In a pitch-black room...
A door opens...
The Arbiter strides in, pushing what looks like a gurney, upon-which a gagged figure in a straightjacket is apparently strapped.
He looks up, "good day, my associates of the Halo universe and I would like to offer our most sincere apologies over the tardiness of this chapter. It has, for hitherto unexplained reasons, driven nevar88 completely insane. Fear not though, for by the time you have finished reading it I will have ensured his return to sanity. Thank you for your time, try the Mildworms."
He bows, and departs, pushing his gibbering ward along with him.
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Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to the Halo universe.
Banquet
"By the Rings if I have to listen to the grievances of another Councilor I swear I'm going to…"
"I'd try not to slander their names too readily Rtas. The Councilor's are not known for their patience."
Rtas 'Vadumee, also known to his brethren as Commander Half-Jaw, halted and glowered at his companion. "Arbiter, you have no idea of the trials I have faced over the course of the last seven rotations. The amount of times I've listened to them complain… raagh!" He snarled and clenched his fist. "Like whelps squabbling over a ripe Yanta!"
"Whelps indeed?" The Arbiter mused. "Are you aware, perhaps, of the term 'sending-the-Arbiter-in-to-train-the-new-recruits-because-we-can't-be-bothered?' It has become a major aspect of my life of late."
"Oh really?" Rtas snorted. "So broadening the minds of a group of impressionable youths is difficult, hmm?"
"It is if Eva comes in with their rations and tells them that touching the Arbiter's armor is good luck." The Arbiter groaned. "One can only take so many little sticky marks."
"Try replacing 'sticky marks' with snide comments. Then add the High Councilor and stir briskly…" Rtas shuddered. "Apparently the Rukan's so-called 'United Earth Federation Prime Minister,' has refused point-blank to leave his planet. The Councilors were on the verge of declaring war again over the idea of humans shunning our hospitality."
"Ah yes, well try…" Both warriors suddenly leapt aside as Grea 'Morgamouss trundled past, pushing along a colossal hovering trolley.
"Uh… well met Mistress!" The Arbiter called after her.
Grea grunted non-committedly.
The two Sangheili watched her receding back. Lesser Elites, with not nearly as good reflexes, had been near crushed by the unstoppable death machine that was Grea and her trolley.
Brutes used to dive out of the way as she passed, even Hunters gave her a wide berth.
Rtas frowned. "She seemed buoyed by bit more purpose today then usual, she doesn't normally miss out on the chance to sneer at least a small remark at me."
"There is no particular feast or such today is there?" The Arbiter quirked a brow ridge.
"Not that I…" Rtas gave a start, "oh by the Forerunners I'd clear forgot, apologies Arbiter but I must retreat. My diligence is required elsewhere, farewell." He turned and clattered away in the same direction Grea went.
"What…?" The Arbiter cocked his head on one side. "Did I just miss something?"
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"It takes balance, accuracy and agility to become proficient, and a certain amount of brutality is required, so expect no leniency from me." Zealot Taso 'Ratanalee began circling the sparse room he currently occupied, holding his makeshift sword at ease. It had the basic handle of a Covenant energy sword, and two thick wires curving out of either side to make a makeshift blade.
His opponent, John 117, watched him warily.
Both were clad casually, John in a singlet and loose pants and Taso in a tunic and a long loincloth.
John smiled faintly, "ready whenever you are."
"Of course." Taso whirled around, viscously lunging as he blurred past, John struck the 'blade' aside with his own similar training weapon.
Taso twisted easily in mid-slash, delivering a stab to John's gut, which the Spartan struck aside.
Taso loosed a barrage of punishing sweeps, which John blocked as best he could, but received a blow to the chest for his troubles.
John backed away hastily as Taso started weaving back and forth. "Atrocious Demon, even a Sangheili Minor can duel better then you. How can you expect to wield our weapons if you can't even block a toy?"
John growled and lunged, aiming to raise a weal across Taso's chest, only for the young Zealot to glide back with two quick steps, evading the blow. With an easy step forward he aimed with decapitation in mind, only for John to whip up his arm with inhuman agility and catch the blow in mid-swing with barely a flinch of effort.
Taso grunted with surprise, "it would appear I underestimated your augmentations."
John pushed aside the sword as Taso backed away.
The Sangheili's mandibles twitched in amusement. "You Spartans always were more then you appeared."
Without warning he lunged, John stumbled back, the blade just grazing his cheek, and lashed out at Taso's blindside.
The Elite gave a snarl and staggered back, clutching his face. "Ah… it's that thrice accursed eye again…!" Said eye managed to get dislodged by the blow, and rolled past John's leg to the door.
It stopped when a boot blocked its way.
Both warriors looked up past the leg and up the torso before settling on the displeased expression of Miranda Keyes.
"Are you two through messing about?"
"My fair Miranda." Taso bowed. "We are hardly messing nor about."
"That so?" Miranda picked up Taso's eye and buffed it on her sleeve before handing it over.
Taso reached out, but couldn't disguise the slight grimace of distaste that twisted his mandibles, clearly Miranda had breached some kind of etiquette. Taso spat on the tiny orb before inserting it back in his socket. "What do you wish of us, lady?"
"I need you two to come and help me move some tables in the cafeteria."
"Ah this would be for the, ah, to do this evening?"
"Yeah the… the banquet… thing…" Miranda sighed.
Miranda started away down the hall as Taso and the Chief followed after. "It is of some interest to me," Taso cracked a weak smile, "that it seems for every important event it is your ship that harbors us all. Some discomfort, perhaps?"
Miranda stiffened slightly but kept walking. "Earth isn't quite ready for that step yet."
"So I gather in fact, that despite the constant ferrying of our Councilors back and forth, the only human delegate to set foot on Sangheili thus far, has been you."
"Well…" Miranda shrugged. "Lord Hood doesn't even really like setting foot on Earth, he says it doesn't feel like home compared to the Cairo."
"And your… Prime Minister?"
"Ah… that…"
"Fear not," Taso clapped a massive claw on her shoulder as they neared the cafeteria and accelerated past. "I understand, what human would willingly trust the alien monsters?" With a wry smirk he left the fuming Commander by the door.
John sidled in past her, glancing around at the work already being undertaken.
He looked on, bemused, as two Grunts waddled past, seemingly unburdened by the table they hoisted over their heads, a move that wasn't matched by the large amount of marines attempting to assemble the furniture.
"We're trying to ensure there's a maximum amount of seating in a minimum amount of space." Miranda ushered him forwards. "Hurry up about it and you'll be finished in no time."
"Right."
He glanced at Taso, who was showing off in the manner of a self-conscious person attempting not to draw attention to themselves while lifting a table single-handed with no apparent effort.
John's gaze filtered through the room
It had, so far managed to reach a semblance of order, lined up in rows with three tables at one end of the room to serve as a master table for the resident Commanders and Councilors.
John shot Taso a look, a slight smirk quirking the corners of his mouth. "Reckon… we could get things sorted quicker then this rabble?"
"With my arm tied to my foot and half my face in a bowl of Mildworms." Taso smirked. "Means yes."
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"Hmmmm." The Arbiter of the Covenant paused in the hallway of the 'Veiled Shade,' currently in orbit around Earth.
He pressed the side of his face against a nearby doorway.
He winced as a barrage of vibrations assailed him. Something crashed against the nearby wall and sent the Arbiter's teeth rattling. "What on Sangheil…?"
The door hissed open and Nami the Unggoy ambled past, muttering under her breath and not even glancing at the Elite.
With a raised brow-ridge, the Arbiter straightened and carefully peered into the room beyond.
He had to duck back briefly as something glass and possibly expensive shattered near his nose. "What the Flood's going on in here?"
"Oh great, as if we didn't have enough trouble." The Arbiter winced at the venomous sneer.
Through the doorway was a warzone.
A kitchen in turmoil, as terrified young Sangheili and Unggoy scurried around bubbling vats, smoking ovens and trays loaded down with strange crunchy things.
And hunched in the center like a deranged, predatory animal was Eva 'Embrax.
Clenched in one of her spidery fists was a long fork-like abject, though she was brandishing it like a saber. "Back to work." She hissed as several of the Sangheili turned to glance at the newcomer.
They hurriedly turned back.
Eva shot the Arbiter a glare, then strode off to one side of the room, rearing up behind a terrified Sangheili girl, clearly not up to the daily stresses of home cooking.
"We have minimal time and after Faela 'Teineyr collapsed from exhaustion we are sorely understaffed." Eva used the fork to turn over some kind of creature resembling a bloated cockroach. "The feast is tonight, have you no idea how to hurry!?! Who taught you how to cook?"
"The same person as you Mistress." Muttered one.
"That's it…!"
The Arbiter made to intervene, when a flicker of movement caught his attention.
"What on Sanghei…? Esi?"
Barely a few meters away a slim Sangheili with a grey plume was struggling with a massive pot filled with some kind of sludgy black mixture.
Her eyes lit up in surprise, then delight.
"I don't believe it." She stumbled over, beaming. "Well, if it isn't the Arbiter, I had no idea. What are you doing here?"
"Just… wandering what's going on…"
"Oh that," Esi shrugged, resting the bottom of the pot against her hip. "There is a… feast or something this evening."
"And I wasn't told, why…?"
"Everyone's been busy Arbiter, I imagine they intended to alert you soon. As I understand it it's due to be pretty big, as many human and Covenant as are available should be there."
"Ah," the Arbiter looked her up and down. Esi had filled our a lot seen he'd last seen her, her ribs didn't stick out from her flanks anymore and her scales were less dull and no longer looked like they'd scatter in high winds. "So what are you doing here?"
Esi smiled again, "feeling indebted to you Arbiter. Your visit was… encouraging to say the least, I mean, who else can say the Arbiter came to apologize to them? With chocolates." She gave a high-pitched, self-conscious giggle. "We truly are living in amazing new times, so I thought to myself, that there was no reason to remain smoldering in my cesspit of a life, so I sought out some help. Uh… Eva 'Embrax was a former roommate of mine during tutorage in my youth, and she said she knew you… in fact she seemed more then keen to take me on when I told her what you'd told me."
"Well," the Arbiter snorted, watching Eva browbeat a couple of terrified Unggoy, "Eva seems awfully busy. What's the occasion? Did she leave everything to the last minute?"
"No, you see Arbiter," Esi cackled, "her greatness, Grea 'Morgamouss, chef supreme, saw fit to allow her young ward Eva to prepare the appetizers and other such dishes, and Eva of course, took to this with the prideful will of all we Sangheili, and has taken it upon herself to outdo her mistress."
"Oh?" The Arbiter's mandibles twitched, "do you think she stands a chance?"
"Truthfully? Not a Jackal's chance in the Flood pits," Esi looked up and met the Arbiter's eye. She glanced away shyly, skin tinting a bashful purple. "I feel I should treat you to dinner sometime."
"Perhaps…" The Arbiter eyed the strange dark-grey mass in the pot she was carrying.
"Oh, this?" Esi laughed. "Grunt fodder, I was just preparing the first half in here then I have to add the final ingredients… um… far away. Or else the smell tends to drown out the room and taint all the food."
"You know, in all of my campaigns, regardless of the threat of starvation, I have never brought myself to taste the… Unggoy rations."
"And you should not if you wish your tastebuds to remain intact." Murmured Esi darkly.
"Another means to keep your tastebuds," the Arbiter gave a start of shock as a claw reached up under his mandibles and caught the end of his tongue, dragging it partway out of his mouth, "is to exit this place immediately."
"Tha'th motht dithrethpectful!" The Arbiter spat, eye swiveling around to see Eva grasping his tongue, her face like the wrath of the Forerunners.
"Care to challenge me?"
"Not for all the canapéth in the univerthe." Esi looked down, then glanced away, embarrassed at the pool of saliva beginning to form around the Arbiter's hooves.
"Good." Eva breathed, "Esi, back to work, Arbiter, with respect, get out of my kitchen."
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Compared to the madness of Eva's kitchen, the room housed by Grea was a relative sea of calm.
All Sangheili and Unggoy knew where they stood with Grea, often on the receiving end of a severe drubbing.
All kitchen-staff were, therefore, more then free to talk, laugh and generally do anything Eva would throttle them for. Provided they worked.
Rapping against one stocky thigh was the end of a thick cylinder of wood, the other end clutched in her powerful fingers. Often it was the last thing for new recruits to the Sangheili barracks, intent on raiding her kitchen, to see before waking up next to a stack of unwashed cutlery and the thunderous expression of the hulking matron.
Several knives hung around the walls, mounted for display, stained with Jiralhanae blood, an exhibition of Grea's part in the civil war.
Due to her intense regime and careful forethought, Grea was almost finished with her part of the feast, and thus many of her staff were already over at Eva's. The place, though, had managed to fill up, and an impromptu meeting was being held.
"Right, run through this with me again," a lesser Elite Councilor was leaning against a kitchen counter, looking bemused, "we are… sitting with Unggoy?"
"It's not complicated." Zealot, Taso 'Ratanalee sighed and let out an exasperated snort, "this whole thing is a celebration of equality…"
"Yes but… with Unggoy?"
"The Unggoy Councilors, yes."
"I thought they were just for show."
"And it is a very good show to be seen with them."
"But…" The Councilor snorted, "do I have to talk to them?"
"Yes." Taso glowered, "you have been off the battlefield for far too long."
"Moving on…" One of the other Councilor's sighed.
"Right, Johnson has voiced his regrets over the human's lack of…" Taso began.
"Hey, I haven't voiced anything squid-face, I'm not a pansy." Standing offside with his arms crossed, Johnson scowled passed the fug of cigar smoke swirling around his head. "All I said is we don't have enough food to fling around you lot."
"Yes, the human rations seem to be limited by…"
Johnson blew out a swirl of smog. "All them aliens dropping bombs on our planet messed up our stocks. Still, your grub's not too bad for a handful of bugs."
"Thank you."
"This will hardly be a problem." Said one of the Councilors pointedly. "Bring enough for your people, I'm sure none of ours could stand your meager foodstuffs anyway. We will be more then glad to share our bounty."
"Just bring some of those squishy green things and I won't have to hurt anyone."
"Agreed."
"And the oozing purple things, they're good to."
"That is our culinary discussion I believe," Taso smiled, "what officials intend to attend? Any of the lay community, I mean?"
"Nah, all them kids are off arguing with your bosses." Interjected Johnson. "But Hood, me, Miranda and some other important guy's will be there."
"Do we disperse ourselves among the lesser troops to show willing then?" Offered Taso.
"Are you mad 'Ratanalee? Or has your eye rolled back into your brain?" One of the Councilors gaped. "I supped with a group of Major's once, and merely removed my headdress for a small time to ah… observe natures call. I later found, during a meeting with the Hierarch's no less, that they'd inscribed a… phrase… on my crown. And they were Major's. This is not an experience I wish to repeat."
"What kind of phrase?" Johnson asked, an interested smirk creeping over his face.
"Uh…" The Elite blanched. "It roughly translated to… I… ah… 'I hunger for Jiralhane fecal matter.'" He glowered. "STOP LAUGHING AT ME!"
"Sorry squid-face," Johnson chuckled. "It's just I've never felt closer to you bastards then right now." He rapped the Councilor on the shoulder with his knuckle. "You're alright ya know."
"Do that again," the Councilor hissed through his teeth, "and I will bite off your hand."
"Right, so Command table it is." Taso scratched his nose with one claw, "with the option for possible embarrassment. Who among our laymen intend to join in the festivities?"
"I shall be there." Quavered a cracked voice from about chest height. All heads turned to focus on a hunched figure in hovering chair.
Though not as elaborate as a Prophet's throne, it served a similar purpose, mainly to house the shriveled figure of an elderly Elite.
Dry scales crackled as he twisted his head around slowly, misty eyes surveying the group and he wrapped the blanket that shrouded his shoulders closer around himself. "I wouldn't miss it for anything, I like a good feast as much as the next Sangheili." Though frail, his voice still held bass overtones.
Taso beamed, "of course." He glanced at the others, "Ah, Johnson and company I would like to introduce you to Tenqa 'Daisommee, one of our oldest and most accomplished former Zealots."
Tenqa's cracked mandibles twitched, "and with age comes the knowledge that a free meal is never to be scoffed at. Also," he added with a wink, "a certain large, shapely source has informed me we will play host to representatives from the, ah, Coven."
"Oh dear…" Taso buried his face in one hand. "Then I will be sure to inform the troops to be on their best behavior. That includes you Johnson."
"Who are the…?" One of the Sergeants accompanying Johnson started, but a Councilor waved him into silence.
"Not a matter for you to worry about. Tenqa, we look forward to your visitation. This unofficial meeting is, I believe, adjourned."
With general murmured of assent, the group split up and left.
When the door had hissed shut behind them, Tenqa swung his throne around to face the massive spine of Grea 'Morgamouss, and put on his most innocent expression. "Any chance of a sample before the banquet?"
Grea chuckled throatily. "I intend to allow those that turn up the honor of enjoying the vast expenditure of effort my finest chefs and I were able to muster." She smirked over her burly shoulder. "That is to say, 'get stuffed.'"
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"Fascinating Sister, it would seem things are about to proceed."
"Great, I want to get a seat before the frenzy begins."
"The bottomless gullets are soon to be satiated."
The cafeteria door hissed open, allowing two veiled figures to enter.
Long black robes rustled as they crept into the dimly lit room, one was verging on nine-foot-tall while the other was about a couple of feet shorter.
"They haven't set the food out yet." Noted the shorter figure, a tone of despondency in her voice, "how sad."
"Mmm." The taller huffed. "Over there." She pointed to a bench up against a corner of the room. "I will be seated, join me when you may."
She stalked away, then halted as the top of her veil brushed against something. "What on Sangheil…?" She pulled a large orb down from the roof and regarded it coldly. "Rubber and air, what wretched contraption is this?" She popped the balloon with a claw then burst several more nearby before striding away to her seat.
"Always a pleasure Elsa." The other called, smirking behind her veil, "I'll remember to notify the authorities of your arrival. And the army."
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"I never liked the idea of having a noose around my neck."
"Oh be quiet, it looks good on you."
"Like a snake tryin to disembowel your chin."
"Shut up Johnson."
"It's choking me."
"Shut up Chief."
"I feel awkward."
"Shut up Arbiter… with respect."
"Thank you."
"I've always enjoyed a good meal, it keeps the Grunts quiet."
"Quite."
"And slightly stinky."
"Once again, quite."
The doors of the cafeteria hissed open as five figures strode in.
Miranda and Johnson, both in naval whites, marched alongside the Master Chief, squeezed into a green dress shirt and pants and someone either extremely brave or extremely foolish had managed to slip a tie around his neck. Nearby the Arbiter, resplendent in gleaming armor marched alongside Rtas 'Vadumee in his white dress-armor.
Already the place was crowded, but if the theme was camaraderie then the planner had failed miserably.
Sangheili sat apart from Unggoy, seated far away from humans and the Lekgolo weren't even in the room.
"Well, this has gone belly-up pretty quickly." Miranda sighed. "I'll go and see the Sangheili Councilor's, at least they'll talk to me."
"I'm gonna go see if Sergeant Belle's doing that 'fork trick' of hers," Johnson snickered, sauntering away into a crowd of marines.
"Fascinating." The Arbiter scowled. "You exiting Half-Jaw?"
"I intend to encourage a bit of mingling with the Unggoy. The Grunt Councilors will thank me."
"I could do with seat away from the bustle, I like being a passive observer." The Arbiter smirked as Rtas stalked off. "You, Demon?"
"Good idea."
Both heroes lumbered towards a darker corner of the room.
"Not much of a banquet," quipped John, glancing down at the meager portions dotting the tables.
"Ah Demon, this is but the first appetizer," the Arbiter plucked a gleaming black wriggly thing out of a bowl and chucked it between his mandibles. "You can trust Grea is, aha, setting up…" He motioned to a large screen covering a small part of the room. Quiet, yet busy sounds were emanating out from it.
"She will be very keen on impressing all of you," the Arbiter smirked. "This will be as much a feast for the eyes as for the stomachs."
"Arbiter?"
"Yes?"
"Do you ever worry that you might be a dork?"
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"Eva… oh Eva!" Nami the Unggoy roughly shoved the slumbering Sangheili.
Eva was sprawled back in a chair, her hands clasped over her stomach and her head flung back with mandibles gaping.
She was making a noise that closely resembled either a) a person snoring heavily or b) a dying walrus screaming into a bullhorn.
She jerked awake with a start as she was jabbed at by Nami's claws. "Wha…?" She croaked.
"You late Mistress!" Said Nami urgently.
"Wha…?" Eva repeated, just in case Nami had missed it the first time.
"The banquet Mistress," Nami held up a long, flowing piece of red fabric. "You have to get dressed quick or you not make it."
"Ah." Eva agreed, staggering upright.
"You definitely not want to miss what Grea cooked up." Prattled Nami as Eva peeled off her apron. "You still have long way to go."
"Ah, but what could I suspect?" Eva struggled out of her robe, "perhaps next time."
"You still get beat." Nami passed Eva the gown, smirking behind her methane filter. "At least your food get served first."
"Then it shall be easily forgotten." Eva sighed, smoothing out the front of the dress and rearranging her bangles. "Well, all the best to her. At the very least someone'll like my canapés." She reached behind her back and pulled up a thin strip of material hanging near the top of her spine, pulling it up along the back of her neck and on the top of her head up to her nose. As she moved her head the rings attached along its edges jingled faintly. "Shall we move out?"
"Right."
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When Eva and Nami blundered into the cafeteria, the starters she'd so painstakingly put together were already being taken apart by the ravenous crowd.
"Success." She chirped happily, before marching off into said crowd.
Elsewhere, the Arbiter leant forward and examined a portion of the human's own fare.
"So this…?" He twisted the rectangular object around in his fingers thoughtfully, "this is… prepared by your chefs and packaged?" He frowned.
"No," John sighed, "prepared, packaged and thoroughly extracted of all flavor by a soulless company of robots." He took the item from the Arbiter, ripped open the package, broke off the end and handed it to him.
"Looks brown." Commented the Arbiter. He bit off a corner. "Tastes brown."
"Same color on exit." John concealed a belch.
The Arbiter screwed up his mandibles in distaste. "You disgust me sometimes."
"Everyone!" The deep, resonant tones of Grea 'Morgamouss echoed around the room. "May I request your attention."
Elsewhere, Eva buried her face in her hands, "oh Forerunners, no…"
"It is a pleasure to entertain you all here." Grea beamed, stomping over to the curtained-off area. "Consider, if you would, the feasts of our ancestors, the most beautiful things I have ever laid eyes on, and it is with regret that I am not able to match such culinary talents. However," she grinned and grabbed a long silk rope, "I bloody well tried."
As the curtain fell away, many of the assembled let out an appreciative sigh.
The human part of it looked less impressed.
Multi-colored foodstuffs were piled high in wide gleaming bowls of tinted glass. Strange wiggling things writhed luminously among unmoving beetles with carapaces that gleamed like slicked oil.
Something scurried out of a bowl, and across the table towards the floor, before something bigger lunged out of its own dish and grabbed it in a pair of inch-long pincers before curling back up again.
There was only one thing on the table that the humans felt like sighing about.
A massive bowl sat in the center, filled with a sea of blue and green maggots, over which presided a large wire construct, covered in hundreds of glittering amber cubes in the perfect shape of…
"Halo…" The Arbiter breathed, "even now, even knowing what they are and what they do and what evil hides within the great rings still impress me."
"Whatever," John sighed. "I still think they're ugly."
"Each opinion is excepted." The Arbiter's massive hand shot out and grabbed the back of John's head, "I have no quarrels with your views," he slammed John face-first into the table, "and I appreciate your attitude to any and all of our beliefs. Never say that again."
John sat up, spitting out a mouthful of oats. "I can see I may have earned that." He stood up. "No offence to my planet, but I'd prefer to get a plateful of grubs then put up with these tasteless bars anymore."
John carefully inched himself through a gaggle of Grunts, and wandered along the table.
He sighed, eyeing the worms and beetles with distaste, until he dislodged a rock-like oat from between his teeth, and happily scooped up a plateful of, what Johnson would call, 'good homestyle cooking by the alien bastards.'
Suddenly an elbow swung out of nowhere, knocking the air briefly out of John's lungs.
As he doubled over partially, a black-clad Sangheili forced her way past him.
An already heaped tray was clutched in her, unnaturally long, curved claws, and her equally long teeth jutted out from her mandibles, leaving her in serious risk of putting someone's eye out if she swung her head around to much. She strutted along the length of the table, eyes flashing in delight as other Sangheili hastily dived out of her way.
She was actually about a foot shorter then the Chief, but authority seemed to radiate out from her, so that even a passing Councilor backed away carefully to avoid the jagged elbows and pointed hooves.
"There's never enough canapés, there really ain't." She sighed, shaking her head, causing a nearby Elite to squeal and stagger back, clutching at his arm. "It's like talking to myself here." She stomped over to John and jabbed him with a finger, "hand me one of them things boy!" She snapped.
John, not used to this, dumbly handed her some kind of spherical beetle.
"Ta!" She waved her fingers at him and stalked away.
John frowned, not really willing to object to her behavior directly to her face. "Who is that?"
"You don't know Demon?" The Elite with the injured arm wandered over, mopping up a few drops of blood with a small sheet of silk. "That is Pala 'Feloeposis, of the Coven."
"I thought you're all from the Covenant."
"Coven, Demon, it's called the Coven. A sect of the civilian population utilizing the same basic role as the Councilors." The Elite shot Pala a furtive look. "Only their methods are generally more secretive."
"She seemed very… pushy."
"There are many schools of thought on the Coven." The Elite lowered his voice. "Many rumors circulating their motives, their designs, their… rituals. Some claim they lure unwary soldiers into cannibalistic rituals."
John glanced in Pala's direction. "Surprised she's still hungry then."
"Best not to mention it to them." The Elite muttered. "Besides, Pala is the lesser of two evils. Just be sure to avoid Elsa 'Daeconosis." With a low chuckle the Elite turned to the overstocked table, "I'd rather criticize Grea's cuisine then come within ten meter's of Elsa."
At the end of the table, Grea glowered at the hapless Sangheili.
"Right," he backed away slightly, "I fear I must… inform certain sources… implore delegates of… answer the call of nature… Farewell Demon." He turned and marched quickly away.
"Always a pleasure," John closed his eyes and scooped as many objects off the table onto his plate as he dared.
There were a couple of plops as a pair of lovestruck worms made a bid for freedom.
Shame John's boot landed on them, really.
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"Amazing isn't it?" Eva tipped a generous amount of Sangheili wine into her glass and took a long draught, "humans and Elites can blow one another's brains out but they can't seem to engage in idle chitchat." She smiled around at her companions. "Your thoughts?"
"Less and less with each passing moment," Esi giggled around her own glass.
"I think that, after spending years attempting to murder one another it's only acceptable that they might, probably, have a bit of a problem getting on," Miranda Keyes shrugged, "I do know though, that the Sangheili sent to Earth to aid in the rebuilding are getting on very well."
"Oh, well," Eva shrugged, "'builder' is the same in every language. Though I'll note you're sitting with us Miranda."
"Hood has enough Commanders and Councilors surrounding him, he doesn't need me as well. Anyway," she spread her hands in a supplicating gesture, "it's not like we can force the two together."
Eva held up a hand suddenly, one claw extended. She took another swig from her glass before speaking. "Can we not? I think it might be possible to… force the two to converse of their own 'free will.'"
"Me doubt that," hunched over her rations, Nami grunted.
Esi sniffed, then immediately regretted it.
The tar-black substance in the almost organic-looking object clutched in the Unggoy's paw, the 'food nipple,' scorched the insides of the nostril and tended to caused rapid, unpleasant delusions in the minds of anyone sitting too near.
"Whad plan do you hab?" She groaned around the two claws she'd hastily rammed up her snout.
"Let me sort that out my dear Esi," Eva swung herself away from the table, then wandered over to a nearby Grunt Ultra. "Hey, Spegg."
"Wh…?" Spegg twisted around sharply, revealing an odd marking, four golden vertical lines on his breastplate. "Oh, what you want Eva?"
Eva grinned, "I need your help…"
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The Arbiter stared blandly down at the foodstuffs lacing his plate. "Well…" He offered generously, "you did your best, I suppose."
"My best?" John 117 cocked an eyebrow, "if you wanted something different you should've got it yourself. If you're going to leave me to fetch your food for you, put up with it."
"I'll give it my best." With an exaggerated grimace, the Arbiter picked through a pile of green and blue worms, "I mean really, these must be from the bottom of the bowl they are most listless and bland."
"I could say the same about you, Arbiter."
The Arbiter stiffened, then twisted his neck around.
There was a nearby table pushed close to the wall, slightly in shadow.
A female Sangheili was watching the Arbiter with a similar air that she probably would have reserved for an Unggoy.
The Arbiter frowned, "Elsa, what are you doing here? I did not know you went in for social gatherings."
"Someone has to be here. Who else?" Elsa shrugged.
She was clad in a long black robe, of some kind of silk but without the extravagance favored by most Sangheili. The plume on her head was a deep, blood red, and a swirling purple tattoo spiraled across her cheek, along her throat and disappeared down her chest.
Strange, fleshy tendrils hung off her head, the back of her neck and the back of her elbows.
"Elsa?" John frowned, "Elsa 'Daeconosis?"
"Yes." Elsa turned a baleful stare on him.
In the face of that dark stare, years of military training suddenly flew out the window, dragging John with it as he felt the terrible desire to stare at his feet and whimper uncontrollably.
Clenching his fists and straining against the childish fear, John stared resolutely at the end of her nose. His eyes were drawn to the fleshy tendrils bumping against the skin of her neck. "Interesting growth's, how long do you have left to live?"
Elsa chortled, without any trace of humor. "So you would be the Demon I've heard so little about. I thought you'd be taller."
"He looks bigger in his armor I assure you Elsa." Put in the Arbiter. He turned to John. "Those aren't growth's, they're a… fashion, among certain Sangheili, mainly females." He flipped a black-headed maggot into his mouth, "you know we Sangheili are of a more reptilian breed. We shed our skin occasionally, I mean. There is a treatment done during the shedding phase using various natural chemicals, that attaches the old skin to the new before it flakes off completely, then it is cut off at the desired length then rolled up and treated again. Eventually new skin grows over it and makes the whole thing permanent. It is entirely painless, yet somewhat uncomfortable."
"They call it…" Elsa paused thoughtfully, "I suppose it translates best to… Scalping."
John grimaced, "sounds unpleasant."
"Excuse me?" The Arbiter snapped, "from what I've read of your planet you humans stick plastic under your skin." He sneered. "Plastic."
A sudden commotion drew his attention to the main doors.
"Ah, now it's a party." The Arbiter visibly jumped as he suddenly realized Pala 'Feloeposis had materialized next to him with a stocked plate of food. "Oh my."
A huge group of Unggoy were waddling into the cafeteria, Eva and Spegg striding along in their midst. Spegg shot Eva a quick grin behind his mask, and shambled away.
Unlike the humans and Sangheili, the Grunts apparently had no reservations about where they sat, so long as the food nipples were in plentiful supply.
Eva's plan relied on two constants in order to come into fruition. One, the Unggoy's reliance on methane caused a malodorous fug to congeal wherever they gathered in large quantities.
Two, the smell emanating out from a half-eaten food nipple could get strong enough to floor an Elite in a matter of seconds.
Eva swung herself onto the seat next to Miranda. "Problem solved Miss Keyes."
Esi bubbled happily into her drink, while Miranda shot Eva an unsure look. "I can only hope you're right."
Even as she said this, numerous Elites and marines hurriedly vacated their seats and moved towards less-crowded tables.
One Elite Councilor suddenly made his way over to their table.
"What," he hissed, placing one hand on Eva's shoulder and swiveling her around, "do you think you are doing?" His tone was harsh, clipped, and his cracked mandibles hinted at his old age.
Eva rose to her feet and adopted her most winning, subservient expression. "Apologies noble Councilor, I made a mistake earlier and ordered Esi to cobble together far too much Unggoy fare, and I had hoped to rectify this. I apologize again if you…"
"Do you take me for a fool?" The older Elite grasped her wrist and twisted, "you, all of you, continually flouting our rules, denying the true honor of the Covenant. Far too many of you have… disgraced us." His breath almost made Eva gag, alcohol was already crystallizing on his mandibles.
Miranda and several others half-rose, concerned looks flitting over their faces.
"If you think…!" The Elite suddenly gave a start as, to Eva's immense surprise, the Arbiter materialized between the two of them.
"Good day, I trust there isn't a problem here?" He smiled benevolently, "do you have a grievance here 'Felsolee?"
"You… Arbiter," 'Felsolee's expression twitched as terror and anger fought for supremacy. "What…?"
"Surely you have no objection to our Unggoy brothers joining us in this merriment?" The Arbiter continued lightly, gently easing the elder Elites hand away from Eva. "You know, it was of amazing interest to me this evening that, I could not help noticing that, only the Unggoy captains and Councilors appeared to be here. Surely not all the, ah, lesser Grunts had duties that would otherwise occupy their time in such a way?"
"Grunts!" 'Felsolee snorted, "Brothers?!? There is no way… no way…"
"No way, indeed?" The Arbiter cocked a brow ridge, "how intriguing. Surely the Unggoy, by no means, earned a place at our side by joining us in battle? The Civil war, you remember?"
'Felsolee turned away, a mutinous expression twitching his face. "All cowards, we Sangheili fought harder then any!"
"Oh, indeed." The Arbiter nodded amiably, "in fact, I witnessed many of my brothers fight and die under the blows of the Fist of Rukt as they strove to rid the control room of Tartarus and his Jiralhanae. Although," he leaned in closer, "my memory perhaps is lacking in recent times but I do seem to recall," his voice dropped to a whisper, so only 'Felsolee heard it, "you were not among them."
The Arbiter leaned back again, beaming. "Have a pleasant day."
'Felsolee gave him a scandalized look, but mutely headed back to his seat.
"You seem to have Grea's knack for upsetting the higher classes." The Arbiter smiled at Eva, "enjoy your meal."
Eva stalked back to her seat, grinding her mandibles together in irritation as the Arbiter retreated.
"I think someone likes the Arbiter!" Esi chirped in a singsong voice.
Eva glowered. "Is it you, by any chance?"
Esi focussed her wildly swiveling eyes on Eva for a long drawn-out moment, before letting out a high-pitched giggle, "yes," now exhausted from the immense effort, Esi slumped forward, her jaw landing flat on the table.
Miranda gazed at the prone Sangheili, concerned. "Will she be alright?"
Eva sniffed, "once someone pulls her nose out of the Mildworms she will…"
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"So, uh…" Sergeant Johnson stared muzzily at the table. "I… what, turn this…?" He reached out hesitantly for a hexagonal object on the table.
"No!" Spegg slapped his hand away irritably, "you not get it, you not turn until it your turn. All you humans this stupid?"
"So then," Johnson frowned. "You turn yours then?"
Spegg shot him a withering look, "not if me intend to win." He flipped his own piece over.
Spegg, another Grunt, Johnson and an Elite, were gathered around a dark purple octogon placed in the center of the table, each with their own violet hexagonal piece, all of which were covered with various patterns. "Okay," admitted Spegg at length, "we go over the rules again…"
"Fear not Sergeant," the Elite sighed as Spegg started in a long list of rules about how the game was played, "the Unggoy games are always hard on the mind, they have so little else to think about."
Spegg glowered, "you want a thick mandible?"
The Sangheili chuckled, "impudent little monster aren't you?"
"Right," Spegg turned back to Johnson, "as me was saying…"
"Nah," Johnson leaned forward and put out his cigar on his own piece, "sod this, I fold, or forfeit or whatever," he stood up, abandoning his half-empty plate, "there's a poker game coupla tables away I think I'll join, hey O'riley deal me a hand!"
Almost as soon as he had left, the giggly little girl from maintenance slid into his seat, "hey there, any of you guys ever tried strip Jijeg…?"
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Fuka 'Hyoronmee stared down at his plate with a nervous expression.
Lord Hood watched him with almost reptilian patience. "Do you intend to finish today?"
Fuka scowled, "I will finish when I am ready." The Councilor picked up a slice of turkey with his 'finger utensils.'
A drop of cranberry sauce dripped off it.
"I think you have lied to me, this is not lizard."
"Well," Hood allowed a brief smile to flit over his features, "they were reptiles at one point in their history. They're birds now."
Fuka's eyes narrowed. "You are a most cruel and unusual human." He closed his mandibles around the object and made a big show of swallowing. "Your birds are less pleasant then ours."
"Funny, we say that about you too." A powerfully built human, Commander Roderick chuckled. "Fortunately your women more then make up for that."
Fuka's mate twisted around and scowled, "I do not believe that was a compliment."
"Chaangri, you can hardly blame humans for their animosity to our appearance," said Fuka affectionately. "I mean, look at them."
The humans looked at themselves. "What about us?"
"Well…" Fuka floundered, "just… look at your mouths, I mean they move up and down." He winced. "Eugh."
"Well, so do Grunts, Jackels and Brutes." Roderick shrugged.
"Oh yes, and we ogle them all the time." Chimed in Fuka's mate sarcastically. "Real pretty."
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Tenqa 'Daisommee tugged his shawl more tightly around his knees.
With a hand of cards clutched between his thin fingers, he raised his other hand, the one holding a glass, and waved it expectantly.
He had only to wait a second before Faela 'Teineyr leaned forward and refilled it, before sitting back down again on her haunches and gazing at the elder Sangheili in rapt fascination.
"Ah… Tenqa." Sergeant Belle leaned forward across the table, "do you have any threes?"
"Go fish." Tenqa glanced down, "are you going to finish your Mildworms?"
Belle nudged her plate towards him, on which was piled a handful of the worms and one crusty spider.
"Eugh, this is lame." Groaned another, nearby marine, "can't we play something else?"
"Forgive me, I am an old man," Tenqa scowled, "I do not learn new information as quickly as you, though I believe I have at least grasped this. Any fives?"
"Yeah," the marine passed one over with a groan. "Can I join the poker game after this Sergeant?"
"Whatever…" Belle waved him away. "You still following the rules Paiko?"
The young Elite snickered sarcastically, "if the old one can remember I can, no disrespect to you 'Daisommee, any… uh… ones, Miss Sergeant Belle?"
"Go fish," Belle offered, "we call them aces."
"Duly noted."
"Old," snorted Tenqa, "I am not old. I am mature. Very mature."
"Yeah, and I'm a bloody Spartan," Corporal Williams, sitting on the other side of Tenqa, chortled. He blew out a near-perfect smoke ring, siphoned off from his cigarette, and said, "any Aces 'Mister Mature?'"
"Not with that tone there won't be," snapped Tenqa lightly, handing one over. "Now," he gave Faela a pointed look, his claw closing around his, now empty, glass, "any chance of a refill? Or something stronger?"
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"My, this is fun isn't it?"
"Shutup."
"Indeed, this may even classify as a mild workout."
"I said, shut up."
"Shall I use some more effort?" With terrifying ease Taso' Ratanalee slowly twisted his arm around in the classic arm-wrestling pose, forcing the arms of the three marines attempting to fight against him down to the table.
"Oh, tough luck." Taso, stretched out his arm, massaging the muscles, "I'm still very impressed, you put up a reasonable fight."
A soft laugh by his side caused the marines to glower at his companion.
Tusa 'Falana, Taso's sister was perched on the side of the table, picking nondescript flecks of dust out from under her fingernails.
Clad in a flowing golden robe, she was far more elegant then the likes of Eva, with a massed quantity of 'scalped' skin spiraling down her neck and shoulders.
Tusa would've made the perfect match for a Councilor, was it not for Taso's overprotective tendencies.
Tusa examined her slender fingers, "any chance of there being a small roundgrub anywhere?"
"I fear they have been picked clean." Taso winced as a sudden pain shot up his arm, "ah, it would appear you did more then I thought."
He gave sudden start as the lights went out.
One of the marines was very surprised when Tusa gave a small squeal and clasped his arm.
A light lit up an object at one end of the room.
It began gliding across the silent cafeteria, now all but devoid of food.
The spotlight followed it, revealing it to be an almost perfect replica of the Pillar of Autumn.
Miranda felt a choking breath claw its way out of her throat.
Eva's eyes narrowed, "oh Grea, no, you wouldn't…"
The object glided across the room, drawing everyone's eyes as it passed.
"Quite a nice effect," complimented the Arbiter, while John grunted non-committedly.
It gave a neat barrel roll before landing carefully on the massive, ring-shaped centerpiece.
"Oh no…" Eva buried her face in her claws. "No no no no no no…"
The Pillar of Autumn exploded.
Cubes of amber split apart from the ring, as the whole edifice came apart over its worm-filled sea.
A hidden anti-gravity generator beneath the table activated, causing all the golden blocks to remain hovering in a flickering sphere of light.
The Arbiter shook his head in disbelief, "if she had tried that a month ago Grea would have been dangling from a pole by her entrails with the Councilor's baying for her blood. Very impressive."
Elsewhere Eva had dared to open her eyes. "Oh that… that… that…!" She sought for an appropriate word.
Sergeant Johnson leaned over from his table and whispered in the approximate area of her ear.
"Oh?" Eva frowned, "right, thanks. That bitch!"
"Outdone you again," Esi giggled, facing entirely the wrong way. "What a lovely wall…"
"Ahem." Near the back of the room, as the lights went back on, Grea rose to her feet, enduring mixed glares and looks of awe. "I would like to inform you that desert is ready, each block is a lump of crystallized Direweb spider nectar, said to be among the most sought after tastes in the galaxy. Enjoy."
"Why didn't you say so?" Pala 'Feloeposis quickly stood up and bustled towards the hovering chunks of honey, "it's about bloody time."
The Arbiter snickered, "well it's nice to see that the destruction of the ring is considerably sweeter this time. Do you not agree Demon?"
John surveyed the Arbiter for a long moment, before stating, "yeah, you are a dork."
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The Arbiter takes a swig from his glass of fruit juice to wash down the honey.
"Ah, fantastic, a perfect evening all round."
He looks up suddenly as the main door hisses open.
A naked figure streaks in, waving its arms wildly and gibbering.
"All right, that's it!" The Arbiter snarls, leaping to his feet. "Get back here and finish the next chapter you lazy bastard!"