CCS Illuminite Elegy, Orbiting Teegarden's Star b (Vulcan), Teegarden's Star, 02/09/2526

The door to the bridge opens, a small gust of air banishing any levity between us. Khore and Zoya step to the side, squeezing themselves against the wall so the exiting officers have room. First a major, then the other ranger squad leaders. Their heads are held low, quiet to the point of being able to hear the pinch-fusion reactor nearly a third of the ship away. Something obviously isn't quite going to plan. Brok exits a second later but doesn't follow the rangers. He stares at us, his next words against his own want, "Khore and Vol, you are to report to the bridge."

We shift gazes from Brok to each other. The message is clear, we both didn't expect to be called in. We obviously aren't being punished, right? Then we wouldn't have been called in so nonchalantly. But why would they need us and not the squad leader?

A memory pushes itself to the front of my head, one old enough to probably be misinterpreted, but clear enough for me to be certain that it did happen. Memories of talking with my father and brother, them effectively interrogating me after each and every spar to find out what I did wrong. It's odd, being moved from under the thumb of an authoritarian father to a dictatorial regime. Both obviously uncaring of my own opinions.

"Vol"

Khore had moved to the door, and now everyone in the squad is staring at me.

"Sorry," I mumble to myself, "Was caught up in my thoughts."

I join Khore by the door and we enter the bridge. It's different than the last time I came here with a thin film of dread hanging from the ceiling held in place by the choking quiet. As much as the sangheili and the Covenant may try to say otherwise there's a distinctly familiar chaos to it all. The chaos of potential death. I can almost imagine a family sitcom about the shipmaster of a cruiser and his posse, arguing over menial topics at a dinner table.

Once again most of the bridge crew that aren't actively at work are gathered around the hologram at the center of the dome shaped room. I recognize the shipmaster, in his debatably overgilded armor, Elkh next to him, and a couple ultras I simply don't recognize or didn't care to remember.

The 'Knights of the Round Hologram' are visibly heavy with weariness. I should consider myself lucky that I've had the chance to rest since we exited slipspace. Even Elkh, who often is the first to chatter, is uncharacteristically quiet, sipping on a drink of something out of a mug on his chair.

The Illuminite Elegy crosses the planet, as it slowly orbits, eclipsing the sun behind Vulcan and plunging the room into darkness. The bridge crew barely notices, but I blink several times as I have to get used to the violet light cast by the electronics in the room.

The shipmaster stares us down from his position on the other side of the central hologram, as if the changing of illumination made him realize we are here, "I didn't tell them to enter," he growls.

Wait, what?

Elkh speaks up, just a tad quieter than the shipmaster himself, "That would be me," he scoots forward onto the edge of his chair, "Given the recent circumstances I thought it would be prudent to have them present."

The shipmaster strides his way in front of Elkh, leaning over the diminutive san'shyuum who leans back into his chair, "Speak then, and pray your answer is satisfactory."

"Well," Elkh's chair drifts backwards and he makes a point to project his voice past the shipmaster, "It's clear we are lacking an effective solution to the asteroid in a timely manner. The invasion is underway, and is rather successful even for our standards, but it will be completely ground to halt with the asteroid's impact."

The shipmaster turns to one of the majors running the terminals on the bridge, the major meets his gaze as the shipmaster says, "Do you have what I ordered?"

The major pulls something from his screen and suddenly the hologram in the middle of the room changes, "I got what you asked, however you most likely are not going to like it. On impact a shockwave will be sent out from the point of impact across the entire planet. Wind speed exceeding 500 units[1] per second capable of tearing skin, and turning anything unfortunate enough to be uprooted into a lethal projectile. Well. At least if the concussive blast from the impact doesn't obliterate you first. Heard that? Well that is expected on a solid ⅔ of the planet. The rest of the planet won't suffer as much, but survival is unlikely. On the off chance anyone survives that, they'll have to deal with intense storms as a lot of the water content flash vaporizes and heats up. From the impact the planet will rapidly heat up to an near unbearable temperature, which will be trapped in the atmosphere by heavy particles. The entire ecosystem, and most of the structures will be obliterated with nothing left standing. As if that weren't enough the surface would also be cracked and earthquakes would be rampant as the tectonic plates recoil. Unless the gods themselves intervene you don't want to be on the planet when the asteroid hits."

"I understand," the shipmaster finishes, "And if we start evacuation?"

The majors grimaces, "We could get key personnel as well as equipment. Unfortunately even if we are to distance ourselves at the last possible moment we would still be leaving a vast majority of our troops and equipment planetside."

"Is there any way for them to survive?"

"Of course," the major shrugs, "By chance some of them will, but it won't look good. Not that it will do them much good seeing as there simply won't be much to invade afterwards. The humans would rather take as many of us down with them than let us run them over."

The shipmaster sighs, "Put all non essential forces on the evacuation. I want anyone important off the planet as quickly as possible. Relay this message to the Horizon Focus and the Lament. I want them on full evacuation duty as well."

"I commend the idea," Elkh speaks up, "But ultimately it doesn't solve our issue."

An ultra that was up until now completely silent speaks. His armor is marked by a long gash, reaching from just below his neck all the way down to his waist. His voice is quiet, a low growl as he stares down Elkh, "Stay your tongue san'shyuum. It is the sangheili who will deliver you from this incident, don't forget that."

Elkh scoots the chair around the hologram so that he can stare the ultra in the eyes, "Don't be this way. We have the same end goal in mind. And... " Elkh gives a mischievous smirk, "I outrank you."

The ultra snarls and takes a step closer to Elkh, but is halted by the shipmaster who grabs him by the shoulder, "Pay him no heed," I can hear the shipmaster whisper, only audible due to my close proximity.

The shipmaster steps back as the ultra returns to his spot, "Ultimately, we are left with many mediocre means to deal with the asteroid," he taps on a terminal near the hologram and the image changes from Vulcan to 77 Acheron. On the asteroid I can see one of the lost human gantries, attached to the far side of it and slowly propelling it towards the planet with engines the size of ships themselves. The number '03', in a vivid blood-red ink is emblazoned along the titanium.

The shipmaster looks towards another major, "If you would."

This major, a bit smaller than the other and with a large scorch mark on his armor steps forward and takes control of the hologram, "This is a simple matter is that we have means to mitigate the damage the humans will cause, but no way to effectively fully deal with the problem on hand. We, in theory, could use the shipboard plasma lance to bisect the asteroid in two, but in that case it doesn't remove the problem of the impact in the first place."

The hologram flashes for a second and a simulation of it being cut-in-half plays, complete with the eventual impact and the shockwave that follows, slowly creeping across the planet, "That leaves us with a secondary option. We deliver an antimatter bomb," the hologram shifts and shows a stripmine on the surface of the asteroid, "If delivered here," a red mark is highlighted at the bottom of the mine, "It should be enough to fragment the asteroid into more manageable pieces. However, only the most miniscule will incinerate on entry, and…"

He takes in a breath as the hologram shifts. Zooming out a bit more and showing that held aloft over the strip mine, supported by structural beams that jut into the asteroid itself, is a structure obviously built there by humans. The major continues, "Reconnaissance has shown that there are structures built on the surface and a tunnel network built into the asteroid. Scans indicate it's still functioning and as such it would be prudent to assume that they would have some plan to impede us."

My eyes stick on the engine, at this point it's too late as even if we manage to stop the engine on the asteroid it's still on a collision course towards Vulcan, "What if, uh…" I start, immediately grabbing the attention of everyone in the bridge, "We simply redirected the asteroid, slingshot it around the planet."

Silence reigns through the bridge for a moment. Maybe it would have been better for my own safety if I remained silent.

The same ultra who Elkh argued with earlier, the one with the gash on his chest, speaks up, "Who is this? And under what circumstances was he permitted to speak?"

Luckily Elkh speaks up, "I allowed him to be present. He was the one that ultimately discovered the asteroid for us, however," Elkh shoots me a glare, "You are right in that it was not his turn to talk."

"I apologize," I immediately speak up, "It was disrespectful and careless of me. It won't happen again.

The ultra snorts, "Good."

Elkh speaks up, "I do want to ask about the validity of his idea though. I, for one, have certainly heard far worse."

The shipmaster nods and turns to look at the same major with the scorch mark who takes his queue and starts, "The plan falls short when you consider the level of uncertainty at play. Not only does it have the same danger factor as the bomb, if not more so, but if it were to fail then we would not have enough time to do anything else of use. Not only that but we can't guarantee that we would be able to redirect the asteroid, as that would either mean being able to access the human systems onboard the asteroid, which we can't guarantee we will be able to do properly, or simply ram a ship into asteroid which will induce an entire new slew of problems."

The major stops, and just as everyone is about to move on to the next point he adds one last point, "The one point that makes this plan viable is that if it is successful then it is by far the most useful plan we have available yet.."

"And…" Elkh adds on a moment later, "It would allow us to continue the invasion without delay."

The ultra speaks up, "However it is impossible with what we have."

The shipmaster considers it for a second, his opinion of the idea made known by a lack of dismissal. The major, seeing his turn to speak begins timidly, "I wouldn't quite say 'impossible'," he taps at his gauntlet and the strip mine from earlier returns, he zooms it on the roof, mostly flat with contours shaped to the size of the room, minus a satellite dish which sits on the roof pointed into space, "It's likely any information sent to the asteroid base comes through this mine here as every other surface borne base lacks the power to receive or send information to another celestial body. If we were to get a technician or a huragok down there who could access the local network it is completely possible that we could take control of the engines."

"Realistically," the shipmaster speaks up, a slow and measured tone that gives away no emotion, "What are the chances of this idea working."

The major stammers for a second, "Uh… it's really impossible to know."

The ultra pipes in, "Estimate."

The major stammers a bit more, tripping over his words as he continues, "W-well. If everything goes well, then I can't see a significant reason why the plan won't work. However, with all that is going on, I can't say for certain that we will even be able to take control of the engines, much less redirect them."

"But provided it succeeds it's the best plan we got," Elkh chimes.

"Albeit as foolish as it is," the ultra spits.

"But it allows us to save as many lives as possible," the shipmaster hums to himself, "It simply leaves the question of who will undertake the mission, and what if they fail? There are simply too many factors at play to expect it to be uneventful."

"Why not send an entire battalion?" Elkh asks, taking a sip from his mug, "Redirect the asteroid with no chance of failure."

Scorch-mark major speaks up again, "We aren't completely sure the plan will even work. Even then any recourses that could be used for this will have to be diverted from the evacuation effort."

"So we need a small team," Elkh starts, slowly nodding as he stares at the shipmaster, "Ah. I see where you are going with this."

Most of the bridge immediately turn to Khore and I, and I suddenly regret speaking up, "Given that it is his plan," the ultra from earlier growls, "I view it prudent that the burden of the mission be placed upon him and his squad."

"Then this matter is decided," the shipmaster concludes, turning to me, "Tell your squad of your new mission as you leave. I expect you to do all in your power and beyond that to ensure that the asteroid does not kill a single one of us. Should redirecting the asteroid prove to be impossible, then you shall destroy it, I shall not be made a fool by the primitive infidels who assail us, understood?"

"Understood," I respond.

The shipmaster stares at me for a second, beckoning another major who was using a terminal over, "Get a phantom prepared in hangar 3-1. Load an antimatter bomb and prepare it for departure," he orders, turning to me yet again once he finishes, "Don't disappoint me." He commands.

I nod in response, the shipmaster stares as if judging if my nod was respectful enough before deeply exhaling and turning away, back to another matter that needs his attention.

Khore and I bow and leave the bridge, as they start up another discussion immediately as we do so. The door flashes and we step out to the waiting arms of the rest of the squad, "So," Zoya says, "What happened?"

Khore looks down at me and I grimace, "Well… we have a new mission."

"I must commend you Vol," Zoya drawls as we enter the armory, "Getting us a potentially suicidal mission from insulting the bridge crew. Very impressive."

"You know, I can't tell if you are joking," I respond.

She chuckles lowly to herself, "Yes and no. Only a fool like yourself could simultaneously acquire a mission while simultaneously insulting the bridge crew."

I snort in amusement and leave it at that. The same quartermaster as the last couple times I've visited the armory is behind the same booth as always, obviously having noticed us enter the room, as we are the only other inhabitants, but waiting for us to talk to him. The tips of the quartermaster's mandibles flare as he recognizes me, speaking up in a gravelly monotone voice that betrays his message, "Thank the gods. When I heard the news I thought you were at the impact site."

I lean against his table, "Thanks. Fortunately I'm about to be sent on another mission, so I can regale you in the tales of my near death afterwards."

He shakes his head amused at my juvenile comment, "Near death is better than death itself. I would know."

Zoya walks up next to me, having given me a moment to converse with the quartermaster, he turns his focus to her and simply says, "Zoya?"

"The one and only," she replies.

He nods and reaches below the table, pulling back up a plasma pistol in hand, "Battery has been replaced and fully charged like you asked. The coolant release button was sticky so I went in and cleaned it out and the magnetic containment has been recalibrated. Should work as new if not better."

She grabs it, swinging it around in her hand as she tests the weight, aiming it at the far wall with exaggerated bravado. Once satisfied she adorns it on a hardpoint to her waist… next to her already two plasma rifles and energy sword. "Don't you think you have enough weapons?" I cordially prod her.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it just seems a bit… overkill."

"Killing is what we do, is it not," she leans in close, "I would be the best at what I do. Lest I'm nothing more than a child playing soldier."

"Uh huh," I nod half-heartedly, "Very poetic. You should try writing literature."

She pauses, "Is that an attempt at humor?"

I shrug, "Yes and no."

She doesn't respond, instead taking the moment to just stare at me, her face unreadable. After a solid several seconds she breaks out into a guffaw, patting me on the back, "Vol, you confuse me, in a cute sort of way."

The quartermaster 'accidentally' drops one of his tools on the table, an odd tool that looks like the crossbreed between a sickle and a wrench. It clatters on the table, loud enough to stun Zoya and I from our conversation. The quartermaster picks up the tool, and says, "Take it outside the armory. I'm trying to work here."

Zoya taps her foot and stares him down, and for a brief moment I wonder if she's going to start a fight. She breaks into a smile, "Stay behind your walls, I'll be sure to keep you safe."

The quartermaster slams a damaged needle rifle on the table, the tip crushed inwards, "Out. Now." He orders.

I consider saying something nice to him, but his focus is entirely on the needle rifle now. He seems happy enough with his job so I won't bother him.

Zoya leaves with me following right behind her, "To the hangar?" I ask.

She stares past me, not answering my question. "I think we have a visitor. The frail cowardly type."

I turn to see Elkh floating down the hallway in his anti-gravity chair. He stops in front of us, nodding and saying, "I would speak to Vol alone, if you would," not to subtly gesture Zoya away.

She shrugs and steps away, striding down the hallway and disappearing through a door.

I turn back to Elkh. He rests his arm on his chair, his hand snaking behind his neck and massaging some muscle quietly, "I've come to wish you luck."

I give him a blank stare and don't respond. He's obviously here for a reason beyond pleasantries.

Elkh chortles lowly to himself, seeing my lack of a response. He pulls his arm from behind his neck and rests his chin on his hand, "You know if I were anyone else I would give you a god-forsaken lecture on the expectations about proper respect."

"Then go ahead."

"But you're as dense as a huragok, so it would just be a waste of my time," I ignore the insult, as much as I want to return one, "So, you're probably asking why I ventured all this way to talk to you…"

"I'm assuming it's not my riveting conversational abilities," I intercede.

He rolls his eyes and continues, "You're prodding at things you may not want to poke at."

"Which means?"

He pulls his head away from his hand. In a moment the bored disinterest is replaced with a calm focus, "Your name is making its way around the leadership. As much as I know you like to enjoy juvenile jests, what you do carries more weight than you think."

Elkh's sentence hangs heavy in my mind. For the longest time I always enjoyed the air of anonymity provided by the sheer population of the Covenant. No one knew me, and no one bothered to, so I really didn't have to worry about how I carried myself, "What do you mean?" I ask in return.

He leans back in his chair, "You were promoted after your first tour, rare but not unseen. However, it speaks magnitudes for your character, to everyone else you're either a prodigy or got a lucky stroke. Should it be found that you were nothing more than a fluke then it speaks magnitudes having given my word to aid in your promotion."

"So you're just here to defend yourself."

Elkh sighs, "You don't seem to understand. I'm here for both of us. Contrary to what you seem to think not everyone of my kind is plotting against yours. Not every relationship has to be antagonistic, as much as I am doing this for my own good, I am also trying to help you. Allies are difficult to come upon, you will find this out soon enough. I don't want to hate you Vol, don't make me."

"Your mission is as much as a test as it is a duty," he speaks slowly, his voice barely audible, "The shipmaster is attempting to figure out whether or not you are reliable. You're not the leader of your squad but you are the one who proposed the plan, and the one who the duty was assigned to. This mission is on you and the success of the mission will speak magnitudes of your character. And if you would fail," he snorts to himself, "Well don't fail."

It's a lot to digest, but isn't too surprising. Elkh stops talking, looking at me expectedly, waiting for me to say something. "Thank you," I slowly say, feeling as if every word I say will potentially set off a mine, "But you still want something."

Elkh smiles to himself, "You think you are too smart for your own good. I'll see you when your mission is complete. May the gods be in your favor."

The air felt heavy inside the phantom. It was dark and smells oily, acrid enough to make my nose scrunch involuntarily. The phantom obviously was used a lot recently. The ceiling held low and shone a midnight blue that almost gave the impression I am underwater. Zoya stood in front of me, barely held excitement bubbling to her skin and making her twitchy while Tyrh stood behind me, fiddling with some device on his forearm I can't make out.

On my right the antimatter bomb that will possibly be used as a last resort. With the minute changes in inertia as the phantom pilots the bomb shifts along the ground, one of the spikes inching ever so closer to my face. It would be incredibly anticlimactic if I were to get this far only to be impaled in a phantom due to a jerky turn.

"Vol," Zoya has craned her neck around to face me, "Don't look so grim, we are about to take part in battle, don't let your nerves overtake you."

I return a smile in spite of the fact she can't see it. "I'm not nervous, just… paranoid."

She turns her head back, speaking as she does so, "Those two are one in the same."

I grumble to myself. In the situation the last thing I want to do is argue the semantics of vocabulary. Zoya seemingly agrees and goes back from passive-aggressively insulting me to internal boredom. In the meantime Tyrh pokes me in the back, I twist my head around to see him lean in and whisper, "I wouldn't worry about Zoya. She gets rather fretful before battle."

The shrug and whisper back, "She will need more than insults if she actually wants to unsettle me."

Tyrh chuckles to himself, "She will certainly throw a lot of those at you."

I nod in response and go to reply, only to be cut off by Brok's voice, loud and commanding, echoing through both the interior of the phantom and the comms inside my helmet. He steps to the front of the phantom, most of us without a choice but to look at him as he speaks up, "We are nearing our target. Scans indicate that there is an unignorable human presence aboard the mine as well as a bevy of running devices. Without first person reconnaissance it is impossible to say what they may have prepared, but regardless it must be said that they are likely to try to hamper out progress. By the gods we will make sure they fail."

Zoya cheers to no one in particular and Tyrh mumbles to himself. On the other side of the bomb Khore simple seems uninterested, flexing his hand open and closed as he prepares for the battle. Brok, either not paying attention to our lack of interest or not caring continues, "Khore I want you to stay in the phantom and provide overwatch. Keep us updated on anything that happens and provide covering fire if possible."

Khore nods, unholstering his needle rifle from his back, "Your will be done."

Brok nods, continuing a moment later, We will be dropped outside the human compound and proceed inwards. We will have sensors providing us rough locations of human presence as well as the gift of the gods behind us. Once we rid this location of its filth, Tyrh will access the human network, linking it back to the Elegy and allowing us to redirect the asteroid. Provided that is completed without any further incidents we will call for extraction and return. Let this mission be swift and our hands steady."

Brok pauses for just a moment, probably for dramatic effect. As if on queue another voice rings through our helmets, the pilot. Having not seen him in person he sounds remarkably young. I was told by Tyrh that he volunteered as our pilot upon hearing the importance of the mission, by miniscule events during the flight I can pinpoint that he is relatively inexperienced, albeit not enough to be worried. The pilot's voice booms over the ambient noise of the phantom, his quiet voice enhanced by the comms system, "We are on approach now. The mine should be in view soon. I will vent the atmosphere momentarily and open the side hatches so that you may gaze at yourself. I don't pick up any anti-air batteries on the surface, but I will keep watch. I will circle the compound until further instruction."

As he finishes another sound joins the silent cacophony around me, a high-pitched whistle of the air being vented out, slowly drowning out the other sounds as the inside of the phantom becomes a vacuum. Zoya flexes her arms, acting even more skittish than before, "The youngling sounds like he is terrified and he's not even fighting! Bah."

The line is silent for a second, before the same voice from before pipes back in, "I can still hear you," the pilot remarks, "My honor depends on your life, and an appropriate amount of fear keeps me focused."

"Aren't we all," I mutter.

Zoya chuckles, "I can only imagine."

The impromptu conversation ends as the side hatches open up. Holding onto the roof I step near the edge with Brok, and Zoya standing by my side with Khore on one knee, in front of me a hair's breadth from the edge, needle rifle in hand.

Watching the mine from our slow orbit, the most striking thing is the lack of wind. In all my time on ships on a planet my mind immediately assumes that whenever I'm in an unenclosed ship there should be a near deafening roar of wind. But staring at the admittedly unremarkable compound I can't help but also feel that I am underestimating what we are about to get ourselves into.

And then, something thunders into me. Between my shields flaring and absorbing the impact of… something, the sudden reaction of my squad around me, and the vacuum around us making it hard to tell what's going on, it takes a full couple of seconds to realize what's going on. A bullet flitters past my vision surrounded by micro metallic particles, and the tip smashed into the body. Someone had taken a shot at us, it had missed us all, thankfully, but ricocheted on the interior of the phantom before finding its way into my shields. Had it not ricocheted, I would probably be bleeding out.

In the time it takes for me to notify the rest of my squad what's going on, another shot bounces off the bottom of the phantom, Zoya pointing out with her trunk-like arms shouting, "Sniper! There." Her hand is directed towards a platform next to an airlock, with several crates full of rocks providing cover for a figure in an industrial vacuum suit with a sniper leveled on the corner of a box, aimed at us.

Khore, still on one knee and uncaring of the shots we are receiving, returns fire with his needle rifle. Many of the shots bouncing off the sleek silver surface of the mine and flying out into space. Nevertheless the return fire is enough to suppress the sniper, giving my shields enough time to recharge and us to reorient ourselves. Before the phantom has a chance to rain down hell upon the sniper, they retreat back inside the airlock and into the mine. Ending the gunfight as soon as it started.

"Put us down where he was," Brok commands, exposing himself to the open hatch and watching the airlock close behind the human, "Let us teach the human what happens to those who wish to defy us."

"Understood," the pilot responds, slowly curving into a turn as he brings us down to the loading platform, with barely enough space between the boxes for us to have a safe landing zone. This feels like a trap waiting to be sprung.

Brok jumps down the grav lift, with Zoya basically right on his heels and Tyrh joining them a moment later. I go to follow but Khore grabs my arm at the last second, looking me in the eyes and touching our helmets so that I can hear him without the use of comms, "Keep them alive," he says, his voice muffled by our helmets, "Kill all the humans. This is the one thing I know I can trust you with."

I pull away, and mutter a response, realizing a moment later that he can no longer hear me. So I simply stand next to the grav lift, nod to him and jump down.

Zoya is already next to the airlock, seemingly ready to try to open it with her bare hands while Tyrh stands to the side, resting against a crate and watching Zoya with a sort of nonchalant amusement.

"Tyrh," Brok starts, seeing that I have now exited the phantom, "Open up the door."

Zoya slumps and steps to the side as Tyrh simply walks over to the door and presses a button on his gauntlet. I walk up behind him as he fiddles with some sort of screen projected on his forearm, "I've never seen a device like that before," I comment as I watch him work.

Tyrh hums to himself, "That's because it was given to me by the gods themselves."

I blink, "Excuse me?"

The door opens and Tyrh stands up, "A joke. You overreact a lot," he responds, "Made the gauntlet myself as a childling, and have been upgrading it ever since."

Zoya pats him on the back, "Aren't you forgetting someone?"

Tyrh scoffs, "My bad, Drifts Through Clouds helped me."

"Drifts Through Clouds?"

"Ah," Tyrh corrects himself, "A huragok from Hylde, the uh colony we all grew up on. As a childling I showed minor interest in technology and Drifts didn't stop until he had given me a device that allowed me to interface with just about anything."

"Just about anything?" I ask.

"An exaggeration," he steps into the airlock, "but most electronics are fundamentally the same."

I gaze through the now open airlock and follow Brok in, with the rest of the squad following behind us. As we enter Tyrh says, "Cycling," and the airlock closes, another hissing noise as the space around us pressurizes.

"You know," I start again, continuing where the previous conversation left off, "A device like that is probably incredibly useful."

"Provided you go through the training to use it," Tyrh responds, "It's… uh," he skips ahead and holds his arm out in front of us, stopping all of us in our tracks.

"What is it?" Brok demands.

Tyrh crouches down and runs his finger through the air at knee-height level. He pulls at an invisible string, and a moment later I can see the silver glint of a tripwire.

"How in the hell did you spot that?" I absentmindedly wonder.

Tyrh responds, "It makes sense. The humans are tenacious, using whatever they have on hand. And… it's what I would do." He stands back up a moment later, having tracked the wire to a device hidden in a vent, "It's a tension release. Cutting the wire would only set off the trap. Just step over it for the time being and keep watch, there is likely to be more."

Brok steps over, almost tripping the wire on purpose as if to dance with danger, "Naturally the humans resort to cheap tricks like this," he growls, seemingly trying to intimidate the tripwire into submission.

"It means they're afraid," Zoya grins, stepping over the wire, "Good. They should be."

"It also means they want us dead," I poke in, following behind them, "Which I would want to avoid, you know, if possible."

We pass through the next doorway and into the following room. For every doorway in the mine there seems to be a sort of secondary airlock made up of two doors that would allow the mine to close off an area in the event of decompression. As we enter the comms crackle and Khore's voice fills the air, "You should be entering a hallway. After the hallway you should come upon another door leading to a large room. Heat sensors detect a moderate presence, expect resistance. I will not be able to support you there."

Zoya practically sprints across the hallway, only stopping to wait for the rest of us to catch up. Her fingers are dancing along the hilt of her energy sword and she bounces in place as she slowly hypes herself up. Brok notices this and as we catch up to her he mutters, "Don't become an issue that I must solve."

Tyrh joins in a second later, "And don't get blown up by a trap that we could've avoided."

"And try not to die," I chip in.

"And make sure to say your daily prayer, and don't forget to clean your weapons," Zoya drawls sarcastically, continuing the conversation, "Do you have any other crucial information you want to share with me."

I roll my eyes, "Don't eat the yellow snow."

"Excuse me?"

"Nevermind."

We gather around the next doorway. In the silence created by the anticipation for a fight I can hear the faint sounds of life on the other side of the door. Hushed muttering, light footfalls and the faint metallic rattling of the life support systems. Almost as if on command the comms crackle to life with Khore's voice playing, "Based off of movement I doubt they realize how close you are."

Tyrh chips in, "They likely expected our advance to be telegraphed from the trap."

"Then we have them unaware," Brok surmises, "Good, let us purge this asteroid of filth."

"Seconded," Khore pokes in.

I clench my mandibles and add in at the end, "But let's not forget our mission."

Zoya, lightly leaning against the door frame growls at our conversation, "Silence! Do you all want to inform the humans of our presence?" A moment of silence greets her question, "Exactly, let us start this fight and stop this nonsense."

We all crowd along the edge of the door, Brok muttering as he does so, "I wouldn't expect as much from the vermin. There's little they can do to stop us anyways."

The air grows heavy, for me at least, as we mentally count down the final seconds before the fight begins. The itching thought of death is always scratching at the back of my mind, asking myself what if a stray bullet or explosive kills me here. I doubt I would even have time to realize what's going on before I die.

"On my mark," Brok says. Zoya grabs the handle for the door with one hand, with a plasma rifle fully ready to fire in the other. I quench any stray thoughts, it's not time for them now.

"Breach," Brok says.

Zoya slams the door open and is the first into the room. Brok joins her a second later, Tyrh behind him and me behind Tyrh. I get into the room and for a nanosecond my mind runs as fast as it can before the fight truly starts.

The humans sit on the other side of the room. There are 5 of them. First, a short guy with a buzzcut, assault rifle resting on his shoulder with a cowboy hat sitting on his head. Second and third, a guy and a girl next to a window viewing the barren landscape, just now turning to react to us. Fourth a young man with a shotgun in one hand, the barrel resting on his knee, and a knife in his other, both arms fully covered in sleeve tattoos, and a beanie that lazily sits on his head. And finally, a gigantic man nearly the same height as Zoya, using a mounted machine gun in the middle of the room with overturned desks acting as cover.

And then, the fight starts.

The first to fire is the man manning the machine gun. The small pressurized room roars with the sound of gunfire, as everyone in the room takes cover. Between the mounted machine gun and the combined fire of the rest of the humans the fight reaches a momentary standstill as we trade shots.

"HAHA," I peek over the desk I'm hiding behind to see the man with the machine gun shouting as he fires, "Just you fuckers try to stop me! I'll fucking kill you all!"

Despite not understanding what's being said Zoya stands up from behind her cover, leveling her energy sword at the machine gun and issuing a challenge herself, "This one's mine!" she commands, unphased as bullets ricochet off her shields.

Zoya grabs a tungsten desk with one hand, hoisting it up to her chest with an audible heave, using it as a shield to block incoming bullets. With her energy sword held outstretched in her other hand she charges the makeshift entrenchment, barreling over other chairs and officeware. She crashes into the entrenchment, throwing the desk to the side while using her energy sword to cut off the barrel of the gun.

The thunderous chatter of the machinegun stops, and without the implicit fear of being mangled by the heavy weaponry the standstill is broken. Brok surges from his hiding spot, plasma rifle held outstretched, chattering bursts of fire splashing against the metal on the far back. Seemingly following Zoya's lead he also charges in, igniting his energy sword mid-dash and plunging it through an enemy who was unfortunately focused on Zoya. The impaled human's hat drops to the ground and he manages to pull his sidearm off, aim it at Brok's head and fire. The shot harmlessly bounces off Brok's shields.

"Can you feel it?" Zoya's sing-song voice echoes in my helmet, her voice unfocused and soft as she talks while fighting, "Their deaths approaching. Watch them rout, watch them scatter."

"Adrian is gone," a voice echoes through the gunfire, the culprit being the beanie wearing man with the shotgun. He raises his shotgun towards Tyrh, I fire a couple of shots off at him, suppressing him and keeping him from obliterating Tyrh.

A loud grunt echoes from the center of the room, "Heard!" A loud metallic clap sounds followed by an angry curse spout out from Zoya, "Be ready to pull back boys!" the gigantic bull-headed man vaults out from the emplacement in the center of the room, firing as he runs towards the exit in the far side of the room, as he does so he drops a smoke grenade. The grenade detonates in their corner of the room, covering most of them as we blindly fire into the smoke. "We're almost through the worst!" The same man shouts, a metallic scratching sound rings from the other side of the smoke, "Balthazar you're out first. Good to see you still breathing. Good work on the traps."

"Helena, let's get you through. Watch your head, sorry."

"And Elias," followed by a hushed whisper, at an audible level where only I can understand it, "And I'm sorry about Adrian."

I jog up next to Zoya, there's a part on her helmet right above the left eye where the metal sports a new dent. She holds an angry gaze on the smoke, flexing her hand with the energy sword in it. "I wouldn't," I say, "Pushing through smoke will probably only get you killed. Who knows what traps they have set up on the other side."

She looks at me from the side of her eye, her gaze locked on to the smoke screen now a mere step in front of her. Her voice is low, with her mandibles held tight to her face in frustration, "Then you simply misunderstand what I want."

Her head twists just enough for her right eye to focus on me, "I don't panic at the thought of death. The thought of losing a fight is what scares me."

"You must be very scared then," I deadpan.

She twists her head back towards the smoke in gravely snarl, her features angled towards the ground, "Must you derive some sadistic joy out of childish sarcasm. Especially at a time like this?"

The sudden aggressiveness from her catches me off guard, not that it wasn't inherently deserved. Zoya takes one moment to decipher my hesitant phase, huffs to herself, turns back to the smoke and speaks, "I don't intend to let the humans escape, they still owe me a battle. If you are done with your witticisms I will see you at the next fight."

She fades into the smoke a moment later my comms light up, "Zoya speaking. The humans are retreating and I am pursuing them."

I turn my head back to Tyrh and Brok. Tyrh is wedged under a computer tearing at its insides while Brok looks at me at the sound of communication. I flip on my comms and continue, "I'll provide Zoya assistance. Vol out."

Brok nods to himself and speaks up, "Understood. I will provide cover for Tyrh while he infiltrates their network in case the vermin double back. Update me on any occurrences, I will rendezvous shortly. Let the vermin foul this place no longer."

I push through the smoke, adrenaline still running high as I follow Zoya's footsteps. I pass through another door, having to pull my head low on the airlock, traveling through a hallway into another room. A door hanging open with a fresh red hot plasma burn marks their path in the next room, the room still smelling faintly of ozone from the recent engagement. As I travel into the next hallway the sounds of gunfire echoes, muffled from behind the nearly sealed door on the other side of this new hallway.

I push the door open with a single hand, in time to see Zoya, hiding behind a cabinet sitting in the middle of the room, with an ignited plasma grenade in hand, blue gas surrounding her feet and pooling across the room. She tosses it back, a shout, "Get down!" and an explosion.

"How very kind of you to show up," Zoya snarks. She steps out from behind her cabinet. The humans have a metal dresser of their own overturned and used as cover, the front drooping molten slag on the ground. They recover remarkably quickly from the explosion and focus their fire on Zoya; my hud lets me know her shields are dead just as she pulls back into cover. Her armor now radiates off coolant. "Any assistance would be appreciated," she says, her eyes focused on me, but her attention elsewhere.

The moment it takes for Zoya's shields to recharge gives a momentary abatement in the fighting. A soft shrill voice, hoarse from yelling, speaks over the trading of gunfire, "Get this on, make sure it's snug around the joints but not too tight…" Whatever she says next is inaudible over a long spray of an assault rifle.

It's fine by me, I'm doing my best to avoid killing as much as possible. Whatever these group of humans are doing they are obviously running somewhere. Ideally they have some escape option they can retreat to without spilling any more bloodshed. Another voice, baritone and loud, the first large human, "Helena. Detonate the mines."

"I thought that we are going to…"

He interrupts, "I know, I know, but they have a gunship. We can use it as cover while we-"

Talking of mines. It sends alarms ringing in my head. We already avoided a tripmine, what more is there we haven't found yet?

A chime on my helmet, Zoya has her shields back. She roars, cusping the border between focused determination and aloof rage, "You humans make good opponents." She turns on her energy sword and jabs it into the titanium cabinet. It withstands for a moment, slowly heating up until it's glowing orange until it melts a hole large enough for me to reach my arm through. She holds her plasma rifle at the hole and starts firing, spraying a stream of plasma at the humans. "Don't hold back," she continues, delivering fire from her cover with glee, "I won't."

My comms light up a moment later, "Vol, Zoya. This is Brok, Tyrh finished setting up communications and the engines are being redirected. Where are you? The only task left is ridding the site of vermin."

"Vol here," I turn on my communications, "I am two rooms down with Zoya we are still engaging the humans. I recommend-"

Khore joins in on the line, interrupting me, "Excuse the intrusion, but I have you located. They are fighting in the east airlock. It's possible the humans are planning on escaping onto the surface."

"Then we shall corner them like the pests they are. Come in on the exit, cut off their only means of escape. Tyrh and I will rendezvous with Vol in the meantime, eliminate any chance they have of escape."

Another voice, human. I have to strain myself to understand both conversations going on at the same time, "Detonate the mines now. We don't have much time before they close in and-"

"Understood," Khore, this time, "We're coming down low to-"

"Heard. Lighting those puppies up," a new voice. Still human.

"Wait," I shout over the mic, grabbing the attention, "Don't come down, I think the humans have mines set up somewhere that they plan on-"

"- Get your head down. Detonation in 5, 4-"

"How do you know this?" Brok questions.

"Just get down!" I shout.

"3, 2, 1-"

I feel the explosion before anything else. A deep rumbling, closer than the distant shaking of the engine but more disturbed, chaotic. My mind tricks itself into thinking it's a light earthquake. Then thunder, the entire room shakes from under my feet. Half-instinctively half-accidentally I brace myself on the wall, using it to barely keep myself standing. The walls buckle in many places and the room screams as the metal creaks. A single window near the airlock, paned 3 times over and nearly a meter thick each shatters. The rush of air joins the cacophony of chaos. It goes on for only a few moments but feels much longer. By the time it's over my mind is sluggish and body addled as if I was rattled to my core. Something feels different, more muted. My mind registers a moment later that I'm now in a vacuum. I stumble from behind the cover Zoya was using, and manage to focus on the airlock. It's open, but barely visible. With the explosions all the dust on the surface of the asteroid has been cast up, creating a impromptu fog covering over this portion of the asteroid.

The room is now uncomfortably silent. Zoya lies next to me, alive thankfully, as well as the rest of my squadmates, at least according to my HUD. I thumb my mic, "This is Vol," I hesitate and take in a breath to calm myself, "Please tell me y'all survived."

The mic immediately crackles on, "I hear you Vol," Khore's voice comes through, "We pulled up at the last second. Well done on the warning. Unfortunately, however, I am blind to the happenings of the surface. Any information will-"

Tyrh interrupts Khore, "Tyrh here," he sounds exhausted, light of breath and speaking soft. Khore silences himself out of courtesy. Tyrh continues, "I'm doing fine. Just a bit disoriented. Brok… he's alive, but injured. Heavily. He was standing near a window when the explosion went off, the glass shattered inwards, thrust through his shields like a blade, sheared armor and undersuit alike. We need to get him out of here if he is to survive."

Someone taps me on the arm. It's Zoya, she's slowly coming to her senses and tapped me to indicate her awareness. The line goes silent as everyone seems to wait for someone else to say something. I purse my mandibles and bite the bullet, "Zoya, regroup with Tyrh. Help Brok, make sure he doesn't die. Khore, come down and evac Brok. Standby afterwards."

Zoya nods, affirmative enough but still slow and disoriented, "Understood," she says.

"What do you plan to do?" Khore asks. My mind blanks for a moment, and as I check the comm link I realize that he has opened a private line to me. On my prolonged moment of silence he continues, "Or did you simply forget to mention yourself in your orders?"

He seems suddenly accusatory. If it's him actually suspecting something that he shouldn't know, or him simply just being annoyed with me I can't really tell. Either way as Zoya leaves the room I reply to him, "I'm going to hunt down the humans."

"You never did mention where they were. I thought you were fighting them," He responds.

I sigh to myself, "They used the explosion to escape, and are on the surface right now. They can't have gotten far, so I intend to catch them."

"And save all the glory for yourself?" He retorts back.

"Exactly," I deadpan.

He snorts. A half-step in between amusement and contempt and closes the line.

Because I'm not really in the mood to question him I step out of the airlock. The inner door has been pried open and left ajar, with just enough space to squeeze out without moving it. I open it all the way. The outer door is has been blasted inwards, metal shards poking in like jagged teeth. The platform outside is all kinds of twisted. Some parts reaching towards the stars in twisted liquid-like waves. The air is a dull hazy, turning opaque as you look out into the distance and tricking my mind into thinking that somehow everything has gotten a shade darker.

I jump down. There are footsteps, as I thought, with soles larger than my own, even in armor, and with dragged feet making the impression of three sets of lines traveling out in the haze.

I ignite my thruster pack and follow the tracks. They can't have gotten too far.

Eventually the tracks just end. Crowding around a circle, indented into the ground, and disappearing. I bend down on the ground and run my fingers along the edge of the circle, the dust brushes away to reveal metal. A manhole cover.

Just as my mind catches onto that, the dust around me blows into the air, pushed down by some invisible force and sent buffeting out. I gaze into the stars to see a phantom coming down low, the side door open and Khore hanging out, holding on with one hand. It swoops down and Khore jumps off, using his thruster pack to slow his descent and landing a few paces away from me.

"I thought you were going to save Brok," I question, opening a private line to him.

He comes to his feet and lightly jogs over to me, "I couldn't let you kill the humans by yourself. Knowing you, there is a high chance you'll get yourself killed."

"I couldn't trust Zoya to protect Brok," I lie in an attempt to get Khore to leave, "Your squad leader is injured, you're the best second in command. They need you more than I do."

He slows down and passes by me, "My loyalty to my squad is what brought me here in the first place," he bends down and inspects the manhole I've found, "They almost took the life of my squad leader, I will take theirs in turn."

With minimal effort he grabs the manhole and pulls it open. It's tight, barely enough space for each of us to fit in. "Take your honor, I don't care," Khore says while looking into the manhole, "I come for the pleasure in killing them myself." Before I can do anything else to stop him he jumps down the hole.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I huff to myself, quiet enough for my microphone not to pick up. I stare down the hole, I can see the bottom, Khore's already moved on. I jump in after him. There's two slide doors acting as a single-man sized airlock. I have to bend my head down to make it in all the way, letting the airlock pressurize around me in an industrial spray that could knock over a child. I open the second slide door coming into a room with just enough space to hold my head up all the way, Khore stepping through another door on the other end of the room as I come in.

"Each second you delay they get one step further," Khore says, his mind only half-focused on what he's saying.

I follow through the door, holding my head down once again to fit, "How do you even know where they went?"

We're in a single hallway, same height as the other room. Khore's already a distance down it, keeping himself just at a pace for me to keep up. He twists back around a moment, pointing towards the roof and the floor as he does so, "Look at the scratch marks, as well as surface particles being dragged inside. They performed a clumsy, slow retreat, it will be their last."

"Uh huh," I hum in response, catching up to Khore in the hallway just in time for it to branch into another. We follow the same marks as before. In the tunnels it's hard to ignore the paranoia of the fact that the asteroid I'm inside is hurtling towards a planet. I check the timer till it enters Vulcan's atmosphere. A little over 2 hours. "We don't have much time till impact. There would be no shame in leaving."

"You are incessant with your attempts to get me to leave," he replies. Matching his statement with an increase in pace, "Let me help ameliorate your thoughts, I won't leave until the humans are dead."

"Stay and you won't leave at all."

"Then I will die knowing I have claimed their lives."

I grit my mandibles, my jaw shaking in frustration, "You would really get yourself killed just to 'get back' at some random humans?"

"Yes," he spins back around again as he walks, backpedaling for a moment as he phrases his next question, "You're acting odd… more than usual. If I ask the reason why, will I get a coherent response?"

Of course the answer is that I want him gone so that I can try to talk to the humans. But I can't tell him that for obvious reasons, "I just," I pause, inhale and continue, "I just don't understand your reasoning."

"I want the humans dead."

"I get that, I don't get why."

He stops in place, and I almost run into him. He turns around, and I can see the grin despite his helmet. He leans in, and in a whisper that is barely transferred over the comms says, "Because I like the killing. These humans have been extradited from our gods will, if they are to die, than I shall do it as the gods order. And if I am to fulfill this duty I might as well enjoy it."

"That seems a bit of an extreme position to take, don't you think?"

"We are at war, extremities are already here."

"So you would rather surrender yourself to depravity?"

"You assume that is not the end for all of us," he speaks, his tone full of cynical mirth, "Only by our service to the gods can we absolve ourselves of sin."

"Do you even care?" I ask, elaborating on my point a moment later with a hushed addition, "If it was me dying, would you care?"

He glances at me for a moment and responds, "I grew up with Brok. I barely know you."

As much as I expect that answer, it rubs me the wrong way. Here I am fighting with someone who would let me die if it came to that for no more than religious fanaticism and cerebral bloodlust.

It's the same argument that I've batted heads with my entire life. Service to the gods vs I don't actually believe in your gods please don't kill me. Maybe it is the nature of living beings to get into petty disagreements, but if… when this problem becomes life or death. I need to guarantee I come out alive.

Khore speaks, a hushed silence that would have made sense if we had our helmets off, "We found the humans," he crawls up to another doorway, I can faintly hear the sounds of movement inside the room. To have heard that he must have been barely paying attention to our conversation, "Here is your glory, and here is my next kill."

He peeks inside while priming a plasma grenade in hand, "I'll let you do the honors."

This is the last chance to figure out any last second ways to avoid conflict. I can't think of anything reasonable that isn't too far fetched. Khore's sacrosanct bloodlust combined with our already existing conflict almost guarantees that this fight is gonna leave one of us dead. The mere thought of killing again pains me, but it's one that is becoming more and more familiar. But no matter how much it pains me, when my life is on the stake, I can't afford to make any more mistakes.

Fine, if they are going to die, I will have as little part in it as possible, "Lead the way," I tell Khore.

"Gladly," he steps around the corner, igniting his energy sword in one hand while wielding his plasma rifle on the other. There are two humans in the room, bent over and still wearing the bulky mining eva suits they likely used to get here. One of them is bent over, priming a device linked to explosives on the far side of the room, reaching to the ceiling and easily enough to blast a crater in the asteroid.

"-stay focused. One step at a time and we'll get out of this," the crouched one speaks, her voice projected via speakers on the suit.

The one leaning against the wall levels his assault rifle at us, "That will have to wait."

He fired.

Khore charges at him, some of the shots ricocheting off his shields and sending blue corona's of light across the room. He charges into the standing one, the human barely jumping back in time to be thrown backwards instead of run through with the energy sword. "Helena! Get out of here. I'll slow them down. Detonate the explosives when you are a safe distance away." On queue he tosses a cylindrical grenade at my feet, I duck to the side in time for my vision to go white and my hearing to be replaced with a high-pitched screech.

By the time my senses return the room is pitch-black in comparison and I can't hear anything. My eyes adjust in time for Helena to sprint past me, haphazardly firing shots with one arm as she runs away. My shields take some of the bullets and the wall behind me the rest. "Go! Let none escape," Khore speaks, his voice focused and exhausted as he speaks mid fight. A loud crash echoes from inside the storage room, some of the explosives being knocked off of the stack and onto the ground. "I haven't had a good kill like this in ages." he whispers with a predatory edge, "I must savor this."

Another glance at his fight alleviates my fears… in a way. He's toying with the human, constantly having the human push himself to avoid mortal wounds while keeping himself barely exhausted.

I let him do his thing and follow the trail of the other human. It's not hard to do, between me seeing where she went, the rather linear and long hallways, and the faint trace scent of gunpowder mixed with fatigue giving me many leads to follow.

I break out into a run and start following her.

Her trying to run away changes things a bit. I may no longer need to kill her, albeit if Khore stays distracted long enough. But that doesn't mean things are going perfectly, the explosives they set up are probably some other plan in how to fuck us up that I don't quite understand yet. If I don't stop her she might just detonate the explosives taking Khore out and possibly even me with them. If I don't catch up to them she might regroup with the rest of the escaping humans and cause even more problems. If Khore finishes then he will try to regroup with me and erase any chance I have of actually to parley with humans.

The motivation drives me to run just a bit faster. I round a corner and see motion far off in the hallway. She notices me as a burst of light flashes from the other end, followed by a salvo impacting on my shields. They drop a bit, but from the distance it's not enough to be concerning. Pushing through the fire, I sprint after her, catching up to her in a matter of moments.

I effectively just ram into her. Using my larger body size to push her over, grab her arms and hold her to the ground. The fight ends a moment later, with her held to the ground, kept in place by the combined weight of her armor and the grapple I have her in.

With her incapacitated I grab her left arm, hold it in the air and grab the remote detonator from her hand. With any serious threat eliminated for the time being, I let go with one hand, help her up, while keeping a plasma rifle aimed at her back and say, "I don't want to kill you," I keep my voice barely above a whisper, on the off chance Khore is approaching, "But I can't have you killing my squadmates."

She doesn't say anything. I don't blame her.

I slowly let go of her other hand and lower my plasma rifle, but keep it in my hand. She takes a few steps away from me, creating just enough space between us to give her a chance to retaliate if I were to attack.

"I'm sorry about your friends," I say trying to make some connection, only realizing a moment later how disingenuous it sounds, "Even if you don't believe me."

She still doesn't say anything. This isn't going anywhere.

"But," I continue after a hesitant breath, "If I let you do your own thing I would be forced to kill you. So… I ask this of you, how can we get to a point where we won't kill each other and some meaningful discussion will be made."

She doesn't respond and stands deathly still. If I didn't know better I could assume that she just froze solid in her armor. But logic tells me she's still alive and understanding what I say, so I simply stand still, waiting for a reply from her.

A moment later she speaks, "No."

I clench my hand with the plasma rifle in it, "I'm trying to-"

She speaks up again, this time interrupting me, "You don't understand. Kill me or let me go. I won't help you."

At this moment I curse my difference from my brethren. If I was anything like them I would simply kill her where she stands and be done with it, giving it no second thought. But the horrible thing called morality leaves me at a standstill.

But… I got her talking, and that's progress.

"You would let yourself die that easily?" I ask, "All this defiance. I'm trying to help, but I need you to reciprocate if we are to get anywhere."

She shifts, I can get the impression that she's glaring at me through her helmet, "I would rather die than help you."

I sigh, and go to retort only to be cut off by my comms. "Vol," Khore speaks. He sounds slightly exhausted, but still rushed from adrenaline, "I finished my mark. Where did you go."

I stare at my human captive from my peripheral, "Exit the storage room and take a left," I lie, "Head back where we came from. They may be trying to return to the surface."

"Under w-t circumstance would surfacing be beneficial t- them," he jokes. His voice gets more distorted as he talks, the mines suffocating any signal.

"You can ask them yourself."

"Hmph. I w-ll question their corpse," he snorts to himself and fiddles with something on the other end of the mic, "Underst-d. I will r-ndezv-s with you Vol. Make s-re to leave some for m-."

"No."

He chuckles to himself and cutts the communication. I turn back to the human, to continue our conversation…

Fuck.

She's gone.

I mean, I know where she is. But somehow in my conversation with Khore I forgot to make sure that she couldn't go anywhere. It only adds more complications, especially since I just did my best to get rid of Khore. I mean, she's not ambushing me, I can tell that much. But if I follow her I could be walking into a trap.

But there really isn't much I can do. By getting rid of Khore from the equation it now falls upon me to guarantee the humans won't be a problem.

So I follow the trail yet again. This time my steps are more careful, eyes darting from side-to-side as I try to make out any traps. Nothing.

I pick up my pace just a bit. At this rate the human is going to escape me by walking. The timer reads a little over an hour and half left.

I eventually catch up to her, her path leading her to a large open door into an underground hangar, the roof a hatch that is held closed by clamps. In the middle of the bay sits an old freighter, nothing more than an engine attached to a cargo storage, the name The Sobbing Noctambulist. In the doorway stands the same human, talking to another one, this one towering over her in comparison, wearing a heavy-duty mining suit with curved metal plates covering the whole thing. It almost looks like a rudimentary version of the spartan armor, albeit without a lot of tech that makes it effective in fights.

"I'll handle this," I get in time just enough to hear the gigantic armored human say this. The woman backs into the hangar as the armored human grabs a mining pick in one hand and stares me down.

My hand brushes to where my energy sword was, instinct driving my motions and disappointment countering them. "I was told you can speak. Good, I want you to hear this," The human levels the pickaxe at me, the head of the axe aiming directly at my chest, "Stand tall and fight, monster. You will get no further as long as I'm alive."

My other hand scratches against my plasma rifle. Self-control keeps me from drawing it but paranoia keeps it barely holstered. "If she told you that I talk then she should have also told you that I don't want you to fight."

"Ha! You expect me to believe your limpid lies? You die here, by my hand," he finishes. Seemingly not wanting to let me use my plasma rifle he charges me.

He swings wide, clumsy and throwing around weight he isn't used to. The pickaxe buries neck deep into the metal wall, shredding a hole in the wall and bending the tip of the axe. With a single hand he grabs the neck of the axe and wrenches it from the wall.

Even with the armor he's still outgunned. I push into him, grabbing the hand with the axe and wrestling it from his grip. He growls to himself and tries headbutting me, the impact disorienting me for a moment just enough to pull free from my grasp, albeit without his weapon.

He goes in for a punch that would be deadly if I weren't wearing armor. But I simply catch his punch in my hand, the sheer force pushing me back a step. With his arm in my hand I push him into the wall, holding his arm behind his back and the sheer bulk of the suit giving me more control over it than he does at the moment. "Are you ready to talk now?" I ask.

"You must think I'm an idiot!" he tries pushing back from the wall, getting to take a step back before I slam him into the wall again.

"Fine. Just listen to me god damn it," I take in a deep breath, "After this sentence I will let you go as a gesture of good faith, okay?" He doesn't respond, "All I want then is you to not attack me and listen. This is the last time I'm asking."

Nothing.

I take in another deep breath and back away, letting him go. He slowly turns around, nursing the arm that I held with his free one, but not attacking me. Progress. Still then, he doesn't say anything, waiting to see what I do next.

"My name's…" I start, trailing off a second later. If I tell him my name on the off chance that he gets interrogated then he can reveal my assistance, "You can call me Lazarus. See, I'm probably one of the few people that exist in the Covenant right now that doesn't like this war…"

"Why Lazarus?" he interrupts, on the cusp between legitimate curiosity and wanting to annoy me, "Or does the thought of dying frighten you?"

"Not anymore," I peek glance to my right, through the hangar doors and at the ship, "You're trying to escape right? You can go, I won't stop you. But my squad mates will be looking for you, the dropship included. Let me help you escape, so that I may do one good thing in this miserable war."

"You must think I'm a fool! Hah!" he barks, "I know you're just trying to find out where we are hiding. I won't let you. All of us are ready to die for our cause," he leans in a bit, "I think that you don't have the guts to kill us."

I growl, "Don't for a minute think that I would prioritize morality over my own safety. Do you really want to antagonize me?"

"Yes I…"

"No you don't" I cut him off, "I don't think you fully realize what's going on. I was at Blue Sky, I saw what happened, you heard it but don't understand it. This is a war of extermination. There is no negotiation, nothing. My people would enjoy nothing more than the extermination of everyone one of you."

He speaks, this time a tone lower, "You're assuming we don't have a plan."

He flinches just after he says that, obviously regretting saying anything. I hold up the detonator on my hands, "The explosives right? The ones linked to the detonator I have in my hand?"

He stands frozen for a second, slowly morphing into a miniscule nod as he replies to my question. In the time I've spent away from humans it's remarkably hard to decipher their expressions. I continue a moment later, "Listen, my squad is trying to reroute the engines. If need be you can stay here and wait out the conflict while our ships focus planetside."

"That won't work," he replies almost instantly, shaking his head slowly.

The sheer annoyance of the situation would have angered me if it weren't for the genuine immediate denial in his voice. "Why?" I ask.

He takes in a deep breath, "Because we blew up the engines as well. You think you're smart, but we're a step ahead of you. This here rock is on a one way trip to Vulcan, and nothing short of another asteroid will stop it."

My mind rushes trying to figure out what happens next. I go to radio my squad only to realize my distance underground makes it virtually impossible to get a signal to the surface. So that means… if we can't redirect the asteroid then, "We have even less time than I thought."

"'Scuse me?"

"We have a backup plan," I start, my mind running faster than my voice, "They- my squad. If we couldn't change the course of the asteroid, our next best plan is to blow it up. That means that there's an antimatter bomb somewhere on the asteroid primed to detonate. We need to get out of here now."

"They wouldn't detonate it while you are still here, right?"

"I don't want to take that chance."

I push past him and into the hangar. The two other humans next to the ship immediately line their weapons up to me, but the pickaxe wielding human behind me stops me from taking shots. The hangar seems to be made of thick metal, most likely titanium. I thumb my comms again but still no response.

"Open up the hangar," I demand, turning back to glance at the human I was talking to.

"So you can bring your friends here and kill us?" he questions back.

I growl and momentarily debate killing him on the spot just to send a message, "By the gods? Do you genuinely believe that I would spend all this time trying to talk only to trick you. Stop trying to cause problems and listen to what I say. Open. The. Hangar. Doors. Now."

He hesitates again, but glances past me, to the same slim angular faced man from earlier and slowly nods, "Do what he says."

The man slowly stands up from his spot next to the ship, leaves his gaze lingering on me for a solid several seconds, and then makes his way to another door with a visible stairwell likely leading up to the room overlooking the hangar. A moment later his form appears through the glass in the control room, he fiddles with a console next the window. The hangar doors stay closed for a second as an alarm blares throughout the hangar, "Warning! Decompression imminent. Any non-critical personnel is to leave the hangar immediately. Warning!"

The atmosphere in the hangar dissipates until the only sound I can hear is my own breath and the faint vibrations of movement. The hangar door then groans, a loud reverberating sound that reaches all the way down the hangar and into my suit. The doors remain closed for a moment, the mechanism chugging as it tries to open the doors. After a bit of persuasion, the hangar doors, like an elderly San'Shyuum trying to walk without his chair, opens.

I give the humans another look and ignite my thruster pack. With such minimal gravity I easily propel myself through the hangar doors and back to the surface. I stare off the horizon, the form of Vulcan bigger than the last time I was on the surface.

"Vol!" my comms ring. It's Khore, "We've been trying to contact you. Listen the plan to redirect the asteroid has failed, the humans blew up the engines. But we got everyone aboard the phantom, and we dropped off the bomb at the designated location. All we are doing now is waiting for you to respond. In the name of our gods please tell me you killed the humans and we can exit this wretched place."

"Where are you right now?" I ask.

Tyrh speaks, "On our way to retrieve you."

"And how's Brok?" I finish.

He inhales, loud enough for his microphone to pick up on, "Dying. Internal bleeding, several broken bones, and a slow shutting down of body processes. His armor administered necessary medication to keep him stable… for the time being. I don't know if to thank the gods for his life or wonder what he did to anger them."

My tongue sits heavy in my mouth, I gaze down into the hangar yet again to see the humans, doing something but still cautious towards me. I gaze into the horizon. My visor picks up on the dropship, the signal projecting an image across the surface on its path. I only have a couple of minutes before they get here.

I jump down into the hangar, nearly getting shot again. "I'm leaving. Once I exit, shut the hangar and wait for my departure. Then immediately leave, we have placed a bomb on the asteroid. Don't try to defuse it, you're just going to get yourself killed."

Once I finish we just look at each other for a moment. I honestly don't really know what I was expecting, I'm still effectively holding them hostage, to an extent, and my departure probably brings a lot of uncertainty in their mind. "I wish it could have been under better circumstances. I… You're hiding somewhere, I know that much, not on the planet obviously. But… maybe it's better, I just don't know. I will do what I can to cover for y'all. Maybe we'll meet again, maybe not."

"I fucking hope not," the big one responds. Grabbing a ladder on the cargo ship and hoisting himself into the compartment. The woman walks past me, looks at me one last time and follows him in. The last guy, the one who opened the hangar, walks up to me. His gait is short and stiff, and what comes out is even more so, "Stay careful," and as he does that he slides a device into my hand, "Short range communicator, should work within one AU.," he pauses realizing I shouldn't know what an AU is, "You'll figure it out." He gives me a tired look that tells of more exhaustion than just today, "If I just got all of us killed I'll end you myself. If not..." he lets out a sigh, "You aren't as safe as you think you are."

I hold it awkwardly in my hand, a bit too small to fit comfortably. I press the button on the side. Another of the same device lights up on his waist.

"Wait," I grab a plasma grenade from my waist "on the off chance you somehow get out of here, take this. It's a grenade, not primed of course," he doesn't grab it, tilting his head to the side cautiously.

"This war isn't going to end anytime soon," I explain, "It's better we close the technology gap sooner rather than later. Hopefully this will help." He gingerly grabs it in his hand, the device comically big in his hands. He nods and disappears into the craft.

My jump pack rockets me up to the surface. I use it a bit more to propel myself across the surface, heading in the direction of the incoming phantom. The time it takes between them appearing in the horizon and being right on top of me is barely a moment. The hatch in the side opens, my jump pack roars and I launch up. Grabbing the hatch with one hand and Zoya's arm with the other. She pulls me in with a heave that nearly rips my arm off, and I collapse in the phantom right next to Brok's inert form.

"Well done," Zoya deadpans, "It's almost as if my teachings had no impact."

I let out a sudden laugh. In all that has happened recently, having a sarcastic comment is a nice change of pace. "Love you too Zoya," I joke shutting her up for a second, "Let's get the fuck out of here."

"We should be clear from the blast radius now," the pilot echoes in the cabin, "In the event of an unlikely scenario I put an asteroid between us. Detonate when ready."

Khore holds a device in his hand. A long cylindrical shape that tapers off on the bottom end. We all watch in silence as he rolls it in his palm. "I feel like it would be disrespectful to the gods if I were to be the one to set it off."

"What?"

He holds it out to me, "You do it then."

I grab it, "Whatever," I walk into the helm, through the cockpit, past the asteroid, somewhere in the infinite black of space is the asteroid we were on. Without any more delay I press the detonator.

And then again.

Maybe it is my past overreliance upon action movies, but I kind of expected there to be a gigantic explosion followed by hurricane-like winds. But no, nothing. A half-a-minute later another star joins the sky, but that is the only thing evident of the explosion. In fact if I weren't looking for it I doubt I would even notice the change.

"Hmm," the pilot drones to himself. He turns back to me and seeing that I am here starts, "I'm getting an unidentified object departing from the remains. Barely visible on the shipboard hyperscanners."

"What do you think it is?" I ask, "We just blew it up, could it be particularly fast debris?"

The pilot refutes my statement, "Unlikely," he stares at some data rolling in on a screen, verifying whatever he says next, "It's heat-generating with a recordable exhaust plume. Automated drone perhaps?"

He looks at me for my response, "Can you track it?"

He tilts his head side to side before responding, "For the time being. If we return then chances are we will lose track of it," punctuating his statement with another glance past me towards Brok's prone form.

"Ignore it," I respond, "Whatever it is, it is of no threat to us."

"It may be humans."

"Then my previous point still stands."

"Hah," he drums his fingers on the controls, "Back to the Elegy then?"

I look to the stars, trying to spot out the explosion again, then to Brok's prone form, "Yeah, let's go…"

"Stop yourself," Khore shoves himself into the helm as well, taking up almost all of the little space left, "If the humans are escaping then shouldn't we hunt them down and eliminate them?"

"No-" I stare at him, "-We should get Brok to safety. We don't even know if there are any humans. Not to mention they barely even constitute a…"

"Yes they do," Khore interrupts me again, "The gods demand their deaths. Whatever it is, human or not, its continued existence is an affront.."

I look at the pilot who seems unsure of who to listen to here. "Listen," I stare at Khore in the eyes, "The humans, whatever it is, will die in time. Brok may not live to see another day, let's keep him alive then deal with this later. Okay?"

"Brok's life is in the hands of the gods," Khore stresses, "By offering the humans to the gods we may even corral favor from the gods and spare Brok's life. The device isn't heading back to the planet. There's something hiding out there."

I groan under my breath. I need to try a different argument tactic, "We act as proxy through the gods. That is why they command us to kill the humans instead of themselves. In that same vein, we must be as fit as we can to fight for them, including the integrity of our squad. I don't propose to abjure our faith, just realize where our priorities lie."

"Then you're a fool," he responds. At that moment we both realize that we can't convince each other.

Khore eyes Tyrh and Zoya from the side of his eyes. I do so as well. Zoya shrugs, "I didn't get a good fight. I want a rematch."

Tyrh focuses his gaze on me, "Vol has a point. We can always kill the humans another time, we can't revive Brok."

"Then we are at a stalemate," Khore presumes.

"Zoya," I turn my attention to her, "If you were in Brok's position…"

"I wouldn't be," she retorts.

"IF you were," I stress, "Would you want to trade your own life for that of a couple humans, or would you want your life to be saved."

She doesn't reply for a second, trying her best to maintain her anger and stoic demeanor. But it then cracks, her sighing and staring at her feet, slowly shaking her head, "Fine. You've made your point, I see your logic."

Khore stares at all of us and then the pilot who handily avoids his gaze. "I see I'm outvoted," he says in a low voice, "I won't argue. Do what you wish."

I look to the pilot, he nods in response. His response sends waves of relief through me. After all that had been going on, something finally went right. In what felt like a series of continuous failures, having something go well is a nice change of pace.

"Pardon me," the pilot says, grabbing my attention with a twist of his head to glance at me while he pilots the phantom, "If you are not busy of course."

My immediate instinct is to say no for no other reason than because I want to be lazy. But obligation keeps me from saying that, as I dully drawl, "What's up?"

He picks up slightly on my cadence, wincing as he replies, "Ah-h," he stammers, righting himself a moment later, "I've ferried many of us. A mission done well commends respect."

"Oh? And you're telling this to me, because?"

"You're in command now," He stops himself for a moment upon seeing my disorientation, "Or am I wrong?"

I shrug, "We never got that really figured out. Technically Khore is in charge now," I pair the phrase with a gesture towards the back of the cabin. On hearing what I said the pilot's hands freeze for a second, as he looks towards the back of the cabin with me.

"I wouldn't worry about that though," I placate the pilot, lowering my tone just a bit for what I say next, "He doesn't seem to care much for leadership. But if you are worried then just say it was my doing."

That seems to assuage the pilot's fears, "You were the ones to hunt down the remaining humans. Your word means more to me than his."

"Hmm," I hum in response, my mind caught on what he said. It's nice that he thinks I killed the rest of the humans, except I didn't, I did the exact opposite. It's a convenient lie, and I'm sure as hell never going to tell him the truth. I'm just worried that this may bite me in the ass later.

My thoughts are dashed as the titanic form of the Illuminite Elegy looms ahead in the cockpit, the silhouette obscuring part of the sun. "This is the dropship On Sacred Grounds, returning by the gods wishes. Requesting permission to dock…"

A scuffle on the other side of the line. A middle-aged unggoy's voice greets us, gasping and struggling to maintain breath and speak to us at the same time, "U-understood On Sacred Ground," a moment of pause filled with the audible sounds of a breath being taken, "Proceed to the port dock 1-4. W-we welcome your return with fervent faith and open arms."

"As we stand together in the Great Journey," the pilot responds, "Proceeding to dock 1-4."

"Understood On Sacred Grounds. C-closing the line."

"My apologies if I startled you there," the pilot says, "Sometimes the silence is preferred."

"I'm fine," I breath.

The pilot raps his fingers on the dashboard, "Glad to hear. We should be docked in just a-."

We both stop, staring at the same thing. A spear of light, from the surface of the planet Vulcan, just a moment ago pierced through the underbelly of the Elegy, spearing its way through and coming out the top. The pilot grabs the controls and halts the phantom, the inertia dampeners working to their max to keep us from splattering against the wall. Like a illuminate needle pierced through the heart of the Elegy, a purple corona of plasma arcs out the hole like blood that would follow. As her lifeblood ebbs, some of the lights, starting in the center and working out, slowly turn out and vanish into the space behind it.

My mind returns to what the human said, "You aren't as safe as you think you are." He knew. Whatever is happening.

"By the gods," Zoya's says from right behind me. At this point all functioning personnel in the phantom are in the helm watching the Elegy's slow death.

Tyrh squeezes his way and presses his face just up to the glass, "High velocity, hyper dense material. Punched all the way through, breached a pinch-fusion reactor," the breathes through his mandibles, hissing to himself as he does so, "The purple corona you see is a result of a breach of magnetic field... Of all that is holy. The reactor, it's overheating, running itself to death."

"Until it explodes?" I surmise.

Tyrh nods, "Unless the engineering team can fix it."

"Will they?"

"Maybe," he hesitates, "I'm not sure. The reactor is likely leaking out a lethal amount of radiation every moment. Not to mention the heat, and the dead personnel."

"So, no," I surmise yet again. He holds himself still, trying to find a reason to prove me wrong, but then nods.

"Correct," he looks down, his next words are barely audible, "Our best course of action is to head to the Horizon Focus or Lament of Sacrosanct Woes. When... If the Elegy's fusion reactor explodes then we want to be as far away and behind as much nanolaminite as possible."

The pilot looks at me, "Get us to whichever one is closer," I command.

He doesn't even turn the phantom on, just ignites the reverse engine and accelerates backward as we watch the slow bloodletting of the Elegy. By the time it's a speck in the distance, it's slowly starting to enter the atmosphere. A red aura emanating around it, as it heats up. And when it's no longer visible, barely a speck on a planet that itself is barely more than a marble. It explodes.

And then there were two more stars in the sky.

[1] - 1 Covenant Unit is ~= 1 foot

"Covenant Common"

"Radio Chatter"

"English"

So… this took a while. Without going into paragraphs of why, I was really busy and just didn't have time to write. Now, I'm still busy, but I have barely any time to write which is why I managed to get this out. Not only that, as expected with my exceptionally chaotic writing style this is the third fully written draft of this chapter. Each draft is over 10,000 words. Why can't my writing process ever be simple? As with most chapters I still don't quite like how this came out, but for the sake of not spending another month trying to finish this fucking abomination I'll just post it as is.

On the bright side I've been having a lot of fun with several games which have been getting my creativity up. Just because I can, I heavily recommend Devil May Cry 5, Underrail (hey hey people), Astral Chain, and Ori and the Will of the Wisps.

I know this happens every chapter, but we reached the 400 followers count! I honestly think I don't deserve this, especially after how long it took to get this chapter out, but I thank you all nonetheless. I promise I'll do my best to make this as good as I can.

P.S. There's a The Expanse reference in this chapter.

OST for this chapter is: 14.3 Billion Years - Andrew Prahlow (Outer Wilds)

See y'all next time.