Anva looked out to sea. The majestic water and warm sand were like nothing on his planet. He savored all of these new pleasures.

He did not savor the means of which he got here.

Being a soldier had its perks: free food, cool weaponry, shiny armor… there was something about the orders he was given a few days earlier that troubled him.

Genocide. Those were his orders: complete genocide of VSL-184. He wanted to hate them, maybe even go AWOL this time, like with the siege of VAS-16.

Except the Prophets themselves had ordered this.

"Must they always be late?" Keha asked him.

"Not late. Busy," Anva replied. Other missions, other dropships.

"Screw that."

"Not your choice."

Keha never meant bad. Even though he was far ahead of Anva as far as rank went, accidents did happen. And it cost him his rank. Keeping his golden armor and sword, but reduced to frontline combat with worthless grunts and cowardly jackals.

Anva, on the other hand, was a brave leader. He wore black armor; that of a special operations captain. He led elites and grunts into battles which seemed hopeless, only to slaughter the opposing force.

To the Covenant, race did not matter. Allegiance did.

-----------------------------------

Fifteen days after the attack, and still no signs of transportation. Anva didn't seem to mind, but Keha did.

When Anva was in his dreamlike stasis, he would walk for hours, usually surprised at where he ended up. He found himself near a cove. The sound of the wash hitting the rocks, and echoing in the cove calmed him. Anva started to feel a little exhausted from walking in the sun for so long. He entered the cove and lay down.

A squeak rang out.

Anva got up, turned around and whipped a plasma pistol out. Nothing. He approached. As he got closer he could make out a crouched form. Then it was smaller.

He got close enough to see what the source of the noise was. It was a baby elite.

It was scared of him.

Come out, he whispered.

It didn't move.

"It's okay…" He dropped the gun. I won't hurt. He held his hands out like a father to child. And it came.

-------------------------

The baby was female, and, upon closer inspection, seemed to have received a burn on her arm.

Probably from a misfire, he muttered.

How this girl had survived the attack was beyond him… wait… what was she doing on the island in the first place.

He held the girl, and his hand passed over a strange bump. He looked.

On her chest there was a large burn. It formed a shape.

She was a heretic.