Yet another sickeningly short chapter, considering how much time it's been since the last update. Though part of it may be that I kinda took a week off from writing this after the last chapter. I dunno, I felt like I deserved a mini-break after the end of that story arc. Also doesn't help that I'm still easily distracted by-
Ooooh! Wowcrendor posted a new video!
….
0612 Hours, March 12th, 2683
SSV Normandy
Undisclosed Location in the Forerunner Cluster
….
John stood before the door that lead out of his quarters. He was naked. 'Naked' being the Spartan term for a Spartan not wearing his armor. He set his jaw as his finger twitched. "Something wrong?" Cortana asked.
"You know what's wrong." John accused in reply. He knew the AI's teasing tone when he heard it.
"Oh come on, we're not even actually back in the traverse yet, so we're at minimal risk of getting boarded by pirates." Cortana argued. "You can last one day on the ship without your armor."
He glanced at the MJOLNIR armor. It sat in neatly arranged pieces in the corner of the room by the bed. The helmet, boots, chest and back plates were in the middle, the gauntlets and complimenting finger coverings off to the side. The nano composite bodysuit was neatly folded into a small square that sat next to the helmet. "But it's new…." he said.
"I don't care. You can play with it later." Cortana scolded. "Now go play with your new friends while Mommy watches her stories." And with that, her avatar disappeared into the Chief's PC, no doubt to comb the extranet to sate her hunger for new data. John rolled his eyes and continued eyeing the door.
Today would be the first day he would be seen without his armor by most of the crew. He didn't really know why he was doing this. Cortana's nagging certainly had something to do with it, and to be fair she was right in that the risk of pirate attack was minimal in this part of the galaxy. But she made those excuses before, and they didn't convince him then. What made now any different?
When the fire and the explosions and the death stops, and you instead find yourself in the warm company of these other hearts, lower your guard. Let them bond with you.
Just before they left Reach, Chief explicitly gave his team permission to call him John. He did it because he realized that they had followed him and fought with him enough to have earned that privilege. They were a team. His team. Perhaps he wanted to try going out into the ship unarmored for much the same reason. His team and his crew had earned the right to see his face, to see him lower his guard. Taking a deep breath, he keyed the door open and stepped out.
Chief looked around the mess hall as he stepped out of his quarters. The only people there were three crew members sitting at a table eating breakfast. The Spartan walked over to the vending machine and prepared two cups of coffee.
"Master Chief?" he heard someone ask. John turned around and saw the three crewmen at the table looking at him.
"Yes?" he asked.
"….How come you're not wearing your armor?" the crewmen, a man with a shaved head, asked.
"Didn't think I'd need it today." he replied.
"…..Huh." the crewmen simply said before slowly turning back to his two compatriots. They simply shrugged in bewilderment. After that awkward moment, the Spartan grabbed the cups and began making his way up the winding staircase to deck one. When the door opened, the marine standing guard saluted.
"At ease." he said as he walked by. He walked over to the cockpit to find Joker, in the pilot's seat as always. He set one of the cups down by one of the control panels. Joker looked up at John.
"Breakfast in bed?" he asked.
"Peace offering." Chief elaborated as he sat down in the chair on Joker's right, setting his own coffee on the control panel by him. "I'm sorry about offending you last time we talked."
"Meh. I'm over it." Joker said as he downed a sip of the coffee. "Though there is something I've been meaning to talk to you about since Feros."
"And that is?" John asked.
"Next time we touch down, let's try not to park the ship in a colony of mutant zombies." Joker said. "Just thinking out loud here."
John rolled his eyes. "Always with the jokes." he noted. "But I guess that's why they call you Joker."
"Hey, it's a lot shorter than saying 'Alliance Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau.' Plus I love to make little children laugh." Joker replied.
That was when the Chief's instincts kicked in again. He suddenly got the feeling that there was more to the nickname than that. "Just out of curiosity, why do they really call you Joker?"
Joker paused as he raised an eyebrow. "You really wanna know?" he asked. The Spartan nodded. The pilot then sighed. "I didn't pick the name." he admitted. "One of the instructors in flight school used to bug me about never smiling. She started calling me Joker…."
He paused to flash John a wide grin. "And it stuck." he finished with a scowl.
"You? Never smiling?" John asked. He was surprised. Every time he saw Joker, the pilot was always wearing a cocky smirk on his face. By now, it was hard to imagine him with any other kind of expression.
"Hey, I worked my ass off in flight school, Chief." Joker replied. "The world's not gonna hand you anything if you go around grinning like an idiot. You of all people should know that."
"Me?" John asked.
"Yeah. You never smile either, do you?" Joker accused. He paused. "Course, no one ever sees your face at all cuz you wear that helmet all the time, so maybe you have been grinning like an idiot. Hell, you could've been making faces at people you don't like this whole time for all I know. I know it's what I'd do if I was always wearing a helmet with a one-way visor."
He snapped his fingers. "Holy crap, you're not wearing your armor! That's what's so different about you this morning! That's been bugging me since you came up here."
John raised an eyebrow. He detected more than a little sarcasm just then. "Anyway, by the end of the year, I was the best pilot in the academy. Even better than the instructors and everybody knew it. They all got their asses kicked by the sickly kid with the creaky little legs."
He put his signature smirk back on. "One guess who was smiling at graduation." he finished.
John smiled and nodded. He could relate. When his Spartan training was finally complete, he was proud. Both of himself and of his teammates. Looking back, though he had no specific memory of doing so, he probably smiled just like Joker did.
"So, what's on your schedule today?" Joker asked. "I doubt you plan on staying up here all day cuz, let me tell you right now, the view's not that great."
Chief looked out through the small window above him. As Joker said, there was nothing beyond it except the inky blackness of space, dotted by the occasional far off star. "I'm just waiting until oh-seven-four-five hours." he replied.
"What's going on at quarter to eight?" Joker asked.
"Special meeting with the combat team I've scheduled to take place in the comm room." Chief said.
"Special meeting?" Joker asked. "What have you got planned? A team-bonding seminar with trust fall exercises?"
"Something like that." John cryptically answered.
…..
By the time the clock struck 0745 hours, the Chief's combat team had all begun their shifts. Therefore, it was the ideal time for the meeting. John didn't want this hanging over his head all day, so he wanted to have the meeting as soon as possible.
After using the ship's intercom to summon the combat team to the comm / briefing room, he waited there for them. Kaidan, Liara and N'tho were the first ones to arrive as they took their respective seats. Garrus, Wrex, Tali and Ashley arrived soon after to take their own seats.
"Alright people. I've got an announcement to make." John began. "Last night, I reviewed all past mission reports as part of an evaluation of our mission performance thus far. On retrospective analysis, I've concluded that I need to make a few changes. First off, N'tho."
The Sangheili sat up a little straighter in his chair. "I originally gave you the role of close-quarters combat specialist, basically putting you in charge of heavy weapons and diversion tactics. However, that role will no longer be suitable for you for two reasons. One, you lost our only plasma minigun on Eletania."
"For the record, that was not my fault." N'tho defended himself. "Some Asari Commando hit my gun with a biotic warp."
"Two, after reviewing your mission performance, I've realized that your initial role was not one that took full advantage of your talents." John went on. "From what I've seen and from what Cortana has analyzed, you seem to be more of a runner than a gunner."
"Well, I am kinda fast." N'tho said as he stretched out his legs, twirling his hooves at the ankle. "I guess."
"Combine that with the fact that your hardsuit is the only one with active camouflage built in, and you would actually make an effective scout and runner." John continued. "Basically, you're the new team rabbit."
"Cool." N'tho said with a nod.
"The hell's a rabbit?" Wrex asked.
"Oh, it's a small fast mammal native to Earth." N'tho replied.
"Predator?" Wrex probed further.
"Nope. Usually prey. More often than not, rabbits are running away from something." N'tho explained. Wrex paused. Then gave him a wide grin. "….What? Stop looking at me like that. It's creeping me out."
"Next order of business." John said as he whipped out a datapad. "A package arrived from ONI a couple of days ago, one filled with several different kinds of heavy weapons."
"Scuttlebutt says that package didn't come from ONI." Ashley pointed out. "Sir." she added.
"Scuttlebutt says a lot of things, Ash." John dismissed.
"I'm sorry, but I thought we had moved past the 'keep secrets from the crew' phase." Garrus commented.
John looked up from his datapad and glared at the Turian. "…..Alright. The package didn't come from ONI at all. I don't know who it came from. All I know is that whoever sent it has enough access to technology and resources to build a custom set of upgraded MJOLNIR armor and smuggled it past Alliance customs. Does that make you feel better?"
"….Not really." Garrus admitted. "I'm actually kind of worried now."
"And that's why I didn't want to tell you about it." John said.
"Is it bugged?" Kaidan asked.
"Or rigged to blow?" Wrex asked.
"No and no, at least as far as we can tell." John said. "Cortana scanned the contents of the crate beforehand and nothing of note happened as we moved the items from the crate to the armory lockers."
"I still don't like it." Wrex said with a shake of his head. "No one gives you free guns without a catch."
"For the record Wrex, I agree with you. The circumstances surrounding the delivery are definitely suspicious." John said. "However, since heavy weapons are hard to come by, I've decided to not look at this gift horse in the mouth. For now, we can only assume that the 'catch' is that we'll be expected to use the weapons against Saren and that whoever sent them stands to gain from Saren's defeat."
"Sounds legit." N'tho said with a nod.
"Moving on. The first weapon is an asymmetric recoilless carbine-930." John began.
"Dibs on the railgun." Wrex claimed.
"I was going to issue it to you anyway, Wrex." John said. "With the destruction of your custom sniper rifle on Reach, you need a new long range weapon, and the ARC-930 should be an ideal replacement for you."
"…..I still call dibs." Wrex said. He looked around the comm room. "That means if anyone besides me touches it, I'm taking somebody's hand."
"Moving on." John resumed. "Ashley, you get the squad automatic weapon."
"The SAW?" Ashley asked.
"Yup. It's all yours." John replied.
"…..Thank you." Ashley whispered.
"Next off we have an M374 remote projectile detonator. Kaidan, I'll give it to you." John said.
"You sure?" Kaidan asked.
"You're a disciplined and methodical soldier, Kaidan. I can trust you with an explosive launcher." John assured. "Finally, we have a type-52 guided munitions launcher. Garrus. I think this one's yours."
"I don't know." the Turian replied as he scratched a plate. "Heavy weapons like that aren't really my forte'."
"It's long-distance weaponry, which does seem to be your forte'." John pointed out. "You can use it on more heavily armored targets and you can use your sniper rifle on anything else."
Garrus paused in thought, then nodded. "Fair enough." he conceded.
"Uh, do I get a really cool new weapon?" N'tho asked as he raised his hand.
"No." John said. "You're our new scout, remember? Your new job requires you to travel light on the field. And there's a reason they call it heavy weaponry. Additionally, five weapon types were all the package had, so I couldn't really issue you another weapon even if I wanted to."
N'tho paused and raised an eyebrow. "Five weapon types?" he asked. "You only mentioned four. What's the fifth one?"
"An M6 Grindell / Galilean Nonlinear Rifle." John answered.
"….."
"No, N'tho. You can't have it."
"I wasn't even gonna ask!" N'tho protested.
"But you were thinking of asking." John stated. "In any case, I'll be keeping it in the armory on deck three. Due to the weapon's potential for large-scale destruction, it will only be used when circumstances make its use necessary."
"In that case, won't be too long until we whip it out." Wrex commented. "Not a week goes by where we don't bump into somebody that wants to kill us."
"One last matter before I conclude this meeting." the Chief said. "This team needs an official designation."
"Designation?" Kaidan asked. "What, you mean a team name?"
"Well as you all made clear yesterday, none of you plan on leaving anytime soon." Chief explained. "We're already a combat team in everything but name, so I might as well give you all a name. It may also improve unit cohesion, having an actual name to rally around."
"Okay, so what will be our new team name?" Ashley asked.
"Blue Team." John replied. Ashley, Kaidan and N'tho were stunned silent for a moment.
"I don't get it." Wrex asked. "You're naming us after a color? And not even a good one?"
"Blue Team was the name of Chief's old team of Spartans." Ashley explained. She turned to the Chief. "Is the Alliance really giving us that name?"
"No. I'm giving you that name." Chief said. "I'm technically violating Alliance protocol by choosing a name myself rather than waiting on the Alliance to give this team its official designation, but as a Spectre I can get away with that sort of thing."
"So you are naming us after your old comrades." Liara observed. "Why?"
"….Because you've all earned it." Chief replied.
"I dunno." Kaidan confessed. "Spartan-087, 058, 104, 034….You're giving us some real big shoes to fill, Chief. You sure we can fill them?"
"You've filled them well enough so far." Chief said. "Therum, Sharjila, Trebin, Feros, Eletania, time and time again you've all proved your metal in battle. Time and time again you all helped me. I can't say for certain where I'd be right now without all of you."
"You'd have still won all those battles, FYI." N'tho said. "Just, you know, not as quickly. Strength in numbers, and all that."
"Exactly." John nodded. "You all helped me do things that I could have never done on my own. Trust me, you've all earned this. Now then."
He pointed to himself. "Blue-One."
He pointed to Kaidan. "Blue-Two."
He pointed to Ashley. "Blue-Three."
Garrus. "Blue-Four."
Wrex. "Blue-Five."
Tali. "Blue-Six."
Liara. "Blue-Seven."
N'tho. "Blue-Eight. Questions?"
Liara raised a hand. "Do I have to be Blue-Seven?" she shyly asked.
"What's the problem?" Chief asked.
"Well…..I know I shouldn't believe this. After all, as a scientist, I should be above such superstitions but…..Seven is considered a very unlucky number among my people." Liara explained.
"Funny." Kaidan said. "Seven is actually considered a very lucky number among Humans. Maybe the fact that you're on a Human ship with a Human crew will mean that Human luck rules will apply?"
"Perhaps." Liara replied, still sounding unsure.
"While we're on the subject of lucky numbers, can I be Blue-Four?" Wrex asked. "Four's lucky on Tuchanka."
"Well, four's unlucky on Palaven, so if Wrex wants my number, he can have it." Garrus replied.
"Enough." Chief firmly stated. "Your numbers are your numbers and that's final. Anything else?"
An awkward silence hung in the air. Tali raised her hand. "Just letting you know that six is lucky on the flotilla, so I'm perfectly fine with my number."
John pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know, the old Blue Team wouldn't be arguing over something like this."
"Well, we're the new Blue Team." Garrus commented. "We're the next generation."
"Then I weep for the next generation." John remarked. "I'll file your new official team name and number designations. Meeting adjourned, Blue Team dismissed."
….
After the meeting was over, John headed back down to his quarters to file the new team name and individual designations. Once he was done with that, he took his morning shower and then ate a proper breakfast in his quarters.
When he came back to the mess hall to hand in his empty tray, he spied N'tho sitting alone at the mess's lone dining table. He was alternating between munching on a breakfast burrito of some kind and tapping away on his omni-tool. John took a deep breath as he placed his tray by the serving area. He knew what he had to do. He walked over to the table and sat across from N'tho, squinting as his eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the bright amber light over the table.
"Huh?" N'tho looked up from his omni-tool and saw the Chief in front of him. "Oh. Hey Chief. You havin' breakfast?"
"Already had breakfast." John replied. "I feel like I owe you an apology."
"For what?" N'tho asked.
"For what I said on Eletania." John said. "I was stressed, you were working my-"
"Last nerve and I wound up being the unlucky verbal punching bag of thirty years worth of wartime xenophobia." N'tho finished the Spartan's statement for him.
"…Yeah." John replied. "Sorry."
N'tho waved it off with his omni-tool hand. "Don't worry about it." N'tho replied. "I was pissed at first, but then Liara and Ashley told me about how stressed you've been." John opened his mouth. "They didn't say too much, I didn't wanna pry into your personal life behind your back." N'tho assured. "They just told me that you did a lot of soul-searching on Reach. I realized how difficult it must be for you to live in the 27th Century. Especially with me on your team. Mostly because I just crack wise whereas my great uncle probably called you demon and tried to shiv you with an energy sword at some point or other. Bit of a jarring shift in tone, I imagine."
"Little bit, yeah." John admitted. He paused as N'tho finished his burrito. "So, we're cool?"
"We're cool." N'tho replied after swallowing and then going back to his omni-tool.
"Huh. Thought you'd be more resentful than that." Chief confessed.
"I'm not really the grudge-holding type." N'tho replied with a shrug.
The two sat in awkward silence for a little while after that. With his burrito finished, N'tho went back to focusing intently on whatever it was he was doing on his omni-tool. "So, what are you doing there?" John asked.
"Just working on a rhetorical analysis of the writings of Matriarch Dilinaga." N'tho replied.
"Who?" John asked. N'tho looked up from his work at the Spartan at that.
"Matriarch Dilinaga?" N'tho asked. "One of the twenty-two Missing Matriarchs? The only one whose body was ever found?"
"Never heard of her." John honestly replied.
"Yeesh, have you been living under a rock?" N'tho asked.
"No, but I was frozen for over a century." John pointed out.
"….Oh." N'tho replied. "Right. Still a bunch of stuff you probably don't know. Kinda forgot that." He scratched the back of his neck for a moment. "Well, her story is kind of a long one."
"I don't really have anything better to do today." John replied with a shrug.
"Okay then." N'tho said. "It all started when the Asari first began colonizing other worlds. It was a golden age of learning and advancement, not only technologically but culturally as well. It was at this period that a lot of Asari matriarchs started to become obsessed with achieving 'ultimate knowledge.'"
"Ultimate knowledge?" John asked.
"Oh you know. The usual stuff they were looking for." N'tho explained. "'Why are we here?' 'What is our purpose?' 'What's the meaning of life?' Etcetera and so on. Every race asked itself those questions at one point or another, but the Asari have the distinction of being one of the few races to actually try to seek out those answers outside of a philosophy discussion. Twenty-eight matriarchs left Thessia with no destination in mind and no plan to return. Only six were ever heard from again. The rest of them, for all intents and purposes, disappeared from the face of the galaxy."
"Well, that's what happens when you go exploring uncharted territory without a real plan." Chief mused. "Dilinaga was the only one they found?"
"Right." N'tho replied with a nod. "Of the twenty-two matriarchs, or the Missing Matriarchs as they are commonly known, Dilinaga was the only one whose body was actually found, along with several journal entries that she wrote during her journey."
"What did she write about?" Chief asked.
"The journey itself, mostly. The places she went to and the creatures she met." N'tho replied with a shrug. "Historians, anthropologists, philosophers, theologians, everyone was reading her journals when they were brought back to the Asari homeworld Thessia. There were all kinds of discussions surrounding the significance of the journals."
"Significance?" Chief asked. "They were travel journals. Dilinaga traveled across the galaxy and recorded what she saw. What's there to discuss?"
"To the Asari? Everything." N'tho replied with a smirk. "There are at least half a dozen theories floating around about the meaning behind the journals. Some say that it highlights all the wonders of the galaxy, and by proxy, the universe. Others see it as a confirmation of Siarism, the mainstream Asari religion next to Athamism. See, Asari are generally artsy types that like talking philosophy for hours on end. They have a weird habit of seeing meaning where other species don't."
With that, he went back to typing on his omni-tool. "Anyway, I'm writing my own rhetorical analysis of Dilinaga's writings. Figured I could give it a shot."
"You seem to know a lot about Asari culture." John noted. "Thought Human culture was more your expertise."
"It is." N'tho replied. "Don't get me wrong, I love Human culture as much as the next Squidhead. But I know there's more to the galaxy than just Earth. Becoming a part of the Squidhead movement way back when made me realize that there was a whole galaxy of life beyond the skies of 'Sraom. Dozens of species and hundreds of worlds, all with their own unique cultures, attitudes and philosophies. It's why I minored in xeno-cultural studies back in college."
"So you're fascinated by all non-Sangheili cultures?" John asked. "Not just Humans?"
"That's right." N'tho said with a nod. "Though granted, some cultures fascinate me more than others. For instance, I would not recommend reading a Volus-written novel unless you're suffering from insomnia. Hard to stay awake through all that math. And before you ask, yes, algebraic equations are surprisingly common in Volus literature. Guess that's what happens when accounting is your race's biggest strength."
"Hey." said a voice. N'tho and the Chief looked up to see Kaidan holding a tray full of food. He turned to the Sangheili. "This seat taken?"
"Sure thing." N'tho said as he scooched over. Kaidan nodded his thanks and sat down. On his tray was a breakfast burrito, scrambled eggs, bacon, a bowl of cereal, a cup of milk and a cup of orange juice.
"Lot of food you have there, Lieutenant." Chief observed.
Kaidan shrugged. "One of the downsides of being a biotic: high metabolism. Throwing things around with dark energy takes a lot of calories, so I have to eat more than the average Human to be at my best."
With that, he grabbed a strip of bacon and started eating it. "I can vouch that." N'tho added as he nodded to the lieutenant. "This is actually his second breakfast. Dude eats like a hobbit."
"A what?" John asked.
"Hobbit." N'tho replied. "You know? Bilbo Baggins? J.R.R. Tolkien?" John just gave him a blank look. "You've never read The Hobbit?"
"No." John said.
N'tho paused. He then began tapping furiously on his omni-tool. "What are you doing?" the Chief asked.
"Buying you a digital copy of The Hobbit and downloading it to an OSD for you." N'tho answered. "You can thank me later."
John rolled his eyes. "In N'tho's defense, it is a good book." Kaidan noted. "So, what were you guys talking about before I came along?" he asked before beginning to eat another bacon strip.
"I suppose we were talking about N'tho's interests." John replied as he placed his hand back down. "Apparently, he's not just fascinated by Human culture."
"That a fact?" Kaidan asked after a gulp.
"Yeah." N'tho replied as he continued tapping away on his omni-tool. "Like I told the Chief, I minored in xeno-cultural studies in college. That's where I first learned about the Squidhead movement and fell in love with it. My first thesis was about the impact that Human music had on Sangheili society, specifically rock and roll. Youthful Sangheili loved it, but the elder generations-"
"Let me guess." Kaidan interrupted. "The elders disapproved of the youth's interest in rock and roll because they accused it of sparking a hedonistic lifestyle fueled by sex and drugs?"
"Eeeyup." N'tho replied.
"Huh. Funny how history repeats itself." Kaidan mused.
"I listened to a lot of rock music from the 20th century as part of my research. Elvis Presley, Motley Crue, Black Sabbath, the Meteors, that was when the genre was truly codified." N'tho went on. "Still got a few of those songs on my omni-tool."
"I figured that back on Eletania." John replied.
"After that, I started researching the cultures of other species. I wrote a couple other thesis's, like how the Great Schism oddly parallels the Turian Unification Wars and the Hunt for the Salarian League of One in a few ways, specifically how the old tends to put up a hell of a fight before being inevitably overtaken by the new." N'tho continued. "I found it fascinating how similar other species could be to the Sangheili."
"Just goes to show, we're not as different as we all think." Kaidan noted.
"Never took you for an intellectual, N'tho." John commented.
"Yeah, well, you didn't take me as the type to read poetry either." the Sangheili said. "I'm full of surprises. It's part of my charm."
"Apparently." John replied. The Spartan paused in thought as N'tho continued tapping on his omni-tool and Kaidan continued eating. "Say N'tho. Mind if I asked you something?"
"Sure." N'tho replied.
"I know that a lot of Sangheili like you have taken an interest in Human culture." John said. "But why?"
"A fascination born from cultural exchange after the Human-Covenant War." N'tho replied. "Didn't you know that already?"
"Yes." John replied. "But there's cultural fascination and then there's cultural obsession. As far as I can tell, there aren't any 'squidhead' groups among any other species. So what made so many of your kind take to Human customs as much as you did?"
"That's a tricky question to answer." N'tho replied as he saved his work and deactivated his omni-tool. "But I did write on the subject, so I do have an idea. In order to understand the Sangheili today, one must first understand the Sangheili during the days of the Old Covenant, which by proxy means you must understand the Old Covenant itself."
"A collection of alien races deadset on wiping out all mankind." John replied. "What else is there to know?"
"Not collection. Caste system." N'tho corrected. "Big difference. One reason why the Covenant lasted as long as it did was that it had a species for every occasion. You had the Unggoy at the bottom of the barrel to be used as cannon fodder, Kig-Yar for recon, Mgalekgolo for heavy weapons, and so on and so forth. Everyone had a clearly defined role. Running the whole thing were the San 'Shyuum, but right below them was us, the Sangheili. We were the dominant military caste of the Covenant. We were the best species for combat, hands down. Every other race save for the San 'Shyuum ultimately answered to us."
"But then the Great Schism happened." N'tho went on. "San 'Shyuum got pissed at us and then we gave them a good ass-beating. You were there so you probably know most of the details, so I need not go on about that. But once the Covenant was shattered and we Sangheili were on our own, we realized something."
N'tho paused for what John could only assume was dramatic effect. "Sangheili were the best at combat. But we sucked ass at everything else. See things like agriculture, science, basic infrastructure maintenance? None of that stuff was our department. Back in the Old Covenant, we let other species worry about that kinda stuff, so we could focus more on fighting. In retrospect, that was probably how the San 'Shyuum were able to hold power over the Covenant races for so long; by dividing up the duties between all the races to keep them dependent on each other, and more importantly, keep them dependent on the San 'Shyuum to keep the whole thing working."
"Meanwhile, look at you Humans." N'tho said as he gestured to the Chief. "You guys had zero extraterrestrial contact before the Covenant came along, which meant you learned to stand on your own two feet long before we came along. Combat, science, economy, you guys could do it all. So a lot of Sangheili examined Human culture to try and figure out what made you guys tick, how your race is able to function without help from other species. The Unggoy really helped with that by sharing Human transmissions with us."
"The Unggoy?" John asked. "You mean the grunts?"
"Yeah." N'tho said with a nod. "During the Human-Covenant War, one of the duties of the Unggoy was to monitor UNSC communications. They were well-suited for the job because they were able to learn Human languages easier than other Covenant species. They wound up building a black market around Human television programs and music. After the war, curious young Sangheili started paying visits to this black market to learn more about the Humans and their ways. As the decades went by, consumption of Human media became less and less taboo among my race, one thing led to another, and a hundred years later Sangheili Flip music artist Frankenstein Joe is at the top of the charts."
"So the Sangheili can stand on their own now? Like Humans can?" John asked.
"You bet." N'tho replied with a nod. "Combat is still our biggest strength, mind you. We're still warriors when all is said and done. But nowadays we're more than capable of maintaing our own plumbing, instead of just handing the plunger to an Unggoy and telling them to do it."
"Sounds like your species has been through a lot in the last hundred years." John commented.
"That we have." N'tho replied. "Learning how to become more independent and less reliant on other species to do all the dirty work for us was just one of many ways we had to adapt to a Post-Covenant era. In addition to that, we had to ask ourselves what our new purpose in life was."
"Purpose?" Kaidan asked.
"In the Old Covenant, everything the Sangheili did, everything the other Covenant races did, was all meant to help us advance towards one goal and one goal only. The Great Journey. That was our goal. That was our purpose. To ascend to a new plane of reality and join our gods. Then we found out that the Great Journey was just a load of skaven crap. After dulling out the afore-mentioned ass-beatings to the San 'Shyuum, we spent the next few years sitting on Sangheilios twiddling our thumbs asking ourselves 'Now what?' We used to be a race with a clearly-defined purpose, but now that the Covenant was dead and gone, that purpose went kaput. So once again, some of us turned to the Humans for answers. Their civilization was about as advanced as ours, so we asked what kept them going."
"What did we tell you?" John asked.
"Well, you just kinda shrugged and said that the galaxy spins at several hundred-thousand miles per hour and we're all just along for the ride." N'tho replied. "Some Humans say that life has no inherent purpose for any species. Others say that purpose is something you need to create for yourself. At first, those answers didn't really satisfy us as much as we hoped. Even worse, when we did start taking that advice to our hearts and began seeking out our own purposes, some of us arrived at different conclusions."
"What do you mean?" John asked.
"The Great Schism? It wasn't just against the San 'Shyuum and the Jiralhanae." N'tho explained. "Once the Covenant itself was torn asunder, we began to turn on each other. On one side, you had the Arbiter's faction of Sangheili who believed in maintaining the truce we developed with Humans at the end of the Human-Covenant War. On the other side, you had a whole bunch of Sangheili who still had a healthy hatred of Humans. They wanted to keep the war going, saying that we should head back to Earth and finish the job."
"One of the worst offenders on the 'kill all the Humans' side of the argument was a guy named Jul 'Mdama." N'tho went on. "He was charismatic enough to rally together a militant force of Sangheili and a few other former-Covenant races to form what the UNSC called the Covenant Remnant. The remnant continued to harass both the Arbiter's faction and the UNSC for several more years. Finally, both got tired of his shit and started to fight back. His primary base of operations was eventually found and we subsequently bombarded the ever-loving wort out of it from orbit."
"And Jul?" John asked.
"He died in the bombing. Supposedly, anyway." N'tho said.
"Supposedly?" John probed.
"They never found his body. Never confirmed the kill." N'tho explained.
"Well it was an orbital bombardment." Kaidan pointed out. "I imagine there wouldn't be a body left to find. At least not one that was recognizable."
"True." N'tho admitted. "Still, bad guys like Jul never die easy. Twenty creds says that he's still out there somewhere. Laying low. Waiting for the right opportunity to make his comeback."
"You really believe that?" John asked.
N'tho shrugged. "They never found his body. That's all I'm sayin.'"
John paused in thought. He was already hunting one alien war criminal who sought the complete extinction all mankind. The notion that there may be another one hiding in some remote part of the galaxy unnerved him. Particularly since the war criminal in question was a remnant of the Old Covenant, the force that brought Humanity to the brink of extinction.
John shook his head, dismissing the thought. Kaidan was right. Jul 'Mdama most likely died with his base. If he was inside his base at the time, then there was very little, if any chance that he survived the bombardment. N'tho may believe otherwise, but he also believed that Halo was a weapon. Between that and thinking that Jul was still alive, John suspected that the young Sangheili was something of a conspiracy theorist.
However, N'tho was completely right about Halo. It was almost enough to make the Spartan wonder if, perhaps, he was also right about Jul.
"Credit for your thoughts, Chief?" Kaidan asked.
"Just thinking about how a charismatic Sangheili warlord with a hatred of Humans hiding in some obscure corner of the galaxy is a very disconcerting notion to me." John replied. "For obvious reasons."
"I wouldn't worry about it." Kaidan said with a shake of his head. "Even if Jul is somehow still alive, he hasn't resurfaced in well over a century. I doubt he's going to do it anytime soon, if at all. Right now, we've got bigger fish to fry."
"Like Saren." John said with a nod.
"On that subject, permission to speak freely sir?" Kaidan asked.
"Granted." John replied.
"Off the record, I think there's something wrong about all this." Kaidan began. "Saren has been looking for records on galactic extinction, but we can't get more back up from the Council?" the biotic shook his head. "There's writing on the wall here, but someone isn't reading it."
"They're politicians." N'tho replied. "What did you expect?"
"It just seems like a group that's been around as long as the Council should see what's coming." Kaidan went on. "By now, it should be obvious to them that Saren's more than just a former Spectre who went nuts and started recruiting an army of Geth. There's more to this than what it seems."
"You're beginning to sound like N'tho, Lieutenant." John pointed out.
"Maybe." Kaidan confessed.
"Hey." N'tho protested.
"In all seriousness Lieutenant, I know you're talking about the Reapers." John said. "Do you believe in them?"
"Like I said, there's writing on the wall." Kaidan replied. "I'm skeptical mind you, but I'm not blind. By now, I've seen enough evidence to suggest that, at the very least, they were real at some point. Whether they're still real remains to be seen though."
"I'm with Kaidan. To quote the Monkees, I'm a believer." N'tho threw in his two cents. "Protheans wouldn't leave behind a beacon designed to give the user visions of galactic apocalypse for nothing."
"What do you think, Chief?" Kaidan asked. "Do you think the Reapers are real?"
John paused to think for a moment. "Well at first, I thought that the Council had it right, in spite of my vision. That Saren just made up the Reapers to convince the Geth to follow him. But the more time goes on, the more I think that you two are right. There's something else going on here. Something more. Something that we're not seeing."
"Your vision is probably the key to solving the mystery." Kaidan said. "I know that Liara's been trying to help you decipher it. Any progress so far?"
"Not really." Chief replied with a sigh. "Every other night, I get the same nightmare. Dying Protheans, metal and circuits implanted into flesh - "
"Wait. Metal and circuits implanted into flesh? Forcefully, possibly?" N'tho asked. John nodded. The Sangheili turned to Kaidan. "Sound familiar?"
"Husks." Kaidan said.
"Makes sense." Chief commented. "Those dragon teeth we found on Trebin were buried in millennia-old rock. If the Geth didn't make them, the Reapers probably did."
"So, that's one suspicion confirmed." N'tho said.
"Yeah." John replied. "Too bad that interesting new tidbit isn't bringing us any closer to the Conduit."
"To defeat thy enemy, you must understand thy enemy." N'tho said. "We learned something new about the Reapers. Specifically, they like to take organic beings and turn them into cyborg zombies. It's better than nothing."
"I suppose." Chief said.
"You should keep trying to understand the vision with Liara." Kaidan suggested. "She's helped you out a lot so far from the sound of things. If you're lucky, the Conduit's location could be right there in your vision and Liara could help you find it."
"And you ARE well known for your luck." N'tho reminded. "Heck, if you keep up the mind-melding with Liara, not only could you find the Conduit's location, you might get lucky in a….different sense, if you know what I mean." he said with a smile.
"What do you mean?" John asked.
"You know." N'tho replied.
"Actually no, I don't. That's why I'm asking." John said.
"Oh come on, everyone's been talking about it." N'tho said. "You and an Asari. Spending extended periods of time alone in what is essentially the med bay's closet."
"She seems nice enough." Kaidan added. "Easy on the eyes. Little bookish for my tastes, though."
John sighed. Not this again. "Liara and I are not romantically involved." he stated.
"You sure?" N'tho asked. "I mean, you've been mind melding with her and everything."
"So she could help me analyze my vision." John defended.
"He's probably telling the truth, N'tho." Kaidan said. "Asari don't always bond for reproductive purposes."
"Hey, I never said anything about reproduction." N'tho pointed out. "Now is decidedly not a good time for Liara to get pregnant after all. I'm just saying that, just like the regular kind of sex, bonding can be done strictly for funsies."
"Liara and I are not bonding 'for funsies.'" John sternly said. "How long has this rumor been going around? This is the second time I've heard about it."
"Since you started bonding with her last week." N'tho replied.
"It's mostly talked about in the lower deck." Kaidan said. "If it's to be believed, then she's interested in you as more than a source of Prothean data."
"Well she's not." John resolutely said. "My relationship with Dr. Liara T'soni is strictly professional. We clear?"
"Crystal, sir." Kaidan replied.
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." N'tho added. "Ashley might be more your type anyway."
"What?" John asked.
"Oh, there's another rumor floating around up in the CIC that Ashley is the one you have a relationship with." N'tho explained.
"What?" John asked.
"Makes sense." N'tho replied. "She's a marine, so you'd have more in common with her than you would with Liara for one thing. And let's not forget that date the two of you went on back on Reach."
"That wasn't a date." John said, becoming increasingly annoyed.
"You and a lady go to a sports game followed by dinner? Sounds like a date to me." N'tho countered.
"Whatever happened to 'didn't want to pry into my personal life behind my back?'" John asked.
"I'm not prying into your personal life behind your back." N'tho replied. "I'm doing it right in front of you."
John groaned as he covered his face with his palm. "Ashley and I are not romantically involved." he stated. "And yes, I'm sure."
"Hm." N'tho thoughtfully murmured. He looked towards Kaidan, who hadn't spoken for a couple of minutes. He was sipping his milk, turning his head away from the now-awkward conversation. N'tho looked back towards the Chief. "So, you and Kaidan huh?" he asked.
Kaidan was so startled that he spit out his milk. "What?!" the biotic demanded.
"Well, Dr. Chakwas told me you were bisexual." N'tho replied. "Plus, you were technically in Blue Team longer than anyone else, so -."
"That's a rumor?" Kaidan demanded.
"Well, not yet." N'tho said. He then smiled mischievously. "But I did talk to Lowe up on the bridge about it, so I don't think it'll be long before I get the whole deck talking."
"You're enjoying this." Kaidan accused.
"A little." N'tho confessed.
John's hand was still covering his eyes. He groaned in annoyance.
"Okay look. I'm bi, but I don't see the Master Chief in that kind of way." Kaidan defended. N'tho just stared at the biotic with a raised eyebrow. "Well…..Okay, I might have glanced at his rear end from time to time."
John placed his hand down and just stared at the biotic. "I don't have intentions with you, sir." Kaidan quickly added. "Just…..art appreciation."
"…..Anyone else, N'tho?" Chief asked. "Anyone else that scuttlebutt says I might have a thing for?"
"Nope. Just Liara, Ashley and Kaidan sir." N'tho replied with a nod.
The Spartan continued to stare at the Sangheili menacingly. He could hear the telltale sound of N'tho nervously tapping his hoof on the floor, as well as his fingers drumming the table.
"Okay fine!" N'tho finally cracked before the Spartan Stare. "Word down in engineering says you and Tali might have a thing going."
"Oh for - Tali? Seriously?" John asked.
"What? She's nice. You saved her life on the Citadel, she saved your life on Sharjila, yeah she was pissed about the whole Cortana thing but you kissed and made up on Reach, right?" N'tho asked.
"She's a Quarian." John pointed out. "If it weren't for that suit of hers, I could kill her with an errant sneeze, let alone intercourse."
"Oh don't worry about the suit." N'tho said. "I've read several articles about Quarian intimacy on the extranet. Believe me. There are ways around the suit."
"….Why would you read several articles about Quarian intimacy?" Kaidan asked. This time, he was the one with a mischievous grin.
"…..Uuuuhhh….." N'tho had no answer that could possibly make him look good in this situation.
"Alright, look." John stated. "Every man, woman and alien on this ship is a professional. We're here because we have a job to do. This is a warship, not a love boat. I don't want to hear any more talk about romantic affairs for the rest of this campaign. Are we clear?"
"Crystal, sir." N'tho replied. Kaidan nodded.
"Good." John said. "Now can we please talk about something else?"
"…..You've seriously never read The Hobbit?" N'tho asked.
The Master Chief covered his face with his palm again.
….
Jondum Bau took another sip of his saloosh, a Sangheili-brewed beer made from fermented grain. One would suspect that, as a product made by a race of warriors, saloosh would be a very hard liquor that would leave most non-Sangheili races utterly plastered after just a shot or two, similar to the Krogan's ryncol. In reality, the opposite was true. Sangheili liquor is actually quite light, probably because public drunkenness is highly looked down upon in their culture. Saloosh is only just strong enough to help a shipmaster or zealot relax after winning a difficult battle. It seemed that the Sangheili had no idea why other species would deliberately impair their senses and judgement with stronger alcohol.
It definitely didn't do much for Jondum. Not even a half-decent buzz. Thanks to his species' naturally high metabolism, his liver was no doubt making quick work of what little alcohol the saloosh put into his system. Damn shame. Considering who he was about to be working with, the Salarian needed a good buzz to get through the day.
The Spectre was sitting in the diplomat's lounge in Beacon of Discovery's capitol building. Specifically, he was at the bar, sampling the local flavors. For one, calling it a bar was actually rather generous. It also served food, and freshly-brewed cold saloosh was about the strongest drink they served. He checked his watch. It was getting close to noon.
The Arbiter was late. Bad enough that Jondum was soon going to be working on a Sangheili ship. On top of that, the ship in question couldn't even bother to arrive on time.
Though he was smart enough not to say as much in his vid call with him four days ago, it was actually with great hesitance that Jondum decided to call the Arbiter for help. But the Spectre didn't have a choice. With the Master Chief's hands tied, the Arbiter was his best chance at a Halo expert. He had noted combat experience on the ring, and given the Sangheili's penchant for worshipping the Forerunners he was likley to bring along several Forerunner experts in the form of priests. However, he dreaded it because he knew that, as a Salarian, working with Sangheili would be difficult.
Out of the three Council races, the Sangheili Empire experienced the most friction with the Salarian Union. It was mostly due to their vastly different military doctrines. The Sangheili believed in fighting wars with honor. They will deliberately destroy a planet's orbital defenses, even if bypassing them instead is a valid option. They would sooner fight hand-to-hand and die rather than pick up and use a fully functional firearm at their feet, simply because the firearm was once used by an enemy. The worst offenders are the high-ranking zealots, who will fight with sword and sword alone, completely shunning any form of long-ranged combat.
The Salarians were the complete opposite. Jondum's people believed in winning wars before they even begin by way of espionage, sabotage and guerilla warfare. They consider the very notion of openly declaring war to be insane and stupid as it gives your enemy an effective warning. Salarians are not above bypassing orbital defenses if they can, taking full advantage of enemy resources, and they most certainly prefer guns over swords. Granted, Jondum has an omni-blade, but he only uses it in close quarters where the gun isn't a preferable option.
For this reason, it's difficult for a Sangheili zealot and a Salarian STG operative to cooperate with one another on missions. The zealot would call the operative a coward, the operative would call the zealot an idiot, and both would likely be defeated by what is supposed to be their mutual enemy because they were too busy bickering with each other. And Jondum was not looking forward to all the inevitable bickering.
"Jondum Bau."
The Salarian looked over his shoulder and saw a Sangheili decked in ceremonial bronze-colored armor that was polished to a shine. "You're late." he said.
"My apologies." Arbiter Thel 'Vadam replied. "We encountered….traffic on the way to the port."
"Traffic?" Jondum asked as he left some credits from the bartender and stood up.
"After the Geth attacked Therum two weeks ago, a fleet was summoned here to help defend the colony from further attacks." Thel explained as he began leading the Spectre out of the lounge. A pair of Mgalekgolo guards standing by the exit bowed to the Arbiter as he passed through it.
"An entire fleet? Overdoing it, don't you think?" Jondum asked.
"Therum is very important to the Empire. It represents our strongest foothold in the Attican Traverse." the Arbiter explained as they continued down a corridor. "If we are to go hunting for Geth in the traverse, then we must guarantee that our foothold is secure."
"From the way you talk about it, it sounds like your people are getting ready for a long war." Jondum commented as they exited the building into what seemed to be a courtyard of some sort. It was then that a Sangheili in red armor jogged by, leading a team of four Sangheili in blue armor and sixteen Unggoy, all in tight formation.
"Isn't everyone?" Thel asked. "Saren's raid on Eden Prime did not go unnoticed by my people. The subsequent raids here and on Feros only confirmed our suspicions. Saren wants a war. And so, we shall give him one."
Jondum sighed. "I hope you're not talking about sending your fleets into the traverse. That could provoke another war, one with the Terminus Systems."
"Which is why we are, at the moment, only focusing on strengthening our defenses." Thel assured. "We've little idea where the soulless machines hide in the traverse. Without any leads, sending in fleets to wander the traverse in search of them would be a waste of time and resources."
"Speaking of leads, I may have one." Jondum said with a slight smile as he turned on his omni-tool and began tapping keys. "While I was waiting for you here, I was able to hack into a database terminal to see if the Empire knew anything."
Thel's eyes widened in shock. "You broke into our database?" he asked, aghast.
Jondum shrugged. "I'm a Spectre. Hacking terminals is part of the job."
"Enemy terminals are one thing. But hacking the terminals of allies?" Thel skeptically asked.
"I hack any terminal that isn't attended." Jondum said as he sifted through several documents. "Helps keep my skills sharp. Ah, here we go."
A document was holographically projected above the omni-tool. Thel examined it closely. "An Imperial patrol report?" he asked.
"Seems a Shipmaster 'Hrovash reported some unusual energy readings during a patrol of the Argos Rho Cluster." Jondum said. "He had particular concerns about the Hydra system but was recalled before his team could investigate further. No other patrols have been scheduled for that sector."
"You suspect Geth?" the Arbiter asked.
"I suspect a lead. It's better than nothing." the Spectre replied. With that, he turned off his omni-tool.
"Then with our course set, it is time we embark." Thel said. He looked up and saw an Imperial gunship, a phantom, approaching. "And here is our transport." The phantom slowed to a stop and opened its doors. Inside were two Mgalekgolo. The Arbiter hopped inside, followed closely by Jondum. With that, the doors closed and the phantom began its ascension.
"Cadavu. Bysoti. This is the Spectre who has requested our aid." the Arbiter said to the two Mgalekgolo. Jondum smiled at the two hulking aliens.
"Jondum Bau. Special Tactics and Recon. Pleasure to meet you both." he greeted.
The two aliens just stared at him. Or, they would if they had discernible eyes. He also noted unusual vibrations coming from the floor. Then he remembered how Mgalekgolo communicate and realized that one or both of them was growling at him. He turned to the Arbiter. "I don't think they like me."
"Take no offense." one of the Mgalekgolo said. 'Said' had a bit of a loose definition here though, as Jondum felt the vibrations through the ground and his translator interpreted those vibrations as words. "Bysoti here does not like anyone. Nothing personal."
The next ten minutes or so were spent in awkward silence. Well, 'awkward' may not be the right word. 'Anxious' would be better, as Jondum was fairly certain that the Mgalekgolo named Bysoti wanted to kill him. He kept his hand on his pistol, a Kessler MK-X that saw him through many dire situations like this one.
"We are approaching the Glorious New Destiny." the phantom's pilot announced. Jondum sighed in relief. The sooner he got out of this enclosed space with those two walking artillery pieces ready to snap at any second, the better. The Salarian walked through the passenger compartment and into the cockpit hoping to take a peak at the Glorious New Destiny, the ship that he would be serving on for the duration of this mission.
His eyes widened in shock, mixed in with a pinch of horror.
The green coloration and bulbous bow of the craft were fairly typical of Sangheili ship design, also the fact that it was big. Ironically, what made it so different from typical was the fact that it was big. Very big. Big by Sangheili standards, and that was saying a lot. It measured 28.960 kilometers in length, 11.447 kilometers in width, and 3.563 kilometers in height. Jondum knew those specifications because he memorized them. He memorized them because everyone in the STG was required to memorize the exact measurements of the single largest model of ship of any species anywhere in all the known galaxy.
Jondum turned towards Thel. "That is our ship?" he asked.
"One single ship. As per your request, Spectre." the Arbiter replied.
Jondum could feel vibrations again. It was both of the Mgalekgolo this time, and rather than growling, Jondum was very certain that they were laughing. The Salarian sighed as he covered his face with his palm.
….
Codex Entry (Aliens - Non-Council Races): SANGHEILI: CULTURE
Similar to Turians, the Sangheili are a warrior race with a long and proud history of combat. So much so that the formation of the Covenant, their longest-lasting government, was formed in the wake of their first inter-species war. However, the Sangheili take their warrior culture much further than the Turians do, particularly their sense of honor, which dictates the everyday lives of all Sangheili, especially those serving in the military.
This code of honor is similar to Japanese Bushido, sharing concepts such as skill in combat, loyalty to master and clan, and views on death. Both belief systems romanticize death in battle as the most honorable way to die. If a warrior is captured alive, he has only two options: escape from his captors of his own volition, or commit ritualistic suicide. Furthermore, this warrior attitude once made the Sangheili extremely arrogant and even outright cruel towards species they viewed as 'inferior,' though they did display open respect and even admiration for fellow warrior races, even the Humans at the height of the Human-Covenant War.
One superstitious quirk the Sangheili have is the literal interpretation that blood is equatable to honor. To bleed outside of battle is viewed as shameful. For this reason, the Sangheili are the only species in the known galaxy to openly look down on doctors, due to their practices making patients bleed outside of battle.
Over the last century, the Sangheili have been experiencing a new cultural renaissance, mostly due to cultural influence from their former enemies the Humans. The Sangheili learned from the Humans values such as pragmatism and compassion. They treat their Unggoy comrades with more respect than they used to, and even doctors are not as looked down upon as they once were thanks to advances in medical technology (advances that are specifically designed to minimize blood loss during patient treatment) provided by the Humans. Nowhere is this cross-species cultural impact more apparent than in the self-titled Squidhead Movement, which embraces and celebrates many aspects of Human culture, particularly Human entertainment. Despite all these changes however, the Sangheili are still every bit the honorable warriors they have always been.
….
Okay, so my update rate doesn't seem to be improving much. Still, I have an exciting announcement to make!
I have a tumblr!
This is something I've been wanting to do for a while. As long-time readers have no doubt noticed, I tend to go on tangents in the author's notes, and while I'm far from being the only author who does that, my ego feels that I've become a big enough literary god that I now warrant my own blog.
So what can watchers expect from my new tumblr? Well….
- You can ask me questions and I will do my best to answer them all!
- See me write the occasional essay on the inner workings of story-telling!
- Fan art! Assuming that there IS any Last Spartan fan art. And there isn't yet. Believe me, I've looked. So yeah, I guess this one doesn't count.
- Read me rant about things!
- Behind the scenes looks at the Last Spartan and other fanfics!
- Postings of Youtube videos that I think are amusing!
- And of course, you can watch me endure countless asks pestering me about when the next chapter will come out and also about how much this fanfic sucks, all while I die on the inside!
So head on down to DinoJake's Word-Works! Go google it! Or go check my profile. Hopefully there's a link there, but you know how FF's interface can be.