"You really think there would have been peace? You're a more studious man than I, you must know of the humans' history. War, genocide, conflict. They're no better than any race, and worse because they've developed so much without external intervention. Too violent, but more importantly far too clever. Even if they weren't blaspheming, their destruction would come eventually," Ahkrin advocated for the devil he didn't follow, trying to throw off Jeann'ee suspicions. "That's Sangheili hubris," Jeann'ee dismissed with contempt. "And I do not believe it true. They seem clever [i]because[/i] there was no external intervention. They didn't have the prophets bring them impulse technology or world-seeders to found colonies and so had to create everything for themselves. If the prophets had not come as they did, we would be the same. We were exploring the boundaries of our world before they came, we had a small base on a moon. Soon we would have reached further." "Or fallen in self-destruction, like the Jiralhanae did. Even the humans were warring amongst themselves before we came - nothing brings divided factions together like an external foe though, and that's what we did. If we'd just waited a decade or so before revealing ourselves, they would have been far weaker and the war would be over in a few--" A red light flashed above Jeann'ee's head, and his jaw locked in a way Ahkrin didn't like. Anticipation swept through the cockpit of the phantom. "This has been fun, but we'll have to put the argument on hold for now," Jeann'ee lamented, tightening the straps keeping him in his seat. His eyes suggested Ahkrin do the same. "What's going on? Have we been discovered?" Ahkrin asked worriedly, straining his ears for the sound of a screaming banshee. "In a manner of speaking," Jeann'ee replied. "Don't worry, it's all part of the plan." [i]Boom![/i] Chaos sang like a dreaded choir as the Phantom suddenly jerked to one side, throwing all of them against the limits of their bracers. Ahkrin looked over wildly at Jeann'ee, who seemed calm as he had been before. "What is this?" he asked Jeann'ee, who smiled lazily. "Ours is not the only phantom which left home today; another of ours flies but a mile to the west. What the other pilot doesn't know is that his doesn't hold an IFF." Ahkrin frowned as he considered the ramifications of that. He did not know much of airforce procedures, but this much he did. "Then the Covenant will--" "Move to engage the other phantom, yes," Jeann'ee answered, and as if to herald his prediction the chilling caw of two vampire-class intercepters sounded from outside their own phantom. Ahkrin braced for the weightlessness that would take their phantom as the vampires engaged their tractor beams to prepare for boarding, but it did not come. Instead the vampires flew straight past, to the west. Jeann'ee stood up from his seat and stumbled his way towards the cockpit. He beckoned for Ahkrin to follow suit. Soon they were stood next to the pilot, who was hitting buttons with a professional ease. "We're being hailed by the intercepters," the pilot informed Jeann'ee, who stood with his back to the wall and arms folded. He nodded. "You know what to do." Ahkrin watched from the corner as the pilot opened the channel, and the driver of one of the two vampires flying towards the other, IFF-less phantom in the distance began to speak. "[i]Helmsman, we've determined the phantom ahead lacks a valid IFF. We'd appreciate your assistance in detaining it.[/i]" "Of course," the pilot of their own phantom answered smugly. "Dead or alive?" "[i]Dead. The sanctum wants no strays in the skies on this day.[/i]" Their pilot looked back to Jeann'ee for word on the matter. Ahkrin nudged him and shook his head sharply. They could not kill their own men, surely? Evidently not the case, as Jeann'ee merely nodded again. Their pilot returned his attention to the controls. "By your word. Form up on our flank, we'll engage the enemy on multiple fronts and punch through their shielding. Request you end communications lest they pick up the chatter." "[i]A sound plan. You have our thanks, we should feel much better with a helmsman at our side. Over and out,[/i]" the vampire replied, and with that the channel closed. Jeann'ee let out an arrogant laugh, and clapped his pilot on the shoulder. "You did well, 'helmsman.' Now, move us in to destroy that phantom and we can proceed to the dreadnought." "Wait!" Ahkrin snapped. "We're actually to destroy it? "It'll convince the Covenant we are of they, and allow us to head to our goal unmolested. Don't worry, the people in the other phantom are all volunteers, they know the danger." "Truly?" Ahkrin asked, relieved a little. Jeann'ee let out a bark of laughter. "Gods, no; they have no idea. Do not mourn for them, they're scum." "This isn't right," Ahkrin insisted, even though he saw the logic behind the plan. Jeann'ee looked at him with amusement, and even the pilot let out a little titter. "If you wanted 'right,' you've fallen in with the wrong crowd my friend. You've grown softer than I feared. Tell me, can you still wield a blade, or do you keep it sheathed for fear of cutting yourself?" "Push me any further and you'll find out. Is there no other way?" "Not unless you wish to journey by land, and one does not simply walk through the guarded checkpoints the sanctum set up around the dreadnought." Ahkrin could see the other phantom through a viewing window now, and it saw them. The phantom made no move to flee, not knowing of their intentions. It was not until the two vampires beside them de-cloaked and began to charge their tractor beams that they realised what was happening, and too late tried to run. Ahkrin turned away, wondering if any of this would be worth it. All he had was Sorran's good word and belief that the oracle in the dreadnought would speak. But then again, it [i]was[/i] all he had. He fingered the amethyst in his pocket and let his protest die. "Do it then, gods curse you." * "You mentioned you had a daughter. She is dead?" The words carried a memory still as foul as the day he'd experienced it, and Pel felt a lump batter its way into his near-strangled throat. Had it not been for the gun pressed into his back, he might have sunk to his knees and wept. "Chi Ceti," he replied, the very name of the planet bringing back many more painful memories. "My daughter... A'sya, she was a software engineer." "An unusual trade for a woman," Grymar'ee remarked as they walked. "But then, who am I to speak when my own daughter is a combat medic?" "You know the details of the operation on Chi Ceti?." "Of course I do; I... sanctioned it," Grymar'ee spoke with a tinge of regret, and Pel felt his blood turn to ice. He hadn't known; most of what happened on that planet was inked in black, even to him. "A crucible for the demons, where they trained and received their battle armour. Needless to say, when it was discovered the sanctum wanted it to be glassed from orbit." "... but it wasn't," Pel remembered, wondering where this was going. "They brought in a science lance to discover more about the demons. There was a hope we could replicate the process, make our own super soldiers." "A sound idea on paper. Had it not been for circumstances I could not have foreseen, it would have worked too. I sent in the [i]Unrelenting,[/i] it should have been more enough. Alas, its crew of kig-yar proved inept and the demons were able to both board and destroy the cruiser from within. A lack of faith, the hierarchs said. A lack of sense, I say." "A'sya was aboard that ship. It was you who sent her science lance there? It's your fault she's [i]dead[/i]?" Grymar'ee stopped for a second, roughly spun Pel around and thrust his bare wrist in his face; a intricate brand was seared into it - a sword and shield woven into the ring of a Halo; denotation of a grand commander in the covenant army. "You see this? It means I hold command over any member of the armed forces. That includes any auxiliary lances; scientists, researchers, medics - I lord over them all. I made the choice to send in your daughter's science lance to Chi Ceti in the hope it would one day yield us with our own demons. It went badly, I took full responsibility for the mission's failure, and I bear the scars where I was flayed for that. But I [i]don't[/i] take responsibility for your daughter's death. She knew the risks when she signed on, as did all who died on that ship." "She was not even past twenty cycles," Pel spat back. "That's war," Grymar'ee shot back. "I lost my younger brother when he was of an age lesser than that, but I did not mourn, for he had died with honour and duty. As did your daughter. I'm sure she would be disgusted to see the spineless shadow-scum her father has become." "So says the Imperial Admiral who has shirked his duty and betrayed his Covenant. I know why you care for your daughter's safety so, and it isn't love. You're inept, but through some miracle you managed to get your seed to sprout in some wench's belly. But all that gave you was a daughter, not the son you needed to carry on your bloodline and no matter how much you've -blam!- since, you've never been able to get another pregnant. She's all you'll have, and you need her to give you grandsons who can inherit the mantle of your house lest some distant relation take it after your death." "That's not so!" Grymar'ee spoke a little too loudly, as Pel intended. He hoped one of his guards heard. "I love Savara." "Maybe some, but I imagine if you had sons also you wouldn't be doing all this just for a disobedient daughter who disgraced her noble lineage." "... I would do anything for my family." [i]And I mine,[/i] Pel vowed silently. [i]Which is why one day I shall rip the life from you just as you took it from A'sya.[/i]