Justification
Déjà vu...it was something he'd got used to.
At least he thought it was déjà vu, because only hearing the word used in passing by your prey before de-cloaking and disembowelling them with an energy sword left much for interpretation. But as far as Field Commander Orlan 'Gotomee understood, the term referred to a sense of familiarity with past events in the present. And leading his forces against the last human stronghold on the world they called Pegasus VI, he was definitely feeling such a thing. He'd carried out such an action dozens of times, and would no doubt carry it out dozens more.
Then again, he thought bitterly, there is a slight difference this time.
The Prophet of Regret had made his intentions clear that the Forerunner artefact was to be left intact, that the vermin were to be swept clear before its holy scriptures could be accessed. Fair enough, and Orlan couldn't fault such a tactic. However, the impetuous san 'shyuum had shown just how impetuous he could be, sending numerous scouting teams towards the structure, all of which had fallen to the humans stationed there. As such, Regret's actions had made it clear that the structure was of vital interest to the Covenant and the humans had set up shop, understanding that it was a place where they could bleed the attackers dry.
The Writ of Union is overrated, thought the sangheili bitterly as he viewed the battle from his Wraith, a horde of unggoy surging forward as cannon fodder. Not exactly the most original tactic in the world, but the relic was so damn well fortified that he was beginning to suspect that he'd win by depleting his enemy of ammunition rather than any deep tactical insight.
But surely there's a better way to do this?
Orlan flexed his mandibles. There had been a better way to do this, but Regret had removed all chance of that back when the campaign began. Still, at least he'd authorized the use of Scarabs for this attack, one such walker providing support for the unggoy as they surged forward, its main cannon pounding away at the vermin's fortifications while kig-yar and sangheili sharpshooters helped suppress the infantry. The vehicle was soaking up a lot of fire, but that was probably just as well in the long run. Shadows and Wraiths surged forward to the kill zone and the Field Commander wanted as many of them to reach it as possible. And with his enemies too focussed on the Scarab to pay them much attention, it looked like this would be the case.
Maybe this is it, thought Orlan. Maybe this is the moment of our triumph...
The Scarab stopped moving.
Or not.
Initially, the sangheili had no idea what had happened, why the Scarab and the rest of the heavy armour were standing still, not firing, why the unggoy had stopped short, checking their weapons. Still, considering that the Banshees and Seraphs that had been flying overhead by way of surveillance were now falling like scrub grubs in the midst of maintenance and his aide Dala 'Monoree warning him of unusual energy readings, Orlan understood. An EMP. An electromagnetic pulse that had made his vehicles as dead than a slaughtered thorn beast and his ground soldiers defenceless. And all the while the humans kept firing, their weapons either not possessing enough electronic components to be significantly hindered (he wouldn't know, only the huragok ever showed any interest in such junk) or equipped with shielding. Either way, the body count for his forces began to stack up.
"Lances, fall back!" Orlan yelled into his radio, praying to the gods that his soldiers could still receive transmissions. "Fall back to our position and-..."
"Countermand the retreat!" came a voice. "Keep up the attack! I want that relic in our hands by the sundown!"
Orlan blinked. His troops' radios were working? That was a relief. But who among them would press to keep up the attack? Unless...
"This is the Prophet of Regret!" continued the voice. "Maintain position and continue the assault!"
"Prophet, that's not an option," said the sangheili, tuning the frequency to the san 'shyuum's carrier in orbit. "The humans have used an EMP and we've lost command and control. I'm therefore pulling out for now."
"Unacceptable! This is cowardice! Stupidity! Get back there and-..."
Orlan cut him off. He had more important things to worry about.
"That was blatant insubordination! I ordered you to take that relic and you flatly refused to! I'm a hair's breadth away from...are you even listening to me!?"
Orlan blinked. He hadn't been listening and his facade of interest had apparently let him down.
Always knew I'd never get on the Council.
"Oh please, take all the time you want to answer," sneered the Prophet, leaning forward from his gravity throne. "It's not as if you don't have better things to do."
Orlan growled, a sound mirrored by the two jiralhanae who flanked the Hierarch. It wasn't an arrangement that either of them was happy with, but if Truth wanted to station primitive apes on their ships, so be it.
"It was a tactical necessity," said the Field Commander cordially, deciding that being direct was the best way to go. Regret had summoned him up to the ship personally, so getting straight to the point was probably the quickest way to escape another one of the Prophet's tirades.
"A tactical necessity?" Regret asked. "Do explain."
Orlan nodded. "The humans detonated an EMP and robbed me of my heavy armour. There was no point in continuing the attack at this point, especially in light of the infantry's weapons also being-..."
"They still had enough numbers to reach the battleline!" Regret retorted. "And if they die, they die for the Covenant! That is their purpose, to serve our conglomeration."
Orlan's eyes narrowed. He could see what this was about...
"Perhaps," he said slowly. "But keep in mind that they could serve the Covenant by living if you hadn't jumped the gun (Regret opened his mouth to object but Orlan kept going). And if they still died, would they be serving the Covenant? Or would they be serving your ambitions to gain even more recognition in the Council!?"
The jiralhanae roared at this point, their fur laced with sweat. For all the power Orlan wielded on the ground, Regret was still the alpha male here. And in the context of their primitive culture, the sangheili could seem to be challenging him.
Regardless, Regret held up a three fingered hand, keeping the apes at bay. His gaze met Orlan's, gray eyes boring into orange ones.
"I'd be careful if I were you, Field Commander," he said slowly. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that some of the respect due to me is being applied to your enemy. Certainly you have been most...reactive, to their tactics."
Orlan flexed his mandibles. "Perhaps. Certainly they have established an impressive defence and-..."
"Our enemies do not deserve admiration!" Regret thundered. "They deserve the mercy of cleansing fire for being weak! Now go down there and provide it for them!"
Orlan flexed his fists, the only thing keeping him at bay from attacking the Prophet was the knowledge that in light of the jiralhanae, he wouldn't live long enough to savour the moment. And having learnt back on the planet that discretion was at times the better part of valour, he bowed and left.
Regret had made his position clear, though if he wanted to assure Orlan of the motives for their war, he'd failed spectacularly. So were the rest of the Prophets really, who instead of giving the original distinct reasons for genocide (destroying the relics on their world and destroying it along with an Oracle) were relying on far more vague and lofty notions. The Hierarchs admittedly went back to the old reasons, but the rest of the san 'shyuum...it was as if only Truth, Mercy and Regret had any idea as to why such conflict was necessary. The lekgolo had committed a similar transgression and were welcomed into the Covenant, were they not?
Orlan didn't know. What he did know however, was that Regret had used a lack of martial prowess as justification for extermination. But if that was indeed a valid reason...
...then what spared the san 'shyuum?
