RP:Imperium/Content


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=RP:Imperium=

Prologue
Captain Reynald Donnelly stood back as the doors to the bridge opened, and found himself wishing for the hundredth time today that someone else had been given this job.

Donnelly strode across the deck while his assembled command staff stood at attention, followed closely by his guest and the source of all of today's problems. Neglecting the padded command chair he desperately wanted to rest in, the Captain gestured towards the row of stations ahead of them.

"Weapons, navigation, communications," he said flatly as a group of officers below nodded or waved. "This is where we run the ship."

Stood behind Donnelly was Shipmaster Keyn Goras, a hulking Sangheili clad in golden armour. Standing at nearly eight feet tall, he easily towered over everyone aboard the Haversham, which made his utterly condescending attitude even more of an annoyance to deal with. A pair of predatory saurian eyes flicked around the bridge, looking for something to comment on

"I see," his low, rumbling voice could be heard throughout the room. "It seems efficient, though exposed."

That was the closest he had come to a compliment all day. "Halberds are built with efficiency in mind," Donnelly replied. "What we lack in defence, we make up for in speed."

While he knew just about every shortcoming of the Halberd-class destroyer and had complained a great deal about the vessels in his eight years of captaincy, Donnelly found himself becoming incredibly protective of his ship and all its features. He had spent the past hour personally escorting Shipmaster Goras across every deck, and had met the Sangheili's constant remarks about weakness and inefficiency with polite counterpoints. Looking out over the port-side viewscreen, he caught sight of the Ferocity, a venerable SDV-class heavy corvette that had been sent on this mission alongside the Haversham.

Interspecies cooperation, Donnelly thought to himself as he watched Goras looming over his officers. I hope Lieutenant Aziz is having a better time over there.

As this area fell under the joint jurisdiction of both the United Nations Space Command and the Swords of Sanghelios, some bright spark had gotten the idea of paired patrols; sending warships from both races to investigate reports of piracy or communications blackouts. While the idea had been readily accepted by the bureaucrats and politicians, many among the UNSC Navy barely tolerated working alongside former Covenant members. Nonetheless, Donnelly knew better than to offend Goras; the Sangheili often took insults poorly, and the last thing he wanted was to flush away a promising career for causing a diplomatic incident.

"Captain," the Shipmaster spoke slowly, as if addressing a child. "Were we to encounter pirates, what course of action would you take?"

"I would assess the situation, and depending on the threat level I would either engage or attempt to contact reinforcements."

Goras huffed. A satisfactory answer. "Then if we engaged, which of our vessels would enter the fray first?"

Donnelly realised where this was going; he wanted to know who had seniority in a combat situation. "Your corvette is larger and better-armed, and can deploy fighters. It would move in first while we provided support."

"Naturally," the Shipmaster turned away, abruptly cutting off his line of questioning. "Then if this tour is finished, I would like to return to the Ferocity."

"Of course." I can't wait to see you gone either, you lousy hinge-head bastard. "We'll contact your ship and-"

Suddenly, a brief siren sounded by the navigation console. The officer there, Lieutenant Warren, input command after command while Donnelly and Goras approached.

"Sir," Warren half-turned, still typing with one hand. "We've picked up something on the long-range scanners."

"Trouble?" the Captain asked.

Warren glanced back to his screen as new information scrolled across it. "Looks like a warship, sir. Covenant."

With this, a shiver ran down Donnelly's spine, though he wasn't sure if it was out of excitement or worry. Ignoring Goras for the time being, he walked over to his command chair, sat down, and brought up a tactical screen before bringing up the ship's intercom.

"All hands, to your stations," his calm voice echoed through the Haversham's corridors. "Possible enemy warship sighted."

The Sangheili seemed to take the situation well, and stood by Donnelly's chair with his arms folded as the crew scrambled to their stations, readying weapons and pinpointing the last known position of the distant vessel. The rust-coloured planet Montak loomed ahead; the destination of today's mission.

"So it was more than a communications failure," Goras nodded, looking rather pleased. "That is good."

"You wanted a fight?"

"I wanted something more than endless patrols of empty space."

At this, Donnelly couldn't help but lean back in his chair with a chuckle, realising that he might have more in common with the grumpy Shipmaster than he first realised. "You and me both."

Twenty uneventful minutes passed as the Haversham and the Ferocity sped up, moving around the planet towards the source of the disturbance. From what Donnelly knew, Montak had been almost undisturbed until a few years before the end of the war, when an enterprising corporation had discovered vast mineral deposits there that could be mined and used to fuel the then-ongoing war effort against the Covenant. While that never came to pass, the resource-rich world had been put to good use since then by the Liang-Dortmund Corporation, who had essentially laid claim to the entire planet. A world like this out on the frontier would be a prime target for piracy, which led to the two warships being dispatched after all communications from Montak abruptly cut off three days ago.

"We'll have visual contact in thirty seconds," Lieutenant Warren called up.

"Good" Donnelly nodded. "Ready weapons and prepare to open communications."

Goras glanced over. "You are willing to speak to pirates?"

"Naval code dictates that we give them at least one chance to surrender. Will your ship?"

There was a brief pause as Goras considered it. In Donnelly's eyes, he was likely weighing up the idea of striking first in combat and his cultural disposition towards what some would consider honourable conduct in battle. After a few seconds, he relented.

"I will contact the Ferocity. They will not fire unless attacked first."

"Thank you."

As the Haversham moved around Montak,, a distant speck flashed up on the viewscreen ahead of them. A holographic panel to Donnelly's left lit up as the image magnified, revealing the distinctive shape of a Covenant CRS-class light cruiser in orbit. Donnelly felt a sense of relief; it wasn't particularly dangerous as far as Covenant vessels went, though they would have to remain careful. "Lieutenant," he signalled Warren. "Any signals from the surface?"

Warren shook his head after a quick check. "Nothing. We won't be able to analyse the situation until we've disengaged, sir."

"Copy that. Open a COM line with that ship."

At this point, Donnelly was all but certain that they would be forced to engage. Many pirates were ex-Covenant military or lucky enough to have scavenged equipment from it, and often preferred to fight to the death to surrendering without a fight. Chances were that this ship had come here to pillage the groundside refineries or at worst, enslave the small populace. As they steadily approached minimum firing distance, Donnelly accessed the long-range COM and cleared his throat before activating it.

"Unidentified vessel, this is the UNSC Haversham. You are conducting illegal operations in occupied space and have been classified as a threat. Please stand down and surrender at once or we will be forced to open fire."

The Captain sat up straight in his chair as the message was transmitted and relayed not only in English, but in several Sangheili and Kig-Yar dialects for the pirates to hear. Over a minute passed with no response, save for the Haversham and its ally positioning themselves for what seemed like an inevitable confrontation. As Donnelly turned towards his weapons officer to fire a MAC round into the cruiser's bow, the COM crackled as a bold, authoritative voice filtered through.

"You trespass on our Imperium, and must pay the price."

For a few brief moments, not a single soul on the bridge moved, either out of uncertainty or confusion. At best, Donnelly had expected an actual surrender or some cry of defiance, not this ominous proclamation. He got to his feet and pointed towards the distant ship.

"Prepare MAC round. As soon as we've fired, the Ferocity can finish it off."

As the crew got back to their posts and the Destroyer shifted slightly, getting a proper trajectory on the distant cruiser, an alarm went up from several monitors. "Captain!" one of the officers called from across the room. "We're detecting numerous slipspace disturbances in-system!"

"Shit," he muttered. "Keep track of them!"

Donnelly dashed to a nearby holotable with a slightly bemused Goras at his heel and brought up an image of the local system.. Used to commanding from the bridge of a Sangheili vessel, the Shipmaster suddenly seemed very out of place while reduced to the role of a passive observer. Several red markers around Montak and its unnamed moons indicated a series of incoming ships about to emerge from slipspace.

"More Pirates?" Goras suggested. "If they are as weak as this vessel we should emerge victorious from this battle."

As Donnelly watched the readout, more and more signatures popped up. This wasn't the arrival of a few ships to back up a pirate vessel. This was an incoming fleet.

"We need to retreat," he turned to the Shipmaster. "Whatever's coming, we don't have the firepower to stop it."

The Sangheili bristled at this, but relented with a heavy sigh. For all his bluster, he wouldn't attempt to defy a Captain aboard his own ship. "I will contact the Ferocity."

As Goras picked up his disk-shaped communicator, yet another shrill alarm rang out from the console. Donnelly turned to see their local scanners completely overwhelmed, with a red marker completely covering everything within the Haversham's range. He sighed and returned to the front of the bridge.

"Looks like we're being jammed. Turn us around and-"

As he looked through the viewport, something occurred to Captain Donnelly: the stars had vanished. The endless sea of white pinpricks against the blackness of space was gone, replaced by an all-encompassing void. He stared blankly, one hand tugging the collar of his uniform as his eyes tried to make sense of what was going on. It took a few more seconds of confused gawking before realisation dawned on Donnelly. There was a ship above them.

He had been entirely mistaken when he assumed they were being jammed. The vessel that emerged from slipspace had simply been so large that it completely overwhelmed their scanners. As the last vestiges of particle reconciliation faded away into blue mist around the hull of the gargantuan ship, Donnelly could finally make out the tiny dots of light lining its underside, stretching far out of sight.

"By my ancestors," Goras breathed, now at Donnelly's side. "It's a Supercarrier."

Those assembled on the Haversham's bridge stood at their posts, stupefied by the sheer enormity of the ship looming above them. Numerous messages scrolled across the now-ignored console screens, warning of more slipspace ruptures as warship after warship emerged around Montak. Were it not for the shock and terror that now occupied the crew's hearts, they would have considered the fleet's arrival to be quite a breathtaking sight. Their reverie was only broken when a bright flash from the port-side viewport caught their attention. Donnelly's mouth hung open in horror as he saw the Ferocity utterly gutted by a single powerful plasma beam. We're next.

"We've got to go!" he shouted, snapping everyone else into action.

The Haversham turned sharply as its engines kicked into gear. It would be some time before they could safely jump to slipspace, but with their speed they might just make it. As they began to pull away, there was a sudden jolt as the entire ship shook, veering sharply to one side.

"Port fusion drive's been hit!" a nearby officer yelled from her station. "We can't maintain course!"

The Haversham shuddered again as Donnelly leant against the side of his chair, having almost been thrown to the floor after that first attack. The fact that they weren't already dead was surprising, and could only mean that this new foe wanted them as prisoners instead. He flipped a switch by his chair and activated the ship's intercom once again.

"All hands, prepare for boarders." As things currently stood, they had no way of escaping or overcoming the fleet that now surrounded them. However, this fleet hadn't vaporised them yet, meaning that they would be forced into a boarding action. Sure enough, several Phantom dropships whizzed past the Haversham's frontal viewport, likely circling round to gain access through the airlocks. Donnelly sighed.

"We'll have to surrender," he said sadly. "I'm not sacrificing my entire crew for the sake of a doomed last stand."

"What?!" Shipmaster Goras snarled, sending spittle flying everywhere. "Retreat is one thing, but I will not suffer captivity after they slaughtered my brethren!"

"Shipmaster!" Donnelly finally snapped. "You are aboard my ship, and I will not allow you to endanger my crew. Stand down."

Donelly's fierce gaze met a pair of determined yellow eyes. Though the Shipmaster could have easily killed him and most of the bridge crew without much effort, the Sangheili stood back and folded his arms once again, massively displeased but unwilling to attack his allies. Trudging over to the COM relay, Donnelly opened a public channel and began to broadcast.

"This is the UNSC Haversham. We surrender, and will not fight back as long as our lives are spared."

After sending the message, Donnelly could only stare at his highly-polished boots, unable to meet the faces of anyone else on his bridge. Their attackers were quick to respond.

"We understand. Do not resist and we will treat you fairly."

With that, all Donnelly and the other two hundred and forty members of the Haversham's crew had to do was wait and comply with orders. The Captain sat quietly in his chair, and said nothing when boarding parties sliced through escape pod access ports and landed small craft in the shuttle bay, pouring dozens of heavily-armed Sangheili soldiers into the vessel. The crew did as instructed, sitting unarmed as their captors rounded them up and escorted them away.

Soon enough, they arrived at the bridge.

Donnelly had moved by then, and stood alongside Goras and the dozen officers that made up his bridge staff as the heavy bulkhead doors slid open. Six Sangheili stepped forward, fully-armoured and wearing enclosed helmets. They spread out in a loose formation, not saying a word as they ensured that everyone in the room was accounted for. Goras began to twitch nervously, but otherwise said nothing as their guards stood to attention.

Donnelly stepped forward. "I'm the Captain of this vessel. To whom-"

"Keep still!" one of their captors barked, levelling his carbine threateningly. "He will be here soon."

The Captain knew better than to ask further questions, and withdrew into the gaggle of officers to await this mysterious individual. After a couple of minutes, four more warriors arrived, clad in intricate suits of silver armour that shone with strange symbols. They moved cautiously, and carried weapons of an exotic design that Connelly had never seen before. At their rear, in a dazzling suit of white and gold, was a tall Sangheili with a cape draped over his shoulders. He walked proudly across the Haversham's bridge, taking in every last detail before settling his gaze on the prisoners.

"Who is in charge here?" he demanded. It was the voice from the earlier transmissions.

Donnelly stepped forward, and saluted. "I'm Captain Reynald Donnelly of the UNSC Navy."

The Sangheili eyed him curiously, and nodded. "I am Imperial Admiral Toru 'Makhan of the Imperium of Clarity. You have unlawfully invaded our system today, Captain."

The what? Donnelly knew the name of just about every pirate group out there, so this faction were a complete unknown to him.

"Imperial Admiral," he said politely, "Montak is a mining colony under the jurisdiction of the Unified Earth Government. I'm afraid that your occupation will be met with force."

While Donnelly had a hard time reading the expression on a Sangheili's face, he could've sworn that the shining figure before him was smiling. Before he could reply, Goras sprang forward, unleashing his twin-pronged energy sword in a swift flourish as he made a mad dash towards Toru 'Makhan. The Imperial Admiral drew his own blade in an instant, igniting a blade made not of shaped plasma, but of hard light. It caught the Shipmaster's weapon with ease, and as he reeled back for a second blow, all four of Toru's bodyguards opened fire with their long rifles. As his eyes widened in surprise, Goras could only utter a single curse.

"Cowards!"

The Sangheili warrior roared as several beams of directed energy struck him, burning through shielding, armour, clothing and flesh in seconds. As he attempted to take another step forward, his body simply fell apart, disintegrating into wisps of white-hot ash before their very eyes. He swiftly vanished, leaving the ghost of his final, pained scream hanging in the air. Donnelly and his crew remained silent, to afraid to do anything but stare. The assembled soldiers quickly moved in, wordlessly lining the officers up to be escorted out of the ship. Deactivating his weapon, Toru 'Makhan caught Donnell's frightened gaze, and waved one hand in a grandiose gesture.

"Consider this my declaration of war."

1
"-and that is the last transmission we received."

As the lights in the meeting room brightened, a low murmur of conversation rose up among the assembled officers. For the last twenty minutes they had sat in complete silence, watching the surveillance footage and COM transmissions recovered from the UNSC Haversham's jettisoned black box and pieced together by Naval Intelligence's AI constructs. Less than twenty-four hours ago, a Winter-class prowler had entered the Montak system, recovered the badly-damaged device, and returned to Earth as quickly as possible.

All in all, it did not paint a pretty picture.

"Do we have an ID on that supercarrier?" a grey-haired General asked, glancing down at his datapad.

Across from him, a man in the dark uniform of a Naval officer stood up and cleared his throat. "Our initial reports suggest that it is the Watchful Custodian, belonging to one Toru 'Makhan. The transmission identifying the attackers as part of the 'Imperium of Clarity' confirms this."

"I can't say I'm aware of that group."

"Not many are, General Hogan." He looked towards man at the head of the table. "Fleet Admiral?" Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood slowly stood up, and all eyes in the room turned towards him with rapt attention. If the Chief of Naval Operations was here, then it meant that this was much more serious than a simple piracy operation gone wrong. Adjusting the collar of his distinctive white service uniform, Hood placed both hands behind his back before addressing his subordinates.

"Thank you, Vice Admiral Samson," Hood gestured towards the centre of the table, and a holographic display lit up. "The Imperium of Clarity is a Sangheili-led faction that appears to have formed on the edges of former Covenant space in the aftermath of the Great War. As their actions have been almost entirely outside of human space so far, there has been very little official contact with them until the attack two days ago."

"So they're another remnant group, then?" a young officer interjected, earning a few annoyed looks.

Hood shook his head. "No, not like the ones we've faced before. They were mostly mercenaries, nomadic fleets or terrorist groups. This 'Imperium' has infrastructure, a government, and a large civilian populace. In other words, it is being treated as a hostile government, not a group of extremists. As such, the decision has been made between the United Nations Space Command - with oversight from the civilian government - and envoys from the Swords of Sanghelios to launch an immediate military campaign to repel this invasion and neutralise the threat posed to us by the Imperium of Clarity. "

As Hood sat back down, the whispered conversations that had been ongoing during his briefing rose in volume as the room's occupants discussed the matter. A tall, middle-aged man with a weather-beaten face rose from his chair and saluted.

"Rear Admiral Hawkins," Hood nodded politely.

"Sir, am I to assume that we will be working alongside the Swords of Sanghelios during this campaign?"

"That is correct. Will that be an issue?"

"No sir, I was just curious about how the chain of command will operate."

"The Sangheili Fleet Master intends to work alongside us, but will not interfere with our military operations in any way."

"I see," Hawkins seemed satisfied, and sat down.

When it became clear that there were no further questions, Hood waved towards one of his aides at a nearby console. The holoprojector built into the meeting table lit up, and an array of miniature starships appeared alongside numerous charts projecting troop numbers and supply expenditures.

"Leading this operation will be the Sixth Fleet, comprised of eighty-four warships and twenty-two support vessels. Within forty-eight hours we intend to have it assembled over our rally point at New Syracuse, the closest suitable colony world to the Montak system. There, we will rendezvous with a fleet sent by the Swords of Sanghelios before launching our counter-attack into enemy territory."

Hood paused for a moment before gesturing to a woman at his left. "Admiral Lin Zhi has been chosen as the commanding officer for this campaign, with Rear Admiral John Hawkins acting as her Chief of Staff."

At this, Zhi rose and gave a firm salute to Hood before surveying the room. Though she had not said a single word since the meeting began, many knew of her reputation as a tough officer with an impressive combat record against the Covenant. Steely-eyed and straight-backed, she possessed a certain gravitas that gave off an intimidating aura far greater than that of the other venerable officers that towered over her.

"Thank you, Fleet Admiral," Zhi mirrored his earlier position, crossing her hands behind her back. "Like many of you, I am no stranger to fighting against Covenant - or former Covenant - warships, and am fully aware of the dangers a fleet will face. However, I assure you that I intend to end this war quickly and efficiently, without needlessly wasting the lives of the brave men and women fighting for us. While a proper offensive strategy has not yet been formulated, over the next two days I intend to-"

Zhi stopped abruptly as a hand shot up from across the table. It belonged to a young officer, dressed in a dark green uniform and matching beret. Eyeing a silver leaf on his collar, she raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Commander?"

To everyone's surprise, the man shot to his feet, snapping his boots together as he saluted the Admiral, who seemed more surprised than offended as he began to speak.

"Thank you, Admiral." He clasped his hands together, either unaware of or simply choosing to ignore Zhi's darkening expression. "My name is Commander Andrei Fosse, of the Naval Strategic Response Division, and I'm honoured to be a part of this campaign. As the NSRD were given access to the files from the Montak incident prior to this meeting, I have taken the liberty of formulating a strategy already, as I was asked."

"I wasn't aware of this," Zhi looked over to Hood, who seemed rather embarrassed.

"The decision must have been made very recently," the Fleet Admiral fixed Fosse with a withering stare. "And without my knowledge."

Fosse seemed completely unabashed by this as he replied. "My apologies, Fleet Admiral. As per an order passed and signed by both the Secretary of Defence and President of the UEG, the NSRD is to provide oversight in terms of force deployment and logistics in addition to ensuring that all interspecies cooperation is carried out without incident. This will also extend to negotiations with the enemy, should it come to that."

Zhi nodded in resigned acceptance. Arguing with bureaucrats was a fruitless endeavour. "Did you have a strategy in mind, Commander Fosse?"

"Of course."

Fosse connected his own datapad into the holotable, and the image in front of them quickly changed from logistic readouts to a mass of tiny holographic ships, representing the entirety of the Sixth Fleet and by the look of things, the Swords of Sanghelios Fleet.

"As you can see," Fosse pointed towards the lines of UNSC ships massed alongside their Sangheili counterparts. "By combining our speed and maneuverability with the firepower of our allies, we can easily overwhelm the enemy fleet with a strong formation and massed fire."

"What maneuverability?" Vice Admiral Hawkins spoke up, waving his hand through the flickering hologram. "That close, our ships will barely have room to evade without hitting our allies."

Fosse's smile never faltered. "That is why we must remain flexible in our strategy. Should we come under heavy fire, our Sangheili allies will advance to provide cover while our own fleet quickly reorganises into two groups. I'm sure that any competent Naval officer could manage it, even under pressure."

Vice Admiral Samson was next to interrupt. "And what if the enemy surrounds us, or is able to slip high-powered weaponry into our midst? I feel as though you are severely underestimating this group's capabilities."

"An excellent point from the head of the Prowler Corps," Fosse admitted with a childish shrug. "Of course, we will need to ensure that the field is ours by the time we engage the enemy in full-blown combat. With proper reconnaissance and proper calculations regarding enemy slipspace vectors, our fleet may be able to intercept and combat the enemy before they can formulate a proper response."

There was a long silence as all eyes in the room turned towards Hood, who had remained impassive throughout Fosse's speech. However, it was Zhi who answered first.

"Commander Fosse, what is your combat experience?"

"I served aboard the UNSC Holloway for five years, Admiral. We participated in numerous fleet actions against Kig-Yar and Jiralhanae pirates in the Joint Occupation Zone."

"And why is it that someone of your experience is devising plans of attack for an entire fleet?"

While Fosse's smile remained, there was an unmistakable flash of anger in his eyes. "With all due respect, the NSRD specialises in tactical simulation and threat analysis, and has been responsible for planning a number of very successful operations over the years. Were I not qualified for such a position, the Secretary of Defence would not have assigned me to this fleet. However, I fully understand that my strategies may conflict with your own methods. As such, we may discuss things further after moving to our forward command post."

Not a single person in the room would have blamed Zhi for exploding with rage then and there, and few would have intervened if she had leapt across the table and started beating him to death. Instead, she simply closed her eyes for a moment and sat down, her voice completely level.

"I see. I have no further questions."

Hood leaned forward, and motioned for Fosse to sit down. "Thank you, Commander. Now, let's wrap this up so we can proceed."

***

The meeting lasted for another unnecessary half-hour before Hood brought it to an end. Most of that time had been dominated by Fosse's assurances that he had planned for all contingencies and a brief disagreement on how best to deploy Special Forces personnel on the ground; units were being brought in from several divisions to augment their sizeable Marine contingent, alongside a number of private contractors. Putting it lightly, personnel organisation was a mess right now.

"I'm sorry about that, Admiral," Hood pinched the bridge of his nose shortly after the last officer had departed. "I didn't think they'd ambush us with someone like Fosse."

"It's not your fault, sir," Zhi unscrewed a bottle of water. "It's politics."

Hood sighed. "Politics." He spat the word out like a curse. "When I dismantled many of our emergency powers after the war ended, I was hoping for a return to normalcy. Instead we've got just as much infighting and nepotism as ever."

"You think Fosse has connections?"

"I think he's the kind of man who knows how to butter people up to cover up his own weaknesses. When someone like that gains the favour of an elected official, they can cause a lot of damage."

Zhi took a long draught from her bottle, and exhaled. "Do you think he'll force us to go ahead with this ridiculous plan? He doesn't seem the type to lead from the front."

"No, but he'll try to claim credit for any victories along the way; regardless of how many lives we lose, if we beat this Imperium, he'll want the glory."

The Admiral drummed her fingers on the tabletop. "Can't you do anything about him, sir?"

To her surprise, Hood gave a weary smile. "Admiral, I've already had to fight tooth-and-nail to prevent the civilian government from officially declaring war on the Imperium of Clarity. Having the Secretary of Defence assign an idiot to this fleet's command staff was the price we paid for it."

"Wouldn't we get a lot more support if it were an official declaration of war?" she asked.

"Yes and no. For one, we'd have to deal with a good portion of the senate opposing this action, partly on principle and partly because this Imperium isn't anywhere as big a threat to us as the Covenant was. Even with all the threats aimed at Earth in these last few years, some of the politicians are starting to regain the feeling that we're on top of the galaxy again. On the other hand, declaring war would mean that we could send in several fleets, including the UNSC Infinity." "That would've been a great help," Zhi admitted. "Still, I'm fairly confident. So long as Fosse stays out of our way and I can change his plan enough so we don't all die for nothing and the Sangheili are willing to cooperate, we might be able to push through to the enemy capital within weeks."

"That's the spirit," Hood got to his feet, moving a little stiffly. Zhi watched him with curiosity; the venerable Fleet Admiral had been badly injured in an attack earlier this year, and though he had recovered, there was a lot of talk among the Admiralty that he intended to retire soon. Perhaps if this campaign was successful, she would have his position within a year.

"New Syracuse is a long way from home," Zhi said as the two made their way out of the meeting room. "It's been a long while since I've been part of a fleet as large as this."

"We don't have to mobilise as much these days, thankfully." Hood scratched the back of his bald head, scraping over his neural interface. "I'd offer to come with you, but I'm afraid I have to hold down the fort here. Deal with the politicians."

"Good luck with that, sir," Zhi saluted Hood. "I've only got to win a war."

"Lucky you. Come back alive, Admiral."

With that, the pair turned and went their separate ways. It would take the better part of a day to reach New Syracuse from here, and even longer for the entire fleet to arrive. Aside from dealing with Fosse, Admiral Lin Zhi would have not only lead the successful recapture of Montak, but follow it up with the invasion of one or more enemy-controlled systems. It was quite the task, and one that would reward her handsomely if they were successful.

"Admiral!" Hood turned and called down the corridor as Zhi walked off. "I've sent you a dossier on your counterpart within the Swords of Sanghelios. His name is Felo 'Ranak!"

2
A hush fell over the high-ceilinged meeting hall as a pair of heavy doors swung open on the landing above. The crowd below, a sea of bright-armoured Sangheili officers in their finest ceremonial armour, looked upwards in union as Imperial Admiral Toru 'Makhan emerged, clad in his usual ornate harness. He stood at the top of a long flight of stairs, surveying his subordinates with a stern visage before he began to descend, flanked by a pair of staff-wielding bodyguards.

In person, Toru 'Makhan did match up to the larger-than-life figure whose exploits were known across a hundred worlds. Though tall by Sangheili standards, he possessed neither the impressive physique or commanding aura that so many legendary heroes had. Nonetheless, as he crossed the hall and approached the dais where his throne sat, all knelt before him, bowing their heads to the man who had founded their Imperium as the old Covenant collapsed. Toru 'Makhan had saved them all. Toru Makhan had made them strong. Now, Toru 'Makhan would lead them to war. The Imperial Admiral reached his throne; a high-backed chair of sleek silver metal inlaid with golden inscriptions. As he sat down, it thrummed slightly as it rose a few inches off the ground, giving the Sangheili more than enough height to peer over the heads of everyone present. His finger slipped to a button beneath one of the armrests, and a dozen speakers flared to life, magnifying his words tenfold.

"My loyal commanders," Toru's voice boomed as he waved an arm towards the crowd. "Today I greet you not only as your leader, but as a grateful friend."

Most had raised their heads by now, but this forced even the most reverent of followers to look towards Toru.

"For years, we have fought to build our Imperium. We have fought to make it safe, to grow and expand, and to protect it from threats both outside and from within. Each commander has proven himself a hundred times over, and in the coming cycles you will have the chance to do many times over."

Toru paused, half-expecting a roar of approval. Instead, all eyes remained on him. He eased himself back a little in his throne, and continued.

"As most of you are aware, the first blow has already been struck against our foes. Jealous of our might and fearful of our Imperium's expansion, both the Arbiter's forces and the human military attempted to claim our latest acquisition: Montak. Were it not for the quick actions of our fleet, they might have caused damage to our colonisation efforts on the surface. Instead, we took them quickly, and without loss."

This time, a ragged cheer went up from a few Shipmasters, likely those who had been present for the incident.

"By doing this, my brothers, our Imperium has only hastened a long-awaited war. This will not be as simple as rooting out pirates and raiders that dare infest our borders, nor will it involve the conversion of unenlightened warbands to our cause. This will be a conflict the likes of which has not been seen since the Covenant's Great War!"

As more shouts drifted over the crowd, Toru rose to his feet, clenching his fists as his speech intensified.

"So now, my warriors, we embark on our greatest campaign! Fight for your Imperium! Fight for your homes! Fight for your very existence!"

At this, over a hundred voices cried out in union, heavy boots stamping against the tiled floor while a sea of fists pumped the air with violent energy. The Imperial Admiral stepped forward, and his eager soldiers parted immediately. As he walked by, a shining white-gold leader amidst a multi-hued sea of, frenzied warriors, they began to chant his name.

"Makhan! Mahkan! Mahkan!"

"Hail to the Imperium! Hail to the Imperial Admiral!"

"To war!"

Moving with surprising grace, Toru 'Makhan ascended the stairs once more, treading lightly along a long violet carpet. As he stepped across the threshold into the adjacent chamber, he gave a final wave to the cheering mass below until the door slid shut.

That's enough ceremony.

Save for his bodyguards, he was now completely alone. Toru listened to the muted shouting for a moment more, savouring it for a few brief seconds before he set off at a brisk pace down the corridor. His speech had been short and to the point: they were at war. Another door opened ahead of him, and he stepped out onto an open bridge connecting two wings of his palace. As he walked, he looked out over the sprawling city below, bright and cheerful under the midday sun. There was a time when he would have sat and enjoyed the view in his free time, but alas, he had very little to spare these days. Approaching a tower at the edge of the bridge, Toru turned to his nearest protector.

"Has my High Command been arrived, Muri?"

The silver-plated figure next to him nodded. "Yes, excellency. They should already be waiting for you."

"Good. My thanks."

Toru continued his journey in silence, entering the western tower. Unlike the main body of the palace, which boasted room after room dedicated to entertainment, living, and governance, this area was Toru 'Makhan's private domain. The sleek metal walls, built to resemble a warship's interior, were dotted with artwork bought, discovered or plundered from the far reaches of the galaxy. Paintings of alien landscapes lined the massive spiralling stairwell, while one floor had quite the collection of sculptures.

"Muri?"

His bodyguard snapped to attention. "Yes, excellency?"

"Remind me to continue my notes on that Jiralhanae relief later. I would like them finished before we set out."

"I will," she bowed her head respectfully.

While he took the time to remember the names of every member of the Imperial Guards, Toru had grown rather fond of Muri 'Jarit since she had joined their ranks. Not only was she a living example of the success of his decree allowing females to serve openly in the military - one that had provoked some grumbling in many of his existing warriors - she had proven herself not only as a fine warrior, but someone who did not embody the ridiculous stoicism he had seem practised in many Honour Guardsmen over the decades. Perhaps, he thought, She will stand among my High Command one day.

Eventually they came to the topmost floor, where Toru's personal meeting chambers lay. Muri and the other guardsman, Hui, pushed them open themselves. Despite the high-tech systems surrounding the palace, the Imperial Admiral had neglected to install gravity lifts on the upper levels, forcing any visitor to climb to the top themselves. It was a bit of fancy on Toru's part to mirror his own struggle to the top, though the thought was lost on most people. Dominating the room was a long table of carved wood; an antique sourced from Sanghelios itself. Around it stood the six most powerful individuals within the Imperium of Clarity, second only to Toru.

"Imperial Admiral!" called a Sangheili in burnished golden armour, alerting the others to his presence.

"My brothers!" Toru spread his arms as he approached the table, looking at each of them in turn. "It has been far too long since we convened."

"Not since we dealt with Rukarun's pack," a heavily-scarred, gruff-voiced Unggoy laughed from his seat across the table. "And what a chase that was!"

Toru chuckled, taking his seat at the head of the table. The sole representative of his race on the High Command, Shipmaster Hedan Koti might have held the lowest rank of those in this room, but he more than made up for it with his sheer tenacity and willingness to speak the truth. His massive sway over the Imperium's Unggoy populace arguably made him one of the more politically powerful individuals in the room, but he kept that to himself.

"For you and Fleet Master 'Larom, perhaps," he gestured to the warrior in gold who had greeted him. "We simply lay in wait and spring our trap when the time was right."

That got a snort of mirth from Orro 'Hendai, an older Sangheili sat at the very end of the table. Catching Toru's eye, he turned to face him.

"Chasing Jir'a'ul pirates is naught but sport, your excellency. I have heard that you have started a war."

This was as much an accusation as it was a question from the eager old Field Marshall, who was good for naught but battle and knew it well. Toru leaned over the table, clasping his hands together.

"Indeed I have, 'Hendai. Do you wish to be unleashed?"

"Always," the warrior clenched his leathery fists. "You need only ask, and my Legion would spill a sea of blood in your name."

"They shall."

Toru knew that this was more than mere flattery on his part. When he had recruited Hendai into his Imperium, the warrior had been leading a force of thousands on a barely-disguised rampage across the swathes of now-lawless space in former Covenant territories. All it had taken was the promise of true purpose to turn him into a loyal commander.

"Your excellency," Fleet Master Nor 'Hudon spoke, sitting directly across from his blood brother, Zetal. "Is this a defensive war, or are we launching an invasion?"

"Both." Always thinking of the people. "I have been informed of an impending attack on our newest acquisition. We will have to defend it, then strike back."

"The mining colony?"

"Indeed. Our negotiation with those human merchants helped us secure it bloodlessly, though it saw reprisal from a warship of both their military, and one from the Swords of Sanghelios. Both were destroyed, but more will come to invade our territory."

The mention of the Arbiter's forces had a notable effect on those at the table. Everyone here had fought in the war against the humans on some level, and would likely have little trouble fighting their forces again. However, to fight the Swords of Sanghelios would pit brother against brother on a larger scale than many were comfortable with. While that particular alliance had maintained open diplomacy with the Imperium before, Toru and his followers had refused to bow to their leader, or anyone else. To the Imperial Admiral, they were barely an improvement on the dozens of factions all claiming to be the Covenant's true successors.

To Toru's left, a younger warrior in dark armour looked to him thoughtfully. "Have we considered diplomacy?"

"Weakness!" Orro 'Hendai thumped his fist against the table, but was ignored.

"You seem concerned, Fleet Master 'Deris." Toru said calmly. "Blood has been spilled. They will not turn back."

The immense finality in his words made Lora 'Deris shrink back a little. The look of worry slowly eased off his face as he gave a long sigh. "Then we must meet them head on."

A murmur of assent drifted round the meeting table. The Imperium of Clarity were going to war at full force. Against the great galactic powers, they would see victory or certain death in this conflict. Hedan Koti stood up in his chair, now level with the rest of the seated Sangheili.

"I will gather my troops, leader," he rapped a his arms against his chest before crying out in a wheezy voice. "For the Imperium!"

"For the Imperium!" the Sangheili, Toru included, echoed his words. What the Unggoy lacked in size, he more than made up for in spirit.

Toru stood up, feeling energised, even excited. "Gather your fleets over Frendhal! We have little time to waste!"

With that, the Imperium of Clarity's High Command stood up, bowing to their undisputed leader. Toru chose to address each of them in turn.

"Orro, keep your warriors sharp and ready. They will have their fill soon enough."

The old warrior bared his teeth in a triumphant cheer.

"Nor, Zetal, your speed and talent are unmatched. Win together."

Both brothers thanked Toru simultaneously before sinking perfectly synchronised bows.

"Koti, you and your people are the backbone of our Imperium. Do not falter."

Shipmaster Hedan gave an embarrassed shrug. Toru was sure that it meant "I'll do my best."

"'Kan 'Larom, you are a taskmaster without compare. May you keep our hirelings as organised as your own fleet."

"Loyalty through obedience," he replied simply. It was his personal mantra.

Lastly, Toru turned towards Lora 'Deris, whose eyes shone at the accolades being heaped onto his comrades. The Imperial Admiral grasped his shoulder, feeling an unusual sense of pride.

"I have heard it said that every warrior has his own war," he looked around at the assembled veterans, "That is how they build their legend. This is your war, Lora 'Deris. Use it well."

At once, the grateful fleet master sank to one knee, his face almost touching the ground. Unlike the others, he had no great accomplishments from the last war; no mighty war stories or scars to show. Such was the tragic tale of a warrior on the frontier. He had done everything to earn his position at Toru 'Makhan's side in the last decade, and wanted nothing more than to prove his worth to the Imperial Admiral.

"You are too kind," he mumbled, picking himself up eventually.

Toru 'Mahkan did not respond, and instead turned to the windows that lined the command room as a shadow fell over the capital city. He walked to the window, and peered out as the shape of a tremendously starship drifted overhead. Small shuttlecraft zipped around it like insects on the body of a great beast, and cheers could be heard from below as the civilian populace looked up in joy. Right on time.

This was Toru's ship. The Watchful Custodian. Saviour of the far-flung colonies, cleanser of pirates, and the mightiest vessel in the Imperium of Clarity. Once a parting gift from a treacherous Prophet prior to his exile onto the frontier, Toru recalled standing on its command deck, looking down at the settlement that would be the basis for his personal fortress, and the civilisation that he had built around it. Very soon, it would see battle once again.

3
This was taking longer than he’d hoped.

Tied to the chair at the center of the dimly lit room, Jerrod Fletcher stared up Joseph, eyes gleaming with a grim satisfaction as blood trickled down his busted lip. “No one is coming for you. No one knows you’re here.” Kovacs sighed, crouching down to the captive operative’s level.

“Don’t matter.” Grumbled the battered man, flashing a smile of blood stained teeth up at his captor. Fletcher was a hard man, a little too erratic for BRUTUS, but dangerous all the same. It hadn’t been easy to bring him down, but with a little observation he’d been able to capitalize on his particular vices and nab him.

Paying off the prostitute had cost him more than a few credits though, he could only hope what he got from the triggerman would be worth it.

“Of course it matters, you’re not a patriot Jerrod, you do this cause it pays well. Why bother holding out?” He’d been relegated to playing good cop, Hargrove’s PISCES and general manner made him better suited for the opposite role anyway, but Joseph wasn’t happy about it.

“I’ll let you go, no questions asked, just tell me where I can find BLUE JAY.”

The killer spit blood onto him, letting out a giddy snicker. “He knows ‘ya ‘comin for ‘im, this ain’t so simple as ‘fightin innies.” Kovacs wiped the blood away, expression deadpan as the two locked eyes.

“Just cause you don’t got no family don’t mean he can’t hurt you Joey boy.” So he knew who he was, they’d never identified themselves which meant that Fletcher wasn’t bluffing, BLUE JAY had been clued in to the ex-commandos hot on his trail. Good, that meant they’d send more agents to interrogate their way, get them closer to him.

And by extension closer to CALIFORNIA.

“I appreciate the concern, but that’s for me to worry about.” Kovacs shrugged. “All I need is you to tell me where to find him.”

He laughed, almost madly, eyes wild. Something was off.

“You and I ain’t Earthers, so maybe you won’t gettit, but on Earth when November comes, winta comes wit it,” The ONI operative snickered. “Winta comes, and everything shrivels up, the world’s quiet.” Fletcher smiled.

“I know how winter works Jerrod.”

“Good good. Moral of the story is, when November comes, an’ he will, everything dies.” The last words hung in the air, his inane mockery suddenly turning deadly serious. Something moved in his mouth, and Joseph realized what it was too late, hands shooting towards Jerrod’s jaws as the pill was crushed between his teeth.

In the past he might’ve been able to stop it, but the 26th century had made suicide pills all the more fast acting. Looking deep into Joseph’s eyes, the assassin looked onto him with something akin to sympathy.

“Stay warm Joseph.” He muttered as foam spilled from his lips and his body went limp.

Kovacs sat back into the simple wooden chair he’d set across from his captive and sighed. A dead end, an ominous threat, and an agent who’d taken their life rather than divulge any information despite it being against everything in their character. They really were knee deep in ONI’s shit.

“What the fuck?!” Boomed a voice from over his shoulder, modulated by the helmet he still needlessly wore. Hargrove. The two of them had similar stories, even if they were seperated by decades in occurance, street rats who’d become heads of ONI black ops teams, and eventually ended up as enemies of the enigmatic organization. There were a few differences, Kovacs was an ORION, Hargove the bastard of a criminal industrialist, but the core details were more or less the same.

It didn’t mean they got along all that well though.

“What the hell? Why didn’t you fucking check him?” Roared the power armor clad mercenary, fists balled at his sides as he strode towards the corpse and callously yanked it from the chair.

“Because the man was obsessed with himself, didn’t think he’d up and off himself over a paycheck. Not to mention you had him first.” Joseph retorted, looking down on the corpse as he went for a cigarette. The two had gone at it over nearly anything when they’d first partnered up, but now both prefered to simply let it go, focus on the task at hand rather than argue over the past.

“You have news for me, or you just here to gawk?” Kovacs asked, placing the rolled paper between his teeth and flicking open a lighter, eyes laying over the corpse on the floor, foam still rising from the dead man’s maw. In a single motion, the silver box sparked a flame which he raised to the tip of the cigarette and lighting it.

“Yeah, smoking kills.” Hargrove’s irritation with the habit was more amusing than anything, but his constant jabs were getting more and more irksome by the day. The two needed to be out in the field and fast, that way they could focus on something besides their pet peeves with one another. “Also, there’s a new hotbed in the galaxy. Some remnant group pissed off the UNSC bad, even offered us a job with ‘em.”

That raised an eyebrow. As he puffed on the cigarette between, Kovacs looked up at William with bewilderment. The idea of a remnant group using humans wasn’t a new one oddly enough, but the two of them had seemingly shared the view that their war was with the Office, not the UNSC as a whole. They weren’t going to fight marines.

“Relax, I’m as against working for splits as you. Just convinced the guy I wasn’t enough that I got an idea where things are about to go down, and some clues about who we might be working with on their side.”

“And?” Kovacs asked as his partner handed him a datapad, details of the incident in the Montak system running across the display.

“They didn’t give away much, sounded like they might have a demon though.” Joseph couldn’t see beneath the helmet covering Hargove’s visage, but he knew that a smug smirk was on his face. Augmented forces in opposition to the UNSC often caught CALIFORNIA’s attention quicker than anything, usually he’d sic MAGICIAN on it, but if what he was reading was true, this incident might have warranted the attention of the man himself. Or at least the deployment of his assets.

Which could lead them to him by extension.

Puffing out smoke, Kovacs nodded, scrolling through the details with a flick of his finger. “Guess we should get in system.” The former private investigator mumbled past the cigarette.

“I know a guy, got a quiet ship, not to mention some gear for you.” Hargrove chuckled, looking down to his trench coat-clad partner. “Can’t fight a war lookin like that.

User:Spartan-D042 screw this sig stuff 05:07, July 12, 2018 (UTC)

4
The transfer from Infinity to Maya had been abrupt and with little explanation, but Jacob had been in this life long enough to not question things. He hadn’t questioned where the rest of Macuhuitl besides his sniper had been sent, he hadn’t questioned why his team leader shared the same last name and home world as himself, he hadn’t questioned why the team had remained in its current organization after it was revealed said team-leader and earlier generation child soldier was in fact his elder brother, and he hadn’t questioned it when the man refused to so much as speak to him on the subject, so why would he bother questioning a simple transfer?

“He say anything to you?” Questioned a voice over a private communications line, looking back over his shoulder at the formerly mentioned sniper and gave a simple shake of his head ‘no’ as the two followed after the other half of Stallion down the ramp of the dropship that had ferried them over.

Rodger was trying to help, G050, or Spartan Menteith, had always been able to read him and the others like a book even behind layers of titanium alloy. To this day he wondered why the marksman who had leadership in his blood hadn’t been entrusted with command of their little family, but true to his character Rodger only assured him and kept him focused.

He could see Jacob was more than a little put off by the recent revelations as clearly as he saw targets downrange. But for once he just wanted his friend to stop.

Stepping off the ramp, G043’s EOD helmet turned towards his elder brother expectantly as the four soldiers stood quietly in the chaotic hangar of a vessel soon to be bound for war. “Now what?” He inquired as the elder Spartan stood utterly silent, seemingly sweeping the hangar for any visual threats.

“Report in with handler, Spartan Flores.” Came Cody’s response after he seemingly finished his observation, voice devoid of any kind of emotion as always as he raised a hand and motioned for the fireteam to follow as the Beta Company Spartan led the way towards the nearest exit.

Sailors parted like the seas the once sailed to allow the titans through, even with the Spartan Branch churning out more of their kind than ever, seeing them for the first time was still something most UNSC servicemembers looked forward to with incredible anticipation. Outside of some special forces outfits, they were seen as heroes who had saved humanity, even if most of those they saw were only human when the time for that came.

Rodger, Jacob, and Cody were indifferent to the whole ordeal. Threes still didn’t publically exist, and a lifetime of training for and fighting in war had left things like the concept of fame worthless to most of them. Cadmon Dawes, the odd man out in their unit, didn’t share their disinterest. He said they were good for morale, told them how he’d seen entire battalions rallied by the mere presence of a Spartan to fight against nigh impossible odds. Jacob never knew if he was exaggerating or not, but he seemed genuine enough.

Dawes shook hands as they passed through gave salutes, even stopped for a picture with a few fresh-faced crewman as the team made their way from the hangar into the halls of the vessel. Jacob didn’t understand, the whole ordeal seemed like something Mendez would’ve had him running sprints into the next morning for, but from what he understood the behavior was encouraged among the fours.

“Making friends?” Rodger asked, looking over to their comrade clad in gray and blue CINDER armor. The gear, if one knew what it was meant for, was the only true indication that Dawes was more than a simple morale booster. Configured specifically for action against the Flood, the armor marked the former paratrooper as one of the few who had faced off against the vicious parasite and won.

“Maybe, mainly just trying to keep their heads up. Whatever we’re heading into is bound to be serious judging by the battlegroup amassing. Lot of ‘em seem new.” Dawes responded with a shrug. “But if I make a few friends, no harm done. I teach my tykes it never hurts to be kind, gotta practice what I preach.” The Spartan added.

More than anything, the fact that Dawes had children of his own was what alarmed Jacob. Before he’d met him he’d never even thought that the newer generation had families and homes to call their own, people who eagerly awaited their return every time they shipped out. The idea itself was more alien to him than any of the ex-Covenant species.

He’d invited them all to meet his family after Requiem and New Phoenix, naturally Cody had refused, but Rodger had convinced Jacob to come along. There he’d tasted, saw, and hear things he never could’ve imagined. Before Gamma he’d lived in one orphanage after another, the family dynamic, and all the little nuances of normal life were completely new to him.

As strange as the experience had been, it had been almost liberating in a way, even though ONI no doubt was monitoring them every second of their shore leave, it marked the first time Jacob had even thought of a life free of their grasp, and the first time he wondered if they’d made the right call staying in the service.

Serving the UNSC still was the only thing he knew how to do, and without it he still had no idea what he could make of himself, but at least he knew somewhat what life would be like when there was no war to fight. Still, that life wasn’t for him now, and possibly not ever.

“They’re kind alright, kind of wild.” Rodger joked, to which Dawes let out a simple laugh and shrugged, unable to say anything in the defense of his hyperactive seven and four year old. Jacob tuned out the rest of their conversation and turned his eyes to his brother as the team stepped into an elevator. The Beta was rigid, even inside the elevator, little turns of his head clued in the observant that he was on high alert. Even in the belly of a UNSC vessel, in the heart of human space, Spartan-B042 kept his guard up.

As the floor lurched beneath them, Jacob tried to understand what had befallen his brother. He knew what TORPEDO had done to Lucy, but she had barely escaped whatever ONI did with Spartans deemed unstable because of Commander Ambrose’s intervention, and Jacob knew the Commander wouldn’t have just left his brother behind, not to mention his sibling had paid Onyx a visit once during Gamma’s training. Pegasi hadn’t been the breaking point for Cody, whatever had left him how he was had come after.

Jacob had tried digging into his dossier, but the black ink on his file was heavier than usual for a three, and he knew better than to waste his time asking. But the question, unlike all the others, ate at him. He wanted to know why his brother had become this, he needed to understand, lest he end up the same way.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors slid open, on the other side stood another Spartan, he dark hair tied up in accordance with regulations, and look of fierce determination in her eye. This had to be Flores he assumed, the look on her face practically screamed ‘I’ve been waiting’.

“Stallion, pleasure to meet you all, I’m Spartan Adalia Flores. If you’ll follow me, we can get you all up to speed, we can get acquainted later.” None of them said a word in protest, and Cody simply gave her a curt nod. Turning, their handler motioned for them to follow as she moved down the hall, and so they did. User:Spartan-D042 screw this sig stuff 05:07, July 12, 2018 (UTC)

6
Grono 'Yendam steered the Phantom towards his location, an Imperium-held planet named Frendhal. From what the limited information that his partner could gleam was, it was a large fortress world used by the Imperium to stock and build up their forces. It was in the Yain System, one of the major locations in the so-called Imperium of Clarity. From what he knew, The Imperium was a newly-emerged Covenant Remnant with a military strong enough to rival that of the late Jul 'Mdama's faction, possibly even win. Just the thought of that tempted 'Yendam to join the Imperium permanently, but he knew from experience as one of Jul's most high Zealots that every faction would fall one day. Let's just hope this one falls much later.

Grono stood up from his seat and put the dropship on autopilot, before entering the hold, where his Ancilla partner in crime was. As Grono stepped in, the Artificial Intelligence, 589 Curious Puzzle, turned around to greet the Sangheili with his cycloptic eye. "Greetings, Grono 'Yendam. I assume that you shall prepare to meet this Imperium on the surface?"

"Yes," Grono nodded and retrieved his concussion rifle from a small but prized assortment. The mercenary then took two handfuls of plasma grenades to put in his stock pouch, before resting his hand on Varmint's Nail, his esteemed energy sword that he had taken in succession when he first forced his way into power. It had been passed down from a long legacy of Shipmasters, belonging to the valiant commander Sorv 'Tunostee before he was slaughtered by the Jiralhanae. It was now 'Yendam's, and he had used it to slay a multitude of enemies during the aftermath of the Great War.

Grono took hold of the hilt and held it outward, activating the superheated plasma to shape into the form of a blade. This one was unique though, having a large legacy and a powerful, vibrant glow to it. Grono looked down across the side of the shaped energy, admiring its acidic green color. Puzzle turned his eye towards it, and Grono watched as the monitor examined Varmint's Nail. The Sangheili eventually deactivated the blade, and the Phantom finally landed.

"Finally. Come, Puzzle. We have Sangheili from the Imperium of Clarity to meet," Said Grono as he exited the hull, where he could see an odd array of many ships with a unique collection of species, all here for the same purpose; Mercenary work.

"Shut it immediately! We cannot reveal my presence here!"

Puzzle hurriedly linked his core with the Phantom's systems, shutting the hatch and locking Grono 'Yendam in. "What is the meaning of this, Puzzle?"

Puzzle stared at Grono blankly. "Oh my, my old age must be setting in, if I haven't informed you yet. This Imperium of Clarity has a monopolization on all devices and artifacts made by my creators, which includes me! If they find out that you are in alliance with a Forerunner Ancilla, they would capture me and use me for sure! This Imperium is very unlike most other remnants. For one, its sizable military and economy, and its network. It's unlike anything I've seen since my reawakening. Either the Imperium has improved on the former Covenant's technology, or something else is at play here. Either way it's put, I must remain here, lest they take me away."

Grono sighed, taking in all this information. "Very well then. But you shall support me if I am in need, correct?"

"Yes. I should be able to find a way around this network."

'Yendam nodded in content, and opened the hatch once Puzzle was hidden. After he had stepped out, the hatch closed, and the mercenary started out among the crowd to find someone who could tell him who he would serve under. ''It will be just like the glory days, fighting under the command of Oru 'Vanuxee. Until he abandoned me. But that is in the past now. We have put aside our differences.''

He finally found one, and approached them, noting their Assault harness used by former Covenant operatives. It was of bland grey color, having almost no resemblance to the Covenant Empire's flagging colors. So far all the Imperium armors and and technologies seemed to range in the white and grey color schemes, unlike the purple and violet ones of the Empire. All this aside, 'Yendam approached the soldier.

"Greetings, soldier of the Imperium. If I may ask a question of you, could you tell me who our commander will be during this campaign?"

The Sangheili looked at him dully, clearly not excited with the prospect of overlooking mercenaries. "The one leading us shall be Fleet Master Kan 'Larom."

"Thank you," replied Grono, looking down on the soldier. He departed, and continued to walk on. ''It seems like these soldiers aren't too fond of mercenaries. Is the Imperium as high and stuck up as our Covenant predecessors? If so, that Imperial Admiral Toru 'Mahkan must be snobbish. But I've dealt with the upper class many times before. It will be a tolerable nuisance.''