"Ten Huit!" He cried out to the men surrounding him, bringing them into line. The marines stood in two columns, each a single rank thick. The two lines of soldiers looked out across at each other, facing inwards, facing away from the bleak yet beautiful landscape of Eastern Africa. Beautiful indeed it was, the dusty hills, its wide and sprawling sub-savannah. Littered with a great multitude of different grasses and thorned, knotted bushes.
The men stood to attention, watching in silence as two figures began to pass between them. They were awaiting orders, orders from their acting Lieutenant, who in turn was awaiting his own orders from Fleet Admiral Terrance Hood. He was passing between the guardsmen, accompanied by his honoured and rather tall companion.
The man wore an officer's great cloak. Crème in colour, with a high neck collar. Five gold bars and silver stars, his insignia and rank, displayed proudly on his collar and shoulders, cleaned and gleaming in the evening sun. Well-polished boots, they seemed to glow orange almost in the light. Brimmed cap, adorned with the laurels and emblem of the navy.
As he came forward, his mind began to drift, and he looked up into the evening sky above. He watched the clouds, billowing and wandering across the deep orange sky, with streaks of light and shadow visible as the light of the African sun pushed its way through the dust laden sky. It was so peaceful now. The war over. The Covenant gone.
As he continued to gaze into the heavens above, walking between the procession of guardsmen, he wondered if there was something symbolic about it all. The pale and peaceful orange sky, the small and wisping clouds as they travelled leisurely across it. Symbolic perhaps, of a peaceful world in which he and the rest of humanity now lived. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't. He'd been growing slightly apathetic recently. But only slightly. And he would not forgive the Covenant for what they had done.
He stood there at the head of the procession now, standing by the monument, the fallen tail-fin of a powerful Longsword fighter. A redundant platform now, its toughness and impressive load-out capacity the only reason why the UNSC had produced it for so long. They were being pulled out of service now, replaced by swifter and more agile craft. Perhaps this was also symbolic of something, the ending of two different legacies. The ending of the Longsword series would be synonymous with the ending of another chapter of human history. A dark chapter, but one that was now over, and one that left the doors open for brave and bright new future.
"For us, the storm has passed." He finally began, removing his white brimmed officer's cap in sign of respect. He had collected himself, and was ready to end this ceremony.
"The war is over. But let us never forget those who journeyed into the howling dark, and did not return." This monument was commemorated not just to the war at large. But to its end, and in particular to one of the most reckless campaigns in all human history.
Hood turned his head, glancing at the monument, and in one moment seeing the murals and photographs of all those brave women and servicemen who had lost their lives. The price of victory was always costly. "Their decision, required courage beyond measure. Sacrifice, and unshakable conviction, and their fight...our fight!" He corrected himself, "Was not in vein."
And it had not been. The campaign, whilst reckless, had been successful. More successful than he could ever have hoped possible. It was saddening however that the cost of victory had been so high. "As we start to rebuild, this hillside shall remain barren. It shall remain a memorial to heroes fallen. They ennobled all of us, and they shall not be forgotten."
Many of the soldiers present could not help but feel moved by all this. Hood had chosen his words well. They were honest, and they were sincere. They would never forget this day.
Terrance Hood sighed, and composed himself once more. His speech over, he took his cap from under his arm, wearing it once more. Straightening out, he saluted. A salute to the tens of thousands, to those who would not see the results of their hard earned victory. The ceremony had come to an end. He was the last speaker, and all that was left was one final act of respect.
"Present arms!" The leader of the ranks of men called out again. He was Gunnery Sergeant Pete Stacker. A good man, a veteran, and he knew Lord Hood well. He had felt sincerely honoured that he had been chosen for this.
His men responded, and knew what to do next. They had drilled for weeks. They raised their rifles, each a new and flawlessly polished SR Battle Rifle, aiming into the sky and wandering clouds. The select fire weapons fired a single shot at each pull of the trigger, and the first gun salute rang out across the valley around them.
The volley could be heard for miles around. Across the dusty hills, the tracts of grass and knotted bushes, and atop the snow-capped peak of Mt Kilimanjaro herself. Hood stared out across the landscape as the second volley rang out. He stared at the great mountain. He thought it a shame that the memorial had not been placed there, placed atop of a beautiful yet mighty ziggurat. A monument to humanity, greater and more spectacular than anything human hands could ever build. It was a shame, but the valley and grasses were just as fitting. And were certainly a lot more subtle.
Once the final shots had ebbed away, the platoon of marines formed up, ready to march back off to base. It wouldn't be right to break discipline here, not to show disrespect to earth and her fallen heroes. It was also at this moment when another figure began to move.
Tall and imposing, his battle armour gleaming. Segmented and chromium in colour. Each panel, carved and etched, filled with as many alien patterns and hieroglyphs as could be covered. The metal glowed like a polished mirror, bathed and treated with countless ointments and unguents. Each metal panel was segmented and interlocking. Each the shape of an arrow, and ran across the entirety of his powerful body. Moving up his spine until they reached a solid, pointed cowl. The massive, curling hilt of his ancient sword swayed slightly as the individual came closer and closer to Terrance Hood. His four fingers, twitching with a nervous energy known to every warrior of his kind.
The Lord Admiral couldn't help but flinch and grimace. There were just some things that he'd adapt to! "I remember how this war started..." He began to say to the figure as he came to stand beside him. The sun was setting behind them both, casting long shadows. They were concealing this being's features in darkness. Making him look daunting, and sinister because of it.
"I remember what your kind did to mine!" He couldn't help but find venom and hardness sinking into his words. But, how could he not feel hate for a member of the Sangheili race? The injuries they had inflicted on humanity. The injuries which that race had inflicted on his. Because of this alien, Hood knew that he would never see his family again.
"I can't forgive you..." He said with his voice trailing away ever so slightly. He looked into the aliens eyes, finding the strangeness and the animalistic nature of them. His alien armour, his long and elongated neck, those four fanged and terrible mandibles, always twitching, always moving in a way that Hood would never be used to. But these were not the only attributes of Thel 'Vadam. There were other features about him as well, things that did not inspire fear and hate in his heart and mind.
"But..." Hood found himself saying as he stared into the Arbiter's eyes once more, sensing the thoughts and emotions racing through his alien mind. "...I thank you!" He finished, stretching out a hand and mentioning the alien to take it in his. This was a final symbol of peace, the final page of the chapter. It was also the last symbol he wanted to see today. He was growing sick of them!
"I thank you...for standing by him until the end." Neither had to use his name for the other to understand. It was one of the greatest tragedies of this memorial. "It's hard to believe he's dead" Terrance whispered as they finished the handshake. He and John had history, and he had always respected the man. It hurt him to think that he was also gone. After everything that man had given for humanity, and now he was dead. The victory had been so very bitter.
But Thel 'Vadam was not so sure. He had hunted Spartans for as long as the war had been waged. He had killed many, he had killed the one whose service tag was B-312. One of the greatest warriors he had ever seen, and he knew in his soul that he would not know another. Save for one.
He had met the ultimate soldier, the ultimate survivor, who had endured everything the terrible conflict had thrown at him. His comrade, and perhaps his friend. The Spartan whose service tag he had carved onto this memorial here with his very own claws.
This particular action kept playing through his mind. As soon as he had finished carving the inscription, he had felt uneasy. It had made him wonder, for the first time since the remains of the human vessel had impacted the earth. Had John actually been destroyed? He honestly didn't know, but, going by what the Spartan had survived so far, he had to wonder. Was he still out there somewhere?
"Were it so easy..." He whispered, thinking out loud as like Hood he gazed up at the reddening sky and the slow wandering clouds above. A sky he and his people had so very nearly come to destroy.
The Arbiter would not think about such things right now. These were actions that would haunt him for the rest of his days. And he would have to come to terms with them eventually. This was one of the reasons why he had been at this curious human ceremony today, reconciliation. But right now his mind was on other things, thoughts about his people, and his home world.
But there were also other thoughts he could not help. Ones more simple, and somewhat innocent as well. Thoughts of hope, faith, and loyalty. He couldn't help but wonder. What had become of the Demon since he had been lost?