Five bucks says Sorran and Ahkrin fight without realizing who the other is. Also, have you considered moving your stories to HXC? With Bungie leaving Halo and all.

Hmm... what a turn this story has taken. Can't wait for the inevitable confrontation between brothers.

The thing I hate is that I have so many ideas for stories, but when I go to write them, nothing really turns out right. For example, I wanna make a story based on me and my friend's Spartan II's, but I only go about a paragraph or two before saying "Meh." and just playing it out on the games. Maybe it's because I have so little patience... So the idea of making such an awesome story such as this just mind blowing to me. I need to re-read it again.

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Gamer Whale Hey! You changed what they knew about humans! I was hoping Sorran would find it out in the temple...[/quote] You see, I thought that too until I read back through and realised that I had indeed revealed the humans were those the Forerunners left behind. So in the interests of continuity I brought it up again this chapter. I did originally have some stuff in with a fragment of Mendicant Bias in the temple, but I realised after writing it that it was really out of key with the tone of this story right now. Maybe later, though.

Hey! You changed what they knew about humans! I was hoping Sorran would find it out in the temple... Other than that, good stuff. And is Restraint gonna get 3rd honor guard, or is the Doctor prophet gonna get them? =P

Excellent Chapter. You have a sophisticated vocabulary that occasionally makes me stop to think about a few words you use. At any rate. I like where this story is going. I haven't been on B.net for a few months or so and I had some reading to do - There is two hours out of my day... but they were well spent.

"It's just... I lost someone I loved recently. I'm not sure if I'm ready yet. And there's... more too." Why can't she just say she's pregnant already? Her dads going to be mad, especially when he finds out Sorran, a 'heretic', is the father. [Edited on 07.30.2011 10:36 AM PDT]

This, is GREAT!

Once again, excellent chapter. God, I can't wait to see how this is going to turn out! The tension is certainly rising.

"The physicians say I am good," Savara's patient told her with a smile. She'd found out since her last visit his name was Dyl; no motivations for his death whatsoever. The constabulary believed that the poison had been meant for someone else, and that Dyl had just been unfortunate enough to mix up drinks. "Glad to hear it," she told him with a smile. He returned it. "Listen, lady..." he sought for a name. "Grymar'ii," Savara filled it in. Dyl frowned as he tried to place the name. "You're Imperial Admiral Grimacer's daughter," he at last realised with awe. Savara looked away; that was how she was always known. No matter what else she had done, or would ever do, she would always be known as Grymar'ee's daughter, child of the one who had commanded the taming of the lekgolo over half a century ago. "That's me," she forced out with a smile, busying herself with a chart. "I suppose then that if I asked you to dinner with me, you wouldn't accept?" Dyl asked with resignation. Savara blinked with surprise, looking up from her chart and feeling her throat constrict. "Oh... Dyl," she struggled, feeling terrible. "I'm sorry, but I can't." Her hearts ached as she saw the Sangheili's face drop like a stone, and he nodded sadly. "Of course not. You're the daughter of an Imperial Admiral and I'm... no-one. Forgive me, Lady Grymar'ii. I meant no offence." "No, it's not that," she protested, putting a hand on his softly. "It's just... I lost someone I loved recently. I'm not sure if I'm ready yet. And there's... more too." "I am sorry," Dyl apologised, face downcast. "I had no idea." "No, it's not you. It's me," Savara told him, turning away. "Maybe in the future," Dyl suggested hopefully. Savara smiled softly, releasing his hand. "Maybe," was all she said, before standing up. "I've got to go now, Dyl. I'll be back when they discharge you tomorrow. Again, I am truly sorry." "Do not worry," Dyl argued, trying to force a smile. "I will see you tomorrow, then." * * * "I... I cannot believe this," Ahkrin uttered with shock as the three hierarchs re-entered the chamber, dutifully followed by the Ossoona, Pel. All of them wore grim faces as they nodded. "Now do you see why he must die?" Truth asked him sadly, placing a thin hand upon Ahkrin's shoulder as he approached. Ahkrin looked again at the crystal, before affirming with a quick motion of the head. "When we joined the Covenant, we took an oath," he quoted. "Restraint has broken this oath. He is a heretic, worthy of neither pity nor mercy." "So then you will carry out this task we have assigned you?" Regret demanded. Ahkrin took the crystal out from the port on his wrist, and passed it back to Pel. "You will keep your promises?" he demanded suspiciously. "Clear my family's name, amend the law like you said, give Sorran a proper funeral? Protect Savara?" "We keep our word," Mercy swore, placing arms across his bony chest. Ahkrin thought long and hard for a few moments, before nodding. "Then I shall do it." "So it is decided," Truth spoke then, and Ahkrin could see genuine sadness in his face. "Restraint will die by your hand." "The High Councillor has let a few others into his circle of heresy," Pel informed Ahkrin. "Two of his honour guards; we believe them not to be on High Charity at this time. That concerns you not, we will deal with them upon their return. And an Unggoy who acts as Restraint's servant--" "An Unggoy?" Ahkrin asked with disbelief. "He would speak with an Unggoy of such severe blasphemy?" "Evidently so," Pel replied. "Kill both the High Councillor and his Unggoy, named Jajab. There will be other honour guards around his manor; neutralise them if needs must, but do your best not to kill them. They know not of their master's heresy." "Of course," Ahkrin nodded. "Anyone else?" "No," Truth told him. "Were this any other, we would perhaps merely imprison the heretic. But this is the High Councillor of Restraint. He holds great sway with the people. Were he to preach his lies to them..." "It would be a disaster," Ahkrin completed. "Restraint will have barriers set up around his manor, though. They will be near-impossible to penetrate." "I have taken care of that," Pel told him, passing him a small device. "Activate this and you shall have thirty seconds as the barrier deactivates. Know that once you do so, though, his guard shall be alerted to something being wrong. You must strike quickly." Ahkrin nodded, stashing the device into his belt. "That is what I do best," he told them all. "Remember your promises." "Ahkrin, you will be a hero after this," Truth told him, beaming. "All the Covenant shall know your name, and be grateful to your for quelling this threat to our divine search. No matter what lies Restraint feeds you at the eleventh hour, remember that you have seen the truth. Now go, with our blessing and the blessings of our lords. May you find your way to the path." "And you, hierarchs," Ahkrin reluctantly returned the blessing, before turning to leave, sure of his mission. It would pain him to strike down such a revered figure. But heresy was heresy. [i]My house named restored,[/i] he thought with reverie. [i]I could finally sire children without fear of them being outcast. And Sorran... I do this for you too. I owe you this much at least.[/i]

<[i]Inner sanctum of the most holy hierarchs Truth, Regret and Mercy[/i]> Ahkrin looked at the three hierarchs before him. Mercy, the philologist, constantly calculating. The oldest of the three, showed clearly by his ghostly-white hair and back even more arched than the other two. He needed anti-gravity systems merely to prevent the headpiece he wore from crushing neck. Regret, the warrior. Of the three, he was the one Ahkrin had the most respect for. Long before becoming hierarch to the Covenant, he had been a soldier. And unlike most San 'Shyuum, Regret had fought in the trenches alongside Sangheili. Even now his body was still lean with muscle, and the chair he sat in was used only as a formality. Ahkrin knew that concealed within his chair was a plasma pistol that could be used at any moment. And Truth. Truth. The bastard who had taken away his true family, then his adoptive father, and then Sorran. The three hierarchs were supposed to be equal, but everyone knew the Prophet of Truth was the true leader of the Covenant. The other two were simply limbs to be moved by him. There were no honour guards in the room. None save for Ahkrin and the three leaders of the mighty Covenant. Ahkrin supposed he should feel some awe, but found all he felt instead was mild distaste. With some reluctance, Ahkrin sank to the ground before them. "You may rise," Mercy croaked out. Ahkrin did so, looking them each in the eyes. "Noble Prophets," he greeted formally. Truth waved his hand dismissively. "That is not necessary," Truth rasped in that harmonious voice of his that was instantly recognisable the moment you heard it. "We know you, Descol'ee. You have no love for we. Understandable." Ahkrin looked down at the floor for a few moments, before looking back up. "Then why summon me here?" he demanded candidly. "Have you not taken enough from me already?" "Indeed," Regret concurred, rising out of his chair, his back straight and neck raised high. "And we are sorry that this has happened." "We would like to make amends," Mercy input slyly. "To give, this time." "No matter what you... give me, it will not bring the loved ones I have lost back," Ahkrin rebutted, trying his best not to shout with anger. "Of course not," Truth agreed, looking down upon him. The light of the room seemed to steer itself away from him, basking his figure in shadow. "But we can make the losses less painful." "Whatever you are suggesting, you must want something in return," Ahkrin stated, knowing how things worked. "Forgive me, hierarchs, but you are not exactly known for your charity." "You are most perceptive," Mercy remarked, and Ahkrin had the feeling he was being subtly mocked by the oldest hierarch. "We have a request to ask of you," Regret told him strongly. "You were once an assassin, correct?" There was silence for a few moments, before Ahkrin turned his head. "Those days are long in the past," he told them. "I am sure you could find an assassin elsewhere." "True," Truth admitted. "But they are all just mercenaries. Money is all they care about. What we need is one we can trust, one who has served loyally in the Covenant army for years, one whom we have... leverage upon." Ahkrin began to get an uneasy feeling in his stomach. "What kind of leverage?" he demanded, unconsciously balling his fists as though he were ready for a fight. The three hierarchs seemed to smile as one. "It must be difficult, bearing your family's name like the weight it is," Mercy spoke wryly. Ahkrin looked away from the burning gaze of the hierarch. "Sometimes," he confessed reluctantly. "What if we were to issue a formal pardon to your house?" Regret then said. Ahkrin looked up once more, hardly believing what he was hearing. "Give you land, prestige, the right for any children you have to bear your name. Let all know that to be a Descol'ee is to be of strong blood." "You could do that?" Ahkrin found himself asking. He had never really thought about the redemption of his house. He had always thought he would die with the same he had lived with. Truth nodded solemnly. "And your friend, Sorran. We would have his body moved from its current place of blasphemy and give him a fitting funeral, no expense spared. Not only that, but we would amend the law. Any Jiralhanae under the command of a Sangheili lance who disobeys the direct order of a Sangheili in the field would have no protection under the writ. Naturally we would also issue an apology to Sorran's memory." Ahkrin was stunned, then. "The Jiralhanae would not be happy with that," he argued, playing devil's advocate. "Is this target you wish me to kill so important that you would damage relations with them so?" "Yes," Truth breathed, eyes narrowing. "And course, we would protect the one your friend Sorran loved; Savara Grymar'ii." "What of her?" Ahkrin demanded. Mercy's brow rose then. "You do not know? Her father is attempting to bring her home, forcefully. She does not want to go. If you do what we ask, then we shall issue an official proclamation to the Imperial Admiral ordering him to desist immediately." [i]... protecting Savara. Sorran would want that.[/i] "Your leverage is considerable indeed," Ahkrin spoke then, and could almost feel the smug glee emanate from the hierarchs. "Who is this target you would pay so much to see dead?" "Do you agree to our terms?" Regret asked intently. Ahkrin shrugged. "Well that depends on who the target is, does it not?" The three hierarchs exchanged a look then, and nodded as one. "High Councillor Restraint," Truth told Ahkrin. The Sangheili gasped, stepping back a few steps. He shook his head violently. "No deal. The High Councillor is a great man. Why do you want him dead? Because he challenged your dictating rule?" he taunted a little, playing with fire. Regret's eyes flared. "Do you think us so petty?" he demanded angrily. Ahkrin said nothing. "Restraint has committed high heresy of the utmost degree, Descol'ee." "That is indeed the case," Truth input smoothly, his face clouded. "Not only does he not believe in the Great Journey; he is also inciting others against the path, and is planning terrorist strikes against our holy Covenant." "I am sorry, hierarchs," Ahkrin shook his head. "But I cannot believe that is true." "You had better believe it," a new voice suddenly spoke, emanating from behind the large pillar in the centre of the room. Ahkrin looked towards it suspiciously. A Sangheili walked out, dressed in armour of the blackest night and a purple sash hanging from his waist. An Ossoona. The most elite of the Covenant's intelligence gatherers. "Who is this?" Ahkrin asked of the hierarchs, who moved aside to let the Ossoona pass. "This is one of our most trusted operatives," Truth informed Ahkrin. "Reun'ee," the Ossoona introduced himself assertively. "Pel Reun'ee." "For some time now, Ossoona Reun'ee has been within the household of Restraint," Mercy informed Ahkrin. "We suspected the High Councillor of some small heresy, but to our devastation we found that his blasphemy was powerful indeed." "Terrible that such a prominent member of our holy Covenant can be led so astray," Truth sighed. "And I am supposed to take the world of this... Ossoona? I doubt he has every drawn blood once in his life!" "It is not our place to kill," Pel informed Ahkrin, as if he didn't already know the role of the Ossoona. "We are the eyes. You are the hand which silences." "Profound," Ahkrin commented dryly, before frowning. "You have evidence of this supposed heresy?" "Of course," Regret affirmed, nodding at Ossoona Reun'ee. The other Sangheili stretched out a hand garbed in midnight, passing Ahkrin a data crystal. "Here is everything I found out," Pel told Ahkrin grimly. "It will not be easy to watch, but it is the sad truth. We will leave you in private whilst you discover the truth." With that, the three hierarchs and their Ossoona left out the main door. It slid shut after they exited, leaving Ahkrin alone in the dark. [i]This is insane,[/i] he thought as he inserted the crystal into the port on his wrist gauntlet. [i]Restraint a traitor? Impossible.[/i] But despite that thought, he still brought up the holographic interface before him and accessed the data within the crystal. Truth or lies, he would get to the bottom of the matter. * * *

Fleetmaster Thierr'ee was in his war room, sat around a table with the various shipmasters in his fleet. The number totalled approximately fourteen, the number of Covenant ships of signification within the [i]Fleet of Ambrosial Felicity.[/i] He felt out of place amongst them all. Not too long ago he would have taken orders from them. And now he was supposed to be leading them. And they all knew it. "Thierr'ee," the shipmaster of the [i]Parade of Asperity[/i] began, a condescending lilt in his voice. "Our Huragok were unable to extract much information from the wrecks that are the human information caches upon Eridanus II and in its orbit." "Cole devised the protocol," Zharn mused. "It makes sense that he would be adept at carrying it out." At that the [i]Partisan of Immaculacy[/i]'s shipmaster sniffed haughtily, clearing his throat unpleasantly. "When you are done praising the humans, Thierr'ee," he smirked with disdain. "We must devise a plan as to where to take this fleet next." There was a small chorus of laughter around the table at the shipmaster's snide comment, and Zharn forced himself to smile amiably. "Of course, shipmaster," he agreed in a pleasant tone of voice. "I see there are mentions of a supply route the humans utilised; Eridanus II was one of the vectors in this run. Perhaps if we were to scout the breadth of the route, some clue as to the location of a human colony--" "That will never do, Thierr'ee," a shipmaster on the far side of the table who Zharn could not quite place interrupted rudely. "Even if the humans have not already scrambled that supply route, were we to find a clue at best it would lead to a small farming settlement. Most likely it would simply take us to a small congregation of trading ships. Hardly a fitting task for the [i]Fleet of Ambrosial Felicity.[/i]" "Hear hear," another shipmaster agreed, and his words were echoed across the table. Zharn found his patience growing short. "Then what do you suggest?" he demanded bluntly. "Obviously a seasoned veteran such as yourself must have some inkling as to what to do next." "But fleetmaster," the other Sangheili uttered with mock indignation. "I could not in good conscience think to tell one such as you what to do." "Then why are you here?" Zharn asked angrily, his voice a harsh whisper as he gripped the edge of the table tightly. Another tittering of laughter. "To follow you, of course," the shipmaster replied with pretend servitude. Zharn looked at all of them with distaste. They stared at him back, each one eager for him to fall so one of them could take his place. Finally, Zharn broke his gaze and stood away from the table. "I shall look over the intelligence we have once more," he told them all shortly, gathering up the holodrones from the centre of the table which were displaying the information they held. "For now we shall maintain the perimeter on Eridanus II until I decide where next to take the fleet." With that, he turned to leave the room. "What more can you expect from an ultra?" he heard one voice speak loud enough for him to hear, and then heard the others laugh with him. [i]Enough is enough,[/i] Zharn thought with rage, drawing out a knife from his belt and spinning around, throwing the small blade towards the one who had spoken. It embedded itself in the wall a few inches above the shipmaster of the [i]Deluge of Diffidence[/i]. The Sangheili shrieked with terror as Zharn marched back to the table and pounded his fist upon it angrily. "Listen closely, all of you. I care not for your slanderous words or disrespectful looks, Like it or not, I am your fleetmaster, and you [i]will[/i] treat me as such. Any who have issue with that can challenge me. Let it be known, however, that you shall meet the same fate as my predecessor if you do," Zharn swore, looking them all in the eyes as if daring one to make the challenge. They all shrank away from his glare, finding something else to look at. Zharn laughed sharply with derision, before turning away and moving towards the exit of the war room. No more words were spoken behind his back. * * * "It is good to see you again," Convalescence greeted his old friend warmly. "You too," Restraint smiled, looking up at the minister with surprise. "You're still walking." "For now," Convalescence wheezed. "The years are taking their toll on me, though. Gone are the days when I would run across the battlefield and treat wounded warriors." "Well, you're looking a lot better than myself," Restraint told Convalescence, coughing a little. The minister nodded. "You have cancer," he observed, nothing how pale the High Councillor looked and how little body weight he had. "You're familiar with it then," Restraint remarked, staring out at the sunset over High Charity. The two stood on a balcony in the religious district, a wall of honour guards behind them. As the sun descended it cast its brilliance upon the dreadnought, which gleaned with vibrance. "How far along--" Convalescence began, interrupted by a wave of Restraint's frail, bony hand. "It's too far along now to be treated," he wheezed, huddling further into his blanket. "A few months left, perhaps. Maybe not even that." "Oh, gods," Convalescence uttered with horror. "I'm so sorry." "Don't be," Restraint assured softly. "But it's my fault," Convalescence protested, his head thrown into his hands. "I did not care for Obligation or Tolerance properly, and now they are dead. And soon you too." "Obligation and Tolerance didn't die of illness, my old friend," Restraint told the minister quietly, looking around to make sure they weren't being listened upon. Convalescence frowned with confusion. "W-what do you mean?" he asked, his face the very picture of perfection. "Of course they did. Believe me, my friend. My loss of so much stature was not for no reason." "They were murdered, Convalescence," Restraint told the other San 'Shyuum simply. Convalescence gasped, leaning back against the balcony as his mouth formed a perfect circle, lines crossing his face as he struggled with this revelation. Finally, he found his voice. "By whom?" Restraint sighed, looking one more time at the setting sun. At long last, he looked Convalescence in the eyes with pure sincerity. "My friend, do you remember the Sangheili you told me about many months ago? The one your assistant had fallen in love with?" Restraint asked with a small smile. Convalescence lapsed into some depression then, shoulders falling sadly. "Of course; Sorran. You know he is dead?" Restraint hesitated, thinking over his next words carefully. "Remember how you told me about his virtues? How he was loyal, brave, intelligent, and not blinded by honour and religion as so many Sangheili are? I think you were just proudly speaking of the man your dear Savara had found at the time." "He was all those things," Convalescence recalled with a sad, tender smile. "But why do you speak of him now? What of Obligation and Tolerance's murder?" Realising that before him was one of the few people in the worlds he could trust, Restraint knew what he had to do. "My friend, what I am about to tell you may shock you. You may not believe me. And I apologise for having to shoulder you with this heavy burden. But I think I too shall soon follow my fellow once-hierarchs into the abyss, and you are one of the few people I can trust to protect our future." "Go on," Convalescence urged, wondering deep down if he really wanted to know what the minister was about to tell him. "It all began many cycles ago, before this sad Ninth Age of Reclamation." * * *

[i]Knock, knock![/i] the door of Zharn's new fleetmaster quarters pounded heavily. He looked over at it wearily, through the translucent medium of the bottle he held, filled with a foul tasting human alcohol. "Enter!" he shouted, wanting to turn the person on the other side away but knowing it could be important. He was fleetmaster now, after all. The tens of thousands under his command relied upon him to be their leader. And here he was, sitting in the dark and feeling sorry for himself, drinking from a bottle. Hardly the ideal role model. He was faintly surprised when he saw Orpheus standing in the doorway as the door slid open with a chime and hydraulic hiss. Even further surprised when the Jiralhanae threw two lekgolo worms in his direction. They landed on the floor in a tangled heap, very much dead. "These two were assigned by Xatan'ee prior to his death to kill any who replaced him," Orpheus stated blankly. "I found them in the vents above these quarters." Zharn stared at the shrivelled eel-like creatures for a few moments, before frowning. "You fit in the vents?" he asked with a smile, drawing out a laugh from Orpheus. Ice broken, Zharn stood up and beckoned the Jiralhanae in. "My thanks, Orpheus. Many times now you have saved my life." "That is what friends do," the Jiralhanae replied with sincerity, taking a look around Zharn's new quarters. "Well, Fleetmaster Thierr'ee. Quite the place you have here." It was indeed. Fine carpets of deepest magenta lined the floor, inlaid with gold leaf. Embedded into the walls were small ornate carvings made from white marble, each one representing a different Forerunner cliff. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, suspended by anti-gravity technology. Encircling it was a holographic representation of a sacred ring. "I hate it," Zharn confessed. "All the pompadour and ritual that comes with being fleetmaster; I never truly wanted this, Orpheus. Give me my armour, a blade and an army to face on the ground and I'd be happy." "Sometimes life takes turns we do not expect," Orpheus professed gently. "I myself expected to be chieftain of another pack right now, resigned by the Covenant to lowly duties too meagre for Sangheili. Instead, I find myself friends with a powerful Sangheili who commands a large fleet." "Strange twists indeed," Zharn agreed, taking another swig from his bottle. "But I do not deserve any of this, my friend." "Why?" Orpheus demanded. "Because you could not match another with a blade? That does not mean you are not going to be a great leader, my friend. Do not dwell too long on what is done. Ahkrin had only the best intentions--" "Do not speak his name," Zharn interrupted coldly, eyes heavy as he thought of his once-friend. Orpheus seemed taken aback. "Anything he did, he did for you," the Jiralhanae told him forcefully. "Surely you must know this." "If he cared for me at all, he would have let me die." "That's absurd," Orpheus chastised. "And you know it. I did not know your friend Sorran, but did he too not die recently? Would you really have saddled Ahkrin with the loss of another one close to him?" "He would have survived," Zharn droned. "Ahkrin always survives." "Well, now he is gone," Orpheus stated bluntly. Zharn finally tore his gaze away from the drops of alcohol trailing their way down the almost-empty inner glass of the bottle, and looked up at Orpheus with what he hoped was nonchalance. "Where?" he asked in a neutral tone of voice. "To High Charity," the Jiralhanae told him. "He's been requested. And he may not return." "I don't want him here," Zharn snorted with disgust. "In fact, I may issue a proclamation throughout my fleet stating he is not welcome." "You do not mean that," Orpheus argued with a little anger now. Zharn shrugged. "Orpheus, I appreciate you killing the two lekgolo assassins. And your concern for my personal life. Truly. But right now, I have matters of importance to attend to. Starting with you on this fleet." Orpheus looked away then, darkness seeping into his gaze. "Of course," he murmured. "This is a Sangheili fleet. I almost forgot that I am not welcome here." "No," Zharn replied, placing his hand on the Jiralhanae's armoured shoulder. "I would like you to be the Jiralhanae liaison for this fleet. Your people are an important aspect of Covenant society now, even if some Sangheili take issue with that. And we must treat your people with respect should we keep the peace. With your help, I would like to take the first step towards that respect." Orpheus was stunned for a few seconds at the fleetmaster's suggestion, before breaking out in a great grin and nodding profusely. "It would be my honour, fleetmaster," he thanked, sinking down to one knee. "I pledge my allegiance to you." "I welcome it," Zharn replied. "I will discuss the details of your position later, my friend. For now, I must co-ordinate with the supreme commander and plan where we shall next strike the humans." "I hear very little was discovered on Eridanus II," Orpheus input. "The Cole Protocol," Zharn uttered with distaste. "One day I shall take great pleasure in spilling that man's innards on the floor. Until then, we will work with what we have. Small colony by small colony, we will one day find their homeworld." "And this war shall come to a swift and decisive end," Orpheus concurred. "Then perhaps we can return to seeking the sacred rings." "Salvation for all," Zharn agreed. He turned to leave, pushing all thoughts about Ahkrin and his shattered honour out of his mind. That was the past. Now he had new honour to forge. * * * Ahkrin looked at his two escorts; both Jiralhanae, their fur stinking of heavy musk. Not long ago he would have refused to walk alongside any of their kind. That had changed in recent times. Even so, he still had the feeling that the two taking him to meet the hierarchs were not nearly as sophisticated as Orpheus. "When was the last time you were at High Charity?" one demanded of Ahkrin brutishly, gristle hanging from his teeth unpleasantly. Ahkrin pushed the nasty connotations he instantly associated with that out of his mind. "Some months ago," he reminisced sadly. "My friend was accused of heresy, and sentenced to execution." "What was his name?" the other Jiralhanae demanded bluntly. Ahkrin ground his teeth together. "Sorran," he replied, looking at the corridor he walked through to avoid thinking about his late brother. It was as nondescript as any corridor on High Charity; purple of course, in keeping with much Covenant aesthetics. Several lights cast some small radiance upon the narrow strip, reflecting off the polished armour of the honour guards, most of whom had probably never fired a weapon in live combat in their life. At the end of the corridor, a large set of heavy doors sat which would open into the inner sanctum of the hierarchs, where they conducted private meetings. Suddenly, he heard nostrils flare from either side of him. "He was the one who killed one of us to save a human," the Jiralhanae escort on the left leered, the venom thick in his voice. Ahkrin tensed a little. "Something like that," was all he replied. "He was your friend?" the one on the right smirked, fists curling with anger. Ahkrin reached around his back and felt his fist wrap around the hilt of a knife he had managed to sneak past customs. "That he was," Ahkrin stated boldly. "And what he did was no heresy. I would have done the same if I had been him, with one difference." "Oh?" the Jiralhanae on the left demanded huskily. "I wouldn't have let myself get caught," Ahkrin smiled. The two Jiralhanae's fists balled then, and they wheeled around angrily. Before Ahkrin could do anything, five honour guards were already there. Staves raised, inches away from the Jiralhanae necks. "Know your place, curs," one of the guard spoke angrily. Ahkrin smirked at the Jiralhanae as they looked about with shame, wondering if they would be killed within the next few seconds. "I'll walk the rest of the way alone, thank you all the same," he told them, walking away from the cluster as the Jiralhanae were roughly escorted out by the Sangheili body guards. [i]What possible reason could the hierarchs have summoned me for?[/i] Ahkrin wondered as he walked down the hall. [i]Surely they must know I harbour no love for them. They killed my father, and my friend.[/i] Already he was regretting accepting the summons. Perhaps Orpheus had been right; he should have indeed stayed on High Charity, tried to reconcile his friendship with Zharn. [i]No, forget him. If he places honour above an entire lifetime of brotherhood, then I care not for him,[/i] Ahkrin tried to tell himself, but knew that wasn't the case. Even now, he knew he would still take a bullet for Zharn. Well, there would be plenty of time to make amends later. After he had completed whichever task the hierarchs would ask of him. * * *

Oh yeah. It's on. [b]Part 33 - The best intentions[/b] "Ahkrin!" Orpheus called out as he spotted his friend walking along the halls of the [i]March of Righteousness.[/i] The Sangheili turned his head to look at the Jiralhanae reluctantly, as if he wanted nothing more than to be alone. "What is it?" he asked tiredly, as he passed an inactive plasma grenade between his hands with boredom. The Jiralhanae slowed as he approached. "Zharn told me what you did," Orpheus began. Ahkrin rolled his eyes. "I care not for a slap on the wrist from you too," he replied coldly. "Then you shall not have one. But you have crushed his spirit, Ahkrin. He believes all his honour--" "Honour!" Ahkrin shouted scathingly, kicking the energy barrier which blanketed the large, opulent window. "Always with the honour. Every single day, honour this, honour that. When will he realise that honour means nothing? Honour did not save our father's life, or Sorran's life. Honour would not have spared his. I am done with his idiocy." "Don't be like that--" Orpheus tried to soothe, but Ahkrin waved his talk away. "In a few hours I will be gone anyway. Do not expect me to return," he told the Jiralhanae bitingly. Orpheus blinked, frowning. "Where are you going?" he asked with concern. Ahkrin scowled. "I've been summoned to High Charity. By the highest authority of the hierocracy." "What for?" Orpheus demanded suspiciously. Ahkrin shrugged nonchalantly. "The message did not say, I assume I shall learn when I get there." "But you hate the hierocracy," Orpheus protested. "I hate many things," Ahkrin retorted, smiling emptily. "Were I to avoid them all I would be running my entire life." "Ahkrin, Zharn needs you here now. He's started drinking--" "Then let him drink himself to oblivion," Ahkrin scorned. "It is as he said; I am brother of his no longer. Goodbye, Orpheus. Perhaps our paths will cross again one day." "Don't let it end like this," Orpheus struggled. "You and Zharn--" "Are friends no longer. Goodbye, Orpheus. May the sacred rings bless your path," was Ahkrin's reply, before he turned away coldly and skulked off. * * * "Feel free to look around," the philologist, surprisingly an elderly Sangheili rather than San 'Shyuum, told Sorran heartily. "Hem has assured me you will be careful." "Look with your eyes, Sorran," Hem reminded him sternly, before turning away to walk with the philologist as they caught up on the years since they had seen each other, leaving Sorran alone within the hallowed hall of the first temple. It was a marvel. An almost bastardised mixture of both ancient Sangheili architecture with scavenged Forerunner technology embedded violently into the walls. The rough rock with which the Sangheili had built the temple's walls were juxtaposed with the smooth, timeless curves of the Forerunners with their blue lights surging from within, grafted into the walls and floors. Primitive art was carved into the walls. Sorran approached the nearest piece, running his fingers through the grooves and dents with awe. Small stick figures with crudely drawn mandibles being the only indicator that these were Sangheili, stood next to taller, more graceful looking figures who could only be the Forerunners who had walked on Sangheilios. Small floating squares had to represent the holy warriors which guarded the Forerunners. [i]To have walked amongst gods... how amazing that must have been,[/i] Sorran wondered, a religious exaltation he had not felt in a very long time sweeping over him. [i]But why would such seemingly omni-benevolent beings create such destructive weapons as the 'sacred' rings?[/i] He pondered for the umpteenth this as he moved along the hall, examining the other carvings closely. One particularly interesting one showed a Forerunner stood over the corpse of a Dwaye'aa, one of the more particularly ferocious beasts upon Sangheilios. The Forerunner seemed to be stood in front of the Sangheili, as if it were protecting them. [i]Why did they leave?[/i] Sorran asked himself, walking along further. [i]... could they have fired Halo and perished in the blast?[/i] As soon as that thought struck him, he realised how ridiculous that sounded. [i]Of course not. Then we wouldn't be here, nor would the humans or any other races in the Covenant.[/i] He remembered what Restraint had told him that fateful night. That the humans were in fact those the Forerunners left behind. Sorran still had his doubts about that. Long had he studied the Forerunners... all indicators showed that their physiology was different to that of the humans; some clues they had left behind even hinted that some may have been over a dozen feet tall. Even the humans' daemons were at most eight feet tall. There was certainly a link between humanity and the Forerunners, one far stronger than the one the Sangheili shared with the divine beings. But Sorran did not think the humans were their descendents. Edging his way through the pillars, Sorran finally came to the greatest marvel the first temple held. Amidst all the carvings by early Sangheili, dwarfing them in both size and beauty. A piece of art wrought by the Forerunners themselves, majestic and as clear as it had been all those years ago. It showed a Forerunner garbed in their wondrous armour which the Covenant so sorely tried to emulate with its smooth curves and sapphire lights, shrouded in a light energy shield of the coolest purple. In his hand, a sword not unlike the one Sorran wore on his belt hung, radiating a soft cobalt beauty. He was stood in the unmistakable fields of Sangheilios, with chloroplasts in the grass blue to adapt to the sun of Helios. Stood around him were three Sangheili, naked save robes around their waists. Unmistakable in all their eyes was the look of pure adulation. The Forerunner depicted wore a helmet so it was impossible to see his facial expression, but the hand not holding the sword was resting fondly upon a Sangheili's shoulder. The Sangheili truly had loved their gods when they walked amongst them. Sorran could only imagine how devastating it must have been for them when the Forerunners left. "Beautiful, is it not?" a soft voice echoed from behind Sorran. He turned around, and found himself face to face with the temple's philologist. The elderly Sangheili shuffled towards him, and Sorran noted how the philologist had to use gravity manipulators to keep himself upright. "Stunning," Sorran agreed fully. "This was painted--" "Back at the dawn of Sangheili civilisation by one of our lords," the philologist enthused. "The Forerunners came here and found us as tribal beasts. When they left we had cities. Did you know that once Sangheili did not use Forerunner technology at all?" "Yes," Sorran smiled. "Until the San 'Shyuum came in their dreadnought. Angered by their transgression and heretical use of Forerunner relics, we struck. And they struck back far harder. The war waged on until eventually we found ourselves too using Forerunner technology to fight them. It was then we realised the whole reason for starting the war was pointless." "You're well learned," the philologist complimented. "I was once a scholar," Sorran said without thinking. The philologist blinked. "As well as an honour guard?" he asked with no little disbelief. Sorran suddenly realised how foolish the words he had just said had been. "Scholarship was a hobby of mine before I joined Restraint's guard," he lied hastily. "Now I find little time to study books and scrolls as I would wish to." "Ah," the philologist nodded, and Sorran let out a little sigh of relief. He had to be more careful with his words. Sorran continued to stare at the art for a few moments, before a question struck him. "Elder," he began tentatively. The philologist looked sideways at him. "Yes, child?" "If the Forerunners were to return now," Sorran mused. "Do you think they would be pleased with us? How we use their relics in every-day life, how we seek their sacred rings; how we war with the humans?" The philologist drew in a deep breath then, before finally shrugging. "I do not know," he confessed. "They must have left their technology here for a reason, and clues as to how to meet them on the journey. As for the war with the humans, I do not understand it. Why have we not accepted them into our holy Covenant yet?" Sorran knew exactly why. The humans were supposedly those the Forerunners left behind. Were the Covenant to discover this, there would be outrage. Half of the people belonging to the Covenant would want to worship them and the other half would try to destroy the Covenant infrastructure as repentance to the Forerunners. As much as he hated to admit it, the three hierarchs were doing the only thing they could do right now if they wished to keep the Covenant together and remain its leaders. Try to wipe out every single human and erase all evidence of their existence. But that couldn't continue forever. One day, there would come a time when revealing the secret Sorran held would not tear apart all he had ever known. Aloud, all Sorran could say was: "They are blasphemous, and misuse our lords' holy relics." "So we are to believe," the philologist thought over. "But then so did the mgalekgolo, and yet we eventually welcomed them to our collective. There is more to this war, Sorran." "Even if that is so, people like you and I shall never find out," Sorran joked, and that drew out a smile from the elderly Sangheili. "You would be surprised the things one with enough determination can do," he lectured. "Anyway, I have taken up too much of your time. Hem would like to see you, something about training needing to start." [i]Great,[/i] Sorran groaned inwardly. [i]No rest for the heretical.[/i] * * * [Edited on 07.29.2011 3:16 PM PDT]

Next part imminent, It's being proof read now.

I'm a little worried [i]Glasslands[/i] may contradict this quite a bit after listening to a podcast on it; it seems like it may focus somewhat upon Sangheili culture. Ah well, nothing stays eternal. I've realised I really need to brush up on my Halo knowledge; I've taken it upon myself to read through the books and play through the games again. The next chapter shouldn't be too long, it's about half-done right now.

Great Stuff, just started reading it all yesterday, rather annoyingly now I'll just have to wait for the next chapter.

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] me123456789 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Swine of War464 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] vI RaGeZ Iv Poor Ahkrin :( Nice work Wolvers! Oh, and what does flagellating mean?[/quote] why do I have a feeling you dont want to know......[/quote] It's flogging or whipping yourself, hardcore religious people are known to do it. Your pretty much punishing yourself.[/quote] The context around it made it sound like.. Well, it sounded suspicious. Thank God for online dictionaries.

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Swine of War464 [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] vI RaGeZ Iv Poor Ahkrin :( Nice work Wolvers! Oh, and what does flagellating mean?[/quote] why do I have a feeling you dont want to know......[/quote] It's flogging or whipping yourself, hardcore religious people are known to do it. Your pretty much punishing yourself.

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] vI RaGeZ Iv Poor Ahkrin :( Nice work Wolvers! Oh, and what does flagellating mean?[/quote] why do I have a feeling you dont want to know......

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] SociallyPsyco Amazing. I love the contrast in character's between Zharn and Ahkrin. Also, side note. I must have OCD or something, because when you said Zharn slammed the door, I kept thinking of all the sliding doors in Covenant ships.. Great story. I wish I could read the rest of it right now![/quote] I'm sure you could grab it and slam it shut, or hit a "SLAM" button like on Futurama.

Amazing. I love the contrast in character's between Zharn and Ahkrin. Also, side note. I must have OCD or something, because when you said Zharn slammed the door, I kept thinking of all the sliding doors in Covenant ships.. Great story. I wish I could read the rest of it right now!

Poor Ahkrin :( Nice work Wolvers! Oh, and what does flagellating mean? [Edited on 07.24.2011 3:26 AM PDT]

Great job on the duel, I could see it play out in my mind very clearly. This, truly, has been an amazing read, and I'm looking forward to how this story will culminate.

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Wolverfrog [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] The Seraphim [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Wolverfrog [i]True Sangheili[/i] has been a lot less spontaneously written than Insurrection; I've had a cohesive plot planned out since about the tenth part. Thanks again for reading everyone. [/quote] I hope that doesn't mean it will be short :O[/quote] It's about two hundred pages already, and should be a good length once finished.[/quote] Ah great! I could see such a story as this being published one day, It'd make awesome canon!

[quote][b]Posted by:[/b] The Seraphim [quote][b]Posted by:[/b] Wolverfrog [i]True Sangheili[/i] has been a lot less spontaneously written than Insurrection; I've had a cohesive plot planned out since about the tenth part. Thanks again for reading everyone. [/quote] I hope that doesn't mean it will be short :O[/quote] It's about two hundred pages already, and should be a good length once finished.