Vadam Legacies: The Rift



Plot
It is the year 2559. The Sangheili have long since split from the Covenant and allied with the humans prior to the end of the UNSC-Covenant War, finding victory soon after.

Not all Sangheili are in agreement to this truce. Many separated from the military for widespread protests of their actions. Conflict arises upon their homeworld, Sanghelios.

Many shocking surprises follow. Their leader is relative to one of the Sangheili's greatest warriors, and in one swift move, he has changed their history forever. And the consequences that come may mark the end of the Sangheili's hard-earned trust in the humans...

Covenant

 * Autel 'Vadam
 * Taszar 'Vadam
 * Cyla 'Cazal
 * Fira 'Demal
 * Sona 'Demal
 * Isto 'Vadum
 * Zehr'tul 'Sumai

UNSC

 * SPARTAN-116
 * Ezekiel
 * Joey-G148
 * Sara-G134
 * Dennis-G102
 * Crystal-G072
 * Jack-G067
 * Aqil Hafsa
 * Rafael Esquival

Covenant

 * Thel 'Vadam
 * Rtas 'Vadum

UNSC

 * John-117
 * Frederic-104
 * Kelly-087
 * Linda-058
 * Jai-006
 * Adriana-111
 * Mike
 * Tom-B292
 * Lucy-B091
 * Ash-G099
 * Olivia
 * Mark
 * Cortana

Chapter 1
'''TIME 16:22:37:09 (ACCURACY 1/10 to that of Forerunner), TENTH SUNRISE SHIFT OF THE FIFTH MONTH (SANGHELIOS TIME UNIT), 4TH AGE OF AMENDMENT (COVENANT TIME UNIT, BASED ON FORERUNNER TIME UNIT), STATE OF PYRON, SANGHELIOS

0800 HOURS, FEBRUARY 22ND, 2559 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)

Sangheili Minor Taszar 'Vadam moved quickly, evading the energy bolts that flew past him. He retaliated by firing his Plasma Rifle at his opponent, following up by cracking his weapon over his head. The assailant crumpled.

For six years, this had been happening. Many Sangheili had objected openly to their truce with the humans, and a war erupted on Sanghelios. The protestors were unusually well-organized, and friends turned unexpectedly on each other. The conflicts were long and bloody. But that did not bother Taszar unduly. Killing another Sangheili was the same as any other foe, if there was a good reason.

Taszar swore as he saw more Sangheili Fallen charging him. Where were those reinforcements that were supposed to be here? He couldn't take them all on his own. Opening fire, he cut down three of the four Sangheili, never remaining in one spot. As he turned to the last separatist, firing rapidly, his Plasma Rifle overheated and vented blue steam.

Taszar dropped the rifle, preparing to deal with the separatist with his own hands. Suddenly the assailant screamed and jerked upward. Two energy bars appeared in his chest. The Fallen fell (Taszar smiled at the irony), and another Sangheili appeared out of the air. It was his friend, Zehr'tul 'Sumai.

"The reinforcements are almost here," he said, handing Taszar his rifle back. "Something shot their dropship down."

The Fallen were becoming increasingly resourceful, and their threat was heavier than ever. This war had to end soon.

"We should meet them," Zehr'tul said, turning around. "Let us deal with the rest of them, so this would be over."

Over? Taszar thought, following his friend. Were it so easy.

Autel 'Vadam entered the keep, carefully cradling the bundles in his arms. Walking up to the fourth level, he easily found her room.

"Autel?" a voice called. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Cyla," he replied. "I have returned." He handed the bundles over to her, and wiped the perspiration off his face.

Cyla sat up in bed, leaning against the wall. "Was there any trouble?" she asked, unwrapping the bundles, and looking at it.

"No. No one ventures here, and there is not much they would want from us." Autel stiffened as he heard the sound of the main door opening and closing. Drawing a plasma pistol, he said, "Remain here."

The Vadam Keep was emptier than usual, because a lot of the soldiers were fighting the separatists, and the younglings and elderly were kept out of danger. It could be a Vadam returning from the State, but these days, it never hurt to be careful.

Autel silently padded down the stairs, pistol ready, but relaxed when he saw who it was. An exhausted-looking Sangheili was making his way towards the stairs. He wore a grey-coloured armour, with ancient symbols and patterns etched upon it. It was the Arbiter, Thel 'Vadam.

"How was your day, father?" Autel asked.

"Not good," Thel replied wearily. "The Fallen are causing more trouble, and I am not sure we can keep them down much longer." Thel had taken a political position on Sanghelios, and was trying to negotiate terms with the separatists.

"What about their leader?" Autel said, as they made their way up the stairs.

"We still do not know who it is. He refuses to meet directly." Thel looked slightly frustrated, but gave a faint smile as he saw Cyla in the fourth-level room.

"Greetings, Arbiter," she said, gently laying the bundles on the bed. "Please, come in."

As Autel sat down beside his father, Thel asked, "Congratulations. How many?"

"Three," Cyla said, looking down fondly at the sleeping newborns. "Two males, one female."

"I had just returned from the mountaintop," Autel said. "I was about to take them to the temple for the final blessing."

Thel examined each of the baby Sangheili. "Their appearances seem to be normal," he observed. The female yawned, opening her eyes. The Arbiter inhaled sharply. Her irises were the same colour as Autel's. White, with a hint of red in them. Naturally piercing.

"That will not be a problem," Autel said. "No one in the Keep will know." After newborns were blessed, the males were kept in the Keep, while the females were sent into the State, along with the mother.

The doctor entered the room, holding a container. "Cyla, I must administer to you one last dose of the strengthening solution." Thel stood up, placed his fingers to his chest in the "best of luck" gesture, and left the room.

Autel stood up too. "I will return soon," he said. Cyla nodded, and said, "I will prepare to leave." Sangheili females lost a lot of blood upon giving birth, and she had spent the last few units trying to recover it. They quickly embraced, and he picked up the newborns and left the room.

Autel met with the Arbiter soon afterwords. "Greetings, father." Autel curled his fist over his chest.

The Arbiter returned the gesture. "Greetings to you to, Autel. I bring fell news of the Fallen."

Autel clicked his mandibles. "The situation is most assuredly out of hand now."

Thel nodded. "We need help from those we are courting. I will be leaving on the morrow to seek the aid of the humans."

"I'm afraid the 'Marines' won't be able to help much."

The Arbiter smiled and turned away. "I won't be asking for Marines."

Taszar stepped over the body of the last member of the rebel squad. The filth had challenged him, waving his energy sword around. Taszar was not one to be trifled with.

He had simply locked blades with the scum, brought him close, then headbutted him, goring his foe's face in with the spikes on his helmet.

The spikes of his helmet gleamed purple in the low light along with his orange eyes, giving him an eerie appearance.

Zehr'tul reloaded his carbine he had scavenged from a dead enemy, dropping the depleted energy cell and slapping a new one in to place.

The Fallen hideout was ingeniously designed, hidden away in to the face of a cliff. But it had been a simple matter to track the footprints to the small entrance and slay the guard.

The next room was brightly lit. Taszar and Zehr'tul took positions on either side of the doorway and peeked in.

Many Sangheili, mostly Minors, loitered around. The room was quite obviously a dining hall, and the midday meal was in full swing.

Taszar and Zehr'tul activated their camouflage and passed unnoticed on the catwalks above.

The next room was what they were really looking for: the armory.

The life long friends nodded to each other and each moved to set the charges. Firearms were first to be rigged to explode, then the fuel cells and explosives.

The whole task took half a unit, and they were glad to be done.

They started back the way they came, but another Sangheili was coming their way on the catwalk. It being only wide enough for one Sangheili at once, the pair had no choice but to go back the way they came.

It was then that they realized there were no hiding spots in the armory, and the Fallen Sangheili was sure to spot them when he activated the lights.

Taszar held a fist up to Zehr'tul, who nodded and shrank back in to the shadows.

The Fallen entered, and Zehr'tul stepped out of the shadows, deactivating his camouflage. The Fallen's mandibles went slack in surprise.

"Hey, who are—"

Taszar wrapped the purple garrote wire around the Sangheili's neck and wrenched it tight. Blood poured out of his neck and he crumpled to his knees, struggling to get it out of his throat, unable to make a sound.

The friends left, their obstacle cleared.

Autel walked down the steps of the keep carrying the three tiny bundles. Him a father. The thought had been in his mind all morning, but it still filled him with a great joy.

His feet clicked on the stone as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

He spun as he heard a rustling, and saw a flash of armor and ducked. He left the children on the ground as he rose again, activating his Energy Sword.

Air whistled behind him, and he spun and blocked the energy staff. With a twist of his wrist he lopped the head off it. Another twist, and his attacker's head flew off.

He heard a squeak from behind him, and a tall Sangheili stood there, holding the three bundles. His children.

Air whistled, and his vision went dark.

Cyla jerked up as she heard a mighty roar, and the sound of the main doors closing noisily. She knew something was wrong.

The doctor looked up. "Is there a problem, Excellency?"

Cyla twisted to look out the window, where a group of Sangheili were running down the path. "What has happened?"

Autel entered the room, holding a deactivated Energy Sword. His normally pale eyes were a deep shade of crimson, and his mandibles were bared in anger.

His hands trembling, he placed the Energy Sword back to his side. Taking a deep breath, he looked to Cyla and said softly, "They have taken them." In his other hand he held three bundels of empty cloth.

The doctor awkwardly left the room, and a moment later, Cyla felt tears running down her face. As she cried out in despair and squeezed her eyes shut, feeling Autel's arms around her. She could almost feel his sadness. Cyla tried to stop her weeping, but could not, and wished that her hearts would stop beating.

Chapter 2
'''TIME 16:22:37:09 (ACCURACY 1/10 to that of Forerunner), FOURTEENTH SUNRISE SHIFT OF THE FIFTH MONTH (SANGHELIOS TIME UNIT), 4TH AGE OF AMENDMENT (COVENANT TIME UNIT, BASED ON FORERUNNER TIME UNIT), SLIPSPACE

1652 HOURS, FEBRUARY 26TH, 2559 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)

Thel 'Vadam walked to the head of the bridge, next to Rtas 'Vadum.

"I just received a communique from Sanghelios, Arbiter."

"What is it?"

Rtas blinked and clicked his mandibles. "In your quarters. Your son wishes to speak with you."

Sensing something was up, he walked slightly faster back to his quarters.

Sealing the door, he activated the holo-table and opened a channel to Sanghelios, tuned to Autel's com.

He responded a subunit later. "Father, thank you for answering so fast."

Thel was startled. Autel's armor was on, except his helmet, providing him a good view of Autel's face, white, with the two purple scars on his right cheek.

"What has transpired? You should still be traveling with your children!"

Autel hung his head. "My children are gone! Kidnapped by the Fallen."

Thel resisted the urge to break the door in. "We will return to Sanghelios at once!"

"No! We need the humans more than ever now! The keep is losing hope, and our warriors are spread thin. I will personally be tracking down my children, but you must bring the help of the humans."

Thel was humbled by his son's calmness and strength. "Very well. How is your mate?"

It was Autel's turn to be humbled. "Not well, she has taken ill from grief and cannot travel. I have assured her all is well, but the physician says that retrieving the children is of utmost importance, for her and the Keep." He snorted. "Like I needed to be told that."

Thel nodded. "I dare not keep you any longer. Go, and bring down the fury of Vadam onto the usurpers!"

Autel nodded and shut off the holo-table.

Rtas looked at him when Thel returned to the bridge. "Arbiter, you look as though a planet just got laid upon your shoulders! What has happened."

Thel sighed and looked up at the screen. "I fear I may no longer be a grandfather."

All the bridge crew could do was sit there, dumbfounded.

"Katana you are cleared for drop. Good hunting."

SPARTAN Matt-G132 replied: "Aye aye, prepping for drop."

The five Spartans of Katana team seated themselves in the drop pods and buckled up.

A few minutes later the hatch slid shut in front of them, and darkness engulfed the inside of the pods.

Lights flickered on, and a team com channel opened, as well as one to the STARS satellite.

Joey watch as the mission parameters scrolled down in front of him:

'''//Stellar System: Zeta-9//

'''//Mission: Inspection of old UNSC emergency code//

//The following is a transcript of the emergency beacon://

This is ODST squad[static] of the 105th ODST division. We are stranded on planet Zeta-9, coor[static]. Are running low on [static] and need assistance. Broadcast repeats.

//End transcript//

//Select this to hear the full transmission//

He switched off the message and checked the countdown. Thirty seconds. As the Helljumpers would put it: "time to shove the cork in your ass."

Five... four... three... two... one...

A loud thump was heard, and he accelerated incredibly fast from the belly of the cruiser.

"Katana, we're predicting that you'll be split up by about two kilometers, and about one click from you predicted landing site."

"Copy that, command."

The pod began rumbling as they hit atmosphere.

"Thirty seconds to landing."

Joey braced himself.

"Deploying chute."

He jolted in his seat as the chute unraveled and slowed his downward velocity.

"Fifteen seconds."

Braced...

His pod hit the soft earth hard, and he felt his spine stress with the inertia of his body.

He checked the external sensors for hostiles, then hit the eject button.

The front of his pod shot away from him with a whoosh, and he leaped out on to the moist ground of Zeta-9.

Synching with the GPS from the STARS satellite, he took off to the RV point with the rest of Katana Team.

He was second there. Dennis was already there, seated on a stump; cloaked, of course.

The rest of the team got there within ten minutes, with Sara lagging behind the others. She ran up, explaining that her pod hatch had stuck shut.

Thus reunited, Katana team activated their camouflage and set off in to the undergrowth, towards the source of the signal.

It was twenty-two clicks to the signal location. It was going to be a long walk...

Corporal Aqil Hafsa finished shaving and shook the shaving cream can. Almost empty. Damn.

He checked for any last stubble before washing his face and slinging his weapon over his back.

Marching out of the makeshift latrine he spotted Gunnery Sergeant O'Brien coming down off the ridge. When O'Brien saw him he pumped his arm, and Hafsa's blood ran cold.

Ever since they'd landed on this planet seven years ago they'd acted out guerrilla warfare on the Covenant troops stationed here. When they'd run out of bullets they'd hauled off Covenant weapons.

Unfortunately the aliens, weather, and constant food shortages had whittled their numbers down from their original 36 to just nineteen of them. Among them were Staff Sergeant Donald and Sergeant Major Anderson. Donald had been cut down by a brute with a grenade launcher, literally blown to bits. Anderson had gone down under a slew of Jackals, who poured over him in an attempt to break the ODST line.

At first morale had been high, but as the years passed and boredom really set in, things were starting to look bad.

Now things couldn't be worse. Half the remaining men were close to mutiny, and now the Covenant were on their way.

Hurrying from shelter to shelter, Hafsa roused the ODST's and got ready to move out.

They bundled up all the essentials, doused the fires, and packed the small tents.

They left the more complicated shelters, like the lean-tos and the small caves. They'd been in this particular location for about three months, and had built more permanent shelters. Now they had to abandon them.

The company was ready to move within six minutes. By that time Hafsa had learned that the Covenant forces were only a couple minutes out. They had to move or get screwed to the wall.

The nineteen remaining ODSTs double timed it out of the depression and made for the heart of the woods.

Hafsa took rearguard, watching for the enemies that would be pursuing them.

The company traveled for two kilometers before meeting up with another search party. They engaged the thirty or so grunts and two brutes and brought them down quickly.

One ODST took a spike through the leg, and a medic rushed to help him. They'd had to resort to using Covenant medical equipment, theirs having been used up years ago.

The path cleared, they moved on.

Joey held up his hand and the team halted.

He cocked his head and listened hard. Sure enough, he heard Covenant weapons fire off in the distance.

"Lets check it out."

They followed the sounds and found themselves at the site of a small battle.

"Sara, where's the beacon now?"

"Half a click due east, sir."

"Move out."

They walked in to the middle of another fire fight. About nineteen ODST's were firing down on a party of thirty grunts and ten brutes.

Katana charged in to the fray, easily turning the fight in favor of the humans. The ODSTs cheered themselves ragged, and Joey realized that they were wearing old ODST armor.

He marched up to a young private. "Where's your CO, private?"

The private looked up at him, ashen faced, and jerked his head towards two ODSTs, both with their helmets off. One was on the ground, dead.

Corporal Hafsa looked up from the body of Sergeant O'Brien. "I'm in command now. What took you so long to get here?"

"What's your division?"

"105st ODST division, assigned to the Pillar of Autumn."

Joey was shocked. the 105st had been wiped out on Alpha Halo, how could... unless...

Katana's coms crackled and the voice of another Spartan filled their ears.

"Katana, we are extracting you on the double. A message just came from the Sangheili requesting assistance.  We are returning to Earth before shipping out to Sanghelios."

Katana looked at each other and then at the bedraggled ODST's.

Joey clicked on to respond: "Yessir. By the way, we just found our objective.  You're not going to believe this..."

Chapter 3
'1900 HOURS, FEBRUARY 26TH, 2559 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR), UNSC FRIGATE INDEPENDENT CRUSADER'', IN ORBIT ABOVE PLANET EARTH

SPARTAN-116 paced the floor back and forth, thinking. He was dimly aware that the Independent Crusader entered Slipspace, but he couldn't help but feel that it wasn't quick enough.

"Are you certain that the transmission reached Zeta-9?" he asked. Cortana's hologram flickered on at a nearby pedestal. She still seemed different after she had been modified by the Forerunner technicians. She had opted to remain without a physical form, but had a tinge of silver to her purple-blue image. But she didn't seem as obstructed by memory space anymore, which could only be an improvement.

"No, I'm not certain," Cortana replied. "Once a COM probe is sent through Slipspace it is impossible to track down. Even with our developing technology it'll still be decades before we figure out how. But I'm ninety-three point six four percent certain the transition was successful, and a ninety-one point two seven percent chance of exit without anomaly."

One thing never changed about her though. She was still as smart-mouthed as ever.

"Thank you," the Lieutenant Commander said dryly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw SPARTAN-117's helmet twitch slightly, behind which he was sure held an amused smile. The senior Spartan decided to sit down instead.

Assembled around the room were the other Spartans. Blue and Gray Team of the SPARTAN-IIs, and Beta Company and Team Sabre of the SPARTAN-IIIs. If Ezekiel received the transmission, he would have gathered Team Katana to meet them at Sanghelios.

The Lieutenant Commander thought back to the message. It seemed odd that the proud, honourable Sangheili would do something like wage wars upon themselves. He knew what caused it, and felt a slight twinge of guilt for the Sangheili.

"How long until we arrive?" he asked.

"You're rather jumpy," Cortana said. "We will reenter normal space in fifteen hours."

The Spartan's hands tightened. Fifteen hours was such a long time. And he owed a favour to the species that had pulled him out of dead space and saved Earth, twice.

"Relax," the AI advised. "With our old engines it would have taken us days."

The Lieutenant Commander sighed. She was right. They were headed for Sanghelios at maximum speed, and there was nothing he could really do about it to get there faster. He had to accept that and put it out of his mind, like any other Spartan.

It was difficult, because he wasn't a Spartan. Not really. He hadn't been trained like everyone else, and only the Forerunner chemicals injected into his body kept him alive through the past three years. Still, he decided to distract himself by examining the upgraded weapons. Despite the newly claimed Forerunner weapons and intelligence, the UNSC had not wanted to overkill their tech with ultra-powerful weapons, as such objects could cause trouble if there was ever trouble for humanity again (if the Insurrection were reformed, to say, or perhaps a greater threat). And seeing what had happened on Sanghelios, the Lieutenant Commander didn't really blame them.

The senior Spartan surveyed the Spartan team. He had found and gathered the survivors of the supersoldiers in 2556, and they had been through a lot since then. Blue Team were the most well-known SPARTAN-IIs alive. Lieutenant SPARTAN Frederic-104 was the leading officer, although he cared a bit too much about his subordinates. Petty Officers SPARTAN Kelly-087 and Linda-058 were almost complete opposites. Kelly liked cracking jokes, preferred close range combat and worked well with anything that fired full automatic. Linda was often quiet, had a serious, almost cold personality, and posted as a sharpshooter unless ordered otherwise. However, to say that Linda was just a sniper was like saying a Warthog was just a car, or the UNSC was just a group of soldiers.

Gray Team were trained under the same class as Blue Team, but were more discreet. Petty Officers SPARTAN Jai-006 and Adriana-111 were a bit more on the loose side than most Spartans, as was their pilot, Mike. They had not seen as much action as most SPARTAN-IIs, but that was not to say they were incompetent. The Lieutenant Commander had found out how much he could trust them in 2556.

SPARTANs Tom-B292 and Lucy-B091 were the senior SPARTAN-IIIs. Although their combat strategies were similar to one another, the Lieutenant Commander had never heard Lucy say a word. He knew that she wasn't merely quiet. Not even Linda kept such a long stretch of silence in the three years he knew her. Something was obviously wrong with her ability to speak, but he didn't want to ask if she wasn't willing to tell. Then again, she never told anyone anything.

Ash, Olivia, and Mark were the Gamma Company SPARTAN-IIIs, under Team Sabre. They were a bit rough around the edges, but worked well as a team, and had proven their worth in combat. Team Katana was no different.

Ezekiel was a Class II SPARTAN-II. He was given the rank of Lieutenant very recently, to train what was rumoured to be a fifth company of SPARTAN-IIIs, Delta Company. The Lieutenant Commander knew that Delta Company had never been trained, but there were a few hundred SPARTAN-IIIs from Gamma Company Missing in Action. No one could find them yet, but with the UNSC's new technology, it would not be long.

Currently, the Spartans numbered to almost a score, and the Lieutenant Commander was glad they were here. And pretty soon, so would the Sangheili.

Autel kept pace with the Fallen without difficulty, without making the slightest noise from his hooves. He kept his eyes on the separatist, but knew that Fira was behind him. If he looked away for a moment, they could lose the Fallen.

Autel knew that the Fallen would most likely notice the active camouflage he and Fira were using as well should he turn around, as all Sangheili were trained to enhance their already sharp vision. But for the moment, it kept them a bit less conspicous.

Autel could make out the vague outline of a sack hefted over the Fallen's back, and was tempted to free the newborns he was sure was inside. But if they waited, it was more likely they would find all of them.

The Fallen led them to an aircraft factory, and slipped inside. Autel blinked. Hidden in plain sight. It wasn't even abandoned. Just how much control over Sanghelios did the Fallen possess?

Autel unholstered a Plasma Rifle. Fira activated his Needle pistol. They entered before the doors closed, and—

Thick, white powder sprayed them. Alarms rang through the factory. Autel swore as he realized that they didn't even take the time to check for security. They must have tripped a DNA scanner.

He hadn't been thinking straight since his newborns were kidnapped. Without telling anyone, he found Fira, who agreed to help him. Apparently several newborns from his family were stolen as well.

They had spotted a blur moving quickly down the street. Sometimes stealth made you an obvious target. After following it for two units through various states. And after the painstaking trail, where they made it without being discovered were just squandered.

Fallen rushed in, firing at them. The powder had coated them completely, rendering the camouflage useless. Autel tried to take down as many as he could, but knew they would not last long. There was also no way around them. More Fallen blocked the exits. They were trapped.

An explosion tore the main door open. Dozens of Sangheili rushed in, firing at once. In a single heartbeat, the tables were turned, and soon the Fallen in the room were eliminated.

Autel wiped some of the powder off his face, and gaped in surprise. "How did they know we were here?"

Fira smiled. "I tend to think ahead, my friend. And I found many willing to help me."

Autel saw his step-brother approach them and hand them cleaning units. "You look even paler than you usually do," he teased. Autel returned the smile, grateful that they had been there.

Fira was conversing with a silver-armoured Sangheili. Autel knew that the Ultra was Fira's older cousin.

"This is where they have taken them?" he asked.

"I think so, Sona," Fira replied, activating the cleaning unit and watching it restore his armour back to its original crimson, "although there may also be other locations they hide in."

"Then we shall find the scum responsible for this and wring out their innards until they reveal the truth to us," the Ultra growled.

Autel was surprised. He knew that Sona 'Demal was a formidable warrior, but was also known for his lack of aggression. He had never heard him speak with such venom in his voice. Then again, the Fallen had committed a great sin, and in addition abducted twenty-one newborns from the Demal line.

Autel checked that his armour was free of powder, and re-entered invisibility. Fira did the same. "We shall investigate," he said. "If you remain here, the Fallen may think they held you up." A moment later, another door opened, and more Fallen entered.

"Fire!" Sona ordered, and the Sangheili engaged the separatists. Autel and Fira entered a gravity lift, heading for the top floor. He heard a pipe explode below him as plasma melted the tube. He got a glimpse of fuel spilling all over the floor before they were thrown out of the lift.

They were in a docking bay, where ships were launched after construction. The testing passages were removed, and a stealth corvette parked below the exit. Groups of Fallen were taking opaque sacks and loading them onto the corvette.

One of them moved, and a separatist held up a can of tranquilizer. Facing away from the opening, he sprayed into the sack. The movements stopped.

Another Sangheili stood at the base of the corvette's gravity lift. He was obviously in command. "Hurry," he snapped. "It will not be long before they find us." He turned to one of the Fallen. "Have the reinforcements been sent?"

"Yes, Excellency," he replied.

"Then deactivate the gravity lifts," he said. The Fallen complied, and the lift dimmed and shut down.

There was something familiar about his voice. And Autel realized who it was.

"Isto 'Vadum," he whispered. Isto was infamous for his brutality, and had a well-known rivalry with Fleet Master Rtas 'Vadum. Although he was widely suspected to be a part of the Fallen, nothing had ever been proven. Until now.

"What is our plan?" Fira asked. "Sona and his squad cannot reach us."

"We should enter the ship," Autel said. "Perhaps we can disable it. Then we will reactivate the gravity lifts and convince Isto to surrender."

"I do not think he will surrender," Fira remarked, but they moved for the ship. They would have to slip past Isto, but there was no other option.

A Fallen carried three sacks and approached the gravity lift. "These are the last ones," he said, "and the storage facilities are full."

"We shall carry them ourselves then," Isto said. He grabbed one of the sacks and moved for the gravity lift.

There was a thud as the sack swung around and hit Fira in the shoulder. Isto's eyes flashed. He dropped the sack, pulled a plasma rifle out, and fired.

Autel wanted to help him, but he had to disable the ship. With any luck, the separatist would assume Fira was alone. He knew that his friend would be willing to give up his life for the newborns.

Autel ran for the lift, but the other Fallen fired at Fira. The bolts connected with Autel's armour, and his camouflage vanished.

Fira was returning fire, but Isto moved very quickly. He lashed out, catching Autel across the gullet with his rifle. He fell back, and plasma fire ripped around him. He accidentally let go of his gun, and saw it fall down the deactivated gravity lift.

"Get aboard the ship!" Isto shouted. "I shall deal with them." Fira's needle pistol clicked empty, and he grabbed the Fallen in a chokehold. Isto flipped him over his back and sent him sprawling to the ground. He activated an Energy Sword, and was about to finish him, when Autel ran forward and slide-tackled him. He grabbed for the Energy Sword, and Fira found Isto's rifle.

The Fallen leader stood up, backing towards the corvette's gravity lift. Autel lunged at him, but Isto ducked, knocking him on his front with a kick. Fira aimed the rifle at him.

Isto saw the sack he dropped lying a few feet away. He couldn't get to it now. Smiling maliciously, he activated a plasma grenade, and threw it at the sack.

Fira stepped in front of the grenade. The greande adhered to his chest, and he moved fast, away from the sack so the explosion would not harm the newborns. There was no fear in his eyes.

Autel turned away as he saw the blue-white explosion consume his friend, and saw Isto running for the gravity lift. With a roar of fury, he threw the Energy Sword at Isto. One of the blades stuck into the Fallen's side, and he flinched, but disappeared up the gravity lift. The corvette lifted up and flew out of the hangar.

Autel ran to Fira, who was lying in a pool of his own blood. He looked around, feeling completely helpless, not knowing what to do. Then he stood up, and ran for the main controls. Autel reactivated the gravity lift, and Sangheili soldiers began rushing up. Sona approached him, and knelt beside his cousin. His eyes looked over the numerous open wounds upon Fira's body, and the remains of his armour stained purple. He was silent.

Taszar had opened the sack, checking over the newborns inside. There were a dozen unconscious newborns, and he checked to make sure they were alright.

Autel turned back to Sona, who still did not speak. Finally, he said grimly, "He will live." I cannot say the same for that traitor, the young Sangheili thought. He watched as Sona ginerly lifted Fira, and headed back down the lift. He followed the squad out of the factory.

Chapter 4
'2234 HOURS, FEBRUARY 26TH, 2559 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR), UNSC FRIGATE INDEPENDENT CRUSADER'', IN ORBIT ABOVE ZETA-9

The two Pelicans glided slowly in to the hangar and nineteen ODSTs in antiquated armor jumped out. Katana Team was last out, with the body of Sergeant O'Brien wrapped in a blanket and carried on a stretcher.

The Lieutenant Commander saluted the ODSTs and Katana, and walked up to Joey.

"How is this possible?"

"They were assigned to the Halcyon-class cruiser Pillar of Autumn. When they were ejected from it in their pods, they missed Halo and wound up on one of Threshold's moons. They were able to find heretic Sangheili and escape to this planet using a damaged Covenant ship, where they've been fighting to survive for seven years."

"Sounds like something a team of Spartans would do."

"Remember Gray Team, sir. They did it, too."

"But they didn't do it in constant threat of discovery. Go get cleaned up, Sanghelios is our next stop."

A few ODSTs looked his way with worried eyes. They had set themselves up on the floor of the hangar, and had torn their armor off. Several had tear tracks running down their faces. It was obvious they had been close to breaking. The Lieutenant Commander just didn't know if he had the heart to tell them what was happening next.

"Who's in command?"

And ODST with Corporal bars stood. "Corporal Aqil Hafsa, sir."

''Corporal? Things had gone bad.''

"Very well, I'm giving you a field promotion to Sergeant. I'm SPARTAN-116. Please come with me. We have a lot to discuss."

116 strode back on to the bridge and took a seat at the communications panel.

"Hafsa is briefing the rest of the ODSTs on our mission, and advising them that, for them, its strictly voluntary."

The Master Chief looked over at him, his pale skin still not having darkened after being in his armor for so long.

"They'll all volunteer. They're tired, spent, and at their limit, but they're ODSTs.  They're probably the closest relatives to the Spartans than any other human."

The Lieutenant Commander nodded and turned to examine the screens before him. No new messages.

"No new orders. We're proceeding with the mission.  Warm up the slipspace drives."

Kelly at navigation tapped rapidly on the keyboard. "Charging... charged. Initiating jump."

'1356 HOURS, FEBRUARY 27TH, 2559 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR), UNSC FRIGATE INDEPENDENT CRUSADER'', IN ORBIT ABOVE SANGHELIOS

Space bent, stars formed, and the Independent Crusader forced its way back in to reality.

Spartan-116 looked down on the red tinged planet, punctuated by blue waters and back dropped by reddish-orange landmasses.

Linda was standing behind him, her sniper rifle attached to her back. "So that's the Sangheili home world."

Fred strode up from behind. "Almost like it's stained red from human blood."

116 understood the sentiment. For all the blood they'd spilled over the years...

'''TIME 13:61:38:72 (ACCURACY 1/10 to that of Forerunner), SIXTEENTH SUNRISE SHIFT OF THE FIFTH MONTH (SANGHELIOS TIME UNIT), 4TH AGE OF AMENDMENT (COVENANT TIME UNIT, BASED ON FORERUNNER TIME UNIT), DEMAL KEEP MEDICAL CENTER

1411 HOURS, FEBRUARY 27TH, 2559 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)

Autel strode impatiently up and down the hall, while Zehr'tul and Taszar stood by a pillar, conversing quietly. The subject of their conversation was obviously Isto 'Vadum. Fira had been in surgery for hours now, and nothing had been heard.

Presently the door slid open, and a blood soaked Sangheili and a Huragok floated out. As both approached Autel, Zehr'tul and Taszar walked over to hear the discourse.

The Huragok started whistling and gibbering, and the Sangheili translated.

"Fira 'Demal has sustained major burns to over half his body, and almost half his organs are dead or failing. One of his hearts was destroyed.  He will require a lot of blood and several transplants.  He has a slim chance of survival, but this is bolstered by the fact that he's in a coma, reducing his heart rate, so he won't bleed quite as much."

To Autel, this was not necessarily bad news. His friend had a sliver of a chance to survive, but he had already survived the explosion of a plasma grenade. Maybe he could beat the odds twice.

"Thank you."

The Sangheili surgeon nodded, and the Huragok twittered, then both reentered the room to continue the work.

Autel finally slumped in to a seat, drained of energy.

Footsteps reached his ears, and Zehr'tul and Taszar were standing straight, staring down the hall.

Autel looked up, and saw three humans in luminescent green armor.

They approached him, and he stood.

The front most one spoke first. "You're Autel 'Vadam?"

Autel nodded, and the Spartan continued. "I'm SPARTAN-117. We're here to help you."

Ezekiel looked around at the Sangheili around them. They did not look distrusting as he had expected, but hopeful, and also desperate. And from what SPARTAN-116 told him, he couldn't blame them.

Ezekiel glanced sideways slightly. Tom and Lucy were standing absolutely still, no doubt also gazing at the aliens from behind their wide, curved visors. They had a lot more training than most SPARTAN-IIIs, and were ready for anything. At least he hoped so, for everyone's sake.

The grey-armoured Sangheili known as the Arbiter spoke. "We are glad you have come. We are in a rather dire situation."

"What do you need us to do?" the Lieutenant Commander asked. He didn't waste time on small talk.

"The Fallen leader has left many of his legion behind. He thinks he will return successfully and rally them again. We are to track down the remaining Fallen, discover where the leader has gone, and stop him before he returns."

"We can handle it," the senior Spartan said. If the Sangheili don't get in our way, Ezekiel thought.

The Lieutenant Commander paused, and activated his comm. "Chief?" He listened intently for a few moments, and said, "Understood. Get the others ready to move out." He turned back to the Arbiter. "Autel told the Chief that he had found out who the leader was. Someone named Isto 'Vadum."

A silver-armoured Sangheili behind the Arbiter bared his mandibles in anger, his fists clenching. Ezekiel's fingers strayed towards his sidearm, but he realized that the alien wasn't mad at the Lieutenant Commander. This Isto 'Vadum must have been someone he knew.

The Arbiter was silent, then he said. "Thank you. We should get ready to find the Fallen. Please follow me."

Beta, Katana, and Sabre were fully aware that they were the first humans to ever enter a Sangheili Keep.

They were not, however, the first to get stares from the Sangheili. They were obviously getting mixed reactions. Some seemed almost happy that humans were there, and some looked resigned.

The ten Spartans entered through the grand doors, and were amazed at the emptiness of the hall. They had expected a full hall of alien warriors. What they were greeted with were a few guards.

Crystal approached one of the walls carved with art and writing.

"They're all out in battle. Where we should be."

An old Sangheili garbed in a large robe approached the two teams, and Ash noticed a greater abundance of guards step out of the shadows.

He approached the Sangheili counselor. "Counselor, it's a pleasure."

The Counselor waved a three-fingered hand. "Please, spare me the pleasantries. We need to find the young ones.  Go upstairs and meet with the mother.  She will want to speak with you.  Just you and the other team leader, if you will."

Ash and Joey glanced at each other. "Alright."

"Then follow me. This way."

The bedroom was a large affair, but its details were like the entry hall. Not much in decorations, but an abundance of carvings on the wall, along with some of the Sangheili's poetic writing.

A small, hunched, emaciated Sangheili female stepped out from another room, the first any human had seen.

Joey was shocked. He had, naturally, studied the mission parameters, which had included descriptions of the key creatures he might be interacting with. Cyla had been a minor one, but now he saw that the mother of three Sangheili was probably the most affected by the turn of events. She had been described as a proud, straight-backed Sangheili. Now the loss of her children had reduced her once proud stature to something far less. When she spoke, her voice carried a deep, slightly raspy voice.

"My greetings to you, humans. What might I help you with?"

Ash was first to respond: "I'm not sure, ma'am. We thought you might know something about who we're going after."

She nodded, and sat down on a chair. "Would you like a seat?"

Still keeping the same manners and strength of will she was described with Joey thought.

Ash spoke again. "I'm afraid we can't. The chairs would not likely support our armor."

"Very well. You know who the Leader of the Fallen is, yes?"

"Isto 'Vadum, ma'am."

"And you know who he is?"

"Only what few tidbits we can squeeze out of the Arbiter. Nothing solid."

"You know the fleet master Rtas 'Vadum?"

"Of course."

"Isto is in his family."

This set both Spartans back on their heels. The fact that the leader of leader of the Fallen was in the same bloodline in the most famous Fleet Master of the Sangheili was obviously an insult to them and an indication of deepest shame.

Something of this showed in their body language, as Cyla's eyes flickered from one to the other, and she acknowledged their shock with an almost imperceptible nod.

"This is... most enlightening, ma'am."

She waved her hand. "Please, stop with the 'ma'am'. I'm not one of your human officers."

"It's a sign of respect in our culture. We will cease if you ask."

"Interesting. How do you plan on finding Isto?"

It was Joey's turn to speak.

"We're not sure yet. We need to learn as much as we can about him as possible."

"Well then, get comfortable. I will tell you all I know..."

Joey was perplexed. "Well, that was very enlightening."

Ash nodded in reply, but didn't say anything.

The two Spartan teams were sitting stock upright on stone benches in the hall. On the approach of Ash and Joey, they stood and joined them.

Ash jerked his head, and they left.

Sara was being her usual curious self. "Well, what did you learn?"

"Can't tell you."

"Bull."

"Seriously, we can't. Its for the leaders ears only.  I'll tell you if I can."

"Hmph."

Maria Esquival worried about her son. She couldn't help it. He worked for her former enemy, as a marine on the now slightly clearer front lines.

Every day she feared that today would be the day, and she'd open the door to find two marines there, holding the UNSC flag.

She finished her shopping, paid for the groceries, and went home. Maria lived on a pension from years of work in civic sociology, occasionally contracting out for the UNSC to establish colonies.

Under her guidance, colonies had flourished.

All for the UNSC.

Her car glided slowly in to her driveway, and she stepped out of her car. Maria popped the trunk and took the bags out and carried them in to the house.

Putting the groceries away, she closed the refrigerator door and the lights went out

A gigantic hand clamped over her mouth, and she was lifted in the air, kicking and struggling, turned to face her attacker.

An elite had a hold on her. His armor, however, was very odd for an Elite.

It seemed to be a throwback to the human middle aged eras. It had many overlapping black plates that were made to slide easily over each other, but it obviously had incredible technology behind it. She could almost feel the shield around the elite's armor.

His helmet covered his head, and a mask finished it off to cover his face. The eyepieces were slanted, made to inspire fear in his enemies. It was doing a pretty good job of it, too.

An energy sword sprang to life, the light from it throwing shadows throughout her kitchen.

The Elite clicked its mandibles, and spoke through a translator.

"If you scream for help you die, human!"

"What do you want?" Were the first words out of Maria's mouth when the elites tore the gag out.

The leader, one who called himself Isto, stood on the other side of her table, his mask slung over his shoulder.

"I want you to remember what you used to fight for. Do you remember your time in the Rubble?"

She glared in to his eyes. "Of course, but I was younger then—"

He cut her off. "Your age has nothing to do with it now! We want your talents, in order to strike a blow to the UNSC and Separatists at once."

"I'm not sure—"

"Remember what you wanted? You wanted to work with the Covenant, you knew that we were the right ones, that the UNSC is the tyrannical regime!"

Maria's gaze faltered, then hardened again. "But those Jackals betrayed us! They were set to slit our throats!"

"Jackals can never be trusted! But I, as a Sangheili of the Covenant, and a Fallen, give you my word and honor that I cannot betray you.  Remember why you hated the UNSC.  Where has your fire gone?"

"No!" Maria said. "It's been so many years, we're allies! I can't believe you would do this to your own species, and mine!"

Isto's grip tightened, and placed the Sword in front of her face. "If you do not do as I say, I will kill you."

There was steel in her eyes. "Then kill me. I won't help you do this."

He was surprised, and a bit impressed. This human had as much honour as any Sangheili.

Isto's mandibles parted in a nasty smile. "If you do not help me, I will kill your son."

Maria hung her head. "What do you want me to do?"

Isto 'Vadum smiled and thought to himself:

''A traitor helping a traitor. I'll have to watch her as she'll watch me.''

The ODST's backs were rigid as they marched through the streets of the elite city. After fighting the elites for years on end, it went against every instinct they had to not shoot.

The Elites did not respect them as they respected the Spartans. As augmented humans in powered assault armor, the Spartans matched the elites strength and were many times faster. The ODSTs did not have this advantage, being much weaker of muscle and maybe just as fast.

The ODST armor had been repaired and improved upon, with basic shields having been added that were half as strong as MJOLNIR Mk. V armor. The armor plates had been reinforced, able to take much more punishment from high heat sources, such as plasma.

Sergeant Hafsa fingered with the trigger guard on his SMG as he saw some Elites slink off in to an alley. The ODSTs had split in to two groups, eight in one, nine in the other, in order to travel faster.

It was too long for the marines before they found five of the Spartans in a small courtyard with a fancy fountain in the center. The other team, Bravo, had found the other Spartans.

The Spartan team leader, one with G148 one his shoulder, stepped forward.

"Apparently the Fallen leaders and Sangheili newborn have left this planet. We'll be staying here to here to fight the Fallen."

Hafsa's hand reached for his SMG. "Well then, why are we just standing about?"

G148 nodded. "Follow me, then."

Better standing by some pretty fountain than sitting helpless behind some rock. Hafsa thought not half an hour later.

The ODSTs had hit a group of thirty Fallen from two sides, crushing five of them in seconds. Then the tables had turned to the side with greater numbers. Now twenty-five elites had the seventeen Helljumpers pinned down.

Hafsa tilted his head up, then whipped it back. He had an idea...

He tapped a Corporal's shoulder, and spun his fist around his wrist. The Corporal nodded and repeated the gesture to three others. They moved off.

Hafsa scooted over until he reached the edge of their barricade until he had a line of sight with Bravo team. He held his hand flat, fingers completely parallel and straight vertically, then waved.

A gloved hand appeared, fingers held horizontally, and twitched up and down.

Hafsa turned back to the remaining three left on his team and pumped his arm, fist up.

They nodded and primed four grenades.

Hafsa closed his exterior mic and opened the team channel. "Hit 'em now!"

The four stood and threw the grenades, then ducked back down. One ODST took a hit in the chest and dropped, but he waved the medic away and picked his MA5C back up.

The grenades detonated, and ten of the elites' shields went down.

Battle fire ripped in to them, cutting seven more down and wounding the other three.

Good, now- "Bravo, up and at 'em."

Bravo team stood, throwing plasma grenades. Elites dove left and right, scattering their forces. One grenade stuck, and the elite roared before being consumed by blue fire, taking one other with him. Just nine were unharmed.

Now scattered, it was not hard for the experienced ODSTs to cut the rest down. Three were left alive, bound tightly, and marched up to the 'Vadam keep.

Master Chief was still there, talking with the elder Elite.

Hafsa and two other ODSTs hit the elites in the back of their legs, forcing them in to a kneeling position. "Got a package for ya."

The elder stepped forward. "How many were there?"

Hafsa shrugged. "Twenty-five. These are all that's left of 'em."

The two elite guards on either side of the doors shifted and glanced at each other, and the elder's eyes widened a bit.

"Truly, a skillfully fought battle. Were any of your number killed?"

The newly promoted Sergeant shook his head. "No, just a couple burns and a melted breastplate."

The elder nodded approvingly.

The two teams of Spartan IIIs walked up, and the two team leaders stepped forward. G148 spoke first, then G099:

"Thirty five dead, no prisoners."

"Got forty here, two prisoners."

The Master Chief nodded and walked away.

The ODSTs were standing awkwardly when the elder beckoned them all inside. "Come, it is almost time to eat."

The Private who'd taken a bolt to the chest opened the team com: "What do Sangheili eat?"

Hafsa shrugged, and the humans entered the dining hall.

Sixty elites turned as the ten Spartans and seventeen ODSTs, the Helljumper's fingers twitching.

They were shown to the food by the elder, which smelled a bit odd, but tasted alright.

Hafsa thought it must make an odd sight, twenty seven humans sitting among sixty elites, eating their food.

Corporal Rafael Esquival entered the house. His mother Maria immediately walked into the hall.

"Rafael, you got another shore leave?" she asked, smiling.

"Not really, mom," he said, setting down his bag. "Sergeant Reynolds insisted I take a break before I kill myself."

"Well you do work too hard," she said, leading him into the hall. Rafael froze when he saw who was standing there.

A Sangheili was examining something on a portable Covenant database. His mandibles parted in a satisfied smile, and he closed it, turning to him.

"Rafael, this is Isto 'Vadum," Maria said. "He's a representative from Sanghelios, and will be staying with us in a while."

"Has he talked to the UNSC?" Rafael asked, warily gazing at him.

"Yes," she said. "And the brass has requested he remain here. It will be less...conspicuous."

There was something odd about the Sangheili. Rafael had worked with them before, and grown to trust them. But something wasn't right here. After a long, awkward silence, Rafael said, "Welcome to Earth, Isto. I hope you will enjoy your stay."

"Thank you," Isto said tonelessly. "I have been here before, on a few...errands."

And what would those be? "You won't be seeing me a lot," Rafael said. "I'm mostly in active duty."

"I will have a lot to do with your military," Isto said. "But there is also a lot to discuss with your mother."

"Well, I've got to change," the humans said. "I won't disturb you anymore." And he walked out of the room.

"He suspects something," Isto said as soon as Rafael left the room.

"He's just wary," Maria said, looking slightly uneasy.

"Your UNSC wasn't as 'wary' with me," the Sangheili said. "We must be careful."

When he had told her what he was doing, she felt guilty. But she had no choice. No doubt Isto had a dozen Sangheili hiding inside the house and out, ready to attack her son should he give the word.

Rafael had not been popular in the Marine Corps, because of her. But he had brushed it aside and proved himself a good soldier. Reynolds had even recommended he joined the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. Maria felt a slight twinge of guilt. Her son...

What would it do to Rafael if he knew what she was doing? He was so dedicated to the UNSC...

Maria sighed, and watched Isto carrying out his plans.

Chapter 5
'''TIME 17:29:10:04 (ACCURACY 1/10 to that of Forerunner), SIXTEENTH SUNRISE SHIFT OF THE FIFTH MONTH (SANGHELIOS TIME UNIT), 4TH AGE OF AMENDMENT (COVENANT TIME UNIT, BASED ON FORERUNNER TIME UNIT), DEMAL KEEP MEDICAL CENTER

2100 HOURS, FEBRUARY 27TH, 2559 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)

SPARTAN-116 slammed his Battle Rifle into the Fallen's chest, taken down his shields, following up with a three-round burst, effectively killing the alien. A second one charged with an Energy Sword. He grabbed his wrist, pulled him in, and rammed him between the ribs with his shoulder, hearing the Fallen's bones breaking. He grabbed the sword, and threw it at a third separatist, decapitating him.

A purple beam hit him in the side, glancing off his shields. He spun to face his attacker, just as Ezekiel found the sniper and broke his spine.

"That's all of them," he said.

The Lieutenant Commander nodded. "All squads report in."

"Bravo team, clear," said Fred.

"Charlie team here. We're good," Tom said.

"''Delta team, all hostiles eliminated," Ash said.

"Sir, I think we've got something!" Adriana called. The Lieutenant Commander looked where she was. It seemed to be an opening, hidden among a rock cluster.

"All squads, move to our position," the senior Spartan said, watching the Sangheili moving around to check for more enemies. Taszar 'Vadam was speaking into his comm. Turning back, he continued, "tell the Arbiter he should—"

He froze. Turning around, he saw Taszar and the five other Sangheili pointing their weapons at them. "You are going back to the Keep," he said.

"What the hell is going on?" Mike asked.

"Give us your weapons," Taszar ordered. The Spartan was about to protest, when the Lieutenant Commander complied. Slowly, the others did so as well.

The Sangheili pulled them into a Phantom, and flew off.

The Lieutenant Commander saw that the other Spartans, as well as the Marines, were at the Vadam Keep as well. Twenty Sangheili were aiming weapons at them.

"Where is their frigate?" the elder was asking.

"We have sent soldiers aboard. They should be restrained soon," a Sangheili said.

"Why are they doing this?" SPARTAN-116 asked.

John looked at him. "They've tracked the Fallen's corvette...to Earth."

"As of now, you are suspected of giving aid to the Fallen," the elder said. "We can no longer trust you."

"So why would we come here?" Hafsa retorted.

"Perhaps they wish to steal more of our newborns!" a Sangheili cried.

"They are heretics!" another one shouted.

"Kill them! Shoot down their ship!"

"Silence!" shouted a voice. All heads to turn to see Cyla walking down the steps.

"I demand to know what it is you are doing," she said quietly, but her voice held a certain danger.

"The humans are helping the Fallen!" a Sangheili said.

"I believe no such thing," she said. "Where is your evidence?"

"Isto's ship is at Earth!" the elder said.

"And they, like us, have traitors," came a voice from the doorway. Autel 'Vadam had returned, and strode in slowly.

"I think these humans should be executed," the elder said, "like any Sangheili who has committed heresy."

"That would be unjust," Autel replied. "We should give them a chance to explain themselves. Perhaps a trial would be sufficient."

"Autel—" the elder began, but he cut across him.

"I think," the soldier said, "that this matter is best left to the Arbiter. I think you were rather hasty when you pronounced these humans as heretics. These humans will stay at our Keep tonight, and if any harm befalls them, I will find those responsible. Do you understand me, elder?" Autel's eyes flashed dangerously.

After a long pause, he finally nodded. "Very well. Escort them back to their rooms."

The Lieutenant Commander gave a nod of thanks, and walked out of the hall.

When it was empty, Autel turned to Taszar. "That was foolish."

"We must obey our elders," his stepbrother pointed out.

"I think," he said coldly, "that I know these humans more than you, Taszar. And especially more than the elders." And without another word, he strode out of the hall with Cyla.