* * * The sight of High Charity, with its vast size, beautiful archtecture and aura of radiance was a familiar sight to Savara. The [i]Immortal Repentance[/i] had docked there many times in the past, for practical and religious reasons. This time was the first she would actually have something meaningful to do when visiting, though, other than see the monuments and vistas of the holy city and pray. The [i]Reptence[/i] was a very large ship, but even it was dwarfed by High Charity. The [i]Repetence[/i] was commanded by Thel Vadam'ee, the youngest of one of the oldest and most respected Sangheilian families; their bloodline could be traced back to the signing of the writ. From what she could understood, he had once been Kaidon of his family's state on Sangheilios, but the stars had called out to him and now he was rapidly ascending through the Covenant hierarchy some said he would reach Supreme Commander someday. [i]A Sangheili like he will never do anything considered blasphemous. Why could my Sorran have not been the same?[/i] Savara asked herself, standing in the departure area along with thousands of pilgrams-to-be. Convalescence stood beside her, arm linked with hers for support. She had beseeched him many times to use a gravity chair as most Prophets even younger than he did, but he wouldn't hear of it. Sorran had admired that, she remembered. An eerie silence blanketed the thousands of people as they waited. The lack of noise was surreal in such a large crowd; not even the Unggoy spoke a word as everyone knelt in collective prayer, a position they would remain in until the doors to the holy city opened. Only one did not kneel, a lone Kig-Yar stood a small distance away from the masses and leaning darkly against the wall, staring down at the ground wearing a brooding look under a darkened hood. His lack of conformity had attracted some attention. All this was forgotten however, when the great door of the departure zone opened, and the artificial light of High Charity flooded the dim room, illuminating it in religious glory. Synonymously, thousands lifted their heads in exaltation, a content expression of innocence gracing each and every face. "Come, my dear," Convalescence beckoned her finally, as people began to rise to their feet and exit the [i]Repentence[/i], stepping into the gargantuan dock of the holy city. Even now Savara could already hear the gentle hum of the Forerunner Dreadnought, positioned on a seat of reverence in the heart of the city. She nodded, standing up and walking towards the incorporeal stairs, comrpised of anti-gravity belts. The female Sangheili stole a final look at where the Kig-Yar had stood. Gone. Most probably some space-faring wanderer who had been picked up by the [i]Repentence[/i]; Vadam'ee refused no Covenant hospitality on his ship. Some of the Kig-Yar on the border ridges of the empire weren't as enthused by the divinity of the holy Forerunners as most. "When will we visit his grave?" Savara asked the frail Prophet as the shuffled through the crowd, under the watchful high of the constabulary and minder drones which hovered above. She'd almost forgotten how controlled High Charity was, unless you had money or power. "Tomorrow, my dear," Convalescence intoned wearily. "If you do not mind the little wait. I feel it would be best to familiarise ourselves with our quarters, first." Savara was about to protest when she noticed how dark the Minister's eyes were. [i]He's tired, he's just too proud to admit it directly. Sorran's body is not going anywhere.[/i] "Of course, Minister. I am a little tired, actually," she lied, saving Convalescence face. He smiled knowingly, but said nothing. It was still hard to believe Sorran was dead. Perhaps seeing his grave would give her some closure on the surreality. From a distance, a hooded figure watched the two closely. And when they began to move, he followed. * * * "What happened?" Orpheus asked as Ahkrin approached, Zharn still slung over his back unconscious. With no hesistation or shift in tone, Ahkrin answered swiftly. "The humans were keeping him drugged. He's still alive, don't worry... surely that's not our escape?" His finger was pointed limply at the human fighter behind them. It looked like a wreck; doubtlessly a veteran of many battles. Its flesh was scarred with deep cuts, and its joints seemed as if they threatened to pop out. "Well, apparently this is engineering..." Orpheus answered abashedly, shaggy hand nervously stroking the back of his broad neck as Ahkrin glared at him coldly. "The humans had shut off access to the docking bay!" Ahkrin cursed, punching a wall violently. His still-recovering arm protested, but he told it to shut up forcefully. "The humans bring their ships in here through a hanger door. We'll just have to take that wreck of a ship and hope the engineers had already started repairing it." "That's an awfully big risk," Orpheus cautioned, offering to take Zharn from Ahkrin. The Sangheili shook his head, turning away. "We either die on the ship or die at the hands of the humans pursuing us. At least the former option holds some small measure of hope." "Gods, Ahkrin. I'm starting to wish I'd just let the rioters shoot me," Orpheus chuckled, his joke alluding to acceptance. Ahkrin would have smiled, but a grave matter presented himself. He lay Zharn down on the floor before the two Unggoy, and grabbed Orpheus' shoulder, moving him aside out of the Unggoys' earshot and into the shadow cast by a support pillar. "We need to decide what to do with them," Ahkrin murmurred darkly, his voice reluctant yet resolute. He felt Orpheus stiffen against his shoulder. "What do you mean?" he asked, knowing full well what Ahkrin meant. "You know," Ahkrin snapped back quietly. "What we're doing here abandoning our fellows in need would get us killed if the council knew of it. I can weave the lie, and you and Zharn can adhere to it... but Unggoy would not. Their blind subservience would get us all executed, Jiralhanae. You understand me, do you not?" "So, what, you're suggesting we kill them?" Orpheus asked, outrage tinting his voice. Ahkrin shrugged. "Or leave them here. If Cole's men find them, they'll have a chance. If the humans intent on killing us all do... well, so be it." "Forerunner above, Ahkrin! What you suggest isn't just heresy, it's wrong!" Orpheus hissed, looking over the Sangheili's shoulder at the innocent, docile Unggoy as they watched the exits of the engineering room nervously. "I'd rather be guilty than dead, Orpheus. How about you?" Ahkrin demanded, hating himself but knowing there was no other way. The Jiralhanae knew too. "If we do this... I'll never be able to live with myself," Orpheus bemoaned, dropping his head into his hand. "You have no choice, Jiralhanae," Ahkrin told him. "I would kill you in an instant if you tried to stop me; I appreciate what you have done but the ties between Zharn and I run strong in all but blood. And I will do whatever it takes to keep he and I alive." "I don't doubt it," Orpheus conceeded, knowing all the while that Ahkrin was simply trying to exonerate him of blame. "... thanks. How are we going to do this, then?" "Leave it to me," Ahkrin replied with heavy-heart. "All I ask of you is to take Zharn aboard and ready that husk of a ship for departure." "I foresee many sleepless nights for us," Orpheus uttered despondently. Akrin laughed with mirth. "I am accustomed to them. Go, now. The humans are not far behind us."