Razor's Edge: June 23rd 2545
Location: Orbit Above Earth
The Pelican eased in through the airlock and settled down in the tight confines of the Prowler's tiny hangar. Carter ran the Pelican's engines down until they finally fell silent and the hangar doors closed pressurizing the hangar and the frigid vacuum beyond. The rear ramp of the Pelican lowered and disgorged the ONI Captain and six Spartans. They took a few steps away before Osman turned back to face them, "I should hope you all know the layout of a Prowler by now, all your belongings should in your room already, meet me on the bridge in ten minutes." She turned and strode off leaving the Spartans to find their way to their bunk room.
Fortunately, Osman was right, Noble had been aboard Prowlers all too often over their long careers. When they arrived at the room they found that their possessions were indeed there already. Steven couldn't help but look through his things from back home, he always broke into a faint smile when he saw things from his universe in the Halo universe, although after everything that had happened he still felt a tinge of sorrow for the friends and family he had lost in his life.
When they arrived on the bridge Osman was already waiting for them, staring at the forward display screen, talking quietly with whatever AI was onboard, she turned to face them, straightening up. "Before we get started there are a few things I want made clear, I know am I am your superior officer but I am of the opinion that if I seem to be doing something foolish it's your responsibility to let me know it." Each Spartan shifted uncomfortably, there were very few officers with this sort of mindset and it didn't mix too well with the formal way they had interacted with previous officers. Osman seemed to notice there reaction and clarified her point, "That also means that with so few of us, I'm running a less formal structure, no need to salute every time you walk past me."
The rules laid out, they all felt more comfortable, "Steven", she said, it felt strange to be called by his first name by someone outside the team, "I must admit I defer to your expertise at this point, where do you think we should go?"
Steven paused for a moment considering, "Onyx", he replied, "We need to find and entrance to the Dyson sphere."
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Moro 'Valamee strode through the passageway of the Zealous Exultation towards the bridge, the few Sangheili around scattered out of his way, he was furious and was making it plain for all to see, his mandible flared, his footsteps heavy and threatening. The bridge doors slid open and he stepped up before the shipmaster. His commander looked down at him from his command chair. "Speak, 'Valamee" he commanded, waving a hand to emphasise his command.
"Shipmaster, I must speak with the Hierarchs, I must demand a special assignment. The demon has wounded me and fled without punishment, it is a matter of honour that I pursue." even through he rage he must still choose his words carefully, if he angered the shipmaster he could lose his station. "You are lucky brother, for even as we speak, we near our arrival to the sacred station, High Charity. Upon our arrival you may leave in a Seraph to seek and audience with the council, go now, await our arrival and may the grace of the Forerunners go with." the shipmaster replied, leaning back in his seat, ignoring Moro once more.
Leaving the bridge Moro could not help but feel some degree of displeasure at the arrogance of his captain, but it was not his place to complain, simply to obey. He had been a member of the Covenant military for the last ten years, he had been too young to fight when the war first began, but he had eagerly gone to war as soon as he was of age, he had earned his place in the Special Operations branch of the Sangheili Military. As a member of such a sacred institution he could not let his injury go unavenged.
The hangar was almost empty when he arrived only a trio of grunts stood around, refueling the Seraphs and a Huragok drifted around, making repairs and improving whatever it could get it's hands on. He often marveled at the Huragok, they were truly a gift from the gods.
He felt a slight lurch from the ship, they had arrived, he boarded the Seraph the grunts had finished refueling and activated the engines, the tiny fighter rose from the deck and shot out of the hangar and into open space. He quickly transmitted the proper codes to allow him past the home fleet surrounding High Charity and carefully weaved around the much larger assault carriers and destroyers that guarded the station. As he got closer he stuck to the flight plan he had been given, even a slight deviation and he would be vaporized.
He docked the Seraph on a section of the station reserved for those seeking an audience with the council, once he had exited the fighter he made his way down the long corridor that lead to the council chambers, lined with honour guards who stood, still as statues. Finally, he arrived at a small desk manned by a single Sangheili dressed in the robed such as worn by those who served the high council. "Brother, why have you come?" the Sangheili asked, straightening up to look at the newly arrived warrior.
"I seek and audience with the council." Moro replied, towering over the smaller council representative. Seemingly unintimidated the representative gestured to the seat beside the door, "The council is in session, you must wait for a time." Moro muttered under his breath but sat down.
It was over two full cycles before he was finally permitted into the chamber. The sight was spectacular, the council itself had retired for the day and he found himself alone in the presence of the three Prophet Hierarchs, Truth, Mercy and Regret. He stood before them and fell to one knee, bowing his head before the messengers of the gods.
Truth moved forward a little on his throne, "Rise warrior, and state your purpose here." Moro stood but kept his stance humble, "Noble Prophets, my name is Moro 'Valamee and my injury", he gestured to his two missing mandibles, "Is a result of the human's demons, I would request permission to seek out the one responsible and cleave his flesh from his bones." he spat the last part, is anger once again rising within him.
Truth rested a hand on his shoulder, clearly having noticed his anger rising. " 'Valamee, your request is… unusual. However, I understand that within your branch of the Covenant honour in battle is a way of life, to have been so badly disfigured without having gained revenge… you have lost almost all of your precious honour. Wait here, we shall discuss this a while."
Truth's hover throne back up a and along with Mercy and Regret they gathered in discussion, after a few minutes Mercy floated back to him, " 'Valamee, are you prepared to sacrifice all that you are, everything that you have, in the name of our holy Covenant, to regain your lost honour."
Moro bowed humbly and replied, "I am." he voice strong and unwavering. Mercy seemed assured, "Follow me, warrior." Moro followed Mercy through the rear entrance of the council chamber and out over a great chasm with a pod like structure at the centre. The entrance to the pod almost seemed to glow as they approached, preventing him from seeing what lay within.
Once they had passed through the entrance Moro saw that the room was lined with dark vessels, all the same sleek shape with purple lights glowing dimly along them. At the centre of the this room was a pod which was vertical. As it swung open it revealed it's contents, an set of armour so ancient it appeared on the wallpaintings within the ancient citadels of Sanghelios, dating back to before the San 'Shyuum-Sangheili alliance, the armour of the Arbiter.
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The Prowler dropped out of slipspace and entered into an orbit above Onyx, below the planet was an almost pristine green blanket, jungles barely disturbed since humanity had discovered the planet. Since Doctor Halsey had taken over the Spartan III program she had deemed it necessary to move them back to Reach, although still keeping them highly classified, Parangosky gave her little choice on that, therefore the planet was only inhabited by a small team working to excavate the Forerunner ruins.
"This is Captain Serin Osman of the Office of Naval Intelligence to codename: ONYX, we are coming down to examine your progress in the Forerunner ruins." Osman clicked the radio off and waited for a response.
"This is Onyx control, certainly Captain, land at our camp and we'll be happy to show you." the voice cut off and Osman stood thoughtfully for a moment but then nodded, "Right, everyone to the Pelican, we're heading down to the surface, Richard?" she waited for the AI to appear, his avatar was that of an ancient king of England, wearing a crown and wielding a sword. "Yes my lady?" he said, bowing his head towards her. She rolled her eyes, unimpressed by his theatrics, "You have the bridge."
Together she and the Spartans headed for the Pelican, grabbing weapons from the weapon racks in the hangar, no need to go down unprepared, just in case. The ride down through the atmosphere was uneventful thanks to Osman's skill as a pilot and they landed just outside the small camp with a quarter of an hour. The Spartans filed out of the Pelican, forming a perimeter around the Pelican, awaiting their escort from the camp. And they waited. It was a full ten minutes before there was any sign of movement. It was only thanks to their advanced hearing that the Spartans heard the sound of a rifle being cocked nearby and the spun around only to have round pour in from every angle.
Steven darted away, heading for the tree line. He leapt through the brush and vanished into the shadows. He looked back out at the Pelican and saw the others had also scattered, all except for Osman what had only had her sidearm, still clipped to her thigh when the assault had begun. He could make out a trio of armed men standing around her, rifle aimed at her head. One of them produced a megaphone, "We know you're out there, if you try and follow us, we will kill the good Captain." his voice was taunting.
Beside him heard a slight rustle but to his relief his motion tracker showed it was Kat, she whispered to him over the single beam comms, "Carter told me we're going to RV on you since it's the best location to launch our rescue op from." she explained. Steven flashed his status light green and lay down, making sure he couldn't be seen in case any more enemies were hanging around the Pelican. It was ten minutes before the rest of the team arrived, Emile was the last to arrive having had to dodge around the edges of an enemy patrol.
Once they were all together they moved further away from the away from the Pelican to take shelter in a hollow in a large tree. "Alright", Carter began, he voice taking on the tone it always did when he was planning an op, "Jun, Maria, you skirt around past the Pelican and provide us covering fire on my mark, take out the ones immediately around Osman first. Steven, you and Emile are going to sneak into the compound and engage as soon as Jun and Maria have. Kat, you move in behind to mop up any final resistance and I'll provide overwatch for any returning patrols. Move out and take up your positions."
They moved out in their groups and Steven made is way further around the large clearing containing the compound until he was just behind the largest building where, they had assumed, Osman would be imprisoned.
He waited in silence, utterly motionless, with Emile lying beside him on the ground, tense around to charge forward at the first shot. Suddenly everything happened at once, the radio came to life and Carter called in, "Osman is on the first floor of the largest building, Steven and Emile, use your ascenders to get to the roof and drop in through the sky light. Jun, Maria on my mark… mark."
From an indistinguishable point in the far tree line rounds came flying out and rained in through the windows, cutting down the rebels stood on lookout. Steven and Emile stood and charged forwards, rifles raised as they leapt over the six foot wall, barely stepping on it as they went. Each grabbed the grappler from their belt kit and launched it towards the roof, the cable snapping taut as they were yanked up into the air and climbed up onto the roof. Looking around they saw two guards just beginning to turn at the heavy thuds of the two Spartans arriving. They were too slow, Emile and Steven each raised their rifles, spitting a hail of bullets into the two men, knocking them to the ground, out of the fight.
Emile looked down through the skylight and saw that only Osman and a pair of rebels remained, one of whom had a pistol to her head. They dropped down like cats, landing silently before the two rebels, each putting a round into a target. The one to one side os Osman collapsed to the ground. The other winced as the bullet tore through his side with a spray of blood. "Weapons down! Weapons down!" he screamed waving the pistol frantically at Osman who looks surprisingly unconcerned.
Both Spartans lowered their rifles, unwilling to risk Osman's life. "Good… good," the rebel muttered to himself, trying to regain control of the situation he stood there for a moment, seemingly unsure what to do next.
Osman rolled her eyes and with a vicious swing of her elbow backed up by her other hand over her fist knocked him in the side, right by his bullet wound. The man screamed in agony and released his grip on her and she leapt to one side as Steven and Emile both raised their weapons and fired, silencing his screams as he was torn to bloody rivulets.
Osman stood up from the floor and straightened out her uniform giving the two Spartans an appraising look, she chuckled, knocking some dust off her sleeve, "Well I couldn't let the bastard beat you could I?"
Author's Note: There you go, another chapter, I hope to keep progress at a steady rate work dependent. Remember, please leave a review and I'm always open to hear any ideas you guys have for the story.
