"Sangheili Pólvora"

Chapter One, part one:

1400 hours; Central Command Station Radiant

Noise filtered through the zero-g atmosphere with an almost liquid resonance to it, the voices of his comrades on the comn often drowning it out. The communications were kept to a minimum, however, and it was just as well- he needed to hear that odd syrupy noise as much as he required the feedback from his teammates. Enin 'Lygotee hated missions like these, but there practically was no helping them, and inevitably someone had to do them.

The Grunt Rebellion was in the past, and since the rise of the newest Arbiter, the Heretic Uprising on the remains of the first Halo they had found was silenced as well. Still, this never allowed that all was well and good in the world, and times like these were nothing different. 'Lygotee and his team of Elites were moving through the open-ended mod-bay to cut off the retreat of a small band of unruly Unggoy that had taken it into their heads to become a problem to the Covenant.

A small one, but problems left unsolved never made anyone's day. Plucking his plasma rifle from it's secured place at his hip, 'Lygotee checked the power node to ensure it was fully charged. He usually performed this ritual twice or three times within a mission before the action began, but it wasn't paranoia- the Elite had had the misfortune to become stranded once with a depleted rifle in the presence of a hotzone. To his left, Thin 'Pohamee, to his right and rear, Elco 'Obaulee, and behind him was Rkwa 'Lavuree. His friends and trusted fellow warriors, these three could be counted upon to act within a timely manner when it counted, and each had proven themselves numerous times.

The four Elites had almost always managed to come away together with less than fatal injuries when sent to fight. Humans, the parasite often called Flood, even sometimes against select members of their own Covenant. Today, 'Lygotee was feeling good, and he hoped to subdue the unruly Grunts- there were seven of them, mechanically inclined- without much in the way of incident. But when he reached for the outer control of the airlock door that would allow him and his team entrance to the station, he realized the lights on the panel were dark.

Blast! Why the smart ones? 'Lygotee snarled as he turned to 'Obaulee to issue orders to make a less than subtle entrance. It would complicate things- for one, sealing the breach would mean closing off a sector of the station so the interior didn't blow out the hole they were about to make when the force field surrounding the ribs holding position between them and open vacuum faltered. Or worse, failed.

After 'Obaulee was in position, 'Lygotee moved away to give the other Elite space to work as well as clear the blast radius so he wouldn't need to dart away when it went boom. He turned back when he heard 'Obaulee give a grunt of partial surprise and shock. Looking past his teammate told 'Lygotee the door had just opened either by internal operation or by itself- the latter seemed unlikely, yet the former seemed more so. He moved closer, drifting slightly above the doorframe as he did so.

Hiding behind the air mask all of his kind wore when in like company and carrying the leaf-shaped tank on his little shoulders, the Unggoy seemed small indeed. But he looked back at the Elites at the door with as much bravery as he might have been capable of mustering. By repute, that wasn't much.

Still, the diminutive fellow had one hand on the control switch and the other hung empty. His plasma pistol was at rest on the same belt where he kept his grenades. "You are very fast. Just on time. Come, come, get in and get hidden before you get seen."

'Lygotee about swallowed his mandibles, and lost his eyes from their respective sockets. Traitors! Why? Or was it even that? He decided he could easily decide the fate of the runt if he needed to, but for now the Grunt had just made his life a little easier and he wasn't one to waste opportunity.

Almost at once, he and his team moved through, sealing the door behind them to leave few if any traces. The Grunt had opened it, after all, so if given close scrutiny, it would look as much. 'Lygotee motioned 'Pohamee to a fore position, before taking up one of his own on the other side of the hall. The fighting had driven the sniveling cowards through this sector, and soon they would be funneled his way. If he could…

Sizzle-crack, boom!

'Lygotee jumped as he spun, alarmed and spooked from his train of thought. It was rare that 'Lygotee lost his cool, but the sound had been much too closely akin to that of a standard grade plasma grenade going off. He stared in horror at the evidence to just such an explosion, but he hadn't time to consider the mangled body of 'Obaulee and the sagging heap of rent flesh that was 'Lavuree before he realized the little bastard that had let them in was killing them all, without firing a shot. The grenade smacked into his breastplate and adhered there, with a sickening puk.

Frightened out of his wits, 'Lygotee let his rifle drop to the floor as he clawed at the explosive, tearing it from his armor and scraping the sticky thing from his palm before it detonated. The blast dropped him straight down as it peeled up part of the wall plating, since he was backed into a corner and could not be thrown because of it. His shields crackled across his armored skin, depleted completely, but the mechanism was the least of his concerns. A simultaneous grenade flung to his right had stuck to 'Pohamee, and the Elite now sat slumped against his former cover leaking as much blood perhaps as he owned onto the floor from multiple gaping wounds. He and 'Lygotee had shared the double blast, and for it he felt more than lucky to have lived through it. The Grunt left outside the blast radius of all three now stood just feet from him, unharmed and smiling behind his hydrogen mask.

'Lygotee focused on him, feeling the anger boiling in his veins as he glared the little bastard down. Pain seared through his body as he forced himself from his slouch, seizing the smaller alien in both hands and tearing at his neck until his little head came clean off. 'Lygotee's roar of combined fury, agony, and pain for the loss of his friends echoed both ways down the hall, but the Grunt that evoked it all never heard him.

He tossed the headless body away, then the head after that, before daring to turn and assess the damage and see if any of his teammates had shared his luck. Lowering to a knee, 'Lygotee knew before he touched him that 'Obaulee had not. He might have been sufficiently lucky, however, to miss any undue suffering before he was spent, and for that 'Lygotee could be grateful. Motion off to his side got his attention, and he aided 'Lavuree's attempt to roll over.

"Forerunners be praised… you have survived." 'Lygotee greeted. "Can you stand?"

'Lavuree choked on a mouthful of blood that had gotten in through the wound on his neck, but he managed a nod- if a weak one- and began to pull his badly damaged carcass from the floor. 'Lygotee helped him get upright, but when it became obvious he wasn't going to be able to stay that way on his own, he propped the Elite on the wall before moving- more limping, actually- to where 'Pohamee sat slumped in the corner behind the blast door he had been planning to use as cover when the recognized enemy arrived. 'Lygotee lifted the Elite's head from where it had fallen, and though he was entirely limp and for it had caused 'Lygotee to assume he was dead, 'Pohamee greeted his commander with a silent stare followed by a blink.

'Lygotee smiled, feeling fortunate. It angered him to think a mere Grunt- a single Grunt, at that- could decimate his troop so easily. No, they would persevere, continue on and complete their mission, and emerge… one shy.

His momentary elation faded at the realization that not all of them had survived the surprise attack. In truth it was downright rare to live through a quadruple shock of grenades, let alone have three out of four do it, but the loss of any one of them, multiples aside, was a tremendous crush to the commander. These were his friends, not just his command. He hadn't gotten his black armor lightly, and neither had they.

'Obaulee would be missed.

"Commander." 'Lavuree spoke. His voice sounded raw- possibly from inhaling the injury to his throat.

'Lygotee turned his head, to acknowledge the summons for attention without letting 'Pohamee out of his sight.

"Leave him. The enemy approaches."

'Lygotee knew he was in no shape to fight right now, but he had lingered unmolested long enough for his shields to have recharged completely… and as much as he wanted to withdraw right then, he could see 'Lavuree was right. Plasma bolts slapped around the corner at the far end of the hall where the Grunts were to come, signaling the drive was about to be upon them. An idea struck 'Lygotee then. They had been betrayed, and thus expected, so there was no real need to conceal themselves though their camouflage worked well enough.

A Human had taught him the trick at Reach. Play dead, be missed, passed up, and there in the middle of the hall was a golden opportunity right before him. It was uncommon tactics… but if it worked, it worked, and who was to say a functional tactic was a dishonorable one? 'Lygotee let 'Pohamee rest where he was, and moved back to 'Lavuree to help him lower back to the floor without falling; falling would agitate his injuries and possibly make them worse. "Let them come upon you and believe you are dead as doubtless their friend promised them. Do not stir until you have them where you want them."

A little confused, but willing to try it, 'Lavuree nodded his acceptance of the orders. He likely felt as poorly as 'Lygotee did right then, and personally the Commander couldn't blame him. He had a hole in him right next to a major artery and it was a miracle the thing hadn't been perforated. He was just centimeters from bleeding out. 'Lygotee left the Elite where he had found him to begin with and returned to his own respective place, sliding down the wall to ease his own descent to the floor. Once down, and seated where he had been after the dual-blast had cleared, 'Lygotee realized he had encountered a double-edged sword. Now he was down… and he wasn't going to be rising again.

He pressed a hole in his thigh closed while he waited for their prey to arrive, wondering what he had in mind. Shoot them? Word was one of them had swiped a shield generator. Two had been confirmed as having Jackal arm-shields. Unggoy were fragile, as far as how much plasma fire they could take went. These Unggoy, though… a feral smile crept onto his withered-up features despite the pain that had curled them.

These Unggoy would never see him coming, and would never know what hit them.

'Lygotee let his eyes rest while he listened to the splash and hiss of the plasma, the choking cries of the Grunts unlucky enough to be hit by some, and the shouts and insults from those pursuing them; One voice he recognized, as it rang loud and clear to his position; "You are a traitor to your race!"

"Down in front!" A Grunt responded.

"Grenade!" The commander Elite called, and shortly after came the explosion to mark the truth in their words.

"Holy light!" Another Elite shouted, but this time the response was more gratifying-

"Ahhh!" The Unggoy wailed. "Get it off me!" boom!

At the corner, the Grunts made a stand since they had more cover, but after saturating their antagonist's position with more grenades- quite a number of them, 'Lygotee mused- they all turned to flee towards his direction. He rather anticipated them to hesitate long enough to confirm his team was neutralized, but all the passing Grunts did was look at them after the first glance.

"I have a bad feeling about this…" The Unggoy in the back mentioned.

It was difficult not to smile at the comment.

"Keep up." A comrade told him. 'Lygotee sat forward when the last one had turned his back, and touched a primed grenade too his air tank as he walked away. The Grunt trod a good distance, before noticing he was doomed, but by then the fuse was pretty much spent. Still, he managed to panic and dart for his fellows before it detonated, blowing them all out in all directions from the non-protective sides of their filched shields. Their dying screams were the most satisfying sound 'Lygotee had ever heard, but he realized after all was quiet again that the Unggoy had somehow failed to note the same thing he had; In his master plan, which at that point he wondered how it had worked due to the nature of the flaw, he had forgotten to hide the body of the Grunt that had done his team a number.

How had the other Grunts also fail to notice? It seemed rather unlikely that they assumed he had been killed by being too close to his own grenade volley, as his carcass's only damage was the severance of head from shoulders. He bore no burns or flak at all.

'Lygotee looked at 'Pohamee, who was staring after the blast mark down the hall where all the Unggoy had blown up. "You have done well, brothers." 'Lygotee mentioned, gaining their attention. 'Lavuree lifted his head, to see his Commander, but neither said anything. By the look on his face, though, 'Lygotee knew he needed to get them both to care quickly if he hoped to have either battle-worthy any time soon.

'Lavuree relaxed onto the floor again, with what sounded like a held breath released, right before the team that had been pushing the Grunts down their direction came upon them. 'Lygotee couldn't find the strength to raise his head, and was grateful he wasn't lying mostly prone like 'Lavuree was, but rather sat up against the wall, so he really wouldn't need to. The Elite at the fore of the newly arrived team looked over the mess, but he had bad senses or something, as the one he knelt beside happened to be 'Obaulee. Seeing the warrior was dead, he assumed the rest- who weren't but looked the part- were, too. Looking up at a fellow Elite past a Jackal, he growled something 'Lygotee didn't catch before saying, "Curses upon these traitors. Go and make sure none are alive- they must pay for the blood they have spilled."

The Elite moved down the hall with four Jackals and two Grunts, leaving the Commander where he was. 'Lygotee caught him looking in his direction, and smiled wanly. "We persist where we may, brother."

The motion he used to close the gap between them seemed more akin to a hop- he rose, moved, and knelt again, this time beside 'Lygotee. "What happened here?"

"I was afflicted with a measure of bad judgment, and we were ambushed."

"Who slew the Grunts?"

"We did." 'Lygotee answered. "After the first fight, we were too badly weakened to face them on our feet so we decided to use our predicament to trick them as they tricked us. It worked."

"I see." He glanced at 'Pohamee, and noticed his gaze was returned. "How many are only pretending to have fallen?"

"Unfortunately, only us three. 'Obaulee is truly dead, and I do not regret anything more than I do that fact."

The Elite looked at him again. "Three?"

"'Lavuree lives still."

"Get your team to the medical ward, Commander, before all of you expire needlessly after the fact." He stood, and met his own team down the hall, where the rent bodies of the renegade Grunts were getting holes burned through them from plasma fire. It was a waste of ammo for some of them, but one actually squeaked, so it proved a necessary measure after all.

'Lygotee leaned to the side, and rested his palms on the floor to try to gain something resembling upright. At first he doubted he would succeed, but with a little determination he did actually manage to get to his knees. From there he could reach the toggle on the wall, and with this he was able to pull himself the rest of the way up. He spent some time resting there to gain a measure of his strength before moving to 'Pohamee to pry the Elite from the floor as well. 'Pohamee, though wounded in more places than 'Lygotee, wound up being the one to pull 'Lavuree aright, and between the three of them, they were able to take 'Obaulee with them when they began the slow trek to the med-ward.

Eventually, somewhere along the way, their luck would end, and the spree would be over, leaving the team less than operable. 'Lygotee carried 'Obaulee's deadweight like a burden he could never put down. His remaining Elites didn't need to be told to recognize this.

Chapter One, part two:

1822 hours; Central Command Station Radiant

Enin 'Lygotee paced the hall with a mood bordering on angered impatience. He had been here for more than an hour, and his patience had worn thin. 'Pohamee and 'Lavuree were both in improved conditions, and resting in their personal quarters. He had been trying to summon the attention of the Prophet that was passing through the area, though, leaving no room for such activity.

It wasn't that he didn't find being blown to hell exhausting, he just needed to address an issue he knew would never be taken care of unless the Prophets dictated it so. And it had gone from a mild annoyance to a pressing problem. 'Lygotee paused to consider the color of the wall beside him, but in the end it didn't mean anything- the whole station was the exact same shade, plus or minus a few accessories to the bulkheads. Through a force-field extension, he could see a cruiser drifting into the docking rings, and briefly wondered who was aboard, but he doubted he would meet any of them unless they sought him out.

Something was changing- he didn't like it, and didn't know what it was, but it was happening nonetheless. Finally, the door to the chamber where the Prophet of Mercy had chosen to reside while aboard the Radiant slid open, and a chunky brute walked out. He curled his lip at 'Lygotee, who growled in reply. Tensions between the two races had increased, but tolerance seemed to hold, so there was no outright fighting… yet.

'Lygotee had learned to trust his gut, though, and his gut was telling him to prepare for that to be among the changes happening around him. He didn't expect it would become much more than the Grunts' complaints had been, though, and gave it little thought. When he stepped through the door, a panoramic view of the stars and the ships blotting them out in places around the Station's upper quarter came into sight, framing the Prophet that hung in his floater chair in front of the window.

'Lygotee approached, since the Prophet's back was turned, wondering how he could make his case without sounding like an idiot. When he was within twenty paces, the Prophet turned in place, and looked down at him, so he dropped to a knee and bent his head. "Hail, Prophet."

"Rise, Commander." Mercy answered. When 'Lygotee was again upright, he tilted his long spindly neck so his head drifted to the side. The little holographic symbol of the Sacred Ring projected from his headdress twinkled oddly as a star through the window became visible through one edge of it. "I am told you have a complaint you believe is worth the attention of the Prophets?"

"I do, Prophet." 'Lygotee answered.

"Voice it, then, and I shall decide if it truly merits our attention."

'Lygotee drew a deep breath. Here went nothing- hopefully this didn't wind up on his record and he wasn't branded a fool for life. "It has come to my attention that the Brutes have been granted living spaces near to and among the Sangheili. We do not mean any disrespect, but such arrangements are unacceptable and have made us disagreeable, even hostile, where we were once peaceable and calm. I wished to express my concerns of the arrangement and request changes to it. Will you consider, Prophet?"

Mercy stroked his beaded goatee with the long fingers of his left hand. "Your complaint is recognized as legitimate, yet I am afraid the arrangements made were made to persist- we only ask that you make peace with your brothers of the Covenant, because heresy will have no time for repentance. The Great Journey is nigh."

'Lygotee sighed. Drat. "I will convey your instruction to the others, Holy One."

"See that you do;" Mercy answered, his tone a little on the cold side. "And ensure any dissention is quieted before it can grow, Commander. I am placing this responsibility in your hands."

"Should not such a responsibility belong to the Station Commander?" 'Lygotee protested.

"Are you questioning the will of the Prophets?"

"No!" 'Lygotee answered, hastily, adding slower, "I only wished to know the reason behind such a decision… I do not wish to undermine anyone's authority, yours, his, or the Council of Prophets'. Please forgive this blunder- I did not mean any ill."

"Very well, Commander. You may go." The Prophet's sanguine voice followed him as he left, curling in the air and making him feel less easy about the whole thing. Something was afoot, and he still didn't know what. But he knew he had to make those unaware recognize it, so they might be prepared, even if it proved nothing of dangerous quality. He did know he had learned something useful- and it spelled disaster with a capitalized D if there were no preparations made.

The Prophet of Mercy hadn't answered any of his questions.

'Lygotee walked the rest of the way to the open gardens between the quarters' Commons and the work areas in silent speculation, trying to make sense of the newest development. He passed the corridors near the docking ring and the cargo bays, and paused to consider the activity within each space before moving on.

Brutes dominated both areas. Grunts and Jackals dotted amid their ranks, but it was looking more and more like the Station Radiant had been given to the Brutes' clans for some ulterior purpose that wasn't meant to be at the attention of the Sangheili.

'Lygotee understood one thing clearly enough; the Brutes had just gotten in a shipload of reinforcements, and the Elites were still at their present numbers, mostly unaware though suspecting of the changes being implemented. It was a frightening prospect- these Brutes were being pressed into the Elite's designated space because their own was filled to capacity and still more had arrived just today.

More disturbing was the fact that the Prophet of Mercy hadn't had a single Sangheili Honor Guard in attendance in the chamber with him- yet the Brute that had greeted him at the door to it had been wearing the signature yellow banner and armor. 'Lygotee made his way across the gardens and past the hydroponics maintenance sector door, noting as he did so yet one more detail about the Brutes in that sector; they were armed, though none were wielding their weaponry just yet.

He knew he couldn't just give a warning and leave it at that… this was becoming serious. Something was happening that the Covenant had decided they didn't want the Elites to know about. 'Lygotee suspected it was something that his people weren't going to like very much, either.

Wondering who all was in on the evident conspiracy, 'Lygotee caught and turned aside a passing Unggoy for questioning. "Why are the Brutes gathering their numbers here?"

The Unggoy looked up at him, a puzzled look on his face. "Me not know."

"What are they doing?"

"Me not sure, Leader…" The grunt scratched speculatively at his head. "Me best guess be they moving munitions to the frontlines."

"Moving munitions?" 'Lygotee asked, a little alarmed by the idea that the Brutes had brought lots of extra ammo with them.

"Yes, Leader." The Unggoy answered. "Lots of boxes of guns and ammunition for the guns. Big guns and small guns and batteries for the small guns."

'Lygotee watched as a Brute walked past, catching the demeaning stare he got from the hulk. Looking down at the grunt, he wondered who would fight for whom when it came down to it. Grunts, while a little headstrong when they became possessed of an idea, had forever been followers of the Sangheili warriors. They didn't much like the way the honorless Brutes treated them. Kig-Yar, on the other hand, liked to fight for whomever they believed would win- never was a Jackal seen that would keep a loyalty to a side that appeared to be losing power. A Kig-Yar would put up with the Brute's treatment if it meant they were on the winning side.

One for one, Brutes did own more physical mass and individual strength than an Elite, but they were prone to tossing aside their weapons of choice in favor of going berserk and mauling their enemies with their bare hands. There was no system, no form to their fighting. Drones of the insectoid Yanme'e also preferred the Jackal way of thought, though it had a few modifications. Luckily, there weren't any of those creatures on the Radiant at present. The insectoid race had all shipped out eagerly enough to the Sacred Ring where they could have front row seats to the Great Journey when it began.

A good number were reportedly dead already due to the Flood combat forms, though. 'Lygotee was glad he wasn't there in person, confidant he wouldn't be missed if he simply held to his honor and loyalties.

"What are they doing with these boxes of guns and ammunition?" The Elite asked. "Are they opening any of them?"

"Yes, Leader- all of them. For inspection." The Grunt replied. He seemed to think he was going to get a pat on the head for the information.

'Lygotee felt inclined to give it to him. "You have done well. Run and gather your Podmates. I want to ensure you are all in fit condition to move if the Prophets call us to join them at the Sacred Ring." It was actually a possibility, though at this point a slim one. He stood still long enough to see the Grunt out of sight, then resumed his walk to the Sangheili quarter, trying to ignore the scrutinizing and condescending looks the Brutes were giving him. He would run them all through on his energy sword if a single one killed one of his brothers.

Still, he could hope it wouldn't come to that. The Covenant had held together for centuries, building races as it sought the Path. The Humans were not the first to suffer the Covenant's wrath, though they had been the first to do something as horrifyingly demonic as destroy a Sacred Ring. The event had shocked even the Brutes- it hadn't crossed their minds as a possible outcome. Before the event, 'Lygotee hadn't even considered the Rings to be a destructible object.

A Brute appeared on the other side when he passed the door to the Sangheili quarter, but here he felt better at ease when there proved more Elites than the unsightly, smelly beasts that had somehow replaced the Honor Guard. He greeted the first that he came close to, but though he was unfamiliar with the fellow's name, he suspected he would know it soon enough along with a million others from across the Station if things became nasty. Sensing 'Lygotee was on a mission of some sort, the Elites that noticed began to gather behind him until he had accumulated nearly all those in the quarter. Those missing were quickly rousing to the unusual event at the beckon of their curious comrades.

When he had all of them gathered in the biggest in-quarter chamber, 'Lygotee turned to face them. "Something disturbing has come to my attention, brothers."

A quiet murmur ran through the crowd. Never had so many Sangheili been gathered in so tight a group before without the presence of a number of one or more of the other races of the Covenant.

"I have spoken to the Prophet of Mercy." 'Lygotee added, keeping his voice level so he wouldn't be seen as trying to rouse them all to start a fight. "He failed to answer a single query I presented him; and the Honor Guard are honorable nolonger- the Brutes wear the traditional golden standards."

A faster, more excited murmur followed this announcement.

"A vessel has also docked to this Station within the last hour, and I have seen it's content; Brutes, brothers. Brutes and their favored weaponry."

Silence met this revelation, as the exchanges of converse were abandoned in favor of thought of the information 'Lygotee was giving them. He recognized the looks on many of their faces as the same as what he felt himself- uncertain, uneasy, the feeling of being backed into a corner that had not previously been recognized.

"Do not let them invade your honor without protest. Make the Brutes understand they are not welcome in this quarter. The hives of the Drones are empty- they do not need our space."

"Leader." An Elite in the front spoke. "What are you implying?"

"All I know is something is about to happen- Brutes do not like to congregate in places where their numbers make them crowded. Brutes fight amongst themselves too easily to make such arrangements economical. They are not shipping forward- they are gathering here. Here, brothers. Do you not recognize this? Something is very wrong."

"We do." A second spoke up. "We see them looking at us like we are prey they have been instructed not to kill."

"I have seen Brutes in groups without argument or conflict holding position outside the doors to our rooms." Another added. "They spit at us and act as if we were not honored members of the Covenant."

"We may not be, brother…" 'Lygotee answered, softly. His words silenced them all, and their expressions turned to doubt, and noncomprehension. "You see… why would the Honor Guards become Brutes if the Prophets had not decided to exchange the roles of the races? My information is sketchy at best, but I wanted to warn you, brothers- go nowhere without your weapons. I fear a fight may come to us."

"We will not be cut down like worthless curs!" The first Elite shouted, raising a chorus of agreeing growls and snarls.

"Peace, brothers." 'Lygotee added, his tone still soft. "Keep your hearts pure and adhere to your honor. If the Brutes wish a fight they shall get one- but we are above such heretic actions- let them tarnish their own by striking the beginning blow."

"And allow them to kill us?" An Elite wearing blue armor queried.

"Allow, no. A first strike need not be a killing one."

The response was agreeable enough, though 'Lygotee knew the whole thing was just speculation.

"Listen to him." A voice in the back rose up.

Elites turned to view the speaker, curious who would place so much faith in the seemingly mad Elite whose words bordered on heresy even as the rest of them agreed with him.

'Lygotee's mouth opened in complete awe. He could have swore he was looking at either a perfect copy of 'Obaulee or 'Obaulee himself, but he had seen the unfortunate Elite die and then seen his body after the fact- not to mention it had been disposed of already as well.

"If you put your trust and faith in anything, put it here, brothers." The Elite added. "Brutes have no honor, and they relish the death of anything that is not their own!"

Every Sangheili knew that- but to hear it voiced aloud evidently got their blood boiling, and the words were met with loud cries of agreement. The crowd closed again, and 'Lygotee lost sight of the Elite he thought looked- and sounded, as well- like 'Obaulee, but he knew he couldn't escape very fast if 'Lygotee were to press into the crowd and seek him out.

When he got to the place, though, there was no one of any kind of similarity to what he'd just witnessed. "'Obaulee?" he asked, looking around.

'Pohamee appeared in his peripheral, and he turned to see his teammate. "Leader, 'Obaulee is dead. You know this."

'Lygotee looked back at the scores of Elites surrounding him, but he was forced to nod, and concede the point. He was foolish to think anything else, he knew- he had seen the evidence of the death personally, every last second of the event. Another scan of the crowd turned up 'Lavuree, though, and together the three made their way to the corridor where their personal quarters were.

'Lygotee frowned when they passed not one but three Brutes heading out of the hall. There appeared nothing amiss, though, when 'Lygotee entered his room, so he decided to dismiss it until later. He spared a moment to look at the calm, quiet interior of the space before moving deeper in, able to feel the heartbeat of the Radiant's main power cores in the utter and complete silence. He had just begun to remove his armor when he noticed an unusual item that resembled nothing he was familiar with resting on the floor next to the back wall.

Curious, he went to pick it up when he suddenly realized the nature of the item due to a dim light node blinking once on the side. Quickly he withdrew his hand. It wasn't timed- it was rigged to do its thing by another means. Motion? No, he had moved plenty before it without it doing a thing. Heat? That spot was the hottest place on the floor here- so it wasn't heat sensitive. 'Lygotee spent a moment pondering the problem, but ultimately could think of nothing- so he turned back to the door to seek the advice of his teammates, but he paused in revelation when he saw the door panel.

Someone had removed it and put it back. There was glue to hold it in place, and for the slick, almost liquid nature of the glue, the panel had slid somewhat before it could dry. 'Lygotee sighed. Oh, this was good. He had probably triggered a programmed setting on the thing- would it go off if he reopened his door to attempt to escape it? Or would it do so if he even touched the panel's control, regardless of the button's former function? He couldn't be sure- but now he had an idea as for how to circumvent the device. Brutes could be annoyingly subtle when they weren't going berserk, but they were not especially bright. The allowance for the panel to sag like it had was evidence to this. 'Lygotee reached for the other control the door owned and locked it shut. Then he called 'Pohamee with the comn unit within the matrix of his armor as he donned the parts he had removed.

"Leader?" The signatures of each comn unit always told the receiver who was calling- it helped tremendously when an irritated warrior who wanted to vent was contacted by a superior.

"'Pohamee… are you yet in your quarters?"

"No, Leader."

"I have come upon a problem involving the function of my door. Would you get an Unggoy up here to cut it open? It seems to have seized." 'Lygotee mentioned, casually.

'Pohamee hesitated, but despite his noncomprehenson of the situation, agreed anyway, figuring 'Lygotee would explain his rather odd tone considering the circumstances later. First off, why did he want out almost directly after going in? "Yes, Leader. Give me a moment to comply."

'Lygotee wondered how long he would have to wait, but impatience was not a virtue and especially not in this case. While he waited for rescue, he turned to the device on the floor to determine if it was explosive or merely harboring a tank of compressed toxins. If it was explosive, it would make a noise and leave a mess, but the subtleties of the Brutes were limited, so he began to doubt it would merely chase him out gagging on toxic fumes even before he was able to confirm the doubt. 'Lygotee wondered how many other rooms had been booby-trapped like his, and how many had entered them without realizing what he had.

Finally, the comn unit alerted him to an incoming transmission. "Leader. Stand away from the door."

"I am at a safe position from it, 'Pohamee. You may commence work." 'Lygotee responded, standing and turning to see the progress. If it triggered the mine somehow despite, he would have his armor and shields, but there really was no place in the room for him to seek cover from it. Anywhere was as good as the next place, and if it went off, there would be nothing he could do about it at all.

The bright phosphorescent line in the purple metal of his door grew in length slowly and gradually, but the mine on the floor never so much as blinked the little light-node again. When an oval had been successfully cut, the Elite took the shape from the hole and leaned it on the wall of the corridor while the Grunt went about manipulating his gear. 'Lavuree stepped through, and looked at each before speaking. "Someone has attempted to begin the fight I spoke of this night." Stepping aside so 'Pohamee could look in, 'Lygotee extended an arm to the defeated mine on the floor.

'Pohamee's eyes widened. "I have seen just such a device in my own quarters, Leader. I did not get the opportunity to step inside, however… was it responsible for sealing the door?"

'Lygotee shook his head. "No, I did that. After some scrutiny of the situation I determined it had been wired to the door operations and I feared to open the door a second time would cause detonation."

'Pohamee looked at it, them at 'Lygotee. "Leader… 'Lavuree and many others have already retired. How do we warn them without causing chaos and without causing some of them to activate their devices?"

'Lygotee contemplated that. "Tell them the corridors have been vented of atmosphere by the Brutes. Tell them to exit their quarters through the air cyclers above the rooms."

"Many will despise these orders, Leader- crawling through an air duct is far from honorable." 'Pohamee answered.

"It is nothing to do with the honor of the Sangheili to remain alive and circumvent the pitiful attempt at cleverness the Brutes have implemented, 'Pohamee- and this is not a strike. It is merely the means by which we will preserve our brothers until we do need a strike." 'Lygotee explained. "Tell them as much if you will. The Brutes have made their move… now it is our turn to deal."

'Pohamee nodded his head. "Yes, Leader." And with that he began to radio everyone he had numerals for and having them do the ones he didn't. 'Lygotee didn't like the idea of filling the air ducts with Elites either, but it was better than blowing them up while half-awake. There was simply no way of knowing how many rooms had been rigged, and how many would be crawling with the rest needlessly.

After a moment, and some feedback had happened, 'Pohamee turned to 'Lygotee again. "Leader… they are following your instruction. But they wish to know where they might exit their newfound travel means."

'Lygotee considered that. The lie to send them up there to begin with would complicate that… but there was one place the Brutes couldn't vent if they wanted to, even though they had yet to do anything of the kind anywhere; Hydroponics. He relayed as much to 'Pohamee. It was a fair enough location, and large enough to hold them all as well. It was also a place that no one would question, because it was only logical to assume such a place had air even if the rest of the Radiant did not.

Plants generated atmosphere of their own accord. 'Pohamee sent the information along, aware the Hydroponics chamber was enduring a 'night' cycle where the plants were in partial hibernation as like nightfall on a real planet, and the darkness would mask much of the influx of occupants.

"Leader, we cannot take the Brutes alone." 'Pohamee mentioned, after he had closed the comn channel.

"I am aware of the circumstances, 'Pohamee. Let me think- better, help me think." 'Lygotee replied. "In the meantime, we need to join our brothers in the Hydroponics chamber so they might not see we are in a place that is supposedly air-free."

"Yes, Leader."

"I'm with you." The Unggoy added, enthusiastically.