Wow, this was started in late 2009 and now it's 2011. With any luck I'll complete it over the upcoming months. Hopefully this chapter will tide you over for a short while. Enjoy. [b]Part 25 - Mutiny[/b] [i]Crack! Crack! Crack![/i] The deafening sound of multiple ships weaving their way into the void, which humans termed as 'slipspace.' Sorran thought the human term ironic seeing as how when the human ships entered the void they did anything but slip; a giant hole was literally blasted through into the other realm. Sorran had always wondered how the void functioned. The Covenant said that it was a divine path left by the Forerunners for their worthy successors to follow, and that eventually it would lead them to the Great Journey. The void seemingly wasn't all that holy if the humans were allowed entrance to it, even if they had to smash their way in. The mystical explanation was probably another lie, now that Sorran thought about it, just as the Great Journey was. [i]And if there is a more realistic explanation for the void then I imagine that the humans understand it,[/i] Sorran thought bitterly, once again lamenting the ignorant imitation of the Covenant. Theirs had not been a natural advancement as nature had intended it; advanced technology had been thrust upon them. With races such as the Jiralhanae, Sorran suspected that this would prove to be a dangerous move. They had originally achieved space flight without the Covenant and had nuked themselves back to the industrial age. Now, even more destructive weapons were available to them. Where was the logic? All throughout the city of High Charity, billions had stopped their monotonous, ignorant lives long enough to stare at the reinforcement fleet leaving for Eridanus II, through the giant energy barriers that dotted the colossal station, keeping oxygen inside. The vibrations of the huge cruisers and destroyers leaving shook the ground beneath Sorran's feet, interrupting the gentle hum of the Forerunner Dreadnought. "Look at what you've done," Jajab's bitter voice chastised, as the elderly Unggoy shook his head. Sorran was sat in his room, staring out from his window down at the crowds below. It fascinated him to think that every one of the millions he could see had a life as deep and intricate as his own had once been. Before the revelation of the Great Journey, that is. Sorran reached down to pick up the pot of herbal tea Jajab had practically thrown on the table, pouring a small measure into a energy cup. The condensed light curved into the shape of a mug, trapping the liquid inside the glowing nimbus as it fell. Another work of magic from the Forerunners that known of them wanted to understand. "What's wrong now, Jajab?" he asked, taking another cup and pouring it for the Unggoy. Technically Jajab was the household servant in order to keep things proper, but Sorran knew that if he even dared to treat him as anything but an equal he'd pay dearly for it. "You've made the Minister come out of hiding and speak out against the Hierarchs! Have you any idea about the danger you've put him in?" "Jajab, assassins have been visiting on such a regular basis that it's considered unusual if one doesn't come each week. How much more danger could he be in?" Sorran laughed, taking a sip of his tea. Not even the grouchy old Unggoy could temper his mood today; the fleet had left and would with any luck soon rescue Zharn and Ahkrin. "No good shall come of this, Sangheili. I suppose you did this all to help your friends out?" Sorran was surprised that Jajab had seen straight to the core of the matter, and paused mid-sip of his tea. "Partially," he covered, smiling. "It's a good thing on the whole though, right?" "Is it?" Jajab asked, standing up and shaking his head. "Whatever has befallen our 'warriors' at Eridanus II, such an event has no doubt allowed countless innocent humans to evacuate. And the fleet will interrupt that, killing all the rest. After all you've seen do you really believe the hierarchs when they say the humans are all heretics?" And with those words all the breath left Sorran, and he collapsed backwards in his chair, thinking truly about what he had done. He had saved Ahkrin and Zharn and thousands of other Covenant soldiers through pressuring Restraint to stand up in the Council... would this mean the lives of hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of innocent human men, women and children? "I-- the Covenant would have sent them eventually anyway," he argued, feeling shaky. "I just quickened an inevitable process." "Maybe so," Jajab answered gravely, shaking his white-hair tinged diminutive head with a grim smile crossing his wrinkled face, his breaths through the methane mask long and solemn. "But that quickening could mean the blood of millions on your hands, Sorran." Sorran just sat there, trying to justify it in his mind. Zharn and Ahkrin were down there. This was war. Zharn and Ahkrin were down there. His fellow Sangheili needed him. Zharn and Ahkrin-- The Sangheili Honour Guard stood up, tears in his eyes as he stared at the last few ships entering slipspace, the culmination of his efforts. They would save thousands of his people, and his two dearest friends... but may kill many, many more. [i]What have I done?[/i] "Yes, perhaps you now realise. When you are done epiphanising, the Minister requires you in the study. I believe the matter regards the stray you picked up, Pel. It would be wise not to keep him waiting." * * * * * * * * * Warden Amanda Norikov was not having a very good day. She had been planning on spending the night with a bottle of cheap alcohol that had been distilled on the ship. Drinking on-duty wasn't allowed, but it was the middle of the night and the officers were all busy dealing with the evacuation planet-side. The Covenant prisoners were locked away tightly and she had enough subordinates to keep order amongst them. Besides, drinking was the only thing that drowned away the sorrows which had been plaguing her since Adam's death. Norikov had walked over to the beaker on the table, full of a clear liquid which from a distance looked just like water. The smell was clearly that of the cloying, bitter-sweet smell of spirits, though. Cheap spirits. She had begun to pour the first glass when the door at the end of the hallway opened. Hastily pouring the liquid down a nearby sink and hiding the beaker behind a file, Norikov had picked up her side-arm, moving towards the door. Probably another Covenant prisoner waiting to be thrown in the cellar. That train of thought had been killed when she saw the gun barrel pointed at her. Had she been ten years younger she might have been able to do something, but age and the depression of Adam's killing during the glassing of Chi-Ceti had slowed her down considerably. "Put the gun on the floor, Amanda," a familiar voice had told her, before stepping out of the shadows the dim light-bulb in the ceiling had cast. Norikov's face was a picture of puzzlement. "James? What are you--?" her words were cut off as the man she had considered a friend took advantage of her surprise, stepping forward and disarming her in the way only trained ODST could. She made a fist and swung at him, but James had better combat training and avoided it easily, before restraining her fully. He smiled at her warmly as he always did. "Relax, Mandy," he assured her as an entire squad of other men and women from James' troop jogged past. "We're not here to hurt you. It's those things we want." He pointed at the dozens of tiny Grunts huddled in their cages, staring up with terror at the approaching men. Norikov stared up at him. "Don't do this, James. You'll be hanged." "I doubt that, Mandy. All a tribunal will find is a sentimental old fool of an Admiral who treats these scum like real people." "We need them alive. If not, the Covenant will--" "Dammit Mandy, we're not going to bargain with those scum anymore. If we don't kill them now, they'll kill us. If that means sacrificing a few thousand stranded people too stupid to evacuate when we told them too in order to save the lives of more from these bastards, then so be it." Norikov shook her head as she watched James' men open the cell doors -- with her keys -- and escort the helpless Grunts out at gunpoint. "We've got a Brute here, sir!" one of James' men suddenly yelped, and every head in the room turned to face the tall silent figure standing in the shadows. James looked at Norikov quizzically. "Why's a Brute with these little bastards?" "He keeps them calm," Norikov answered. "Hasn't spoken a word since being thrown in there though." "Tranq him, then have the little fuc­kers drag him along. Escort them all to the airlock with the rest. I'll catch up with you after I've made sure Mandy won't cause us any trouble," James ordered, and frowned with scorn when he saw Norikov's eyes widen. "Relax, I'm just tying you up. Some people may have forgotten, but I remember just who we're fighting for."