He heard Orpheus before seeing him, the heavy footsteps pounding outside his room. Just as he heard the honour guards stationed outside immediately raise their staves and level them at the Jiralhanae; dark shapes through a murky pane of hard light. "Lay one finger on him and you shall all be incredibly sorry," Zharn warned the honour guards, having to raise his voice so they'd hear him. Instantaneously he heard the lowering of staves, and the begrudging growl of Orpheus. "Do we let it through, fleetmaster?" he heard an honour guard demand back, contempt seeping into his voice. "Yes," Zharn ground out angrily, resisting the powerful urge to shout at him. When he was in better health he'd reprimand the Sangheili for his rudeness. A few seconds later amidst some discontented mumbling, Orpheus was allowed into his infirmary room, and closed the door behind him. Seeing the dark shapes of honour guards outside the door pressing up to the hard light, Zharn made a gesture with his hand and the translucent barrier turned opaque, blocking sight and sound. "Always nice to know I'm welcome," Orpheus began, sitting down in a chair next to Zharn's bed. It sagged a little under his weight. "You are," Zharn assured him quickly. "You've saved my life now more times than I can count." "I think it was you who saved my life down there, Zharn. Killing a demon with a holy blade of the Forerunners; many are saying it is a sign from the gods that you are blessed." "Oh, please," Zharn remarked upon that with disgust, remembering how heads had inclined as he'd been carried up to the infirmary. "He was just a man; he didn't bleed black blood, nor was his skin like diamond. He died like any other human... he is dead, yes?" "His body is being prepared for departure to High Charity even now," Orpheus assured Zharn. "They plan to parade his corpse throughout the holy city, before throwing it into the fission-core of the holy Dreadnought as one final immolation. It will be transmitted to the humans; all of them. Their morale will be dealt a mighty blow." "I heard snatches of conversation from outside; something about a lock-down on High Charity?" "Apparently when extrapolating resources from a planet a strain of foreign viral matter may have escaped onto the station; the hierarchs assure us it is harmless, but they're putting the station in temporary quarantine just to make sure." "Good; such a thing should not touch our blessed Sangheilios." "Word is spreading that we are being sent in to prevent any ships leaving. I suspect that their reasoning is more akin to them wishing to have the Covenant's new demon-slayer in public eye." "Wonderful," Zharn muttered with dread. He hated ceremony, although it would be good to see Sanghelios again -- it had been far too long. "Perhaps if I'm fortunate another fleetmaster will kill two demons and I'll be left alone. I need time to think." "Of what?" Orpheus asked inquisitively. Zharn shook his head. "Something the demon said before he died. It is of no matter," he added hastily when he saw the Jiralhanae about to question him. Zharn did not think he was ready to tell anyone about what he had seen on Eridanus II; he was in fact worried that to do so would have him branded as a heretic. [i]I am not quite ready to join Sorran just yet.[/i] * * * It was odd that such a familiar sight could appear so hostile and alien. High Charity had once seemed so unremarkable; something he'd seen every day since childhood; his home, even when he'd discovered the truth of the Halo rings. Now, the holy station seemed to radiate hostility. Sorran could see every sharp, hard looking point marring its beauty, every defence turret and cannon embedded within the guardian-walls, each banshee as it danced in and out of the exterior pillars of the colossal mega-structure. "They've put the station into lock-down," Hem told Sorran quietly as he killed the thrusters of the Seraph, eliminating the heat-signature of the small vessel. "They're spinning some story about a foreign contaminant, but it's all lies. Truth and his stooges just want to make sure none of us escape their web." "Will we face trouble trying to get in?" Sorran asked worriedly. Hem thought for a few moments, finally deciding upon a shake of his world-weary head. "As far as the general Covenant knows right now, they're just trying to stop people leaving the quarantine, not enter it. With luck, those who know what they are truly hunting believe us to be dead amongst the ashes... for now." "Restraint--" Sorran began, fearing for the minister's life. He was cut off by a single gesture from Hem. "It would take at least a scarab to penetrate the shielding around the manor, Sorran, and I highly doubt even Truth would go that far. The only way to lower the barrier is from within, and I assure you we don't hold tea parties for Truth's inner circle." Sorran felt some relief at that, at least. But he still had a nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right, one he couldn't truly dispel. Ignoring it, he looked across at Hem. The Sangheili truly looked his years; every line in his skin seemed to bleed with age, every movement of his body a harrowing task. It was the eyes that were most chilling. They seemed to lack life, like a poor painting which hasn't managed to capture the soul made real. There was little emotion, or conscious thought, or hope; just cold, hard revenge cemented behind those stone-hard orbs of graphite. Hem didn't have many years left, and Sorran suspected the horrors he had seen today had reduced those years considerably. The other Sangheili wanted to reveal the truth to the Covenant, and Sorran had at first agreed. Now he was having reservations. At first, he had been motivated by grief and anger, like his mentor. But although he lamented the deaths of Kemyn and Ilia, and the losses of the survivors, he was not nearly as affected as Hem. Sorran could put aside the emotion and wish for revenge, and look at it objectively. To show the truth of the great journey right now could result in any number of possibilities, but the most likely was completely collapse of the Covenant, followed by civil war between species which no longer had any bond keeping their differences in the shadows. Such a war would result in the loss of billions, if not trillions of lives. No doubt the humans would take advantage of that weakness, and annihilate their hated foe whilst they were in turmoil. No, the more Sorran thought about it the more he was convinced this was a bad idea, motivated by Hem's wish to exact revenge upon the hierarchs and lack of care for what happens after. [i]It is not my place to worry. Restraint will talk sense into him.[/i]