Disclaimer: I do not own Halo nor any of it's characters. Only those of my making are mine at heart.

Veneratio Jiralhanae?

Ninth Age of Reclamation, Step of Silence \ Covenant Holy City High Charity

Seven Hundredth Twenty-second Hangar Bay, Level Eight-B

Major Anu 'Faluqanee stood at the ready as a Phantom-Class Dropship entered the hangar bay. He gave his sangheili and unggoy team a terse nod and moved directly below the Phantom's gravity lifts and waited for them to open and drop their cargo. Instead of a wave of cargo modules floating gently down the purple beam, a Jiralhanae with brown fur appeared in front of him. Faluqanee's unggoy squealed in terror and hid behind each other. He and his fellows merely opened their mandibles in displeasure. "Out of the way Jiralhanae, you are blocking the cargo," one of his teammates snarled. The jiralhanae turned and sneered at them and turned away, walking in a slow deliberate fashion. "You have no right to order me around sangheili," replied the sneering beast as more of his comrades were beamed down, the cargo modules stacking up behind them. "Never call us by out title with your filthy mouth jiralhanae!" roared 'Faluqanee his mandibles splayed open in anger. The jiralhanae laughed, "And what will you do, sangheili?" Faluqanee pulled out his blue plasma rifle, as did his teammates and mirrored by the brutes. The tension began to mount as he began to pull the trigger.

"What is going on here?"

They turned to the source of the voice, a large brute carrying a cargo module under his giant arm, his oddly calming voice breaking the tension of the to be skirmish, "Put down your arms. To fire in a sacred outskirts of the Holy City is sacrilegious!" Grudgingly both parties reattached their rifles back to their belts, the brute was more massive than his team, with silver gray fur and a wizzened look upon his appearance, "As I said, what is going on down here?" "You do not have the-" began a sangheili as Faluqanee cut him off, "These jiralhanae will not move out of the way for us to begin our work, and whats more they begin to mock us...Commander." He glanced at the other brutes, expecting them to be lazily sneer in victory, instead saw them cringed. Every brute commander would naturally wave them away and set them on a menial task, but apparently, this one Jiralhanae was different. "Really? I apologize for the inconvenience, Major. Almanacus, apologize to the Major, won't you?" The sangheili team and their unggoy were completely caught by surprise by the fact a brute commander was commanding one of his fellows to apologize to a mutual enemy.

The brute looked pleadingly at his commanding officer, and grudgingly replied in clenched teeth, "I-I am sorry for the inconvenience I have caused you...Major."added the brute with a glare from the wizzened jiralhanae. "Apology accepted," replied Faluqanee with a rather bemused expression upon his features.

The fact that the brute had actually humiliated one of his lesser officers in front of the sangheili was beyond comprehension. But suspicious. And extremely amusing and entertaining, nonetheless. "I must be going now Major. I apologize once more for the trouble," rumbled their commander in a genuinely honest voice. He led his brutes, and the kig-yar and unggoy that had been beamed down via gravity lift, away.

Giving the orders to look through cargo as per usual regulations, Faluqanee looked back at the commanding brute and decided it would be useful to know this particular jiralhanae's name. "Jiralha-er, Commander!" The brute looked back and turned, "Yes, what is it Major? Was the apology not enough?"

"It was, though I wish to ask a bit more," Faluqanee replied respectfully, "What is your name?"

He knew that this was most unlikely thing ever to happen, a sign of respect was something, but to ask for one's name was a sign of something else. And the sangheili knew the brute knew this as well.

"I...I am known as Recolitus," he said after a moments tension, "Major...?"

"Faluqanee."


Authors Note: I know, I know, its short. but it is a start. R&R, all critics allowed.