashed its payload upon a third of the attacking Covenant forces, instantly decimating hundreds of warriors and brushing aside wraiths, ghosts, banshees and revenants as if they were shades of light. After the deed was done, Zharn saw the blur which had wrought all this dive out boldly, followed by a mass of fleeing marines.

They cleared the scarab moments before his ship's secondary fire bellowed into it, lighting it up in a blaze of emerald fire. But the damage had been done; many of the Covenant forces had been killed or injured by the human-controlled scarab, and now the humans were back in the came. The tidal wave of purple was pushed back slowly by an equally powerful gust of green, until eventually the two were even with each other, both refusing to give ground.

No longer under constant fire, several evacuation ships left the planet's surface and tore into slipspace before Zharn's fleet could knock them back down.

How did this happen? Zharn wondered. "Rewind footage, focus in on... whatever that blur was."

The last few painful seconds replayed themselves on the holographic representation, before being slowed down to a snail's pace. The blur was captured as it ran along the floor, bullets firing from it with cold, machine-like precision.

"Enhance!"

Slowly, the quality of the image sharpened until eventually Zharn could discern the origin of the killer-blur.

A demon, he realised with dread as he saw the familiar armour and flashing golden visor. He peered closer, and further dread swept over him as he recognised the numbering on its armour. Not just any demon... it's the one from Eridanus II.

Suddenly, he knew what it was he had to do. Pulling away from the command pedestal he viewed the battle from, he turned to his second.

"Take command," he told the Sangheili, voice heavy. The sub-commander blinked with surprise, eyes rounding.

"Why?" he asked. Zharn merely checked his armour was working and that his weapons were all where they should be on his person. When he spoke, he addressed the entire bridge.

"I have a demon to slay."

* * *

  • 08.22.2011 5:22 PM PDT