Author's Note: Hi. My name is PROphecy999 and this is my very first fan-fiction, never mind for Halo. After months of drafts and re-writing - and thanks to my very helpful beta-reader 'LionofPerth' - I have finally come up with a version that I'm happy with. I hope you are too. Reviews would be appreciated.
Prologue
August 2571
Aboard the Super-Carrier 'Valiant Guardian'
Eidos Epsilon System (Human Designation)
"Greetings SPARTANs, have a seat"
The four members of the newly re-instated Red Team milled into the purple room. They sat at a rectangular table, where there were large chairs furnished with green. The SPARTANs shifted uncomfortably in their seats, they were clearly designed for Sangheili.
As the SPARTANs gazed around the room, there was a sense of uncertainty in the atmosphere, a real aura of dread. It wasn't helped by the fact half of the lights were turned off.
There were many consoles with bright flashing holograms, containing writings in an alien language. Their gaze came to rest on a large chair in the centre on the room, floating a few inches above the metal floor lit indigo by lights.
A heavily armoured figure sat in the chair. The main source of light for the surprisingly desolate control room originated from behind the chair. The SPARTANs saw the figure as a dark silhouette, with shadings of light purple around the edges. The armour it wore gave off blue sparks of energy that streaked across the chest plate every so often
"I hope you are aware of our situation." The creature stood up and paced around the room. As it neared one of the consoles, it lightly touched one of the holograms, causing it to shine brighter.
The SPARTANs' collective focus was still on the alien.
They were able to make out dark brown skin under a golden faceplate. Instead of a mouth, there were four mandibles protruding from an ellipsoid-shaped head. The insides of these mandibles were dark pink and lined with sharp, carnivorous teeth.
Its finger swayed to the side, dragging the hologram with it. The creature then proceeded to read the contents of the file concealed behind it. A look of exasperation flickered across its face before it regained its composure.
It turned around and looked at the SPARTANs.
"We are losing." The creature turned its head away from the SPARTANs, forcing itself to look away from their slightly shocked faces.
A Sangheili, and one in a rather high position of power, just admitted it were losing. The SPARTANs were not used to hearing this incredibly honour-bound species even think about failure, never mind confessing in front of Humans.
"The situation must be really bad" thought Joshua-029, leader of Red Team.
"They would never admit it, the ones fighting on the battlefields, but their foolishness blinds them."
The alien used a small step to safely sit back down on the floating chair.
"But I have been in many situations where the order to retreat was too much for the young ones under my command. They always stayed to fight, claimed they could hold the enemy at bay. They were looking for glory. And what good is glory and honour to a dead body?"
The SPARTANs just stared at the creature. Joshua was unsure whether their culture harboured rhetorical questions. He assumed they did as the creature began talking again, although in a different tone.
"I, Imperial Admiral of the Sangheili, know that my comrades need allies if we are to protect this planet and its innocents." The Elite raised its arm and pointed at the SPARTANs with a stubby finger. The finger was much larger than its Human counterpart, and seemed to be covered in thicker, darker skin than the alien's face.
"You are Legends among the Humans, and Demons among the Covenant. Your media claims a single SPARTAN is an even match for a whole legion of Covenant." It paused before adding,
"I can see why, because I personally fought alongside the best of your kind during the final days of the Covenant"
The Elite stood up once more, but this time looking much more pitiful. Its head hanged low, and its limbs were loose. Its left hand only contained three of the usual four fingers. This Elite had definitely had its fair share of combat.
"Now the damned Brutes seek nothing but revenge." It looked into Joshua's eyes, searching for some sign of helpfulness.
"They attack our colonies with renowned vigour, decimating our troops. I know we have wronged you in the past, but we were blinded by the traitorous Prophets. And as you Humans say, two wrongs do not make a right. I sincerely hope you will think about this."
The door opened with a small whooshing noise. Everyone in the room turned to see a heavily built man in a black suit. Two silver emblems were emblazoned on his shoulder: the naval insignia of Captain and the iconic eye inside a pyramid that stood for ONI . Heavy wrinkles of fatigue lined his forehead; his eyes were dark in colour and had lost their twinkle during what must have been many years of active duty.
"What do we get out of it?" His voice was deep and gruff, and sounded as if it was hardly used.
"Glass cup to door?" thought Colin-G-180 to himself, a small smile upon his lips.
"Whatever you need" Answered the Elite, looking at the man through weary eyes.
"Anything?"
"Yes, but..."
The Captain turned towards the SPARTANs. Effectively stopping the Elite who thought he might finally gain something out of this.
Andrew Wilson scratched the back of his neck, apparently deep in his thinking.
"I'll have to talk to the brass about lettin' you four go for a couple of days, and as for your end of the bargain Mr Imperial Admiral," He pronounced the words 'imperial admiral' slowly, almost spitting the words out forcefully "I think I know what they'll be wantin'."
"I shall be awaiting your reply." The Elite looked on as the five humans found their feet and left the large room. The Imperial Admiral was once again left alone, to wallow in his own despair.
"If they help us get back Ancora, the councillors might pardon me" He thought, "Or, they need not find out."