(Red-098)
[Date]-[November 4, 2547]
[Time]-[1039 Hours – Standard Military Time]
[Location]-[On Unknown Ring-Shaped World]
Approximately two hours had passed since 098 and the Elite Zealot fell through the crackling blue sphere that 098 believed to be some type of portal. The Elite was dead, but 098 wasn't, and he intended the aforementioned fact about his fate to remain present for as long as possible. Of course, it would take more than a fall to kill a SPARTAN, so 098 wasn't skipping around like joyful Grunt – surveillance had revealed that Grunts expressed emotions like little princesses at times.
098 wouldn't have skipped around – he still had the cut wound on his chest, courtesy of the Zealot. But even without the injury, expressing physical emotions went against both the regulations set by 098 himself, and those set by Mendez.
Two hours wasn't what 098 originally estimated to be the time it would take for him to reach the floating Forerunner tower. It didn't help that about three packs of indigenous predators ambushed him respectively. They all fell quickly, but 098's wound was protesting more than an animal welfare committee.
098 thought back on it and realized that the predators were the only extraterrestrial lifeforms other than the Covenant to have ever attacked him. Even the massive Guta on Reach knew to keep their distance during SPARTAN training exercises. They became more of a problem when Mendez started sending the SPARTANs up against the hulking beasts.
098's destination, the hovering tower atop a broad, smoothly curved anti-gravity base, became more distinguishable as he got closer; its features more evident.
The architecture of the structure was similar to that of the massive structure he was in back on Quaint. Seams evenly lined substantial points of the tower's architect, extensive engravings went along the exterior of the tower, and braces and archways surrounding every retracting or protruding section. The top of the anti-gravity well was surrounded by a massive, decorative, curved border with blue pulses of light speeding around the border without any source of connection with the boundary.
Surrounding the well was a near-visible compound with a number of buildings. The exact features couldn't be determined by 098 as a tall perimeter wall surrounded the compound and tower base, wide rectangular towers at each intersecting corner. 098 could only make out these small details through zooming his visor to its maximum range. And even then, the distance hampered his efforts to examine the compound adequately. However, 098 swore he saw movement in the tower, but he couldn't be sure.
The movement was probably more of the hovering Synthetics that 098 encountered earlier. Two approached him as he was traversing down a cliff-side, examining him with their two "arms" twitching as the blue light from their center eye grew in intensity to single some happening. They didn't stay around long before speeding off back to the same tower that was 098's destination.
Since he was heading to the tower, 098 wasn't going to wait around for any outcome to the two Synthetics' evaluation of him, and kept moving. They were faster than he was, and 098 had little to no doubt that they could find him if they needed to; this was their world, after all.
Traveling to the tower had given 098 a visual treat. He wasn't one to stop and take in the view, but this ring-world had too many alien sights. Fantastic foreign scenes.
Working his way down the cliffs and hills, 098 came across more than a few beautiful views of the terrain. There was the feeling of being on top of the world. Ironically, 098 had been on top of worlds before – not in a literal sense.
It wasn't just the view. There was also the wildlife of the world. Alien herds roamed the hills and plains, paying no attention if he had to go across that plain or hill to reach his destination. The young of the herds even played around 098 without their elders worrying. One baby alien even came up and sniffed 098 before bouncing around like a dog, as if asking 098 to play. It eventually ran back off to its mother after 098 ignored it for a long enough, but it was persistent.
There was also a large lake he came across with dozens of different species of alien animals amassing around it to drink and feed on the luscious grass and weed that surrounded the edge of the lake. It was an amazing site. Even predators stopped for a drink and to rest without any of the animals raising an eye in concern. The children from the predator herds even played with those of the herbivores, having fun with those they would hunt and kill years later. The world 098 walked on defied multiple laws of nature.
It was very reminiscent of Reach, when 098 would observe the different animal species interact in near lakes and other points of interest in their undeveloped minds. 098 used to study the behavior, but Linda would often shoot off a round from a sniper rifle to scare the herds back into the forest, effectively annoying the hell out of 098. Mendez also got gradually more irritated when it kept happening, getting increasingly aggressive when none of his men could find out how Linda continued to keep breaking into the armory and stealing a sniper and ammunition for it.
He didn't hear the steps nor did his armor's enhanced sound detection systems pick it up, but 098 heard the all too familiar Elite translated voice come from behind him. "Demon? Turn. But refrain from shooting."
(Contact confirmed. Engaging.) Without a second thought, 098 spun around and opened up at the Elite, his DMR booming as its rounds left its barrel, sending the weapon kicking back into 098's armored shoulder. (Target: Elite. Class: Major. Threat Level: Moderate.)
The rounds bounced off of the Elite's shields as it just stood there, arms crossed while shaking its head. Realizing that his DMR was ineffective against it, 098 sprang to a nearby boulder that was, fortunately, large enough to conceal his entire body from the Elite's return fire that surprisingly didn't appear.
Once in cover, he ejected the empty clip of his DMR, letting it drop to the ground before slamming in another clip. All the while, he was leaning near the edge of the boulder, ready to peer out when the moment was prime.
"Listening before shooting is not a concept possible for your race, hm? That explains a lot," The Elite said as 098 slung his DMR over his back, pulling out his M6D and hoping the pistol would be more practical. Albeit, if the DMR had a hard time, then it was unlikely anything else would work. But there was little more choice in the box for 098 to pick. Continuing as the SPARTAN readied, the Elite said, "As you may have observed, I am not returning your meeting gesture. Yet, you don't wonder-"
Before the Elite could finish, 098 leaned the upper part of his body out of cover, letting his M6D roar his rage. The Elite's hissing of frustration was flooded out by the pistols explosive fire but was heard for a second when 098 leaned back into cover, slamming another clip into his M6D before leaning back out.
It was only a couple of seconds, but the two Synthetics 098 encountered earlier had proven their speed yet again. They flanked the Elite, hovering just above its broad shoulders. A transparent beam was being projected from the center eye of the Synthetics onto the Elite. It created what 098 finally saw as an extra energy shield layer which was fluctuating from the Magnums fire, but showing no signs of failing.
In a change of engagement tactics, 098 shifted his aim to the Synthetics, opening fire on the closest one, the same effects as his fire on the Elite following suite.
Before 098 could finish thinking up a new plan, he froze and not by choice. 098 couldn't move his head, arms, legs, anything, and he slowly tilted over until he fell to the grassy ground. 098's body didn't go limp upon hitting the ground. His armor was possibly in something akin to lockdown. Feeling didn't leave his body, and he could move his limbs and digits a bit with what inch of space the interior of his armor gave him. But the armor couldn't move, and 098 relied on his armor all too much.
"Is he secure?" The Elite asked, its mandibles clicking with barks and growls. The verbal sounds coming from the Elite was all flooded out by the rough sounding translated voice that masked the Elite's natural language with one 098 could understand; English.
In reply, the Synthetic beeped.
"Grand. Now, Demon..." Hearing the Elite kneel next to him, every single instinct of 098's fiber exploded as they attempted to get 098 to move and kill the Elite. So many foreign and alien emotions surged across 098, and he began to worry. (A repeated progress? There may be another split if such occurs.) "I am aware of your translation device. And I am aware of your hatred of me," The Elite continued. "But I hate you more; after all, Demons lack the capacity to feel emotions, correct? I hate to be the one to say so, but despite our mutual hatred of one another, we require you help. Do not take this as a trap; you would be dead if I desired it so... I do wish your death, but I want another thing of more meaning to me. Also, these Sentinels will protect you over me no matter the circumstances. So only killing you will not be an option. Belay any and all desires you have to end my life. If you don't, you will never leave this ring alive. Sentinel, release the Demon but lock him back up if he persists in killing me."
One of the Synthetics – referred to as a "Sentinel" by the Elite – beeped in reply just as 098's stiff limbs loosened. As soon as he could move his legs and arms, 098 kicked-up to his feet. Once he was stable, he spun around and leaped back in case the Elite just had a thing for taunting its foe – it was not a foreign prospect for their race.
Now surrounded by four "Sentinels", the Elite Major made no move to charge him, and was standing still, looking 098 over. Content that the Elite wasn't going to try anything, 098 holstered his M6D onto his thigh but kept his hand near it in case. It took all of 098's willpower not to charge the Elite and kill it. 098 didn't hate the Elite for its atrocities to Humanity. 098 didn't have the emotional levels required to show hatred. But after the Elite and its race was his adversary for two decades, it was instinctual for 098 to kill them at the first chance he got or the first chance he was given by his superiors.
"Now, time for some irrelevant tests," The Major grumbled. "Nod if you can understand me, Demon."
(Test acknowledged.) 098 nodded, his head being hard to move as his tensed his muscles up to prevent him from acting out without thinking.
The Elite tilted his head. "As I first assumed. Well, this explains a lot. Now, come. I'll take you to my leader. He'll explain things further for you."
Nodding, 098 followed the Major and four Sentinels, keeping his hand close to his holstered M6D. But 098 knew if he had to engage them, he wouldn't stand a chance. That was among one of the reasons he ceased his aggression. If the situation didn't turn out to benefit him, he'd actively look for a chance to take whatever Covenant forces he was about to encounter out.
Another hour got added to the overall time it took 098 to reach the tower from the portal. Nothing eventful happened, and the Major didn't speak much other than sometimes to point at an animal and complain as to how terrible it tasted.
When the six of them – six with the Sentinels – arrived and entered the compound surrounding the anti-gravity well, the screams of terror from fifteen Grunts echoed through 098's interior helmet speakers.
"Shut up!" The Elite Major snapped.
Eleven of the fifteen Grunts obeyed while the other four hurried off towards the large doors leading into the anti-gravity well. The alien doors made an equally alien sound as they hissed open with Grunts flailing their arms in the air while running into the massive structure, screaming their heads off.
"Stupid little bastards," The Major grumbled, turning to make sure 098 was still following him.
The compound was unique; everything alien was unique, hence the "alien" name. However, which came first?
The pathway to the entrance of the anti-gravity well consisted of chiseled stone with thick engravings in patterned formations. The path was clear of any obstruction, and several separate paths leading to the open buildings and bunkers of the compound connected up to the main trail.
The perimeter wall was around the size 098 calculated. It wasn't massive, but it was enough to keep any undesirables out. There was a gateway into the compound that was open for them, but a hardlight shield zapped to life as soon as the six of them entered. The perimeter walls themselves had inbuilt stairways that allowed access to the top of the wall. But there was not a single Covenant patrolling the wall. Instead, each intersecting tower had an Elite guard armed with either a Type-51 Carbine or a Type-50 Sniper Rifle System respectively.
The compound itself was devoid of Covenant. And this was a Covenant base, according to the Major's words. It didn't look it; the only signs of Grunts were the ones huddled up in corners, trying their best to ignore 098's very existence. There were Jackals and Elites patrolling the compound, stopping when they neared 098 to give him a dirty look or hissing at him before continuing on their way.
"I don't think you're liked by many," The Major sarcastically observed as the Sentinels broke off to do their own patrols. 098 was curious about how the Sentinels and Covenant were able to work together cooperatively if the Sentinels had no means of communicating with the Covenant. A number of troubling theories came to 098's mind, making that mind even more conflicted. Every instinct in 098's mind was crying out for him to draw his DMR or M6D and start shooting at everything. But, his reason argued against it. In the end, 098 listened to reason and the instincts that sided with rationality.
098 stopped dead in his tracks, clenching his hands into a fist as an Elite Minor approached him and dropped to his knees. "Reclaimer, fate has sent me a purpose in life. My life is yours."
(Negative understanding. Elaboration required.)
"Brother, remember the truth? The Journey is false," The Major placed and hand on the Minor's shoulder.
"The Forerunners were not!" The Minor protested. "And though they may not be Gods, they gave us much that advanced our race. I... can't explain reasoning, just that I feel at liberty to repay the Forerunners for their gifts. And the only way, repayment is possible, is through service to their children."
"The Demon is not Human," The Major said.
"That is contrary to what the Oracle said when it picked up his signal earlier! He said he detected a Human!"
The Major waved his hand dismissively. "So be it. Do what you will. But do not halt our meeting with the Ultra any further."
The Minor nodded, getting back up and continuing his patrol. 098 was baffled by what had just happened, but knew better than to ask. He instead took an interest in what the Major called their leader. An Ultra being in charge of a detachment of Covenant soldiers not stationed at a larger base of even an invading point was abnormal. A Zealot or two always commanded scouting or exploration teams.
The Major let out a grunt, beckoning 098 onwards. "Pay no heed to Suras. He is in a bad state of mind," He said as they entered the anti-gravity well facility via its point of entry. There was just the one, long, straight corridor which led ahead to a door that was guarded by two Elite Minors. And there were no intersections or junctions; there was just the single passage.
Before they could continue, the screams of the four Grunts that had fled earlier filled the long, wide corridor. 098 was forced to deactivate his translator; the screams were that high-pitched.
With the translator deactivated, 098 couldn't understand the order the Major barked at the Grunts. It was apparent enough to 098 with the sight of the Grunts running back out into the compound, screaming in terror. Once they disappeared from view, 098 switched his translator back on; missing anything from the Major could've been the difference between life and death.
"Believe it or not, but all the Grunts, you have seen, are the best available of the Covenant," The Major shook his head in disbelief. "Whatever happened to the vicious little bastards from the rebellion?"
098 paid no attention to the Major's complaining and instead examined the architecture of the corridor. It was similar to the exterior architect but was more shiny due to its disconnection with the natural elements. There were other differences. The engravings were smaller and thinner, and had glowing blue tracings going through the center of their chiseled slopes, illuminating a light that possibly provided the corridor with light. It was of similar design of the interior of the structure on Quaint.
098 looked up and was further impressed by the tapering ceiling of the corridor. Above both of the doorways of the hallway and projecting two photon beams vertically across the ceiling was two photon beam projectors. There seemed to be a transparent, almost invisible field of energy surrounding the blue rays, keeping them stable. The decorative design was one of the most advanced energy utilized creations possible, and 098 believed it to be a lesser creation of the Forerunners.
"Just up here," The Major said as they approached the door, 098 turning his attention from the ceiling to the door. "Interesting, is it not?" The Major asked, noticing 098's focus change.
"Found a Demon?" One of the Elite Minors guarding the door asked as 098 and the Major halted.
The Major nodded. "The Oracle should've specified it better; I jumped higher than a T'vaoan when I saw it!"
As with the other doors, hissing was present as the doors opened, a ray of light shining through the widening gap of the separating doors, 098's visor adjusting immediately to the light. Civilian vehicles had nothing on military tinting.
"Go ahead," The second Elite Minor gestured for the two of them to continue, giving 098 a dirty look as he did so. Trusting at least one of his instincts, 098 lowered his hand back down to his holstered M6D, enabling him a quick reaction in case he stumbled onto a group of the Elite equivalent to rookie Marines.
"Greetings," A sudden metallic voice said from within the room they were entering. It sounded like voices used by primitive Human AIs. "I am the Monarch."
Confused, 098 remained quiet, opting just to follow the Elite Minor and let things play out. He quickly assessed whether it would play out in his favor, observing and determining his surroundings.
Atop an elevated platform connected to the central level by a hardlight ramp was a throne made up of sticks, logs and other items that could classify the throne as "makeshift". Sitting on the throne was an Elite Ultra with two Minors flanking him, both gripping a Type-51 carbine.
To the left of the hardlight ramp was... 098 didn't know what it was. It appeared to be a mainframe of sorts since there were multiple thick tubes and cords coming out from the "mainframe" and connecting up to terminals around the room which projected holographic screens or symbols. In the center of the "mainframe", was a moving, glowing eye that seemed to be watching 098. 098 wasn't quite sure it was a mainframe, but it was the closest comparison he could obtain.
To the right of everything in the room, covering the entire wall, was a massive glass window. It had to be one-way; it was too huge, and 098 would've noticed it while approaching the tower earlier.
"What're you saying to him?" The Ultra addressed what could only be the voice.
The metallic voice replied in the Sangheili language, but 098 translated it as, "Introducing myself."
The voice returned to addressing 098 in English. "Please to not feel threatened by the Sangheili, Reclaimer, for they mean you no harm. And if they did, I am sworn to protect you. But know this: I consider you the bigger threat."
(Acknowledged. I will refrain from expressing aggression.) 098 solely nodded.
"I suppose you're wondering what I am," The voice continued. "You already know my title, but my function remains oblivious to you. I am the most advanced Forerunner Ancilla – or, Artificial Intelligence – in this universe. My primary function is to assist the Reclaimers – Humanity – to the best of my possibilities. You are a Reclaimer, so I will service you, and will enact on your biddings to the best of my capabilities. I will start by translating your words into the Sangheili equivalent."
"You can understand us, correct?" The Ultra asked, 098 nodding in reply. "That explains many things."
"I know, right?!" The Major agreed.
"Why have you diverted to diplomatic tactics?" 098 asked the Ultra, the Monarch translating what he said almost immediately as his words left his mouth.
"Because your survival is of a mutual benefit," The Ultra began as the door behind hiss open, causing 098 to spin around instinctively. He calmed down when he saw it was just two Sentinels floating in, positioning themselves behind him. "But before I continue, I need you to swear that you will not react violently to what I speak. If you betray your word, you'll be incapacitated by the Sentinels."
"Which in turn, will make me laugh," The Major added.
(Unneeded concern. Tactical training in emotional field passed as of... Never passed.) "I'm a soldier, twenty/four seven. And to function like a soldier, you need to put emotions aside. I've exceeded at this fundamental law." 098 explained, the Monarch translating what he said for the Ultra and the other three Elites, its thick metallic voice sounding even more alien once it began speaking in an unknown language.
"Then, I shall waste no more time, and begin," The Ultra stood up from his throne, folding his hands behind his back. "The Covenant – the false Covenant – worship a deity race called the Forerunners. I also did, at a time. The principal premise of our religion is that the Forerunners activated the Halo Arrays-" The Ultra gestured around. "-And ascended to the Divine Beyond; a paradise. What follows is an assortment of lies and deceit... or perhaps a misconception..."
The Ultra took a breath. 098 wasn't adept in Covenant research – that belonged to the scientists of ONI – but he could tell the Ultra was experiencing mixed emotions. "Needless theories," The Ultra waved dismissively. "Another prime premise is that to follow in the Forerunners' steps and ascend to Paradise to live by their side for the rest of eternity, you need to follow the Covenant loyally, and for the Halo Arrays to be activated once again. We also believed that those, who follow the Covenant, are the Reclaimers to the Forerunners' entire empire... It was no coincident that the Covenant declared war on the actual Reclaimers, Humanity."
"The San'Shyuum – along with the rest of the Covenant – are not the Reclaimers; you Humans are. The Hierarchs, they without a doubt knew this. And they knew that if it became public that Humanity are the Reclaimers, then who would the entire Covenant bow to? Who would the Sangheili follow? The race that subjugated them into a false religion? Or the actual sons' of our Gods?" The Ultra began pacing. 098 saw his chest moving at a rapid pace; it was breathing faster than normal. "They resorted to lying; maintaining control over the Covenant was that important to them that enacting on genocide was a viable option. The war against your race wasn't meant to be."
(The Human-Covenant war is irrelevant and unneeded. Casualty numbers dictate negative reaction. Training dictates no response. The latter is the only choice; it always is.) 098 wasn't shock. He had been trained to kill whoever he was told to kill. Such concerns as the fate of his race wasn't swirling his mind.
"By logical sense," The Ultra continued, halting his pace and slumping back into his seat. "We should be at your service. But the Forerunners aren't Gods, according to the Monarch. They didn't build Halo to ascend to Paradise, but to wipe out every living being in the galaxy; a final plan to counter a race of parasites; the Flood. They threatened everything, and no plan other than complete annihilation would defeat them. The universe was apparently re-established through the imprinting of each and every conscious race... all except the Forerunners. They foolishly decided to leave another in their stead. Another to guard the universe... Out of all the choices, it was your race."
The Major chuckled in disbelief as the Ultra continued. "Why? Matters not," The Ultra shook his head. "Just that it is so, as the Monarch says..." The Ultra sighed – or did the Sangheili equivalent to a sigh, but it came through as a sigh – as he continued. "The Great Journey is false. All those who walked the 'blessed' path in hopes of salvation – even in death – will have their beliefs crushed – like us. Every Covenant warrior, who have fallen in this holy war, will not be rewarded for their sacrifice; will not see their family again. They will remain in the eternal darkness for all time, without a conscious. They will remain nothing but the essence of the galaxy. They died for nothing."
The Minors to the Ultra's sides hung their heads in shame and sadness. "This revelation came to me courtesy of the Monarch," The Ultra gestured to the "mainframe". "I was a part of a team in service to the Ministry of Reliquary Dominion. We specialized in securing structures and artifacts of Forerunner design when the Zealots of the Ministry of Fervent Intercession could not do so. One such structure I was tasked to secure forty-seven rotations ago on one of your damn planes held the Monarch within its bowels. There, the Monarch told me and my warriors the truth."
"Understandably, the truth was a shocking revelation to me and my warriors. We knew we had to warn our Fleetmaster, Vale Nar 'Sarasee. But when returning from a mission such as the one we were one, protocol and law demanded that we be taken straight to another without exception; the Minister of Reliquary Dominion, the Prophet of Pity. If we came back with the Monarch, we would be all dead to prevent the truth from becoming exposed. We couldn't return with the Monarch anyway," The Ultra pointed to the "mainframe". "As you can see, the Monarch is connected to some type of mainframe it calls, 'the Parisadal'. This meant we couldn't move him."
The Monarch broke in, speaking Sangheili so the others could understand what he was telling me. "I did, withal, inform them of a distinct breed of Sentinels that could remove me from the Parisadal and allow me to utilize the mobile function of my form. Unfortunately, these Sentinels weren't located within my Installation. The reasons are irrelevant at the moment, and is a story within itself. But due to my primary function to assist the Reclaimers, I was connected up to a universal teleportation network to each and every Halo Installation – one of the most technologically advanced creations of the Forerunners. This fabric allowed me to teleport my Parisadal and every sentient being within a ten meter radius to the Parisadal to a designated network facility located on each Halo Installation. And to add a bonus to our already risky plan – that was gradually getting better – one Halo Installation had a Forerunner Dreadnought part of its vehicle assembly."
"The plan was to ultimately teleport to Installation 02, get the assistance from the local Monitor of the Installation, commandeer the Dreadnought and use it to return to Covenant controlled space to assist in ending the conflicts between the Reclaimer, and this Covenant Empire."
"The Ultra could've explained," The Major grumbled.
"Rek," The Ultra quietly scolded the Major before returning his attention back to me, but addressing the Monarch. "We didn't go to Installation 02, did we?"
"No," The Monarch replied in Sangheili. Since it was speaking Sangheili, its words were automatically translated by 098's rendering systems. The Sangheili language was the lingua franca of the Covenant Empire, and a lot of different races that didn't have their language translated at the time spoke Sangheili.
The Monarch continued. "Due to an interference that I have yet to identify, I had to make an emergency diversion of course, changing the destination of my direction vectors to that of the closest Halo Installation. It was either that or be teleported into nothing. I managed to deviate successfully and teleport us all to the designated 'Throne Room' of this Installation that I have yet to identify due to my inability to gain contact with the Monitor for some reason. The lack of contact at this time is unusual. Due to my limited supply of Sentinels, my scouting of this Installation has so far proved to be ineffective. I have only revealed half of the continent we are on during the forty-seven days we have been present here, and my Sentinels cannot access the service and maintenance tunnels to improve their rate of exploration. Exploration should be irrelevant; contact from the Monitor should have been established by now. Odder is the lack of the 'Squires' that should be at this facility."
"You have remarkable skills in self-control," The Ultra observed. "I would have thought it otherwise."
098 cocked his head, curious at the Ultra's observation. "Emotions are a foreign concept to me. But the rest of Humanity will react more negatively to your information and intelligence. Caution is advised."
"Oh, I know they will be," The Ultra said. "But they have inflicted atrocities on us as well. Hatred is not a one-way situation."
"We were on the defensive," 098 reminded the Ultra.
"You were," The Ultra nodded once. "But it makes no difference, Demon. But, conclusively, we have inflicted the worse out of what we have done to each other, and the San'Shyuum will burn for it; each and every one of the bastards.
"Brother," One of the Minors interjected. "Not all San'Shyuum may know the truth if any at all This could be a misunderstanding by us."
The Ultra turned to face the Minor at his side, not showing any aggression towards the Minor for his breakage of silence. Covenant discipline could teach SPARTANs a few things. "Remember the Dvene-Ta'is people, brother?" The Ultra asked the Minor, his tone calm, lacking the aggression that should've acted as discipline in the current situation. "They were divided into different political cities – similar to us. And it was only one of those cities that desecrated the Forerunner artifact while the others wanted none other than to keep their distance from anything associated with the Forerunners. The San'Shyuum ordered the glassing of the entire planet, though, Brother. There was no mercy. The San'Shyuum have reduced us to a state where we can't distinguish the innocent from the guilty."
"The Prophets' lies have done much damage to the galaxy," The Elite Major, Rek, added. "It is our duty to redeem ourselves through being the arm of vengeance."
The Ultra nodded in agreement, turning his attention back to me. "Yes. Demon, we've been blinded. But now we can see all. The San'Shyuum will all die; no matter who knew, no matter who did what, they will all die. But, we need your help."
(Assistance request acknowledged and assistance will be granted.) "I'll assist you until I receive orders from my superiors not to. Until contact with UNSC forces is re-established, there is no designated end of assistance."
"So be it," The Ultra nodded once the Monarch finished translating. "Monarch, you may begin your explanation of your plan."
098 turned to face the Monarch's "Parisadal", noticing the eye fixated on him. 098 was cautious, but not intimidated. He saw how intimidation crippled an opponent; the amount of Grunts he had interrogated required a moment of thinking to calculate the numbers. It was one-hundred and six, the last time he checked – which was more than a year ago.
"My knowledge of this Installation's landscape is limited," The Monarch began his explanation. "But I do have short-range sensors that are currently operational. It was with this sensor that I picked up your combat skin's systems along with the activation of a portal, which I assume you came through?"
(Affirmative. "Came" incorrect term. "Fall" correct term. Marine slang equals, "fell on ass"; term operable.)"Affirmative," 098 confirmed with a nod, deciding against correcting the Monarch.
"Excellent. What planet is one the other side of the portal? This is essential, Reclaimer, so I need to know."
(Quaint, Viverz System, the capital planet of the system. Population: one hundred and ninety-five million six hundred and thirty-two – before the invasion. Estimated survival population: time required for calculation essential for other purposes.) "Quaint," 098 replied.
"Unknown planet," The Monarch mused. "But I'll soon know as one of my Sentinels is approaching the portal now. A visual will soon be established."
"We shall use this portal to return to Covenant space," The Ultra elaborated to 098.
(Acknowledged. Technically still UNSC space, but the argument is irrelevant.)
"That may be a bigger problem than I anticipated," The Monarch interjected.
"Why?" the Ultra asked, the sound of his mandibles clicking in worry was hearable from where he sat on his throne.
"Because there is a Covenant scouting team exiting the portal on this side," The Monarch explained.
"Demon," The Ultra cocked his head back around to face 098. "Did you encounter any number of scouting teams on the other side? And was there a Zealot present?"
(Affirmative. Three; one with confirmed Zealot. Additional Zealot engaged and eliminated. Monarch should have visual on a second Zealot.)"Affirmative," 098 confirmed with a nod. "Three teams; one with a confirmed Zealot. An additional Zealot was engaged and eliminated."
"I see the aforementioned Zealot. Dangers of my creator's creations," The Monarch remarked, seemingly amused.
"It could just be one of those," The Ultra suggested.
"No. My Sentinel just went through the portal, and there are a lot of Covenant warriors present on the other side. They seem to be erecting a base of operations," The Monarch informed.
"Damn it!" The Ultra snapped, his translated voice showing signs of annoyance and anger.
"Oh, the Covenant are now kneeling before the Sentinel and praying to it," The Monarch said, surprised and amused all at once.
"I pity their blindness," Rek said, sympathetic. 098 could hear Rek clatter his mandibles in what the SPARTAN guessed was sadness.
"Soon. They will see the light soon, brother," The Ultra reassured Rek. "And when they do, their wrath will be infinite and unbounded."
"There's a San'Shyuum with them," The Monarch informed.
The Elite Minors let out roars of anger as the Ultra leaped out of his throne and hurried down the ramp, approaching the Monarch's Parisadal. "Is he near a large Sangheili in gold armor?"
"Yes. There is an exceptionally large Sangheili compared to the others. It has an aura of authority around it; that much is certain," The Monarch confirmed.
"Fleetmaster Vale Nar 'Sarasee," The Ultra said, musing. "It's the bastard Prophet of Pity."
The Elite Minors and Rek let out roars of anger at the mention of the Prophet's name. 098 judged that there was a personal hatred towards the Prophet; it was the Minister of the Ministry they served under, so perhaps there was a bitter resentment.
"The Prophet of Pity is beginning a prayer," The Monarch informed.
"What is he saying?" The Ultra asked, a slight urgency in his voice.
"Holy Sentinel, warrior of the Gods – the holy Forerunners," The Monarch began. "We – your loyal servants – thank you for gracing us with your presence – one that little of us are worthy of. We also thank the holy Forerunners – our divine Gods – for this gateway to the sacred ring! Soon, the Great Journey will begin. And when it does, all those who walk the blessed path will find salvation – even in death-"
"Stop!" The Ultra put a hand up to stop the Monarch, turning to face 098. "See? Their words are blinding! All reasonable and logical sense abandons you when you listen to their lies!"
"Irrelevant," 098 replied, the Monarch beginning his translation. "The Covenant have taken control of the structure on the other side of the portal. Leaving this ring – designated: Halo – requires an immediate plan of action."
The Ultra nodded in agreement. "Maybe we won't have to return to High Charity to begin the cleansing of the San'Shyuum... If I could secretly meet with the Fleetmaster without Pity's knowing, the Fleetmaster will listen – he sees from the sky, after all. I have a plan," The Ultra approached 098, not getting too close, which was a smart move in 098's exceptionally large book of things that pissed him off. "Demon, will you be alright here while I am absent to commune with the Fleetmaster?"
(Affirmative. Engagement physical or verbal wise will be minimal to lack thereof.) "Affirmative," 098 nodded, the Monarch wasn't translating due to his single nod of confirmation.
"My Sentinels will be close by if trouble ensues," The Monarch added.
"Thank you, again, Monarch," The Ultra nodded at the Monarch's Parisadal, turning back around to face Rek. "Major, you'll be in charge while I'm absent. No brother is to go near the Demon. And the Demon himself is to remain in the compound to allow a quick escape when the Fleetmaster comes back with me; he will not come alone, and his guards may act with a serious lack of consideration as to why a Demon is here in the first place."
"Understood, brother," Rek replied, doing the Sangheili salute which consisted of placing his hand on his chest and bowing.
The Ultra nodded, cocking his head to face 098. "Demon, if you wish to leave Halo alive, I recommend you listen to the Monarch and do not do anything foolish or otherwise unintelligible."
098 nodded.
"Good," The Ultra nodded, passing 098. 098 quickly – but calmly – turned around in an effort to counter the Ultra if it intended to attack his back. He only saw the Ultra go up to a nearby slab against the right bordering wall of the entrance to the room, the slab being used as a weapons bench with an assortment of Covenant weapons on it. The Ultra picked up a Type-25 directed energy rifle and holstered it on his right thigh, taking a Type-51 carbine and slinging it over his back before turning back around to face everyone.
"Brothers, vengeance is nigh. Urse, Anve, you're with me. The rest of you are to keep the peace," The Ultra crossed his arms in conclusion before turning around and leaving the room. The doors hissed open, and the two Sentinels, Minors, Rek and 098 followed him out of the room.
098 tried his best to process what he had just heard, and a lot of it would make Humanity hate the Elites. But it didn't matter at the moment; 098 was eagerly awaiting leaving Halo. But, 098's mind was full of disturbing thoughts that the whole conceivable idea that the war, he bled so much in, was all for naught.
Something, which disturbed him, was the fact that not four hours ago, he was killing Covenant like it was what he was born to do. Now, he had to restrain his instincts or risk killing every one of the Covenant soldiers near him.
The most disturbing thought was what he witnessed with the Elites. He saw the sadness they had for their dead comrades, the sadness for the fact that they murdered billions over their fake religion. The anger they had for the San'Shyuum, the compassion they had for each other, and the resentment they harbored for 098.
These were Human emotions, and it made 098 very uncomfortable to see those many considered monsters act with emotions that made them so Human.
(They're more Human than I am. But that's not saying much.)
