Halo: The Mirratord

by soulguard

120 years before the events of Halo, the greatest of the Sangheili race have been called together to do what must be done in order to protect their kin from the unknown mysteries of the Covenant. This is where the legend begins.

7. Union of Heresy, Union of Faith

Section 7: Union of Heresy, Union of Faith

"The Age of Reclamation"
Covenant High Council Meeting hall
High Charity
Covenant Armada Base of Operations
Location: Unknown
March 15, 2434 :: Sol Relative Time

"Walk with me, Commander." Truth turned his hovering throne chair and began to float toward the exit of the Meeting Hall. At his side walked the Elite Spec Ops commander, R'tas Vadumee. In a procession behind them walked the mighty Sangheili Honor Guards, hand picked by Truth and Mercy to protect them at all times.

Truth dared not to face the young Special Operations Commander, and instead spoke to him while looking forward, nearly ignoring his presence. "We are fortunate that the Prophet of Punishment was not a Hierarch, Commander. Placing him under your Special Operations protection seemed to be the wisest of choices, yet now we are at a crossroad. This can not go unpunished."

"I fully understand your disappointment, Holy One. The loss of one of our leaders has still not fully registered within me. Once the ship arrives from the outpost world, I will speak to the Spec Ops division leader myself, and attempt to uncover this travesty."

"Travesty?" Truth mumbled to himself. "It is more than that, Commander. For centuries we Prophets have trusted the Sangheili as our safeguard, yet in one day we lost four of our brothers… and one of them was a high ranking official. The news of this event has not spread, because of the victory against the Yanmee', but be weary that there will be outcries from the other Prophets. Noble Mercy is already preparing our statement to the Covenant about this matter, but I want to know the truth." Mercy stopped his forward progress and turned toward the Commander; finally looking at him. "Was it a Heretic, or was he assassinated?"

The Commander knew the answer, but could not dream of revealing such facts. "I will do all that I can to uncover what has happened. But I will say that it was done by professionals."

Truth leaned forward, curious, questioning. "What do you suspect?"

"Highly trained Sangheili agents. Perhaps they were Heretic insurgents that we are not aware of. Or, I fear, a traitor could be amongst us."

R'tas Vadumee, as the newest Commander of the Special Operations division, had undergone many years of training in espionage, spying, torture, command, and deceit. He knew that throwing the Hierarchs off his trail would mean more than simply lying to them, he would need to tell them the truth; or a falsified version of it. He had been commander for only a short term, but he was well aware of the cunning of the Prophets. Yet the hologram image of Halo, which he had seen deep inside the Yanmee' nest, still burned into his eyes; its majesty, size and power, all in the form of a simple hologram. He could not forget that he had seen the prize of the Covenant Union, the goal that the Covenant had sought for hundreds of years, and crossed billions of light years to reach. He would not give up the Mirratord Secret, but he would be as honest with the Prophets as he could.

R'tas Vadumee had finally become a believer in the Covenant. He did not believe in the Prophets, but he knew that they truly did know the path of the Great Journey.

"Traitors?" Truth questioned as he turned toward the exit. "Tell me, Commander. How strong is your faith?"

"My faith is strong, Holy One. I give my life to the will of the Covenant."

"Prove it." Truth softly stated. "Find the killer and bring him before the Council and we will publicly execute him. This is my first decree to you, young warrior. You come with high recommendations from your kin, yet your youth and inexperience has me questioning your abilities. Return to me when you have completed this assignment."

Truth and his escorts exited the room as the Commander stood in the foyer door. He turned to another path and proudly walked the darkened hallway of High Charity. This was his first meeting with the Holy Hierarch known as Truth. Unlike Regret, Truth was a very cautious speaker. The Commander sensed it early that he was not a Prophet that would easily mix words. Truth was smart, the second wisest of the three Hierarchs, but was clearly their group leader. Pulling the wool over Truth's eyes was not going to be an easy task.

The door parted and the Commander saw the Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Divine Light waiting patiently for his update. "Ah, Commander, finally you have arrived." At the Supreme Commander's side stood several red armored Sangheili; his bodyguards when off ship. "I hope your conversation with the Hierarchs went well."

"Yes. However, there is much work to be done. The Council has not released the facts that four Prophets are dead, including Punishment, yet it will only be a matter of time before such information becomes public knowledge. We must find that killer. I suspect a Heretic to be in our ranks, one of incredible skill, but for now we must speak with the Spec Ops division leader aboard that ship. I request your leave, Supreme Commander."

"Granted. The ship in which contains Punishment's body is due to arrive shortly; The Truth and Reconciliation. It will be removed from service so that you can perform your investigation. Also, that ship and its crew are due to be transferred to the Fleet of Particular Justice at the end of this Rotation. Keep that in mind, as that means that the ship will be sent to the front line."

"Thank you, Supreme Commander." The commander nodded and began his long walk to the outer docking ring.

- - - - - - - -

Truth floated into the Inner Sanctum and waved off his royal Honor Guards. His mind was in deep thought, "If the Commander dives too deep into this search, he may uncover the torture chamber. However, those amongst us who knew of its existence are now dead. But even in death, this secret could cause great unrest in our control. I must make the Commander understand and fully devout his life to the will of the Covenant. Though he is young, he is highly intelligent. Perhaps there is a way to make him my personal informant."

Truth noticed that his arm rest was glowing, signaling that he had received a private transmission; noted from Regret. He pressed the button and listened closely. "Noble Truth and Mercy, brothers rejoice. The second phase of our deed has begun. Now that the Yanmee' have returned to their duties of repairing our ships, I have sent three of my cruisers to the Outpost World to search for any "stragglers" that may have been left behind. Be joyful that this group will represent the Covenant well in their mission. Though they will fail, we can be assured that the Jiralhanae will be pleased with the battle. The Migration Plan has begun. Soon, the Jiralhanae will also be at our side."

Truth terminated the transmission, "At least I can be assured that this will go smoothly. The Jiralhanae will bathe themselves in combat, and then join our might." Truth turned on his recorder to reply to Regret's transmission. "Holy Regret, honorable Mercy, this brings me much satisfaction. This will in no doubt spear head our union into absolution. Yet, we must prepare, the Sangheili will wish to avenge their honor and fallen kin. When this battle is over, a new war will begin, the Sangheili will rush to the aid of their fallen brothers and we will intervene and establish peace. There will be much bloodshed, yet it will all be for the glory of the Great Journey."

- - - - - - - -

"The Age of Reclamation"
Outpost world
Former home sector of "The Fleet of Divine Light"
March 17, 2434 :: Sol Relative Time

He was being tracked, and whoever they were they were skilled at it. Simyaldee continued his normal pace, trying not to reveal that he was aware of his pursuers. The sun would set soon, and under the shroud of darkness he could double back and see who his they were. They were skilled, but not nearly skilled enough. Simyaldee knew the terrain, he had trained in these foothills for three years under his master, and he was a trained Sangheili warrior. He would not be caught off guard.

The sun slowly nestled behind the high distant peeks of a mountain range, glowing pink-orange as the night blues filled the overhead sky. The blue line of the sky retreated from the darkness of space, as the sun finally vanished from eyesight. Simyaldee slowly turned a bend, leading toward a shallow river bed, an old rest stop that he and his kin had found during their constant training hikes. He leapt into the trees, assuring that his tracks would vanish, and jumped several yards to a patch of low lying grass.

If they wanted to track him, this would surely throw them off his trail long enough for him to find out who they were. Simyaldee made his way back toward the chasers, hoping to see them before they turned the bend. His plan was a success, and he huffed in frustration at what he saw. He stepped clear of his cover in the darkened shadows of a line of trees, and startled the two young elites that had ignored his early instructions. Startled, the young female gripped her younger brother and placed herself between him and Simyaldee.

Simyaldee stepped closer, towering over the young female, and placed his head merely inches from her own in a display of dominance. "Why are you following me? I told you to take the ship and leave!"

The young female lowered her head and averted her eyes. "There were others with us, and I sent them ahead. A small ship will not be enough to get us off world…."

"Others?" Simyaldee huffed. "Is there anything else you would like to share?"

She could sense Simyaldee's anger, and decided that perhaps now would be the appropriate time to tell him the truth. "You said you were headed to a valley, we are going with you. You have been walking for two days, and your supplies are running low, meaning you would not risk going to far from your path to simply shake us off your trail. In fact, I am sure of it."

"And what of these others, you mentioned? Where are they?"

"With the ship, I hope. They will come to me when I summon them." She exposed a wrist communicator, though it was damaged. "The communications system is destroyed, but the tracking signal works. They will come once I turn it on."

Simyaldee pulled back from the female and huffed. "I did not leave my path. Come, we still have a ways to go." He was somewhat concerned. This young female was smarter then she was leading on. The wrist unit she wore was of military design, and had been damaged by plasma fire, yet she knew how it worked and what its capabilities were. This was not something that a young female farmer should know. She was up to something, and for now Simyaldee had decided to play it through, though he was not going to let his guard down.

- - - - - - - -

The old camp was well kept, and even though it had been many years since Simyaldee had seen it, it was still the same. Fresh hoof prints were scattered about, meaning that the camp had been used, perhaps by the Master's final class of young. He wondered if they graduated successfully, of if the Master vanished before their training was complete. Simyaldee let his eyes pass around the camp, spotting the patches of mud from sparing pits, rows of crushed grass from formation lines, and even the obstacle course where he frequently placed first. The memories swelled within him and how stupid he was when he was here. He hated the training camp. He hated the conditioning and the teachings. He hated the teachers and the instructors, but mostly he hated his master.

Yet, on the eve of his final month at the camp, everything changed. The teachings of the master, the instructors and the teachers finally began to make sense. And he understood why the master was so tuff on him.

Simyaldee was needed in order to lead a new generation of Elite.

The master knew of Simyaldee's bloodline, his family heritage, and what it meant to carry his genes. But he didn't want to be a soldier, he didn't want to go into the academy or become a Watchman. He was young, angry and stupid. Yet even now, after all the years of training in the Academy, Simyaldee knew that he was still stupid. He didn't want to fight simply because of his bloodline, or because his father was a great leader within the High Council. But at the same time he did want the Prophets to pay for what they did to his father. He thought the Mirratord would be what he needed, but the Mirratord no longer seemed like the right path for him.

The midday sun rose overhead and Simyaldee sat in the shade of tree. The female's younger brother happily played on the obstacle course while the young female waited at the edge of the camp. A Seraph fighter descended into view and came to a rest several yards away in a field of wild grass. She happily raced toward the fighter as three males exited, carrying the prone body of the females father. Simyaldee was curious as to how four of them could fit inside a ship designed for two, but things were weird enough already.

His thoughts were then interrupted by a small tap on his shoulder. "Can you teach me?" The young male questioned.

"Teach you what, little one?" Simyaldee returned.

"To be a warrior like you."

- - - - - - - -

"The Age of Reclamation"
Outpost world
Former home sector of "The Fleet of Divine Light"
March 21, 2434 :: Sol Relative Time

"If this is a game, Prophet, I will have your head!" The snarl of words exited a monstrous mouth bustling with large clever like teeth. His white fur glowed brilliantly in the lights of his ship's bridge as he glared at the view screen.

"I promise you, Chieftain, this is not a ruse." The Prophet returned from the other end of the video display. The massive Jiralhanae gazed through the forward portal as the outpost world came into view. The air was clean and its oceans were deep blue. "Report!" The chieftain snarled to his crew.

"There is one ship in high orbit; two more are hovering over the planets largest city; on the eastern continent."

The Chieftain returned to the display of the Prophet. "Your Hierarchs have shown us quite the welcome, yet we will see how well we like it when we land. I can assume there are plenty of prizes waiting for us with those ships?"

"Oh yes, they are called the Sangheili, and I'm sure there will be plenty of them for your spoils. You can test your strength against them, and see that our Covenant is far stronger than you thought. However, it will be an honor to have you as a part of our Holy crusade."

"The Gods of our ancestor call us to battle, Prophet, and only the strong survive. If these, Sangheili, are truly as strong as you say, then we will have much to discuss. However, if they are as weak and political in mind as you… then the Jiralhanae will wipe out every trace of your pathetic Covenant, and feed you the scraps of your own kin."

"Helm, take us to the largest city and prepare a landing team. Let us see what the army of the Covenant can do." The Jiralhanae ship sped ahead, followed by four similar ships.

The Covenant carrier in orbit quickly noticed their descent, and the Sangheili crew quickly began to act. "Ship master, they are advancing toward the outpost world. Your orders?"

"Have they responded to hails?"

"No Sir. All com attempts have been transmitted, but no response."

"The lead ship, have we found a call sign?"

"Negative sir. It is an older design, but clearly one of ours. The ship database can not find it in our logs."

"Why are they here, and not answering our hails?" The ship master pondered. "Is it the Expeditionary Force?"

"No sir, the Expeditionary Force's last report confirmed that they were at least two years away and still heading toward the distant star."

"What of the Luminous Key? Any contacts with it?"

"Engineering confirms contacts with the Luminous Key. Data is being uploaded. We have it! The lead ship is… by the Gods… it is the Heaven's Whisper." The command crew of the Sangheili ship erupted into a roar of confusion.

"That ship was presumed destroyed during the Unggoy Rebellion… what about the other ships."

"Desperate Sacrifice, The Spirit and Flame, Holy Chronicler, and …."

The ship master interrupted, "The Dawn of Life."

"Yes Sir. All confirmed sunk during the Unggoy Rebillion."

The ship master thumbed his lower left mandible and then folded his arms. "They were sunk, I was there. I saw them burned from the skies as the grunts overloaded the engines. These are new ships, but the Luminous Key's must have been taken from their wreckage after the war."

"Do you believe the Unggoy are in command now?"

"No. But perhaps this is why the Prophets ordered us to abandon this outpost; for our safety. They are forever wise in their decisions." The crew nodded in approval. "Notify the landing teams. Helm, move the ship to an intercept course. If they don't answer us this time, then they will not pass. Charge the shields and plasma cannons. All hands, prepare for combat."

- - - - - - - -

Unaware of the battle which was beginning on the opposite side of the planet, Simyaldee and the girl's family prepared for another night. The young male was exhausted after another day of running through the obstacle course and a full day's hike around the camp. Simyaldee found some joy in teaching the young child what his master had taught him, though not as aggressively. But even after four days of being with the family of farmers, Simyaldee was not going to let his guard down.

He sat beside the fire to warm his hands as two of the males also attempted to stay warm. "Tell me, warrior, how much combat have you seen?"

Simyaldee lowered his head and gazed into the fire. "One battle."

There was rustling of leaves behind him as the female approached. "Would this be the same battle in which you had to spill the blood of our own?" She sat at Simyaldee's side, attentive to his every word.

"Indeed. It is nothing that I am proud of."

"No one should be proud of killing their own." She softly replied. Again, Simyaldee noted the sadness upon her face, she knew his pain. She suddenly lifted her head and looked to her two younger brothers. "They would have been old enough to enter the academy this year. In two years, the third oldest would have reached the age, and then finally the youngest of my brothers in five years. But we are simple farmers in the eyes of the Covenant, no matter how hard we tried to break free of our heritage…"

"Elder sister, it is alright. We must accept what we can not change."

"No!" She snapped in return. "Mother slaved her life away, and for what, to be seen as a second rate member of our own race? This is the Prophets' doing. They bring division, hatred and false preaching."

Simyaldee looked to her oddly, "You speak with the passion of a Heretic." A sudden silence filled the area around the campfire, and the female looked to her two brothers. They suddenly stood and walked away. "Why are they leaving?"

Ignoring Simyaldee's question, she replied, "What if I were a Heretic?" She rolled to her knees, and placed her head under Simyaldee's chin. "What if I defied the laws of the Covenant for the sake of my family? What if I told you that my father was not attacked, but instead he was tortured by a Prophet seeking information?" Simyaldee sat motionless, letting the female talk and cuddle within the warmth of his chest. "They were looking for a warrior, a warrior with no name."

Simyaldee felt his heart stop.

"My father knew him, and told them what they wanted to know" She pulled her legs into her chest and relaxed inside Simyaldee's embrace, though she had not noticed his shocked disposition. "They caught this warrior and released my father, though my father was so close to death that I did not think he would survive this long. I understand your hatred for the Covenant; these Prophets are liars… and I will never believe anything they say. According to the Covenant, that makes us Heretics."

Simyaldee rested his head upon the top of the female's head. "The warrior with no name … he was also called, master."

She suddenly pulled away. "He was your master?"

Without warning, the area began to glow. A flame pulsed up above as it slowly streaked across the sky. All eyes turned upward as the once dark region was now engulfed in the light of burning cruiser.

"I thought the fleet had left?" The young female questioned. "Is this the Jiralhanae?"

Simyaldee glared at the burning wreckage as it began to pulse with secondary explosions and plasma fires. "No, that is a cruiser… perhaps a search team. Though I do not believe anyone is still alive on that ship. It was hit by plasma fire, most likely in orbit. It is going to crash. I need to check the com channels to see what's going on up there." Simyaldee raced to the edge of the camp where the Seraph had been covered in dried grass to conceal it. The Seraph's com system was much stronger then his stolen armor, and would allow for him to listen in on the battle net of many frequencies. Yet as he approached the ship he spotted the black armor of a Sangheili warrior.

He walked closer but the warrior was still gazing at the sinking ship in the sky, with his back to Simyaldee. Whoever he was, he had snuck into the camp on foot, there were no signs of vehicles nearby. Simyaldee didn't know who it was, but wasn't going to take a chance. The warrior was Spec Ops, and clearly not meant to be taken lightly.

Simyaldee was unarmed, but stealthy snuck closer to the unsuspecting warrior, but a quick rustling of grass filled his ear. Someone was coming up from his blind side, Simyaldee senses kicked in, whoever these warriors were they were skilled. Simyaldee twisted his hips, dipped his knee and caught the surprise attacker off guard. Simyaldee spun and caught the Warrior in the back of the head with his elbow.

"Calm yourself, brother." Stated a groggy, yet familiar, voice.

Simyaldee stepped away from the Sangheili that he had just subdued, and watched as he slowly stood. "M'atralee?" Simyaldee then looked to see that the warrior who was gazing at the sky had finally turned around. "Second? How did you know I was here?"

Balmaedee stepped closer to Simyaldee. "Where else would you go on a world that was about to be conquered? I assumed you would come here, to this place of our Mirratord birth. We were going to let you enjoy one last night with your new mate, but the battle in orbit is getting out of control. We have orders to extract you back to High Charity… however… I do not think we can leave in the midst of this. When we arrived we expected to see the Jiralhanae, but both groups arrived at the same time; two cruisers and a carrier from the Covenant, and then the Jiralhanae battle group."

"There was nothing mentioned that Covenant ships would be here. Was this planned?" Simyaldee questioned.

"It is the most obvious conclusion." Balmaedee replied. "Those ships are from Regret's battle group. I've been monitoring their transmissions. They came to verify that the planet was completely evacuated. Clearly a lie."

"I am quite sure of that." M'atralee stated; rubbing the back of his head. "A team would have been sent here several days ago to confirm that the planet was empty. They would not have waited more than a week. But no matter, let us not forget why we came back, second." He turned to Simyaldee. "What happened to you, brother? Why did you not meet us at the extraction point? Tell me it is not because of that female."

"No. It is not because of her. I simply… I chose not to come back. I will never go back to the Covenant."

"The Covenant?" M'atralee laughed. "Brother, you are not here for the Covenant."

Balmaedee added. "You have been called to the service of the Sangheili, young one. Have you not understood this?"

"I do not wish to kill my own kin." Simyaldee softly added. "I can not be involved in any more acts like those I committed for the sake of the Mirratord."

"Guard your words, we are no longer alone." Balmaedee nodded his head and they all watched as the young female raced toward them.

"Simyaldee, is everything… who are they?" She quickly pulled up a plasma rifle and took aim at M'atralee.

"They are friends, do not alarm yourself. They came to find me, and bring me back." Simyaldee turned and walked towards her. The female lowered her weapon.

"Teaching the farmers how to fight, Simyaldee?" M'atralee laughed.

Balmaedee snared loudly at him in return. "Show the respect you were taught!" M'atralee didn't understand Balmaedee's anger, but watched as he walked closer toward her. "I could never forget your scent, my lady." Balmaedee knelt at her feet, but she eagerly attempted to make him stand.

"Warrior, you must have me mistaken for another. Please stand." She was somewhat panicked at the moment.

Balmaedee stood. "I did not recognize you from afar, but there is no doubt. Your grandfather, served in the Unggoy Rebellion, we have studied his teachings and war strategies since our birth. Princess, why are you hiding as a farmer?"

"Princess?" Simyaldee questioned as he looked to her.

"Yes, brother. Your new mate is a descendant of the last Arbiter. She is of royal blood." The young female stepped away from Simyaldee, torn by the fact that her identity had been revealed, and the even darker secret which she held deep within.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, ashamed to recall the name she had shed so long ago. "Simyaldee, my name is Vasmeola."

M'atralee stood, mouth agape, gazing at the young female. "You are from the House of Vas? Why are you living your life as a farmer? You have royal blood."

"The House of Vas was divided when my grandfather died during the Rebellion. And when my father heard that our home was going to be ruled by Prophets, he could no longer hold his anger. He left the Covenant, and we chose to stay here. We know the truth of the Prophets' lies and their deceit to confuse us with false hopes. My father has done what he could to share what he knows, but no one will listen. We stayed here, our only chance to escape from the Covenant's grasp."

Simyaldee seemed torn, yet he still felt that she was not sharing everything. "Why did you not tell me?"

"You are a warrior under the flag of the Covenant. Though you have your doubts about your actions, I could not risk telling you."

"There is no time for this." Balmaedee intervened. "Simyaldee, get your gear and let us depart. We will do what we can to help our brothers in this battle, but we must go… now!"

M'atralee gave Simyaldee a satchel of equipment, some that Simyaldee had never seen. "Equip the new shield emitter to your armor, discard the old one."

"What is it?" Simyaldee asked as he pulled the emitter from the satchel.

"It is a new shield emitter. It is the best in the covenant, and designed by 'our' weapons division. You will not see them in use by the standard infantry. It is something to give us a slight advantage during our missions. But they are merely prototypes, and only three of them exist so far. We are wearing them."

Simyaldee gripped the satchel and gave it back to M'atralee. "I do not need it. I'm not leaving."

Balmaedee glared at Simyaldee sternly, and clinched his mandibles tightly. His first step was quick and caught Simyaldee without warning. Before he could comprehend what was happening, Balmaedee had gripped him by the neck and had pinned him to the ground. Struggle as he might, Simyaldee could not escape Balmaedee's grip.

"You made a vow. Have you forgotten that vow? This is beyond you, brother. This is a matter of your oath; your oath to the Sangheili race!"

Vasmeola had once again pulled up her plasma rifle, but it was quickly knocked away by M'atralee. "Forgive my rudeness, but I can not let you interfere." He stated. Vasmeola could only watch as Balmaedee snarled his orders to Simyaldee.

"You will get your armor. You will come with us to our ship. You will help us fight. And you will come back to High Charity with us. If you say 'no', you will die."

The roar of seraph fighter whined overhead, followed by explosions. A group of the fighters where fighting, guarding a carrier that was quickly passing over the camp, heading toward the city several dozen miles away. Simyaldee had no choice but to yield. The battle was getting to close to the camp, hiding would be impossible. This was not what he was expecting; no one could have predicted this. The outpost world was going to become a battlefield.

"Do you understand?" Balmaedee questioned as he released his grip.

Simyaldee understood, though he didn't like it. He had to accept his vow, his vow to his kin, to protect them even from themselves. There was so much he had yet to fully understand about the Mirratord, and Balmaedee had made it painfully clear that leaving the group was punishable by death.

M'atralee placed his hand to the side of his helmet, listening in on the communications being shouted over the battle net. "The Covenant ships are requesting support from the Fleet of Divine Light."

Balmaedee added. "Soon the skies will be full of our ships and this world will become a battlefield. We know nothing of these Jiralhanae, but we must follow the will of the council." Simyaldee reluctantly turned and raced into the camp, running to his armor.

Vasmeola began to follow, but Balmaedee grabbed her. "Gather what you can, we are getting you out of here."

"My family and I will not be going back to the Covenant. We are considered Heretics."

Balmaedee raised his lower mandibles into the elite form of a smile. "That is exactly why you must come back with us."

Simyaldee sprinted into the camp, using his powerful legs to stride across the training grounds. He watched as Vasmeola's brothers gazed into the sky, at the fighting that raged on in the distance. His eyes then caught the burning campfire in the center of the camp.

"Damn." He hadn't thought clearly. "Young ones! Put out the flame, it will show up on the Seraph's sensors and draw attention to us!" The young males quickly jumped to action, stomping out the large fire as quickly as they could. The youngest male, the one that Simyaldee had been teaching, was digging dirt and tossing it into the fire; but it was all for nothing.

"Warrior, behind you!" Shouted one of the young. Simyaldee turned as a Seraph fighter hovered over the distant tree line; gazing into the camp. Friend or foe? Simyaldee had no way of knowing. The ship suddenly pivoted and accelerated out of the region.

Balmaedee, M'atralee and Vasmeola raced into the camp. "Did it see us?" M'atralee questioned.

"No matter, we need to leave." Vasmeola ran to her siblings and began to tell them what to do while Simyaldee pulled on his blue armor.

M'atralee stepped forward and clipped the three equal length bars upon his shoulder. "You are confused right now brother and I understand it completely. But no matter how your mind thinks, you are to wear your bars with honor so long as you never betray us."

Simyaldee looked closely at the three purple bars of the Mirratord. Had he not watched M'atralee apply them to his shoulder, he would not have known that they were any different then normal. The last piece to his armor was the shield emitter. He attached it to the back of his vest and discarded the old one. His armor flared to life, covering him in an enveloping wash of static which suddenly faded.

Balmaedee nodded and then tapped his helmet communicator. "Spirit of Holy Flame this is the recon team, we have found our target. We are ready for pickup."

"Understood. Spirit Drop ship is inbound to your coordinates."

Balmaedee powered off the communication and looked to the group. "Make for the tree line. We shall wait there."

M'atralee tapped Simyaldee on the shoulder as Vasmeola and her siblings ran to the trees, assisting their father as they went. "Look." He pointed to the distance as a U shaped drop ship was making its approach.

Simyaldee nervously stated, "That was fast."

"Indeed. It was too fast." M'atralee turned to Balmaedee. "The Seraph fighter must have reported our position."

"Form a defensive around the civilians, use energy swords only. In this dusk of night, we will let stealth be our ally. Let us see what the Jiralhanae are."

Simyaldee raced to Vasmeola's side and powered off her plasma rifle, to her discontent, but she understood; if a firefight started they would surely be killed. Simyaldee then vanished into the brush of trees, consumed by the night. M'atralee and Balmaedee, wearing their Spec Ops armor, both vanished from sight as their cloaking units powered on. Simyaldee wished he had that option, but he would do well with what he had.

The drop ship descended to standard deployment altitude and both sides of its protruding troop compartments opened. Simyaldee squinted, focusing on the bipedal forms that emerged.

Standing as tall as the average Sangheili, covered in dense brown and black hair, layered with massive muscles, and flaring monstrous teeth, stood this new threat; the Jiralhanae. They grouped together in packs of two, twenty in total, and they snarled incomprehensible orders to each other. Their language was as foreign to the Sangheili as the Kig-Yar's snaps and squawks. They searched the interior of the camp; kicking in the doors to the various huts and buildings. After several moments they turned their attention to the tree lines. One of them stood merely forty yards from Simyaldee's position, allowing him to get a better view of the massive creature.

Their size was unlike anything Simyaldee imagined. Their muscular build was as equally as impressive as their height. They were clearly physically powerful creatures, yet their mass would mean that they were slow. They wore no armor, aside from straps of ammo packs and various knives. Simyaldee could see that each of the creatures was carrying two or more sharp dagger like blades. Their primary weapon was a two handed projectile firing device the Simyaldee could not understand. It was clear, however, that one end could do great damage. The barrel was wide, but aside from that it looked like a simple pipe.

The Jiralhanae creature lifted its nose into the air, sniffing as if it caught the smell of something strong. It motioned forward, barking for its partner to follow. The two of them were closing in on Simyaldee, though they couldn't see him. Simyaldee did not know what to expect from the creatures, but knew that if he relied on his training he could overcome them. He displayed no fear, merely anticipation. These were new creatures, creatures he had never seen before, yet he was going to once again be forced to fight. Fate was cruel.

Simyaldee unclipped his energy sword, hunkered down, and waited. Two on one; for some reason he liked those odds.

The lead brute shouldered the long weapon and pulled up his two daggers; one in each hand. He began to grunt something to his partner, though Simyaldee could not understand anything they were saying.

The lead brute grunted, "I smell it. I smell it! It is here! Finally, worthy prey!"

"I hope there is more. I want to see their blood spill upon my hands!"

"I'll flush it out. If we kill one, I'm sure the others will come." The lead brute charged blindly into the brush, following the smell of fresh meat in its nostrils. It was clumsily swiping at the brush several feet away from Simyaldee; it knew where he was, just not exactly where. That was the creature's misfortune.

The second brute watched as his partner stopped swiping at the brush. "Did you find it? What is taking so long?" He watched as the lead brute slowly stumbled backwards, gripping at its neck. "What it is?" The second brute spun the lead brute around to see that its throat had been cut, yet the wound did not bleed out. He pushed the dieing brute to the side and pointed his weapon toward the brush and fired. A scattered mist of small powdered shells exploded from the barrel, cutting the through the brush like shards of metal pellets. Simyaldee's shield flashed from the impact but held at one hundred percent. Even after several rounds from the strange archaic weapon, Simyaldee's shields still held.

The weapon's constant discharge was attracting the attention of several of the other creatures. Simyaldee had to silence it. He exploded forward, leaping out of the brush and stabbed his energy sword into the brute's chest. It roared in agony and dropped its weapon. Several of the other brutes witnessed the attack and immediately charged toward them.

Simyaldee opened his com, "Second, I will distract them and lead them away from the civilians. It seems my stealth needs more training."

The reply came over the same frequency. "We are not leaving you behind this time, young one. We shall sneak up behind them while they are districted by you."

Simyaldee pulled his blade from the creature's chest as two 'Brutes' sprinted toward him, snarling and carrying their hand daggers. "If this is your action, Jiralhanae, then you will find that the Sangheili shall never be bested in hand to hand combat." Simyaldee sprinted toward the two Brutes as more and more of them began to bear down upon his position. The first Brute pulled back his blade, stabbing downward but missed completely. Simyaldee severed his head with one strike. The second Brute tackled Simyaldee, sending them both careening backwards.

Simyaldee was shocked at the creature's strength. Strong was not the word that could describe the beast's power. The Brute punched him in the chest, depleting his shields to nearly fifty percent. The force from the blow cracked a rib, as the shield emitter could only resist the impact; not the force of it. Simyaldee gripped the Brute's punch hand and countered with his blade, severing the creatures arm from its torso. He kicked the beast off of him and stood to challenge another.

He lowered his stance as three Brutes divided at him. With two swings he cut down one of them, kicked another and parried the blade of the third. Swinging his blade in a low swinging arc he severed the legs of the second, but the first Brute dodged it. He then gripped his projectile weapon and fired a round at Simyaldee at point blank range. The force knocked Simyaldee off his feet and he tumbled backwards. He regained his stance and dashed toward the Brute as it frantically tried to hit him with the inaccurate weapon again.

Simyaldee had unknowingly increased his speed, and was dodging at the pace of a full sprint. He kicked the Brute in the jaw, lifting the creature several feet into the air, and as it seemed to float he spun and severed the creature's torso with his quickly depleting energy sword.

The other Brutes held their position. What they had just seen was mind-boggling. The creature, this Sangheili, had just killed seven of them single handedly. Not only that, but it looked as though their weapons were useless. This was their first ground battle against these Sangheili creatures and this was not the outcome they had predicted.

Simyaldee watched a blur fade in and out of view behind the Brutes, it was brief but he knew what it was, his brothers were moving in behind them. The creatures would never know what hit them and this platoon of Brutes would all be dead shortly.

Simyaldee yelled his Sangheili battle cry, and charged into the pack of the remaining Jiralhanae, blinded by the combat high that had completely consumed him. Vasmeola watched from the shadow of the tree line.

A small smile crept upon her face as she mumbled to herself, "He is mine. He sheds blood in a mindless storm of combat. Perhaps this is our nature… to kill. Even if it is our own that we kill. This is my only salvation I have left. This hope, that my actions are my own."

- - - - - - - -

The council chambers opened and a lone grunt trotted inside as fast as he could. His short legs were pumping in a clownish display of running, as his muffled mouth panted heavily. "Your holiness! Me get transmission!"

Truth raised his hand to the gathered council of Sangheili and Prophets, silencing them. "This had best be important, the council is in session."

"Me sorry, holiness. Message from Hierarch Prophet of Regret recon battle group. Many ships needed at Outpost World, new enemy encountered. Forces out numbered. Need help!"

One of the Elite councilors spoke up. "The recon group was sent to the outpost world? But that world should have been emptied days ago." The council began to mumble in question.

Truth waved his hand. "I was afraid this would happen. We have been in … negotiations with a new race for several days. We sent word to them that the outpost world would be vacated so that they could visually see the majesty of our Covenant. This is why I assembled this council meeting today. It seems that the Honorable Regret was misinformed of the timing of their arrival. They are the Jiralhanae, and we wish to have peace with them as well. Like all races we have encountered in our search for the sacred artifacts of our Gods, we will show them the true path of our Gods and show them the way to the Great Journey." It was a smooth lie, and now Truth needed to see if they would play into his game.

Another Elite councilor spoke. "But noble Truth, the Unggoy speaks that a battle is being waged. Our recon ships are being overpowered."

"Yes, this is not how our first meeting should commence." Truth nodded in agreement, but secretly he knew this would pass. The council had taken the bait. "Prepare the Amarda. I will go to the outpost world immediately."

The Migration had begun.

To be continued.