A/N: Keeping up the pace, don't get spoiled but enjoy it thoroughly!-Outreach117
"On the blood of our fathers. On the blood of our sons."-Sangheili Ultra's Mantra
Chapter 1
Star System J729, uncharted. Potential Forerunner artifact planet orbit. 1923 hours October 3rd, 2586.
Rhokte 'Antra checked the systems in his Seraph scout ship the Pyre Light for perhaps the seventh time as he completed a third orbit around the planet below him. The world was rather unremarkable from the naked eye in orbit, but was beautiful at the same time if one knew what to look for. The sensors were alive with activity, multiple ruins of Forerunner structures dotted the landscape below, although it was not the planet or even the remains of the Gods that interested him. Rather it was station that remained in geosynchronous orbit that was just coming into view over the horizon that interested him.
Switching his displays and magnifying the now visible station, Rhokte felt a wave of awe and inspiration wash over him as indeed all Sangheili felt in the presence of artifacts of the Gods, except this one was special. Rhokte was on a mission, his Right of Ascension, essentially his passage into adulthood that any Sangheili seeking status must go through. There was no real format for the Right, one simply had to be able to prove their worth to the Sangheilian people in some manner.
For the favored, that may mean something as simple as a display of combat skill or marksmanship in what was usually a less-lethal battle against other hopefuls. For those who were on the fringe like Rhokte, it meant taking a Seraph out on a perilous journey to bring back some great relic or artifact of the Forerunners, the Gods. Unfortunately for Rhokte, the vast majority who took the path he had set out on never returned, or returned with relics that were marginally acceptable in value. His situation was unique, he had to make a statement, he had to do something special.
He had been in space alone in his Seraph for almost three months, jumping from system to system, hoping to find anything of value, and here in the orbit he believed that he may just have stumbled across the proverbial Grail of relics, if his understanding of the human word grail was correct. He didn't know exactly what was inside of value, but the last system that he had flown through had a small Forerunner research facility located in orbit. The environment of the station had long since fallen into disrepair and disarray, and it had been an arduous three hours in zero-gee and vacuum trying to gleam anything of value from the computer banks. He had almost come back empty-handed but right before the ancient computers died completely he had been able to dig out a few coordinates of at least what he understood to be a sacred artifact, a great weapon, even to the Forerunners themselves.
Unfortunately the coordinate data was hardly useful as it is, it had taken insurmountable amounts of calculations to factor in the hundreds of thousands of years of galactic drift since the galaxy hardly stayed still, and almost half a dozen jumps into barren star systems until finally locating the station here. Even then he had no idea if it was really the right station or if it contained what he believed, but it was an opportunity.
Standing up from the oversized seat Rhokte took an opportunity to stretch his back, hours of sitting had made him restless and stiff, and deep down he craved nothing more than to be planetside back on Sanghelios, especially with a triumph march. Turning back towards the console he set the Seraph on an rendezvous vector with the station, and he worked his way back through the cramped confines of the Pyre Light towards his quarters to start suiting up. Entering into the lone quarters he quickly disrobed and began to assemble his armor piece by piece. Since he had no idea of the stability or life support ability of the Forerunner station, Rhokte opted for his modified suit of Ranger armor, complete with a fully sealed environment and pressure helmet. Sangheili armor was easy enough to don on one's own. There was an undersuit that provided both protection against vacuum and extremes in temperature, as well as resistance to both plasma and high-speed projectiles. The various armor pieces from the venerable combat harness, gauntlets, gators, shoulder pauldrons and helmet simply snapped and locked into place overtop the bodysuit, the armor pieces sealing to the suit via a molecular bond that provided a perfect seal yet allowed a complete freedom of movement.
Lowering the helmet over his head and snapping the seal closed, the HUD lit up providing him basic information on his armor's status, namely shield strength and the integrated motion-tracker built into the helmet itself. Rhokte kept the shields powered down for the time being, at least not until his was ready to disembark. Walking over to a weapons locker he selected out his armament. On his right thigh he strapped a plasma rifle, having long ago appreciated the rapid-fire ability of the weapon to efficiently drain the shielding system of any opponent. He then attached a quartet of plasma grenades to his left thigh armor, the magnetic plates keeping the grenades in place. For his primary weapon Rhokte selected the exotic needler rifle along with a couple handfuls of magazines which he latched to the magnetic plates on his chest harness for quick access. While most in the Sangheili military had long adopted the Type-51 carbine for the faster muzzle velocity and better shield penetration, Rhokte preferred the needler rifle's ability to supercombine on any unshielded opponent, even at range.
Slinging the still unloaded rifle to his back, Rhokte closed the weapons locker except for one final and very unusual addition to his already impressive armament, a human combat knife. It had been a gift from father, claiming that it had saved his life once when he was very young, and that while Rhokte wasn't especially superstitious, a noble weapon was a noble weapon. The blade shined silver, the edge having long ago been shaped to molecular sharpness thanks to endless attention on Rhokte's part. While physical blades were a real rarity in the Sangheili military as well, Rhokte had always appreciated the quiet simplicity of a simple sharp blade that didn't give off the characteristic crackle, glow and hum from an energy blade, a fact that had made him absolutely lethal and stealthy, even without the use of active camouflage.
Rhokte stood there admiring the blade for another long moment, feeling the balanced weight in the palm of his hand until a beep from the cockpit brought him back to awareness of the mission at hand. Twirling the blade in his five-fingered hand in a fashion that only a human could, Rhokte 'Antra walked back towards the waiting cockpit and his birthright. I will make father proud, he thought to himself. I will make Sanghelios see. I am Reclaimer!
