A/N: I apologize for the short chapter. I have some exams coming up and I don't have much time to write. The next few chapters will be a little more interesting.
The gust of air silently hit the being, causing its entire body to rise and fall in its enlightened chair.
The Prophet rested its triangular skull on its clenched fists. With the Sangheili disgraced and the Jiralhanae establishing themselves as their replacements, it was his job to ensure the liquidation of the Cartairus garrison, while not letting the Sangheili's military talents go to waste. It was imperative they not learn of the debacle at High Charity, and the High Prophets' demise at the hands of the Flood and the Demon.
A faint static emanated from the Prophet's extensive communications suite, the armrest on the left side of the chair began to glow blue, and displayed a beam of light, which then morphed into the form of a Sangheili, it bowed reverently.
Field Master Zogarth Kalimee, commander of the 3rd Legion, Cartairus garrison.
"Exalted One."
"I presume that your stay has been uneventful? We would be immensely sorrowful if anything was to disturb the peaceful tranquility of the planet."
"Yes, Exalted. However…"
"Yes, Field Master?"
"There was an incident involving a squadron of our Fighters, the filthy primates have landed Heretics on our soil." The Prophet looked up, its hands gripping the hover chair.
"Humans Ship Master, or caste?"
"Caste, Exalted One." The Sangheili bowed again.
"Find them," the Prophet decreed. "And kill them, take their leader and hang him from his entrails, let the Garrison know what happens to traitors."
"At once, Exalted." The image fizzled out.
The Prophet gazed from his chambers in the Carrier Exalted Vengeance. The white-blue forms of two Covenant Cruisers shined against the green and blue planet Cartairus. The Prophet turned back to the six Jiralhanae which comprised the Honor Guard. Their ceremonial headpieces and the silver blades of their Brute Shots glistening in the mild light of the chamber.
"Habilus," the Prophet addressed the Captain of the Guard. He stepped forward, and bowed.
"Prepare the ship for descent to the atmosphere, we will teach the Sangheili what true loyalty is."
Under the bow, the Brute grinned what passed for a smile. "Of course, Exalted One."
"Okay, we've been walking through this field for six hours, methane bladders need refilling, and we've accomplished our objective. Where's our ride?" Kalimee motioned his platoon to stop while the AI Norman responded to his inquiry.
"I don't know how to say this Lieutenant, it doesn't matter."
"What the hell do you mean it doesn't matter?" Kalimee had heard the Humans say it before, it stuck, he had just hoped he'd never have to say it.
Norman let out a long electronic sigh. The next thing the 305th heard was the clicking of enable suit speakers and a few muffled voices, and static, lots of static.
"So they destroyed the Seraphs?"
"Yes, Sir." Kalimee recognized this voice as the captain of the Enkidu.
"Then operation Defective Squad is accomplished. Return to Earth immediately, if anyone asks the 305th defected back, do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir. Enkidu out."
This scared the Grunts.
"We'll all Diiieeee!"
"I'll never taste another food nipple…"
"Quiet!" All was silent.
"Norman," Kalimee said gruffly. "Where can we spend the night?"
"There's an outcropping of rocks that will provide adequate cover, and nearby lava flows should hide you from the Covenant's infrared sensors.
"Thank you," Kalimee said quietly. "Okay, follow me."
When the 305th Drop Jet Platoon had reached the rocks Kalimee pulled his executive officer aside.
"Hakimee, issue rations and refill the Unngoy's methane tanks," he lowered his voice a level. "And do what you can to keep the other castes calm, tell them stories, sing them lullabies, something."
"Yes, Excellency."
"Fine, good night."
The blow sent Kalimee to the floor, draining his shields. The combat form leapt for the downed Elite, but Kalimee rolled to his right, the form missing. He hunched into a more defensive position.
"Father, it's me!"
The form paid no heed, it whipped out its fibrous arms, smacking Kalimee across the face. The scarlet-clad Elite snatched a needler from the corpse of a SpecOps Grunt. Now he ha a weapon.
Once the reverent home of the Hierarchs, the floating city of High Charity was now a war zone. Covenant troops and flood forms battled amongst the spires and arches of the Temple.
The form again leaped, Kalimee dove under, now facing the form that had once been his father, he pulled down the trigger of the needler, a steady stream of explosive needles emerging; Kalimee shed a tear as the projectiles attached themselves to the abdominal cavities of the former Elite, then detonated; burnt flesh and green blood spewed everywhere, Kalimee's red armor was now green from the blood of the parasites. He grabbed a plasma rifle from his squad mate's body lying a few meters away, duel wielding the two Covenant weapons, he raced to the fight. It was going to be a very long day. He had already lost a father, now many of his friends would fall.
In the morning, after a having a makeshift meal of a few ration bars, and popping a stimulant, Kalimee set out to reconoiter the area. He hike about two kilometers to the west when he came upon another valley below the plateau on which the rocks were situated. What he saw shocked him.
Two Covenant cruisers floated eighty meters above the plains of Cartairus. Hundreds of Covenant troops milled about below. Grunts, Jackals, Elites. Several dozen Grunt methane huts could be seen, along with several "Dragon" plasma artillery turrets, and even a pair of Scarab command tanks. Their plasma cannons could rake the field with fire. Kalimee then heard something peculiar, it sounded like the footsteps of an Elite.
"Lieutenant Hakimee, I thought I told you I did not want to be disturbed."
"My apologies Brother, welcome to Cartairus. I am very pleased to see you, I'm sure the Prophets will feel the same.
