AN: My first Halo fanfiction! I wanted to do something really different, and thusly this collection of one-shots was born! As said in the summary, I will be highlighting key events in Covenant history through the eyes of one member from each Sangheili state. This first one is features the 'Ahrmonro family (as seen below). Enjoy and remember to R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Halo universe, just my original characters. But if I did own the Halo universe, Guilty Spark, the Prophets, and the Brutes would've all died in a fiery explosion, and then their remnats would've been sucked into a black hole. I guess it's good that I didn't create the Halo universe, because then there would be no storyline.

"Footsteps"

POV- Torl 'Ahrmonro

9th Age of Reclamation, State of Ahrmonro, Sangheilios

"Father…" I half-growled, then wheezed, but when the meaning of his words finally caught up with me, I paused, alarmed. It was a grave mistake. The blow struck me hard in the side of the head, and I fell down, stars spiraling in my eyes. My narrow cheekbones ached.

"Weak," my father mused. He lent me an aiding hand, to which I took, but his wide grimace glared down at me in disappointment. "Son, I will say it again- your heart condition will do well to stay your life." At first I thought he meant I would die early. I caught my breath.

"I will join the military!" It was a ferocious snarl, but it did little to convince my father of my worthiness. For centuries, my ancestors had been granted military status, and, being my father's only son, I would too; I had no choice.

My father merely shook his head and turned to exit the training room, but not before pausing briefly to glance over his shoulder.

"Perhaps you will follow in my footsteps."

My father was one of the few Oracle Masters- an advisor to the Prophet of Regret and religious consultant to the Holy One's honor guard. He was well respected, and though not technically part of the military, was considered honorable enough. To follow in his footsteps would be a grand experience, thought to be an experience rival to that of fighting for the Great Journey; thought only by some.

My mother entered the room.

"Oh, Honey, look at you," her slender hands were immediately sent to tend to my swollen face. I gently pushed them away.

"Mother, I'm fine. Father made his point- perhaps I will consider it," my mother's hands fell abruptly to her sides.

"You mean as a civilian?" her puzzlement was etched across her narrow face.

"Perhaps as a consultant to some high-ranking Shipmaster or such," she raised her hand to touch my raised bruise. I laid my hand over it. "You will endorse me, right?"

"I shall," she said. "Now let me tend to that bruise."

9th Age of Reclamation Post-Great Schism, Aboard Sep. Battlecruiser, Begotten Angel

Not usually one to sit in a chair for hours, Shipmaster Crono 'Inanrar paced tensely around the holographic table projecting the space above The Ark. The Brute fleet was at least twice their size. Truth's ship was holding back beyond the enemy fleet. He hung his head and clutched the edge of the table, as he often did whilst deep in thought.

I gazed unsurely at the projection, tens of thoughts scrolling in my head.

We can't do this… this is suicide… we'll be shot down for sure, and then Truth will have won… the whole galaxy will be devoid of any intelligent life… my wife will die….

But I dare not speak them.

From some officer's station, Shipmaster Rtas 'Vadum's deep voice broke through the rigid atmosphere.

'All cruisers fire at will… burn their mongrel hides!'

"Fire!" 'Inanrar slammed his fist down onto the hologram, conveniently onto the projection that was Truth's ship. He swung his head towards his chest again and sighed, once again recessed in whatever thoughts plagued his mind.

I gazed at the table in shock. I saw their plan immediately- utilizing distraction while sweeping in from the side. Almost half of the cursed fleet was headed towards our sister ship, the Pious Inquisitor, which hung on the far rim of our fleet. It would be alone to face nearly fifteen ships.

"Shipmaster," I warned. He glanced up from his thoughts and at the projection.

"Fire on that cluster! Alert 'Vadum to reinforce the starboard side of his fleet,"

"Yes, Shipmaster," an officer answered.

"Move in!" 'Inanrar leaned towards the holographic projection of the Pious Inquisitor. The enemies were closing in fast. On the blue table, our ship's projection leaned towards the incoming ships.

Our guns gently rocked the Begotten Angel as we sent a barrage of plasma fire at the Brute bastards. Under concentrated fire from both the Begotten Angel and the Pious Inquisitor, one of the Brute ships fell in a matter of minutes.

"Shipmaster, one of our support ships has been shot down- the first to succumb to this accursed battle," one officer said.

"And the other support ships are…?" 'Inanrar left the question hanging as he searched the projection for the ships supposedly sent to aid them.

"It is possible that our message faced interference," I said. 'Inanrar shook his head.

"We would have been aware of such treachery. Besides, the Brutes aren't much for blocking transmissions during a battle," I leaned back on my hooves.

"Shipmaster!" I cried. The Brute ships were turning away from the Pious Inquisitor, and instead faced us.

"They've opened fire on us… only us!" one of the officers bellowed. "Their sustained fire will bring our shields down in approximately 3.5 minutes,"

"Shipmaster, the Shadow of Intent is leading a charge," I commented. A few of the officers glanced dubiously around at the projection, then quickly back to their posts as 'Inanrar gave them a wary look.

'Crono, I thought you might need some help,' 'Vadum's voice once again broke into the room through a channel.

"My gratitude, Shipmaster," 'Inanrar replied. Two more Brute ships fell.

"Shipmaster… they came too late. Our shields are falling!" an officer yowled. A few moments later, bright lights shed their orange menace over the control room, and consoles blared warning signals. The ship was racked with incoming fire.

It was at that moment that Crono 'Inanrar took his command chair, pressed one of the numerous buttons, and spoke to the entire population of the ship.

"Begotten Angel patriots, it is with my sorrow that none of you will return home. But your death will be most honorable and it is with certainty that Shipmaster Rtas 'Vadum will strike vengeance on these Brute mongrels. It has been an honor to command such a fine crew." He took his finger slowly off the button as a simply enormous explosion rocked the ship. A life support warning screeched and the bridge was bathed in crimson light.

"Shipmaster, we're falling out of orbit!" an officer said.

"Deck members, brace yourselves! 'Pewtruno," 'Inanrar addressed the officer in charge of communications, and who was possibly my best friend. "Notify the crew to do the same,"

"Yes, Shipmaster," Donra 'Pewtruno answered and tapped a series of buttons on his console. He then turned and gave me a look that read the terror in his face. He was young- he hadn't yet known the love or devotion of a female, and I knew that he was in charge of bringing home money for his orphaned sister. I vowed that if I lived through this, she would become my adopted daughter… I couldn't let her live so dishonorably.

"300 units until we crash. Shipmaster, it appears we will land in the middle of some desert. There is a large amount of brute equipment," another officer warned. 'Inanrar grabbed his chair and braced himself. I followed suit.

"Let us not worry about that yet," 'Inanrar said defiantly.

"Fifty units!" in a matter of seconds, I was thrown from my chair as our broken ship peeled off the edge of a mountain and slammed into the side of a sand dune. The crash was deafening, but through the haze, I heard a sickening sound. After I recovered, I turned and was startled at the sight before my eyes.

"Shipmaster?" I said warily. He was doubled over, leaning over the projection table. I could see that underneath him, there was a pool of purple blood. I gently moved one of his arms and gasped. "Are there any medics still alive?" I cried to the rest of the crew. Part of the table had been broken in the crash, and my leader had been impaled on it.

"Excuse me, Oracle Master," a Sangheili clad in white and red gently shoved me aside. I stepped back hastily and glanced around the broken room. Plasma spewed from a tube that was hanging down from the ceiling. Every single console was broken. Mountains of debris were piled up on the side. One of the doors was open, and I could see that the corridor was gouged- sunlight streamed in. From the wreckage rose one of the officers.

"Donra!" I called out, astounded. He was freeing himself from one of the piles of wreck.

He moaned. "Torl?" he said, then groaned in pain and leaned on one of the pillars, holding his head with his free hand. I ran over to him.

"I'm glad your alive,"

"The Shipmaster?" he asked.

"I'm no medic, but it doesn't look good," he 'hmmed' at my response.

When everyone in the bridge who was still alive was finally gathered, we assembled around the Shipmaster and sat in a public prayer as the medic worked.

"Torl," the Shipmaster rasped. The group dispersed and the medic walked past me, shaking his head slowly. "Torl," he repeated. I neared him.

"Shipmaster?" his death was nigh. I could see it in his ashen face, out of which his mouth was bleeding.

"If the Brutes don't find you… and if you make it home… I want you to teach my son,"

"Yes, Crono, I will,"

"Thank you for everything. All the knowledge you gave me… all of the laughs… it was a pleasure to have you as my advisor," despite the circumstances, I felt pride glow within me at the praise.

"Thank you, Shipmaster,"

"And tell your friend that I expect great things from him,"

"I will, Shipmaster," I dared not weep.

"Thank you…" his chest heaved and he let out his last breath. His shining amber eyes were incredibly glassy with death. I lay him down gently as Donra neared me.

"Will we take him with us?" he asked. I didn't turn to face him.

"He said that he expects great things from you," I sensed the surprised expression on his face. "I'm guessing that means he wants you to follow him in his footsteps… become a Shipmaster,"

"I've never aspired to uptake a role that grand," Donra said humbly. "He was like a father to me…"

"Yes, he was most benevolent to us all," I stood and turned to him. "No, we can't take him with us. It would slow us down, and the last thing he would want for us would be to be pounced upon by the Brutes. No, we'll bury him. A Shipmaster so divine should be buried next to his ship,"

The bridge members all heard this, and so we started the procession immediately, climbing out the gaping hole in the corridor. As his advisor and one of the closest people to him there, I spoke.

"He was most benevolent," I started, using the same term I had said to Donra. "An inspiration to us all; he inspired strength when he led us into battle. Never would he let his foes think that they had won. He inspired understanding when he always had intelligent words. He was the first of our crew to trust the Humans, and so far, he was not mistaken," around the sand dune where we were standing, a few chuckles and amused expressions were roused from the officers. "But most of all, he inspired honor. When one of us strayed, he guided us with examples of how to act like true Sangheili… not like puppets that the Prophets played with. He inspired us to do our best in the ways of warriors, and he will be missed," the body was laid in the shadow of the Begotten Angel, and was carefully buried in the midst of an adjacent sand dune.

"Not bad for an improvised speech," Donra said mildly. "Now, Oracle Master 'Ahrmonro, how exactly are we going to get back to the fleet?" I racked my brain. The only plausible chance of getting back to the fleet would be to be patient.

"We play the waiting game," I replied. He didn't look satisfied.

"And what if the Brutes find us first?" I glanced at the Sangheili still left- five of the seven officers including Donra, the medic, one technician, and one Oracle Master.

"Can you take three of the officers and the technician and get some weapons from the armory… preferably something long-ranged. I will take the others and scout around,"

"Very well," Donra nodded and dashed off with his squad of bridge officers, and one technician, into the wreckage.

"And if you find anyone…" I called to him. He turned back and nodded in acknowledgement.

"Let's go," the medic and the last officer followed me around the dunes. After a while of walking, my limbs fell, oddly, numb. It didn't take very long until a sudden ache joined the numbness.

"Not to be impolite, Oracle Master, but what exactly are we looking for?" the officer asked.

"Anything Covenant," I replied, groaning inwardly at the pain, centered around my chest. "I don't want the Brutes to find us first," then I spotted something tall and silver gleaming over the crest of a mountainous sand dune. "Over there," I said, pointing. Suddenly, the numbness and pain subsided.

We quickly travelled up the dune and were startled to see the huge structures on the other side. Several large silver pylons were located around a ring. In the center was a bowl filled with sand and…

"Forerunner structures," I whispered. "There's bound to be Brutes down there, and a way to communicate with the fleet. Let's go back and gather all the survivors."

The sun was halfway across the sky as we returned to the crash site. "You found a structure." Donra stated. I was surprised.

"Yes, and not too far from here. How did you know?"

"A feeling," he shrugged. "By the way, we found over fifteen survivors, and gathered enough weapons for all of them,"

"Very good. Now let's see if we can relay a message through the structure."

By the time we got back to the Forerunner structure, the sun was nearing the horizon. A sharp pain radiated through my chest, worse than the aching I'd experienced earlier. Gradually, I began to feel dizzy.

"Ugh," I groaned. Donra glanced at me.

"Heat getting to you?" he asked. "Sorrow? Worry that the fleet won't find us?" He looked at me again as the numbness returned. "Torl, you don't look too good," I didn't feel too good either. I was sweating profusely and my chest ached. And I knew exactly what was going on.

"My heart condition," I forcibly whispered as I collapsed.

"Medic!" I heard Donra yell as I lapsed into unconsciousness.

Aboard Sep. Carrier, Shadow of Intent

The white lights that engulfed me also blinded me. I shielded my eyes and struggled to get up.

"No, no, Torl. Don't get up," though my ears were tender, I recognized the voice of Donra.

I spoke his name quietly and groaned at the effort. "Where in the Gods are we?"

"We're on the Shadow of Intent, friend. We're on our way home," joy filled me for the first time in years. Once more I struggled to get up, but Donra gently pushed me down again.

"Let me go. I have to plan for how I'm going to take care of Crono's son,"

"You'll have time," he said reassuringly. "I will help you if I have to,"

"Did they tell you anything about my heart?"

"They said that you can't go on any extravagant missions anymore," he chuckled. "But that shouldn't be a problem,"

"Why not?"

"Because Truth is dead, and all of his lies have been ceased," Donra's voice was elevating with his evident happiness. I could hardly believe my ears.

"We did it? Who killed him?"

"The Arbiter,"

"What about the Ark?"

"Destroyed, along with the new Halo,"

"There was another Halo?"

"I'll tell you the story later,"

"And the Humans?" Donra paused.

"Rebuilding. Political ties have not been established yet, but there are some members of the Council who have been talking about trade and commerce, and possibly a future permanent alliance,"

"So we really did it? We changed history, and now peace will prevail?" I inquired, now quite tired.

"Yes. Peace will prevail," I slept that day, dreams fleeing my exhausted mind. But at least the darkness was filled with happiness.

Epilogue- Torl's Journal, 1st Age of Constitution, state of 'Ahrmonro, Sangheilios

Journal Entry #77

It is now one year since the Great Schism ended in our prevailing. Happy anniversary! Though of course it is also the anniversary of the death of Shipmaster Crono 'Inanrar, and such heroes shall be missed dearly. In honor of our fallen, our new government has named this day to be an international holiday of feasting and thankfulness, much like the Human's holiday of "Thanksgiving". In addition to that, our government has declared a new Age be introduced alongside the seven Ages. It is to be called the "Age of Constitution", Constitution being a Human word meaning "temperament or establishment"… a suiting word to our current times of well-being and peacefulness.

Speaking of the Humans, it has been announced that our two races, Sangheili and Human, to be sided in an alliance, a brotherhood, as we discover new wonders in the galaxy together. Trade ships have been dispatched from both parties, and the Commerce Union of our world has high hopes that trade will continue for quite a long time.

Among other things, I am to be enrolled in an institute intent on procuring representatives and senators from each state in an attempt to create a central government amongst our traditional, council-governed states. Our aristocracy has lost its touch, and our new government will work through something called "democracy", another Human word. It appears the Humans have influenced our growth more than anyone ever thought.

My good friend Donra 'Pewtruno has indeed become a Shipmaster, in charge of a ship in a fleet to search for forerunner structures and safeguard them. His daughter has become the first female Sangheili since before the Sangheili- San 'Shyuum War to take the role of Shipmaster (in her case, Shipmistress). Her reputation entails harder work than the rest of us.

In conclusion, I would like to address that the flood have been almost completely desecrated, and we have now dispatched roving ships to detect sites where infection may occur, and lock them down. Also, by word of newly elected Leader of the Council, Thel 'Vadam, "all forerunner installations to be guarded against overly curious, space-faring races, in fear that they may inadvertently activate the Rings." Like the Humans say, "curiosity killed the cat".

-Future representative, Torl Ahrmonro

AN: Congratulations to me! First chapter down! I hoped you like! BTW, the forerunner structure was either Sandtrap or Sandbox, that's really up to you to decide (they're pretty much the same thing). BTW(again), the second paragraph of the journal entry is fancy talk that the Elites and humans are buddies now (yay). BTW(again, again), I used comparison in width of face to show that Torl was more similar in temperament to his mother than his father.

P.S. Bungie, I honor you as I name the journal entry "Journal Entry #77"! And for all of you who don't get it... look it up!