Five Units before reaching Sanghelios

Overseeing the bridge as they travelled towards the Shield was unnecessary, but he did not have much else to do. Tired of managing the provisions and the number of Sangheili he was taking aboard his small Navy, he decided to instead sit and watch. Doing so, his communications Officer hailed him. He stood and approached.

"Speak, 'Dyuun. What is it?", he commanded.

His officer looked over his shoulder, still listening to the other officer that had begun the call.
"The humans have destroyed a Ring, Shipmaster. Thel Vadam is now the Arbiter. The Prophet's Guard has been replaced too", the officer informed his superior.

Set's mind was in overdrive now, his plans had to change. Drastically. If this was true, the rift between the Covenant and the Sangheili very well might have progressed quicker than he had assumed.

Doing the calculations in his mind, he made his decision. "Change course for Sanghelios. We are taking our people from their prison. Our hostages will be saved. Hail the other ships, and Sanghelios. We are moving the plans ahead of schedule". He paused for a moment, then he continued, "Give the order to prepare. When they board, we begin our reclamation of our species".

The officer listened and fulfilled his duty, before the Shipmaster could walk away, he spoke again: "Shipmaster, the Swift Vengeance and Unyielding Resolve are asking if we are gathering our people before or after we annihilate the Jiralhanae.".

The Shipmaster again thought before he spoke, " We will have to take the risk of fighting with them aboard. We will have to move quickly after we attack. We can not fail this mission", he said with finality.

Nodding, the officer relayed the orders. Set returned to his seat and began the process of his new stratagem. Knowing his armada would have to be quick in their assault and their departure. Jiralhanae were vicious, strong and durable. But in a ship to ship battle, their intellect was sorely lacking. Set was certain he could slice his enemies legs from beneath them and make it to the Shield unhindered. Now he had to keep the human on his side. And alive.

Battle of Sanghelios

As one, the various class ships launched their barrage on the Jiralhanae fleet above their homeworld. As Shipmaster, he knew the consequence of rebellion. His people would suffer here on Sanghelios, he had faith the small fleet of ships he would leave would protect their home as he pursued his goal. Set 'Rodamee had built his house from the ashes, he had worked every unit of his life for this moment. To free his people from the Prophet's brainwashing.

Plasma shot out from more than a dozen war class ships, the flagship of the Jiralhanae was unprepared, shields off and not ready for war. The Sangheili fleet on the other hand was more than ready for battle. Set had no qualms about this underhanded strike against such a vile species. Immediately, the Jiralhanae launched their counter-attack. With the head of their fleet gone, they fell into disarray, easy pickings for the combined efforts of the fleet twice its size.

"Raise the shields, have the Guard posted. Hail the Shipmasters! Our Great Journey begins now!", he roared.

Various yells and confirmations sounded in his head. Energized, he scanned the battlefield. Confident in the warriors he was leaving behind, he focussed on the force he was taking with him. Brand of the Faithful was overstocked on food, at maximum capacity for the huge number of families he was taking with. Most officers now had their young and wives on board. A reminder failure would cost them everything. If they failed… Sanghelios would join the human worlds he left in his path. To his ancestors he prayed to be led to victory. For his people.

Standing to his rear was both his daughter and the human. Latter of which had a plasma rifle on his hip, and to his surprise, an energy sword too.

Standing to his full height, he addressed the Spartan. "We are en route to the objective. Keep your weapons, the battle is won. Braxi, return him to his quarters".

Both nodded their assent and they retreated from the bridge. Gabriel was annoyed he was prepped for battle, but was not given the chance to fight. Space battles always bothered him. Besides covert ops, he was bred for close quarters combat.

Braxi beside him gave off a similar aura to him. Never give a warrior the thought of battle he mused. Despite all the new Sangheili aboard, the walkway was mostly deserted. Most of the recently reunited Sangheili families were most likely still settling in. Noble Six walked and his mind strayed to the logistics it took to keep such a massive ship running, and now at full capacity, he wondered how the Sangheili quartermasters could manage it all.

The ship entered slipspace, the tension slowly drained out of him and he felt more relaxed with every passing second. "Do they have training on these ships?", he asked his guard. Gabriel disliked the notion he had to be guarded, but an extra set of eyes never hurt.

Nodding, Braxi rendered her eyes towards him. "We have a few sparring rooms around, besides that, I have little idea what you will consider 'training'" she answered. All the while, Six was thinking he had to do something besides sitting on his ass waiting to be summoned by the Shipmaster. In his readings, it hadn't said anything about the customs surrounding sparring and sparring partners. He decided to ask anyway.

"Want to spar?", he asked again.

She in turn nodded and took a step ahead to lead him to her group's sparring room. She and her Zealots often sparred and fought, to keep certain their strength would not wane. Slowly, her excitement built at the idea of fighting the best humanity had ever produced. In turn, Gabriel had slight apprehension. He had witnessed her easily manage a much larger adversary in the form of her brother. That and her unwavering confidence. If it were hand to hand, he was certain she would not subdue him. As they reached the room, they walked by several males, who all stopped to salute their leader. In turn, Braxi nodded at each one in acknowledgement. When they entered the portal, two Zealots were sparring vigorously.

Are these people fucking crazy!? Those are active energy swords! Six thought in alarm. If this was sparring, Gabriel shook his head a his preconceptions. Of course the main fighting arm of the Covenant would train as dangerously as the Elites.

Face hidden within his scout helmet, he turned his face towards Braxi, who's mandibles were spread in what he assumed meant she was pleased. In Braxi's mind, seeing two her best fighting with such energetic movements meant they were still pushing themselves. Even if their old meaning found in the Covenant was lost, they were fulfilled in the greater quest of replacing both their species independence, but also in the journey of garnering glory and renown in the even larger fight to find all the artifacts that would locate the Library. There they hoped to find their lost histories. Lost legacies.

Not noticing their general observing them, they shared blows, the shrieking of plasma striking plasma resounding off in a musical rhythm. One two, three, pause, one two three pause, strike parry strike, dodge and lunge. Gabriel's eyes were riveted on their feet, seeing them pivot and almost hop at each other. He knew he was easily outclassed by these elite swordsmen.

Barely panting, they kept their dance going. Curiously, he eyed their crimson armor. Many of their brands of warrior were on Reach. He had first hand seen their unrelenting nature in combat. Marines were easy prey for skilled Sangheili like the two before him. Even an unsuspecting Spartan would easily fall to a group of Zealots, if alone or in a small group.

"What are their names?", he asked Braxi.

She kept her eyes glued to the spectacle, and leaned her weight towards him, "The one on the right is Soko. The other is Daga", she then eyed their stances. "Soko is stronger than Daga, but knowing Daga, he will outlast his enemy. That is how he is". Understanding the new situation, Six knew that Soko would have to go on an onslaught to win the spar, and Daga had to weather the storm.

As if an unsaid tipping point was reached, Soko parried his enemy's blade more forcefully than he had previously. Caught off guard, Daga's weight was unbalanced. Soko seeing this, pushed the advantage. His arm became a blur of plasma as he advanced, each step a vital inch as he closed the distance between himself and Daga. Daga was being overwhelmed, his sword barely quick enough to protect himself, despite his stamina, Soko was draining him.

Pivoting, Daga rounded on his enemy, facing from a forty five degree angle on his enemy, he slashed towards his shoulder. Soko was right handed, and as his enemy was on his left, he had no choice but to dodge. Instead of moving backwards, he advanced forward, retaining his momentum. Daga again was pushed back, even as Soko was quickly losing his speed. With one final mighty blow, he struck Daga's sword. It leapt out of his hand, as he had lost his grip after fending off what must have been close a hundred blows. Drained, he nodded towards Soko. "I yield", he said simply and as he turned to retrieve his weapon, he saw his general. Halting immediately, he placed his closed fist on his chest and bowed his head as salute. He noticed the Spartan beside her and said nothing. He held no hate towards the humans, he had seen their resolve time and time again. Seen them strive against unwinnable odds, and even sometimes managed to secure victories. Daga had great respect for the enemy that had halted the unrelenting force that was the Covenant. One that in comparison to the humans, was akin to an ant fighting off a spider hundreds its own size.

Soko too had no hate towards the human, but held no fondness for their underhanded tactics they often employed. Strategically, he recognized the sound logic in their style of warfare, as if they fought the same way his own species did, the chance of victory was substantially lowered. But seeing a demon beside his general put him ill at ease. Was that the reason she had been neglecting their sparring? To deal with a demon? It irked him.

Well trained, he did not let it show on his face. He too saluted and then studied the human before him. He had never seen a living Spartan before, only one corpse that was mutilated. Both the Sangheili turned their swords off with a noise of fire catching, in a higher pitch. Wondering why the odd pair was in the sparring room, his interest was piqued when he assumed they meant to utilise the room. He would be watching that intently.

Daga had a similar thought process, but executed it quicker. He approached his general, and offered the sparring sword. It was still plasma, but it was toned down to a temperature that would have difficulty slicing through their armor. Soko, seeing his partner hand off his, did the same. Approaching the Spartan, he kept his face blank, and handed it off without a word. The human nodded at him in thanks and the two entered the center of the room. In Gabriel's hand, the hilt was uncomfortable. It was too large, and there was a gap for the Sangheili's larger finger that was where his middle finger should have lain. With a flick, he turned it on and squared on his opponent, Braxi doing the same.

As both combatants lowered their stance and got comfortable, Braxi couldn't help but smile. She never felt more at ease than with a sword in hand. With a controlled deliberate breath, she lunged forward towards her enemy. Slashing high then low, pivoting on her toes and slashing from a different angle, she wore her enemy down. Certainly the Spartan was strong, but ill form countered the natural strength. Strategizing, she knew his hand didn't fit correctly, and so she attacked from odder angles to make his hand cramp.

Soon, her plan came to fruition as she witnessed him avoid more of her blows, and after dealing a flurry of blows, she launched his sword out of his grasp much like Soko did to Daga earlier. Without missing a beat, Gabriel caught her sword arm by the wrist and pushed forward. He tucked her arm into his armpit, the heat of the sword dangerously close. She attempted to punch with her off hand but Six kept his hand to his temple, ensuring no blow would land.

With lightning speed, he grabbed her free hand near her armpit, and launched her over his hip. Landing with a crash and the noise of air leaving her lungs forcefully he jumped onto her. Quickly disarming her, he threw the sword away, stood and again squared off her. He put his hands to his face and saw her do something similar. In this bout, he pressed the offensive, launching himself at his assailant, he threw jabs and haymaker, she easily blocked most of them until he had her properly distracted. When she lost focus, he grabbed by the forearm with both hands and pivoted around, launching her over himself and down on the ground. Her hands leapt at him and grabbed his arm. Tugging him down, she forced him into an arm bar he could not escape. Not understanding how he had lost his advantage so quickly, he tapped and when she strengthened the pressure on his arm, he yielded. "I yield", he said quickly. Releasing him, both stood up. The other two Sangheili had watched in great interest. Not surprised their general had bested the human.

"You fight well, human", came from Daga.

Soko decided not to add his two cents ,although he was entertained by the skillful spectacle he had the privilege of witnessing. Braxi was content in her victory, satisfied the Spartan had held his own to the very end. If she wasn't as resilient, she knew she would have hesitated after he had thrown her. Soko looked towards the pair, and ignoring the Spartan congratulated his general on another victory well fought.

Noble Six thanked Daga, and after recovering, approached Braxi. With a raise of her mandibles, she placed her hand on his shoulder. "For not having formal training, your swordsmanship is good. You could best many Sangheili with a sword", she complimented him. In the background, the two other males were uncomfortable at the display. Not often would one compliment another. Especially a human. Soko twitched in agitation. Daga was of a different mind, not caring over much as he did agree with his general; the human was skillful.

Spartan B-312 looked at her, nodded. "Thank you for not holding back. I wouldn't have learned as much if you did", he said sincerely.

Braxi again raised her mandibles in her equivalent of a smile, "I'm glad you have learned. We should spar again, "she proclaimed. Both Sangheili a small distance away from them again shifted their feet at the odd actions of their general but did not voice dissent or questions.

After regaining his breath, B-312 squared himself again, feet pointed towards Braxi again. He kept his hands low near his chin and tucked his elbows. Across from him, she did something similar. Shuffling closer, they began to circle each other. Throwing her weight low, Braxi let herself fall towards the ground and lunged upwards and grabbed the Spartan around the waist. She was seeking to throw him to the ground and then wrestle the smaller form into submission, as she lifted the man, he threw his upper body backwards and wrapped his legs around her arm. Curling one leg around her slender neck, he kept her arm tight in his stomach. Suddenly, her helmet buzzed and she realized she was getting hailed.

Her fathers voice resounded, "We have a situation. Fetch the Spartan, he is needed at the bridge". Braxi voiced her confirmation and even with Gabriel still holding her arm uncomfortably, she stood and he let go. Nodding at his victory, she gestured to the portal. "We are needed at the bridge", and together they departed. Leaving the two silent Sangheili. Raising their 'brows', they looked towards each other. Shrugging, Daga reclaimed his training sword and readied himself again. Soko did the same and resumed.

Rubbing her arm as they walked, the pair realized the ship was a flurry of activity, Sangheili going from place to place. Some females were carrying their young quickly back to their domiciles. Feeling the tension flooding the veins of the ship, they picked up their pace and quickly made it to the bridge. The view that greeted him made his breath hitch. Before him was his home. Earth. Covenant ships were engaging UNSC ships, the blasts of plasma nearly rendering the ship in two. Quickly scanning the battlefield, the Shipmaster didn't look towards Six, instead focussing himself and blocking the world out. Making his decision, he was going to end the Fleet of Sacred Consecration. Killing his own people ate at him, looking towards his communications officer, he commanded he hail the fleet before making his final decision.

"Ready the plasma, keep the shields at half power. We yet know if we are fighting ourselves", he said loudly with authority. His eyes narrowed and he eyed the human ships. Badly outnumbered, he knew his decision would have to be made with haste. Growing more and more impatient, he growled.

He eyed the back of his officer's head, "What is their response?", he demanded.

Swallowing, the officer turned to him. "They call us traitors, Shipmaster. They say you have aligned with the humans against the rest of our people".

"Were they Jiralhanae or our own people?", he asked.

His officer nodded his confirmation and returned to his duties.

Snarling at the short sightedness of his own people, and how easily they had been used, he made his final decision. "Contact the human ships, tell them we are here to fight with them", he yelled. 'Rodamee's fleet had many innocents in it, he knew. Failure would mean all their deaths. To lose even one ship would be a smudge on his pride as a Shipmaster.

"All cannons, center on the closest ships to the humans. Give them room to maneuver. Keep the heaviest laden ships in the back too". With that, he had a few seconds to face the Spartan. The fighting would be easiest, he knew. With the Spartan behind him, Set knew the negotiations and agreements could happen. It would be the most difficult part.

Trying to lower his intensity, he took a barely noticeable breath and motioned the Spartan and his daughter towards him.

When they got in comfortable speaking range he voiced his thoughts. "After the battle is won, the humans will speak with us, undoubtedly. I know you have not forgotten the debt you owe. I have younglings on my ships, I have elders. I have too much to risk now. If my fleet fights with your people, I request absolution and sanctuary for a duration", it bit at his pride to request such a thing from a different species. If he had to hurt his pride to keep his dependents safe, he would do it.

Gabriel was in no position of authority, but he nodded. "They won't like having your people there you know, not to mention for any long period", the Spartan informed the Shipmaster.

'Rodamee understood his odd situation, "The Covenant will be dispatched. I will see to that. I think it is time I tell you why I need you. On a forerunner planet, my ship discovered something that dwarfs the Covenant. Something we can not let exist", he explained.

His mind whirring at the prospect of something that would make the veteran Shipmaster sound nearly fearful made his heart beat. "What was it?", he asked.

"A parasite. It devours all life, adding it into itself. One ship was infected, and I shot it down into the planet. If even one spore of it lives, the universe itself will die. This little war of ours will not matter if it can exist. It will devour the universe itself. Leaving it barren", he solemnly spoke. "My species is my priority", he admitted. He continued, "But I can not leave such an evil to plague the future. Cooperation will be our savior. Of all of us".

Digesting the information, Gabriel knew he had a choice. The Shipmaster had made himself an alien to his own people. To save them, he had to betray them. At this revelation, Six didn't know what he would do if the UNSC gave him an ultimatum. He already looked like a traitor, just being alive on a Sangheili ship. Anxiety, as rare as it was for him, blossomed in his chest. Without realizing it, his head dipped. A hand placed itself on the heavy plating on his shoulder. It was Braxi. "Have faith, Spartan. Your people aren't as short sighted as you may think", she said to his welcome surprise. Her father eyed the place their connection was made. His mandibles shifted open slightly. Neither Braxi nor Gabriel noticed the slight change in the Shipmaster's mood.

A realization dawned on B-312. "You still haven't told me why you specifically need me", he said with a slight edge. He felt like he was being set up to be used. Shipmaster 'Rodamee was looking towards the battle playing out before him. The humans were regrouping after a handful of Corvettes were dispatched, their flaming hulls drooping and falling into Earth's atmosphere. He felt the weight add to his shoulders, then thought about the magnitude of death that would follow in the years to come. He steeled his resolve.

"For reasons beyond me, the Forerunners deemed it only humans were worthy of their technologies. Sangheili can not access much of their ruins. Only your kind. I can not have a feeble human on this journey. I have seen you kill hundreds, I know no human that can weather such a storm", he admitted. He disliked feeding the Spartan's ego. It was beneath him, he felt.

Six nodded, not wanting to confirm nor deny the Shipmaster. Eyeing the display before him, he looked for any opportunity to better the fight.

Making his decision, he sounded his command. "Reinforce the human's right flank. Tell the Shipmasters to align off of us. We will push them into a corner. Get the humans on the hologram too", he commanded.

As the officer relayed the commands to the other Shipmasters in the fleet, another beside him connected with the human channel, and projected on the display before the Shipmaster. Before the trio, a female appeared. Six did not recognize her, but she felt familiar. Cool faced, she stared at the three. Her eyes lingering on the Spartan, he saw a brief flash of surprise.

The lone human stepped forward, "Spartan B-312, Noble Six reporting, Ma'am", he announced.

She tilted her head slightly, "Noble Team was assigned to Reach, mind telling me how you ended up on a Covenant Supercruiser, alive to boot?", she demanded of the Spartan.

"It's a long story, Ma'am. Long story short, we have an ally now. This is Shipmaster 'Rodamee" he introduced the Sangheili leader.

Being announced, the Sangheili set his eyes firmly on the female. "We are moving the enemy into you, we shall smash them between us. Ready your ships, we must avoid receiving each other's fire", he informed the commander.

The human before him nodded, "We will, what are you planning to do afterwards?", she sought to find out.

Understanding the hint, the Shipmaster thought quickly. "After this battle, we will discuss what comes next. I have no intention of fighting twice today", he assured the human. With that, the communication was cut. And returning to the fight, he realized there was one section of the Covenant that was moving better than most the rest, it was a boulder in the stream. Looking towards his communications officer he commanded him to hail their flagship.

The Shipmaster eyed it, wondering if it was still led by his brethren. With the Great Schism unfolding all around him, he assumed it must have still been headed by Sangheili. The Jiralhanae in their brutish nature, were unfit for strategic battles that were often fought in the chasm of space.

Further analyzing how easily most of the ships were herded towards the UNSC ships, he determined that section as being the Jiralhanae. But one group of ships were not falling into the trap, instead, they held fast. They elegantly returned fire, and maneuver their ships in a way to minimize their damage. With a start, he realized his officer was calling him.

"Shipmaster, we are being hailed by our own!", he proclaimed.

Tilting his head, "Project him", he ordered.

Following his orders, his officer fulfilled the request. To the Shipmaster's surprise, the Sangheili before him was no other than Rhul Salmutee. Set had great respect for the strategist before him. Although now, he curbed it as it would not help his situation to appear servient to a potential enemy.

Standing at his full height, Rhul said "Shipmaster 'Rodamee. What have you done? The Prophets are killing our people, labeling the Supreme Commander Arbiter, giving our command to the Brutes. Now they come, to betray us".

"They have used us, Shipmaster Salmutee. All of us. I will end this slavery of our people. And save us from disaster. Are you against me?", he demanded of the elder Sangheili.

Snarling, the Shipmaster answered him, "We will kill many Jiralhanae on this day, I am with you", he said with resolve.

Pleased he had another dozen ships to add to his own, he felt even more confident in the chances of negotiations. He had to walk this narrow path in order to save his people. He had to.

With that, he watched as the remaining Sangheili ships turned their weapons away from the humans, and leveled them against their newfound enemy.

"Alert the humans, tell them not to fire on the ships heading our way. With the flagship gone, focus fire and eliminate their ships one by one", he told his officer.

In satisfaction, he watched as the combined might of his fleet and the few human ships annihilate the enemy. Jiralhanae were unfit for complicated maneuvers, quickly being routed and destroyed. Soon, he felt the battle would end. He would rest after, before meeting his human counterpart. Looking back, he beheld both the Spartan, and his daughter. Wishing to dismiss them from the bridge, he dismissed the idea, in case he needed the human for any communication with his command.

With one final pulse of plasma, the final Jiralhanae ship was melted into slag. Wearily, he sought out the casualties. Finding none, he allowed himself to feel pleased at the success, then turned to confront the Spartan. "We have much work yet to be done, I will have you with me when I meet the UNSC. Will you be staying aboard, or going back", he asked the last part lightly, as if the slight humor would dull the feeling of killing so many Sangheili. Not nearly as much as the Jiralhanae he had killed, but still far too many for his own taste. Again connected to the human channel, he organized a time to meet. Deciding how many to bring as his escort, he decided to settle on his personal group of Zealots, headed by his daughter. He would leave the command of the ship to his eldest son and leave behind his youngest.

Lost in his own thoughts, he nearly missed what the Spartan had said. "That is not solely my decision, 'Rodamee. Maybe I can convince them to aid us, if what you say is true, it should be easy enough", B-312 told him. The Shipmaster hummed slightly, then departed for his own chambers, he said his goodbyes and left the command to his officer on duty. Braxi stared hard at the human ships before her, thinking of various differences that could be found between the human ship and the Sangheili vessel.

Standing for a moment, Six also set his eyes on the familiar UNSC ships. He was hesitant to make his way back to them, shame filled him. Six Spartans. Four martyred, one missing, one with the enemy. It should have been me. I deserve it. Gabriel's thoughts swirled downwards, growing worse and worse each second. With his head angled at the floor beneath him, he turned and made his way towards his quarters; he couldn't look any Sangheili in the face. Every time he did, all he could see was the Sangheili posed above Emile. He saw the Marshal that ended Kat. The flash of purple dragged the Scarab to the forefront of his mind, each clang of his steel boots on the walkway the bang of the Pelican hitting the carapace. His breath hitched, and he couldn't control his breathing. The Spartan's eyes bulged and went wide, staring off into the unknown. Shaking, he tried to get himself under control, he tried to walk but his body disobeyed. Six was breaking. It should have been me. I couldn't change anything. It should have been me. It should have been me. Thoughts repeated, over and over again, each time the memory played again and again.

Braxi found him like that, approaching from behind, all she saw was him hunched over against the wall. Even through the armor, she saw him shivering. Wondering if he was ill, she braced him with a firm hand. "Are you unwell, Gabriel?", she asked softly.

He didn't respond, he kept his eyes cemented to the wall. Swallowing, he tried to speak.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine", he eventually got out weakly.

Unbelieving, Braxi stared at him. "I'll escort you", she said at length.

Shrugging off the four fingered hand, he stepped forward. "I'm fine. I'll make it. I don't need to be babysat", he tried to keep the edge out his voice, but he couldn't. All the piled stress hit him at once. Shame at his weakness hurt his ego, he walked off.

Braxi watched him go, mandibles clicking in annoyance. Males are the same, across species no less. Idiot will rather suffer than swallow his pride, she thought privately. Turning towards the dining area, she made off. Knowing the signs, she thought best to let him rest. In a few days, the entire structure of the war, and his life, had been altered. He was a stranger in an alien land.

Stumbling into his sleeping area, he removed his helmet. He sluggishly pried each piece of armor off. Warning signs flashed in his mind and he felt naked without his armor. Swallowing the unruly emotion, he forced it out. Laying his head on the odd bed, he let out a sigh and felt his chest tighten. Refusing to sob, he let his face slacken. Let the emotion drain out of him, and in turn, exhaust him. How am I reduced to this? He laughed at the thought. The divine comedy overwhelming him, he laughed and laughed until it mingled with choking crying. Everything came to the forefront, every misdeed, every mistake, every team member that had died. Why he was assigned as a headhunter… to keep him from killing his own teammates. He cried messily, as if he were a child again. With tears fresh on his face, he fell into fitful slumber. His last thought was he wished he wouldn't wake again.

Braxi made her dues, she found each of her Zealots and questioned their status. With her team up, and all their issues with their family housing and eating allowances finished, she was satisfied they were maintained for now. Thoughts drifted towards the human, she knew it would hit him eventually. War did that to every species, and she knew he had fought as hard as he could. For as long as he could. The fact he hadn't broken down yet filled her with an odd pride. I have my own to look after. She thought, Why am I focussed on a human? She pondered her own state of mind.

Sighing, she knew she would have to confront the Spartan warrior. Leaving one in that state upset her own mind, it didn't happen often within the Sangheili society, but she had seen great leaders fall to the trauma. It was an underestimated adversary she knew. Striding purposefully towards his chambers, as much as she brainstormed on what to even say, she reached his portal before she realized it.

Startled, her head jerked up as a scream rang out. It was bloodcurdling and made her skin itch. Unsheathing her energy sword, she stormed the room scanning for enemies quickly. Seeing the outer room, her long strides brought her quickly to the sleeping quarters. Baring her mandibles, she leapt into the room ready to kill. Again scanning the room, she found nothing. On the bed, the Spartan lay unarmored, thrashing and screaming even more, his teeth bared and his mouth wide open he continued to scream. Braxi quickly resheathed her sword and quickly approached him, alarm wide in her eyes. She leant above him and grabbed him by the shoulders, his eyes flew open, wild they didn't recognize her, he lashed out with a fist that caught her across her lower mandibles, the next one she caught easily. Halted, the madness left his eyes and his arm went limp. His chin shivering, he looked up at the Sangheili above him.

She swallowed, this unknown situation perplexing her. "Are you ok?", she asked softly as if he would fracture at any point.

Instead of answering, his arms latched onto her, he buried his face into her chest armor and tried to hide his face from the world. Surprised, she tilted her head towards him and tentatively held her own arms around his smaller frame. It felt… nice.

Rarely had she been touched, usually it was being struck. Even rarer was the odd male who was unwise enough to test her boundaries. With the human, it felt different. She didn't mind. Through his steel muscles, she felt the fibers twitch less and less, his breathing evened out and she almost believed he had fallen asleep. Unlatching the hold slightly, his grip redoubled.

Gabriel spoke then, in a voice so soft she almost didn't hear it. "Please… don't go. Not like the rest. Please, please", he begged, as if he would crumble into dust if she went.

Wrapping her long neck around his unarmored head, his hair tickling her mandibles, she got more comfortable. He was warm, and even though she knew her armor was undoubtedly uncomfortable to him, he kept as close to her as possible.

Such close proximity was alien to Gabriel, yet an instinct from long ago overrode any hesitance. Eyes feeling heavier and heavier, and the heat source hugging him close, he felt the weight drain from his shoulders. A guard he never dropped, that he couldn't drop, eased. With the tiredness of a young child, he drifted off. Still clutching the lifeline he needed so desperately.

After a few minutes and various rearrangements, Braxi got more comfortable. A warmth resided in her chest, and without her realizing it, she emitted a purr. A memory surged from when she was a youngling, before she ever began training. Before the world was nothing but warfare. Of her own mother holding her, purring. She nuzzled into the fur on the human's head, scratching at the crown with her mandibles softly. Just like her own mother did her ages ago. Soon, her own eyes grew heavier, and removed her chest armor to better feel the warmth radiating from her newfound heater. Before she succumbed to sleep, a final thought ran through her mind. Of how profound it felt to see this side of such a gifted fighter, one she knew was most definitely on par with the best Sangheili. She hadn't realized how tired she was, from pulling extra guard duties over the course of weeks, to training hard and keeping pace with her team, she was due some rest.

For the first time in years, he dreamt. Most nights, it was nightmares he would forget by morning. This felt different to him, it felt peaceful. With warmth in his heart, he beheld endless fields of wheat, the smell of rich soil in his nostrils. He felt a hand within his, the heat of the sun on his face. He closed his eyes and let it fade. Visions of his time with Noble Team, as short as they were, came to him. This time, he didn't feel sadness, he felt a sense they would understand. Each face came to him, each of their voices sounded in his ears. In the first time in his memory, he felt as if things would work out. For the first time in a long while, he felt his faith returning to him.

So he slept.