User:Dragonclaws/Ascension24

Revolution
“W-what does that mean?” Miranda Keyes asked dumbly. She shifted her position as little as she could with her hands cuffed behind her back and two guards preventing her from rising from her chair.

Despite being dressed in the simple grey of a civilian adviser, the young ONI agent wore a high-level red badge indicating her as a Ms. Rani Sobeck. “It means,” she stated, cold disdain running through her voice, tinged with what sounded like a Southwestern United States accent, “That the review board has determined that you are a traitor to your government and to your species. It means that you have been sentenced to a lifetime of comatose in three days’ time.”

She could only gasp at this callous declaration of her own execution. “I had no choice!” she cried out, her voice rising well beyond the respectable levels of volume.

Sobeck shook her head. “You could have allowed the enemy to kill you, made your death mean something! Instead, you chose to threaten our whole existence.”

This can’t be happening! “The Elites can be our allies!” she insisted. “With their help, the war could be over in just a few months!”

“The Elites,” Sobeck growled, “Eagerly led the attacks on Reach, on Coral, and countless other worlds. Trillions of human lives are gone because of the split-jawed slavers. If we willingly ally ourselves with them, do you think people would stand for it? While you’ve been off in space, the Covenant has assaulted our homeworld, leaving us to deal with the panic of billions in this bloody massacre. If we ‘make nice,’ guess how long it would take for the rebellion to start? Then how long would the war take?”

“No, no,” she mumbled. “People wouldn’t rebel! It’s our compassion that makes us human! The people of Earth will recognize that the Elites were deceived by the Prophets, and they will be able to forgive them enough to make an alliance work.”

“The Covenant has landed on seven continents, slaughtering every civilian. They are relentless. They hack their prisoners to pieces, rape them, force them to…” Sobeck trailed off, shuddering with revulsion. “…Our only morale has been built on hatred. We have nothing more to motivate our people than a rage for revenge. They will not stand for ‘compassion.’”

“But…”

“In any case,” Sobeck interrupted, “It is not my decision, and theirs is final.” She glanced at her data pad. “You will be taken to a holding facility where you will wait out your time until the procedure. If you worship any deity, now would be the time to pray.”

“No…” she moaned. “This isn’t… I’m not a traitor! You can’t do this! I am a servant of the United Nations! I have never–!” she broke off as a neural-inhibitor collar snapped around her neck, cutting off any further action she may have wished to take.

Sobeck winced sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Commander. There’s nothing I or Colonel Ackerson can do for you. That will be all,” she told the guards.

***

Colonel James Ackerson smirked as he watched the holovid of Keyes being carried away, immobilized. About time she got what was coming to her. “Very nice show, Rani.”

“Thanks, boss,” his assistant nodded, her well-composed face betraying a cringe as she watched the image of Keyes carried about like a doll. “Anyway, sir, GARDENER wants a confirmation on Operation: EXODUS as soon as possible…”

Ah, yes, the Grunt revolution. Although its concept was quite unusual, there were a number of advantages to gaining this fifth column, not the least of which was securing defeat over the Covenant. In addition, an act of freeing slaves evoked the roots of the UEG’s ideals and was highly good for morale. “I’ll send him an answer in a few minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” She glanced briefly back at her data pad, what he knew to be a deceptive action to cover her rather exceptional memory. Perhaps she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to get a husband if men knew how capable she was. In any case, after pretending to refresh her memory, she continued, “General O’Brien reports that all traces of High Charity have been destroyed save for a bit of flotsam.”

“A pity,” he commented, even as he inwardly laughed at Harper’s foolish outburst. “We could have gained a lot from the technology.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” she assured him. “I’m sure the intel from the Monitor will be far more valuable.”

He smiled as he remembered the acquisition of the Forerunner AI. Then it faded as the latest fuck-up came into his thoughts. “Tell me about the Ark.”

“Sir. At 0322 MST today, shortly after the Covenant separatists violated our agreement, the Ark emitted a powerful beam of energy, which struck Luna and affixed itself to her surface, attaching the moon to the Ark. The Monitor indicates that this was a preparation for the activation of the Array. However, it would appear that the Elites halted the activation during their assault on the Forerunner dreadnought, sir,” she recited with only the barest glance at her pad, which he was sure would currently tell her details no more relevant than the current time and temperature.

He sighed. Far too close for comfort. To say nothing of the potential global effects from Luna’s halted revolution. “Can the Monitor deactivate the beam?”

“Only from within the Ark and with a human escort, sir.”

He swore a long string of curses. Should have ordered an attack the instant they breached Earth realspace… But he began to reconsider as he thought about it. No, this just lends credence to what must be done. “Alright,” he decided. “I’ll green-light EXODUS.” The Lord is a man of war…

***

“Misriah Amory, Mare Erythraeum. I have to get there as soon as possible,” Kader insisted forcefully.

The commercial pilot eyed the ONI tattoo visible on his arm, but shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr.…” she glanced at her chatter, which read Kader’s false persona, “…Davis, but there is nothing I can do. The UNSC has forbidden off-planet travel, and conditions as they are I wouldn’t dare attempt it even without restrictions.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. This is an urgent matter of multinational security! I must reach Misriah as fast as possible, as discreetly as possible…” He lowered his voice, “I don’t want to endanger you with certain information, so let me simply suggest that certain spooks in the higher workings may show some sympathies to the rebel forces…” Meyer would kill him for making that joke, though he suspected Mal would laugh. He wondered if either of them was still alive.

“…Be that as it may… Unless I get official authorization from the UNSC, my bird is planet-bound,” the pilot refused. “Now, unless you have to be somewhere urgent under blue skies, I suggest you find another spaceport.”

Sighing through gritted teeth, he thanked her and hurried off. Though he was pretty sure Oshiro had refrained from reporting his severe violation, it was only a matter of time before ONI would find out and track his Shark submersible to Hokkaido. The Covenant was focusing their attacks on continental landmasses and largely ignoring islands, making the industrial archipelago country an excellent site of wartime production. He figured his best bet from here was to grab a ride to Mars, where the URF presence was high. So, after taking a train to Tokyo with a constructed grid persona, he immediately began looking for a suitable spaceship.

He glanced back at the shuttle, a small commercial transport with COBB Industries stamped on the side, and considered whether or not he should try to steal it. Ultimately, he decided against it. Any criminal activity would stand the chance of putting him on their radar. There was going to be enough fun getting past the Covenant without worrying about the UNSC blowing him out of the air.

No, he would have to do this legally. Or at least rely on good old-fashioned sneakiness… He paused in his step as the ground began to quiver underneath him. He turned around to see if any shuttles were launching, but instead witnessed people running for reinforced locations.

Earthquake, he realized. He knew this part of the landmass was host to a fault, known to spawn earthquakes from time to time. He started to make a run for the reinforced hanger threshold, but halted as the ground quieted.

“Not even in the 4.-range,” muttered a nearby worker.

Kader nodded at him politely, and then continued. The earthquake, although fortunately harmless, had ‘shaken’ him a bit. The world is a crazy place these days… The Covenant invasion, to say nothing of his espionage FUBAR, was enough to drive anyone over the deep end, and he mumbled a brief prayer under his breath.

Inexplicably, he began to recall myths that held an earthquake as a portent, heralding the end of the world. Shut up, brain, he inwardly grumbled at himself. But still, perhaps there was something to it. For what better to bring about apocalypse than what was taking place?

***

He had saved the world.

Consus had to marvel, simply marvel at what he had accomplished. “I, Consus, bloodmate of Aeson, bested Cronus and saved the world.”

He grinned. No point in bragging to myself. After feasting on the former High Chieftain’s brain and testicles (symbolically inheriting his intelligence and fertility, respectively), he donned the powerful armor and claimed the scythe as his own.

Clad in this masterful dress, he strode purposefully through the Ark, ruler of all its depths. Recognizing the glyph for outward transmissions on a wall that had the appearance of a seamlessly sealed doorway, he tapped the icon with the tip of the scythe. The Chieftain’s tool functioned much as the Fist of Rukt had, and the wall melted away into an opening through which he could step.

Inside was a room of beautiful silver. Highly reflective metallic panels surrounded an intensely dark, black bowl, into which he surmised he was to stand. Admiring his appearance in one of the mirror-like panels, he stepped down into the bowl.

He felt a twinge of nervousness as he stood on the unusual surface. The bowl was as black as the Shadow Sea, and seemed to absorb all light that shown upon it. Colorless, featureless, it reminded him of the tales of the Vrouw cult, an insane group of females said to possess hypnotic eyes that they would use to lead good males out into a secluded region to liquefy their entrails…

Ripping his gaze away from the blackness, he gasped as his face grew hot with increased blood flow. How… long was I staring? he thought wildly. This place…

He looked up to a globe suspended above him, inscribed with a complex geometric pattern, and tapped it with the blunt of the scythe. The globe illuminated, holographic controls spilling out around him. He studied it carefully, identifying it as what he had suspected: a communications chamber.

There were so many glyphs, many of them unfamiliar to him, and he proceeded with care. “Hmm,” he mused to himself. “On which channels shall I broadcast?” Why not… all of them? He made the necessary adjustments and, collecting himself, activated the transmission.

“Jiralhanae of the Covenant!” he cried, straightening proudly with a High Chieftain’s weapon held in each hand. “Know that Cronus has been slain in honorable combat and I, Consus, have ascended to the noble rank of High Chieftain. The first bloodmate in history to do so,” he added as an aside. “As leader of all Jiralhanae warriors, I declare war with the Sangheili officially concluded. The Covenant is friend to no Jiralhanae and shall be destroyed, their remnants crushed. Any who shall declare loyalty to the organization dedicated to our slaughter, shall be killed as a traitor. Separation is the only path for all true warriors…”

As he spoke, he felt Aeson’s spirit fill his blood. Though he was dead, he spoke now in little whispers, encouraging Consus to take his place in the Jiralhanae hierarchy. We have fulfilled our duty.

Consus crossed the scythe and hammer, creating a stance of power. “I have achieved ultimate power!” he roared his dominance to all Jiralhanae warriors. “Submit to my authority or die screaming!”

***

The Sangheili inside the Enlightened Soul’s control center were absolutely delighted when their Jiralhanae ally appeared above the controls, commanding separatism be adopted. Even Jitji breathed a sigh of relief. Though a Sangheili/Jiralhanae alliance made a formidable enemy, the Covenant… was just horrifically destructive to everyone. Like the Forerunners were.

“If Consus has defeated Cronus, then the Ark has been halted,” the Ship Master stated. “But we cannot relax just yet. The Flood remains a constant threat.”

“The Flood is contained in Ascension,” the Arbiter informed them. “A formation of Banshees keeps it from exiting the craft.”

“Ascension is not our only concern,” ‘Setfethee said. “High Charity has been destroyed from within, its shards descended to Earth. It is up to the Humans to see to their destruction now.”

“Do not worry,” the Arbiter said. “Cortana assures me that the Office of Naval Intelligence shall soon recognize our good will and accept our assistance.”

God forbid! Jitji shuddered. If the Humans would act alongside the Separatists, his revolution would be over before it began.

“I believe it is not vital to keep Ascension intact,” ‘Setfethee mused. “If Cortana believes the Gravemind wants it for some greater purpose, it is my, hm, suspicion that we would not wish to see it operable. Therefore, I will recommend its destruction…”

“I’m afraid that’s quite out of the question, really.”

Jitji turned his gaze back on the viewer. The image of Consus had vanished, replaced with one of a Human, male from the looks of it, the Monitor of Installation 04 floating beside him. This is it.

He felt deep within him that this was the moment in which the future of his people would be decided. Either this Human would expose his plot, ensuring their continued bondage for a great many more cycles, or… Or they will have accepted us as allies.

The Arbiter bowed to the figures. “Colonel Aakersen, 343 Guilty Spark,” he greeted. “I wish to apologize for my rather flagrant violation of our earlier agreement. However, I am certain you can recognize the urgency of the threat presented by the Prophet of Truth in light of the display produced from the Ark, and I trust that you will allow us to complete this task we have undertaken. Let us help you defeat the Covenant and, most importantly, the Flood.”

“The Flood has been taken care of,” Aakersen said with a dismissive wave of his hand. ''“Your mothership blew up, and the pieces were cascaded with atomic fire. There is very little chance even one spore could have survived. In light of that very small chance, we have Sharks prowling the waters and Shortswords guarding the skies. Believe me, the Flood is of little importance. What is of importance is your continued presence on Earth. I suggest you leave our atmosphere within the next ten minutes, or we will open fire.”''

“The Flood are not contained in High Charity,” the Arbiter stated calmly. “The Gravemind was instrumental in our defeat of the Prophet of Truth, and currently resides within Ascension’s walls. That is where our trouble lies, you see. If my fleet should concentrate laser fire upon the Forerunner vessel, there is evidence she will break.”

“The Gravemind’s in Ascension,” Aackersen repeated with a sneer. ''“Of course it is. Of course… Ascension is very important to me, understand? You will not destroy it! You can purge the Flood, Monitor?”''

“With extended Sentinel support, I believe I can,” it reported. “I may require Reclaimer support to maintain an advantage.”

“Yes, leave the ship alone,” Aakersen returned to the Arbiter. ''“My Sentinels can handle the Flood. If you wish to keep our relationship pleasant, you will leave Earth at once!”''

“Colonel Aakersen,” the Arbiter bowed in a gesture of deep respect, “I beg of you to let us assist further in the matter of the Ark. Its threat casts a dark shadow on all living creatures. Truly, it is our duty as fellow members of life itself to see to its deactivation.”

Aakersen considered the Arbiter’s words. Finally, he relented. “Very well,” the Human sneered. ''“You may remain to assist in the Ark’s deactivation. However, you will not fire upon Ascension, nor will you defy the authority of any of my men. Is that understood, alien?”''

“It is,” the Arbiter agreed. “I thank you, and bid you happiness. The Ark shall not be touched by the Covenant, nor shall it be touched by Flood. We will ensure the beam vanish as if the day to the night, ensuring the safety of your worlds and ours.”

“You speak with exaggerated prose, Arbiter,” Aakersen noted with a chuckle. “We’ll see if that flowery speech of yours is backed by the Divine Providence to see you through to victory or if you fall flat on your split faces now, won’t we?”

Jitji’s spirit surged with the Human’s words. Divine Providence! That was the hint, the message he needed. The Humans were to assist him in his holy rebellion.

The Arbiter, however, was less approving of the response. “I suppose we shall, Colonel,” he said, one of his mandibles visibly twitching with annoyance. “However, I believe you will be pleasantly surprised with our performance.”

“Unlikely,” Aakersen scoffed. ''“You’ll be getting a few UNSC vessels in your skies to make sure you stay on track. Fire on them, and I will save your skull for my own trophy.”''

“Why would I fire on my allies?” the Arbiter asked in puzzlement, spreading his arms outward in a gesture of innocence.

Aakersen deigned no reply, instead terminating the transmission. The images of him and the Monitor vanished from the viewer.

The control center began to erupt in a flurry of discussion, but ‘Setfethee held his hand up high to silence them. “Confirm transmission is no longer active,” he snapped.

“Confirmed, Excellency,” a Major reported after a moment’s checking had passed.

“How in Prorok’s name did they connect without my authorization?” ‘Setfethee demanded of the room.

“It would appear that the Aakersen transmission rode in on the Consus beacon, Excellency,” the same Major speculated. “We do not understand the method used by the Ark, and the very name of the Office of Naval Intelligence suggests the ability to accomplish great tasks such as these.”

“When we send our people down into the Ark, let us begin our own investigation into the nature of the technology,” the Arbiter suggested.

“Arbiter!” Jitji broke in. “Arbiter, with your permission… I would like to send my own Unggoy along with your Sangheili. I have been helping them train, and I am sure they will be very helpful to your warriors.”

The Arbiter glanced at him. “Very well, Jitji,” he smiled, before turning back to ‘Setfethee. “I do not want to test our truce, but perhaps it would be wise to move our ships into position to fire upon Ascension.”

“Perhaps…” ‘Setfethee considered.

With a short bow, Jitji exited the control center and made his way toward his own warriors. This was excellent, all the pieces falling together. Doubtlessly, this was proof of a divine presence.

His mind passed over his borrowed memories, the tools God had given him to succeed. He winced as he remembered the horrors the Arbiter had forced upon him… upon Zagneit Nokisto. Another Arbiter, that is.

What does it matter, anyway? They all might as well be the same person. After all, it was the same institution delivering the same crimes upon the same people. It did not truly matter that the Wajoli Arbiter was different from the one he knew, nor did it matter that Jitji was not his ancestor. The battle remained the same, even after all these years.

My people were once free, now they are not. The Sangheili had seen to that. We were once great, but we have fallen…

No more. He clenched his fists so tightly they ached. ''We’ll shake it off and rise once again. With God on our side, we cannot lose.''

***

Consus stood as impressively as he could muster as he maintained the Ark’s main opening by holding the scythe through its length, allowing the numerous Sangheili to enter. Not quite the job he imagined worthy of a High Chieftain, but the facts remained that much of the Ark was still inoperable. He supposed it was good, then, that there were scientists here to study it.

Why couldn’t Jiralhanae scientists have come? he lamented as Unggoy carried equipment inside. He wondered briefly why the Unggoy were carrying so many pieces of long-range weaponry, but didn’t focus on it. For all he knew at the time, it was an insignificant detail.

Finally, the Arbiter stepped through and Consus let the hole close, vanishing the reflected glare of the Ark’s energy. “Arbiter,” he greeted the Sangheili, nodding his head respectfully.

“High Chieftain,” the Arbiter nodded in return. The Sangheili looked him over briefly, and then got down to business. “The Humans have been… This Aakersen has been most belligerent. It is probable we are to be let here only a small time, during which I hope to collect as much information on the Ark as we are able to do so. The beam, do you know how to deactivate it?”

“That which binds Earth to her satellite?” he queried. “I believe I do. The main control panel appears to be based on the standard Abiri sequence. Cronus’ hand motions are marked with the blood he poured upon it. To deactivate it, I would run my hands in the opposite sequence.” It was very simple. Anyone who had gazed upon it as he had would doubtlessly come to the same conclusion.

“Indeed? That is an interesting hypothesis,” the Arbiter noted. Lowering his voice, he added, “It is also probable that the Humans should force us to leave the instant their satellite is freed. In the interest of science, I should ask you to consider your hypothesis with great care before putting it to the test.”

He smirked. “Very well, Arbiter. I suppose there may have been something I overlooked…”

“Then we are in agreement.” The Arbiter smiled a Sangheili smile, his mandibles lightly spread apart. “Hypotheses should be considered for a good length of time, I would think. The Humans may become impatient, however, so it would be best to keep such a length minimal so as not to upset our hosts…”

“So, long enough to study, but not too long Aakersen decides to cut off our arms?” he confirmed.

The Arbiter nodded, his mandibles spreading wider in a greater smile. Then the smile died. “The Covenant has been cut off at the head, their leader destroyed. However, the Flood have taken Ascension, and Aakersen has forbidden me to fire on it. I need you to lead your warriors. Should I fall or be chased away from this planet, I need you to ensure the Flood do not escape.”

“I’m sure I did not hear you order a Jiralhanae High Chieftain,” he said dryly. “Because no Sangheili would be foolish enough to believe he holds power over the Jiralhanae race.”

“Consus!” The Arbiter sighed. “This is no time for power games between you and me. I am sorry you have suffered… but there will be times better than this one to assert your authority. Please trust me, comrade. Do as I say. For all our sakes.”

He narrowed his eyes at the Sangheili’s rather personal turn of phrase. “I suppose you’re not so bad,” he considered. “Very well. Aakersen kills you, I destroy Ascension.”

The Arbiter bowed his head gratefully. “Remain here and consider your hypothesis,” he spoke again. “I should return to the control center.”

He nodded, and tapped the symbol to open the entrance. The wall shifted, a hole expanding out of nothingness like a respiratory orifice of some titanic living creature taking in a great breath. Are we its meal or its parasites? Either way, the imagery was very disturbing.

“Jitji!” the Arbiter called for his pet Unggoy.

It hurried over obediently, another one trailing behind. “Yes, Arbiter,” the Unggoy chirped. It turned to its fellow and muttered, “Maintain discipline, Gedeg.”

“Farewell, Jitji,” the Unggoy called Gedeg murmured, casting Jitji a look of such loving adoration Consus had to smile to himself.

Ah, the naivety… He rolled his eyes. Stupid Unggoy.

The Arbiter bowed once more, and then left. His Unggoy followed.

Sealing the hole behind them, Consus glanced at the remaining Unggoy and gave a sharp growl to get it moving.

Gedeg, however, remained where he stood. The Unggoy simply cocked his head to study Consus with a haughty look of superiority.

“Don’t you have duties?” he growled.

Gedeg nodded slowly. “Much to do…” The Unggoy hurried off, noticeably keeping to two legs.

He shook his head. The Unggoy were certainly behaving… oddly. Or maybe it’s just the Ark.

He was having the strangest tension in this place. He knew that there was really nothing wrong, that it was probably all in his head… But!

But he couldn’t help but feel anxious in this dim, shiny chamber. It was if a strange buzzing were occurring in the back of his head without any actual sound. Or it was as if his vision was becoming fuzzy… only it wasn’t. He truly sensed nothing…

He sighed. It mattered little. He just needed to wait until the Sangheili could record whatever they could before he freed the satellite and could be himself free of the Ark.

Strolling through the rows of Sangheili, all studying the many facets of the room, he took it upon himself to start chanting a wordless hymn to help aid the scientists in their work. “Ohhhhh,” he sang his love for the Forerunner might. “Ohhh. Ohhhh. Ohhh. Oh…”

A Sangheili Major smiled, and joined in. “Ohhh, ohh…”

Soon all among them were united in harmony. It was a marvelous moment in which he could finally relax and feel at peace. Though the Covenant was doomed, Sangheili and Jiralhanae did not need to be enemies. In fact, this could be the dawn of a wondrous new era of friendship…

It came as a shock, then, when the Major was all of a sudden brained before his eyes. The first indication of the aberration came with a metallic sound that met his ears. The flash of a particle beam had pierced the Sangheili’s body shield, helmet, skull, and brain.

The body slumped down.

He vaguely registered the song abruptly come to a halt. Now, as if a new rhythm sung by a violent foe, more shots rang out in close succession. The Majors were the first dead, the Minors but secondary targets.

Unable to fight with two weapons that each required two hands to operate, he dropped the scythe and brought the hammer full into his grip. Engaging the enhanced body shield, he backed speedily away from the slaughter that took place. The Sangheili were doomed, their movements disorderly and scared.

When the last Sangheili corpse impacted the ground, he halted his backward retreat. Aiming the Fist of Rukt in the general direction of the enemy, he waited. After a short pause, one which felt considerably longer to his tense mind, they appeared.

Unggoy.

The killers were all Unggoy. They emerged in tiered groups: plasma pistol wielders in front, fuel rod gun wielders in back. He was sure that one Unggoy, Gedeg, led the attack from somewhere off in the shadows behind them.

“Prorok’s blood,” he swore. Aeson, you were right… He had been a fool to underestimate them.

Now he stood, the last of the Arbiter’s warriors… He laughed to himself as he realized he counted himself as one of the Arbiter’s. Still, the Arbiter knew not what had occurred. He had to warn him.

He considered making an attempt to strike down the Unggoy rabble, but decided against it. If the shield could be broken by the blow of the Fist of Rukt, it could very well yield to the blast of a fuel rod. He would not simply allow these Unggoy to take over the Ark.

Turning, he made a dash for the radio room. Though he ran swiftly, he was aware of Unggoy giving chase. As he reached the doorway, he spun around and slammed the hammer onto the ground. The gravity shock sent his pursuers tumbling, giving him time to enter.

Closing the door behind him, he practically leaped into the bowl. For one panicked moment, he was sure he had jumped into an abyss, but was calmed as his feet impacted the solid surface. Bringing up the controls, he sent out a quick transmission on all channels.

“The Unggoy have turned on us,” he warned the world outside. “Treacherous vermin!”

His words were given punctuation as he heard the harsh thump of a fuel rod impact. The Unggoy were trying to break their way inside…

“The Sangheili party has been slaughtered,” he continued. “None survive. However, I do have a, ahem, hypothesis regarding the deactivation of the Ark: reverse Abiri sequence…”

A loud rumble began to emanate from the closed door. The lit glyphs on its face dimmed as the rumbling continued…

“Listen, I believe this to be the work of the Arbiter’s pet Unggoy. This may not be the only incident. The Unggoy may be revolting…”

The door’s color was steadily brightening from its dull bluish silver to a glowing red, as though the metal were rapidly being superheated. A circle of white grew in its center, orange radiating outward from it.

“Be on your guard,” he warned, terminating the transmission and hurrying away from the door.

The metal shattered as a colossal beam of directed energy erupted, slamming into the far wall. He felt his skin become moist with sweat as the room temperature raised significantly. Aiming at the opening, he waited.

The beam died. Soon, Unggoy armed with fuel rod cannons crept from the opening like the verminous creatures they were. He fired.

The burst threw them backwards, and he ran for the opening. Before the Unggoy could recover, he slammed the hammer to the ground. The shock split their tanks apart, and likely shattered their bones.

Enthused by his success, he turned and ran through the opening. His vision instantly became alight with the glow of another directed energy beam, and forced his leg muscles to shove him up high in the air. In the split second he hovered above, he saw the attackers: six Unggoy, all together bearing the weight of the battle scythe.

He fired even as he beat against the scythe. The resulting shock wave scattered the Unggoy across the corridor. Their bodies crumpled as methane detonated in minor explosions.

There was only a moment to celebrate his victory, for a fuel rod at once crashed into him. Though he stumbled, the powerful energy shield of the High Chieftain did its job well, leaving him whole. As the green fire drained away, he saw the mass of Unggoy coming for him.

Suddenly, he found their always great numbers disturbing. If there was another rebellion, then… There are quite possibly more enemies than there are weapons to arm them. They probably could not do that much damage, but now was not the time to fight a new war.

We don’t need the added weakness, he thought as he fired. His blast flattened many of the charging Unggoy, and he let out a barking laugh. “Do you truly think you can stand victorious? Surrender yourselves now, and I will ensure your deaths be painless and without suffering.”

The Unggoy paid him no heed, and just kept charging forward blindly. The similarity to the Flood did not escape him, and he frowned. “You cannot hope to succeed,” he called again. “Do your families a favor and surrender to your stronger–”

A flash of a particle beam struck his shield, sending electrical arcs around him and causing him to shudder in unexpected pain. “What…?” he gasped, amazed that a particle beam should cause that manner of pain when even a fuel rod would not.

Another flash, and the Fist of Rukt fell from his grip. Dimly aware that his shield had failed, Consus looked up at his killers in shock. Is this how it ends?

Aeson, my love…!

***

“The Sangheili party has been slaughtered!”

Ship Master Lyla ‘Roholee lowered his mandibles in a skeptical frown. “Unggoy Rebellion,” he muttered. “This Jiralhanae would have us believe another to be taking place? Laughable.”

On cue, his warriors began laughing. So eager to please they make fools of themselves, he thought disparagingly. Although, as the Jiralhanae continued, he had to smile himself.

“Would you slaughter Sangheili?” Major ‘Nekalee, his tactical adviser, mocked a nearby Unggoy worker as it cleaned a console.

The Unggoy quickly shook its head in a denial and then scampered away, causing the control center to break into true laughter.

“Besides the Unggoy,” he laughed, waving the foolishness aside, “What is to be gained from this information detailing deactivation of the Ark? Presumably the Jiralhanae wishes us to go there to perform the deed ourselves… Could this Unggoy… thing… be a trick to lure us into a trap?”

“It is a definite possibility,” ‘Nekalee agreed. “If you recall, I was skeptical of this notion of alliance from the very start. It does not stand as an implausibility for me to believe that this Jiralhanae High Chieftain were to set a trap even in the heart of the Ark itself.”

“Indeed…” he sighed. “I should like send a query to Enlightened Soul at once. Major ‘Ylfaree, if you please?”

“Yes, Excellency,” ‘Ylfaree nodded. “Opening– Arrraaalllgh!” An explosion of luminous green fire erupting from a fuel rod ended his life mid-sentence.

He spun around, as did the remainder of his control crew, and opened fire on the enemies as they poured from the doorways: Unggoy. Dozens of Unggoy now charged them, firing a slew of plasma at his crew and him. Though their plasma rifles were powerful and directed, the sheer mass of plasma dumped out of overcharged plasma pistols made quick work of Sangheili shields.

What manner of trickery is this? was his final thought.

***

Almost immediately after the Arbiter arrived back aboard, a Minor arrived to tell him that he was summoned to the control center. This in and of itself was not an unusual event. What struck him as unusual was that ‘Setfethee had insisted he bring Jitji with him.

He cast the Unggoy a curious look.

Jitji looked back silently, refusing to divulge any knowledge he may have possessed regarding the summoning.

“We shall be there shortly,” he told the aide. He began striding toward the control center. “Come, Jitji.”

Jitji followed without a word.

When they entered the control room, he was surprised by the actions of a Sangheili Major, who leveled a plasma rifle at the Arbiter’s Unggoy servant, only to be waved off by ‘Setfethee. “What… has occurred?”

“When you left Consus, what was his temperament?” ‘Setfethee asked instead, avoiding his question.

“He was… agreeable,” he supposed. “Filled with happiness at his achievement, as well as his usual cockiness… What is this about?” He glanced at Jitji, who remained calm throughout what he would think to be a tense moment for the Unggoy.

“The Jiral–” the Major began to exclaim in anger, only to be silenced by his Ship Master.

“Consus sent out another transmission,” ‘Setfethee explained. “Perhaps it is best you simply view its content…” He activated the recording.

The Arbiter stared at the hologram as it played out his ally’s final warning, the Jiralhanae’s face tense with fear. “Unggoy revolt?” He looked to Jitji for answers. “Is this true?”

Jitji took in a deep breath before responding. “It is,” he answered simply.

“What?” It took several seconds before the Arbiter could process what had been said. When he did, he drew his sword with a fiery anger. “Is this how you repay a debt of mercy?!”

“You are a fool…” The Unggoy began to laugh hysterically, stammering in a high-pitched voice, “You are a servant of evil, Arbiter! What I do now is nothing less than the fulfillment of free will, morality of the one truly divine.”

Jitji then laid his hands on his air mask and ripped it from his face. “I would rather die free,” he gasped on air that was deadly poison to him, “…Than I would live… in… bondage…” He collapsed to the ground, jerking in spasms as he asphyxiated.

The Arbiter stared at the Unggoy as he died. When Jitji at last twitched only from reflex and not willful intent, he sighed aloud at this tragedy he had allowed to transpire from his simple act of mercy. “Perhaps the Prophets were wise to keep them bound to their Milk…”

‘Setfethee stepped over and kicked at the corpse. “Have that taken to the food supply,” he muttered to a Minor, who hurried to obey. “It matters little now,” he spoke to the Arbiter. “At least let us take consolation in knowing that Jitji’s rebellion is small and contained. The original Unggoy Rebellion was far worse, making up all of the High Charity Unggoy. Jitji had, say, a fraction of a unit to plan a revolt using only the combined Unggoy strength of the Enlightened Soul? It is a mess we can clean up swiftly.”

“Consus was greatly distressed,” he disagreed. “He would not use lightly a term such as ‘slaughter.’ No, the Unggoy attack must have been great indeed to arouse such fear.”

“You gave it the rank of Sergeant,” ‘Setfethee reminded him. “Unggoy are such communal creatures regardless. Their groups characteristically speak with one mind, one voice… The Prophets once directed their voices with the indoctrination they visited upon us all. It is rapidly becoming apparent to me that we lack clear understanding of the social structures in place, nor have we sought to replace them with any form of elegance…”

“We must regain control as swiftly as possible,” he decided, growling at Jitji’s betrayal. “Send a team to the Ark. Send everyone we can spare! Request additional support from our allied vessels. Once we reach the Ark, kill every Unggoy on sight. No sense in allowing this social disease to continue to spread.”

“Agreed,” ‘Setfethee nodded. “I would also wish performed a sweep of the Enlightened Soul to cleanse our ship of hostile Unggoy,” this he directed at his easily provoked Major, who eagerly moved to lead such a sweep.

The Arbiter glanced down at where Jitji’s discarded gasmask lay upon the ground, forgotten by the Minor. He knelt down to retrieve it, and held the object in his hand. He turned it over and over, studying its various facets.

He had felt such pride… Jitji had been an experiment, he knew that. However, what satisfaction he had felt from believing he had created an era of unity across boundaries of species now drained away from him, leaving him cold and empty. It was not just the Unggoy, but the Humans, and the Jiralhanae. Four species he had hoped to align now receded far away. And the Flood…

He shook his head. Thrusting the mask into the hands of another Minor, he strode up the ramp to set his gaze on the viewer. Forty-two separatist ships hovered around the edges of the Ark, its energy beam as powerful as it ever was, while the faint outlines of Human ships were visible on the periphery, encircling their formation. Then, as he watched, a separatist ship began to deploy plasma torpedoes bound for… Ascension.

“What in…” He flipped his fingers across the controls, quickly opening communications with the ship, labeled as the Agonized Devotion. “Agonized Devotion, terminate your attack at once!”

An angered Ship Master appeared above the viewer. “Arbiter,” the Zealot shook his head in frustration, “You do not understand! The Unggoy will–”

The hologram vanished as light leaped from the viewer. Another ship, the Blessed Oblation, had engaged its engines to a degree not usually seen in atmosphere and crashed headlong into Agonized Devotion’s rear. The resulting explosion destroyed both ships, and threw their remains across the viewer’s span.

“Merciful gods…” ‘Setfethee murmured as he stared alongside the Arbiter.

“No,” he shook his head. “Nothing of the sort.”

As they watched, plasma torpedoes began to be launched from the array of ships, not at Ascension but each other. Hysteria was dominating their fleet. He opened communications with all nearby ships, and began broadcasting at once a message of peace, “Do not let fear take you! The Unggoy situation is under control! I want all ships to cease fire and–”

His message was cut off by another broadcast from the Ark. Consus, however, was gone. In his place stood an Unggoy, smeared with the dark blue blood of a Jiralhanae. “Arise, my brothers!” the Unggoy shouted, pumping a fist in the air defiantly. “Cast down the Sangheili!”

***

“Alright,” Ackerson smirked to Rani as they watched the footage of one of Jitji’s lieutenants. “That’s our cue.”

He tapped a key to bring Fleet Admiral Harper up on the screen. “Help the separatists clean up the remaining Covenant,” he ordered. “And then blow them out of the sky.”

“Yes, sir,” Harper agreed. “With pleasure.”

“Excellent,” he smiled, closing the channel. He brought up the tactical display, depicting the locations of the ships, stations, and heavenly bodies in relation to Earth. The Covenant ships were now heavily diminishing as they were attacked by both UNSC and separatist craft.

Rani got up and walked quickly toward him, slipping a pen out of her pocket. “Are you sure that was wise, sir?”

“Of course it was,” he smiled at her reassuringly. “Make no mistake, sweetie, Earth will last through this. She will stand triumphant while the aliens will fall. And with Ascension? Well, I don’t want to make outrageous promises, but–”

“Sir!” Hanno, an AI appearing in the form of a Yeti, projected its form in a nearby holotank.

“Damn it, Hanno,” he growled. “I wasn’t going to disclose anything confidential!”

“It’s not that, sir,” the Yeti shook its head. “ONI has confirmed via Slipspace monitoring that either a large object or a formation of ships is fast approaching Earth. Its exact nature is as of yet unknown, but it is likely to reach Earth within the next ten minutes.”

“Sir,” Rani repeated haltingly, playing with her pen in what he took to be a nervous habit, “Are you sure it is wise to lose an ally?”

***

“…The Grunts may be revolting...”

Ensign Michael Daniels smiled at the Brute as it screamed its warning, automatically translated by the computer. “Yes, B.K.,” he chuckled, “The Grunts are revolting. Plus, they’re rebelling!”

Ensign Pesce snorted. “Turn that off. We have more important things to worry about.”

He switched off the holotank. Swiveling his chair around, he took a peek outside the window. Shark Team Zeta was approaching one of the fragments of High Charity, what looked like a sliver of an apartment building. Squinting, he was sure he saw what looked like decayed growth. “Oh, yeah,” he nodded, crossing himself. “Definitely Flood.”

“Tiamat thinks so too,” Pesce agreed, referring to their team’s AI. His hands followed the same ritualistic pattern, combined with a hushed prayer. “Fortunately, nothing’s showing up on the scanner. Nukes killed it.”

“Thank God,” he murmured.

The Sharks moved into formation around the fragment. At the go-ahead of Petty Officer Second Class Elizabeth Murphy, they began coating the fragment with oxidized napalm. The liquid adhered to the alien metal, its intense heat burning away every remnant of the hostile parasite.

“Take that, you sons of bitches,” Pesce muttered.

He was inclined to agree, though he refrained from speaking. The briefing in which the Flood was revealed had to be the scariest one yet. An ancient alien lifeform so hostile it could consume all sentient beings? It was the very substance of nightmares. Who needs to make up stories about witches to get children to behave with creatures like the Flood in the world?

It was perhaps his feelings of paranoia that drew his gaze to the motion tracker. “Hey! Hey, we’ve got multiple contacts on the periphery!”

“What?” Pesce looked at the display, and then reported the find to the Petty Officer.

“Don’t worry about it,” Murphy reassured them. ''“Tiamat has identified them as ambient wildlife, our own counterparts: wild sharks. Blue sharks to be exact. They’re Endangered, so don’t shoot at them, understand? It’s fine. Proceed to next target.”''

“Blue sharks,” he repeated as the Shark formation set off for the next drifting piece of High Charity. “Are those deadly?”

Pesce shrugged. “Not sure. Don’t think so.”

''“Heads up, all! Life detected on section of debris. Tiamat believes it to be active…”''

“Roger that…” Pesce swallowed. “Daniels, the first sign of movement, blow it the hell away. I don’t care if it’s Endangered or not.”

“Don’t have to tell me that,” he nodded. He slipped his hands into the controls used to operate the firing system, and brought the interface up to his HUD. He ran a quick ammunition check. Okay, all six torpedoes, 1200 .50 caliber rounds, 853 gallons of EIF… We’re good to go.

As they approached the next piece of debris, he could see the lifeforms active against the metal. Unlike the ‘apartment’ of the previous debris, this piece was a smoothly curved nook. Resting in the center, squirmed a mass of living creatures.

Firing torpedoes would be too messy at this stage of the game. Likely to scatter the targets and make it difficult to kill each one. No, the best bet was to move in closer and then cook the lot.

So, they moved closer.

It was Ensign Sclesier who first figured it out. “Hey, it’s Hunters!” she called over the radio.

And it was. Hunters without armor, just huddled against the wall in a squirming swarm.

“Lekgolo eels, the base part of Covenant Hunters,” Tiamat confirmed. ''“No need for alarm. Their physiology renders them immune to Flood infestation.”''

“You heard the lady,” Murphy said. “Save your ammo for the Flood.”

Shouts of outrage emerged from the more defiant members of Zeta. Michael was in agreement with their sentiment, though he didn’t dare voice it on an open channel. Even with the threat of the Flood out there, the thought of letting a group of Covies go made him sick to his stomach.

“That’s enough!” Murphy snapped. ''“Forget the Hunter swarm! We will proceed to the next target now.”''

Pesce activated the radio. “Yes, sir, Petty Officer! And may I add, the Hunters won’t be getting out of this alive. What do you think attracted the sharks in the first place?”

A chorus of whoops met his statement. Michael himself certainly felt better about the situation. “That’s right,” he laughed. “Mother Earth = 1, Covies = zip.”

“That’s enough, fish,” Murphy snapped again, although she sounded in a better mood than last time. “Move to the coordinates Tiamat sent.”

So, the Sharks abandoned the Hunters, leaving them to the mercy of the sharks. While they were in transit, he flipped the holotank back on. The Brute had gone, and the generic ONI propaganda was playing. “Hey, what do you think about this ‘Free the Grunts’ shit they’re pumping out?”

Pesce shrugged. “Seems… odd.”

“Yeah, what the hell, ONI?” He rapped his knuckle against the tank, as if Minister Dunn would hear and answer him instead of repeating the same rhetoric. “You expect us to feel compassion for those pigs?”

“The Covies at Earth, maybe we need this,” Pesce suggested. “Our resources were stretched as it was with the Mars trouble, now this… The moon herself snared. The Flood… Maybe we need this…”

“Need what?” he scoffed. “A deal with the devil? Are you forgetting about the Draco III massacre? I don’t care if the Elites are slavers. The Grunts don’t have a shiny clean record themselves. Murderous pigs.”

“Look around, Daniels,” the other seaman sighed. “Reach has fallen. The Covies are at Earth. The Brutes, ah the Brutes, have pillaged us. The Elites at least have their pseudo sense of honor. The Brutes have none whatsoever. You know the survivors’ stories as well as me. The Grunts… are grunts. Their massacre is nothing compared to Sydney, to Washington, or to Pyongyang.”

“I don’t think you can compare massacres,” he objected. “The end result is the same: death. The Grunts killed millions of colonists, a blood count far higher than the citizens of individual cities.”

“Let’s get this straight,” Pesce snapped, letting emotion into his voice. “We’re at war. We’ve killed our share of Grunts, but that doesn’t make us murderers.”

“No, the Covenant started the war,” he shook his head. “They’re the bastards that–”

“The Prophets started the war,” Pesce interrupted him. “They’re the politicians, the ones in charge. The Brutes and Elites are the generals, and the Grunts are the footsoldiers. If they were enslaved like Dunn said, then they had no choice but to kill us. And for the record, the crimes against humanity the Brutes have committed are pure, unfounded acts of torture. The Brutes are a race of sadists, damned before they were walking…”

“I simply don’t understand this apologist attitude,” he broke in. “How can you even consider forgiving the Grunts for what they did?”

“I’m not,” Pesce denied. “The war has been brutal… There’s no forgiveness to be found except from the heavens. But… Open your eyes, damn you! We’re losing the war! We have to make that devil’s pact! To protect our families! The Grunts are a far better ally than the Drones, Jackals, Elites, or Brutes…”

“A devil’s pact is never a good thing,” he asserted. “There’s always a price to be paid. We ought not to be making friends with any Covie, even the slaves.”

Pesce said nothing more in response, and the Shark’s cabin fell into silence penetrated only by Dunn’s energetic preaching.