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.

9. House of Vas, Sangheili Hands

Section 9: House of Vas, Sangheili Hands

"Only a female can carry on the trait. Only a female can continue this bloodline." -- Excerpt from "Guardian of the Luminous Key"

"The Age of Reclamation"
The Truth and Reconciliation
Abandoned Covenant Armada Base of Operations
Location: Unknown
March 22, 2438 :: Sol Relative Time

The Spec Ops Division leader for the Fleet of Particular Justice, stepped down from the Phantom's landing ramp and rested. He sat upon the edge and hung his head low. He removed his helmet with a sulking grace and placed it at his side. The Spec Ops Commander was still inside, continuing the inspection. The Division Leader was in deep thought, as something had happened while they were on the ship.

One of the guard details for the Phantom approached him. "Sir, what is the problem?"

He looked up, his eyes heavy from a thought he could not share. "Nothing… nothing. Return to your station." The Spec Ops soldier looked at him and slowly obeyed. He turned and returned to his post, standing at the base of the ramp.

The familiar sound of hoofs clapping against the metal surface of the ramp filled their ears, and the Spec Ops guards, as well as the Division Leader, looked up to Commander Vadumee as he descended. The Spec Ops Commander stopped at the Division Leader's side and looked at him briefly.

"Warriors… take him away for further questioning." Commander Vadumee continued down the path. His poise was rock solid with no sign of doubt or regret. The Commander knew what had to be done. "If the Division Leader resists arrest… kill him."

The guards looked to the Spec Ops commander with a sense of doubt, not fully understanding their orders. The Division Leader had been in charge of them for many years, and to arrest a superior officer was not something easily done. His honor would be removed, his family name placed in question, tainting his bloodline even if he was proven innocent of whatever crime he was accused of.

"Commander… under what cause should we arrest our Division Leader?" The guard questioned. "Surely we can vouch for his…"

Vadumee spun around and glared at the soldier. His gaze cut into the warriors very soul. "He is to be charged with possible treason to the Covenant! And if you question my orders once again, you will join him! Does another family need to have their name dishonored this day?"

"No Commander… it is just that he…."

"He is your Division Leader! He was responsible for the duties of every Spec Ops warrior within this garrison! A Prophet was murdered under his watch… as well as thirteen of my Spec Ops! Their lives were all under his watch!" Vadumee calmed himself and stepped away from the warrior, a Spec Ops that just happened to be older than he was. "Arrest him. I have work to do." He turned and walked away.

The guard prepared to speak again, to continue protesting until the Commander understood that he could not dishonor the Division Leader in such a way, yet the Division Leader stood and placed a hand to his shoulder.

"It is alright." The Division Leaders stated with a heavy head. "He is not doing this of his own volition. There is no evidence of who the killer is or where he could be. The Prophets will not be pleased. This is the only thing we could agree on. If not me, then the whole of the Special Operations unit will be put to shame for this travesty."

"But sir…"

"No. The Commander is correct. Either one falls without honor, or we all fall." The Division Leader removed his weapons and his active camouflage pack from his armor. The guard was speechless, and simply watched as two other Spec Ops approached and led him toward the brig.

- - - - - - - -

"The Age of Reclamation"
Sangheili Ship hovering near Capital City
Outpost World
March 22, 2438 :: Sol Relative Time

The room fell silent. The eyes of Vasmeola's family all peered at the three warriors before them. The young males did not know of the Mirratord, or the Unwritten law, but Vasmeola knew of everything. Her father wanted to be sure that she knew the family past, and kept no secrets from his oldest daughter. Vasmeola's eyes slowly turned to face Simyaldee. He was still kneeling toward her from the corner of the room, his eyes cast downward most likely in deep thought.

He was still new to the Mirratord way, and though he had been accepted, he had not been fully indoctrinated into the group. There was so much Simyaldee did not understand. The fact that Vasmeola knew of the Mirratord, that her father was the originator of the idea, was only complicating the matter.

Vasmeaola stepped passed Balmaedee and M'atralee. She knelt in front of Simyaldee and cupped his hand. "If I had known …" She whispered. She knelt and lifted Simyaldee to his feet. "If you truly are the Mirratord, then you know that talking in my presence is forbidden."

Balmaedee shook off this dispute. "No. The House of Vas is our most honored of royal families. And you are the eldest and last to hold the knowledge of the Unwritten Mirratord Law. You must be taken to the council."

"No!" Simyaldee protested. "Doing so is not possible."

"He is correct." Vasmeola stated. Balmaedee watched them both, their movements and their gestures. He watched as Simyaldee slowly positioned himself in front of Vasmeola. The movement was subtle, yet obvious.

Balmaedee motioned toward them. "Despite what you two have been through in the past few days, there are things that must be done."

Vasmeola pleaded. "You do not understand. The Honor of my family is no longer as strong as it once was."

"I understand that the bloodline of the House of Vas has not been severed. I understand that you are the last female within your family. I understand that only you can continue your family name. What more do I need to understand?" Balmaedee pleaded to her, almost begging for her to explain herself. "We are your guard, princess. Your words will not leave this room."

Vasmeola, filled with shame, lowered her head and mumbled words that she thought to never speak again. "I …"

- - - - - - - -

Five years ago ….

The House of Vas
Outpost World
January 2433 :: Sol Relative Time

The screen dimmed as the power was turned off. Standing before it was an aged elder wearing traditional Sangheili garb. He stood motionless for several moments as he gathered his thoughts. His new home, a massive estate on the edge of the first city to be built on a conquered world, was empty. The sounds of birds echoed off the polished stone floor, singing their afternoon songs. Yet even this peaceful setting was not enough to calm him.

He motioned for the rear of the home, to the area where his young family was at play. He was the head of the House of Vas, the eldest in the clan. His name was Bro'vasleo. His young mate was watching over their three children as they played in the open field behind the house. He stopped at the outer porch and gazed at his young daughter and two younger brothers. They joyfully wrestled in the field, though there mother begged for Vasmeola to stop, as it was not a female's nature to wrestle with the boys. Bro'vasleo chuckled. She had always been more into the ways of young warriors than any female in the House of Vas. She had even shown interest in being a Watchman. Yet as a female it would be nearly impossible for her to achieve such a thing, unless she had the training to make her better than all of her class. The master would train her, and he would make her the best warrior in the Armada.

Bro'vasleo gritted his mandibles tightly in frustration. He wanted his first born daughter to be happy, regardless of tradition. He was an Elder for the Elite High Council, and he would not have his daughter's wishes blown away because of the silly traditions of his kin. But the thought took him back to his communication with the Master. The Master had told him no.

"My dear, you seem so tense."

Bro'vasleo was suddenly pulled out of his focus as his young mate embraced him. "Yes. I was just refused by the Master."

"This is a good thing." His young mate replied. "Our daughter is of Royal Blood. She has no place in a class of Watchmen or at the Master's camp. She will be a lady of Royalty, and will carry on the bloodline of the Vas House."

"But that is not what she wants…"

"She is a child. She grew up under your watchful eye. What more could you expect? She only knows of the tales of Warriors, war, and of course her Grandfather's legacy."

Bro'vasleo smirked. "Father was the Arbiter, my dear. He is the reason you live so lavishly."

"And I thank him for it. Yet do you think he would approve of your attempting to get her into the Academy? No he would not. As far as we know, she may be the last female of our family, the last to carry on our bloodline. If she joins the military…"

Bro'vasleo turned to her and peered into her eyes. "Who says she has to be the last female?" The two of them laughed and he picked the small female up and carried her into the house, leaving the children outside to play.

The next day, Bro'vasleo found himself on the edge of a dirt path, staring into a camp of small huts and buildings. Young Sangheili males paraded around the camp, running drills and sparring against one another. This was the camp that young males who were considered to hard to train were taken. Here they were broken, given focus, and turned into the best of the Sangheili warriors. For ten years this camp had been pushing out the best soldiers in the armada, though they never spoke of their training here.

Bro'vasleo stepped into the camp watching as the young trainers stopped their students' workout and made them bow respectfully. They all continued immediately afterwards, but it was good that he was still recognized as an elder, even without the armor or robe.

As he neared the center of the camp he spotted the old warrior that was considered the master. He nodded from afar and stopped several feet away. The warrior with no name watched him closely and huffed. He gave one last order to one of the trainers and approached Bro'vasleo.

"Elder, what do I owe the honor?"

"Do not speak as if you do not know why I am here." Bro'vasleo stated smoothly. "May we speak away from the children's ears?" They walked away from the young so they could speak easily without being heard, yet close enough so that the Master could watch over his camp.

"If this is still about your daughter…"

Bro'vasleo interrupted. "You know that it is. She has our bloodline, she has our mind, what more do you need?"

"She should be baring children, not killing them. Only a female can carry on the bloodline of our legacy. You would risk that by allowing her to join the Covenant ranks?"

Bro'vasleo huffed as he shifted in place. "I know her role, but why should she be burdened with such a duty? She has the calling of a warrior. She wishes to see combat and protect the lives of the Sangheili. You can make her the best."

The master looked into the camp. "Do you know what you have created in this camp? Killers! These warriors will fight to the death, killing our enemies and our ally's alike if need be."

"I funded this camp, these buildings, and sponsored you to lead it. All I ask is that you give her a chance." Bro'vasleo pleaded.

The master looked to him oddly. "Are you listening to me? Females should not kill, they should nurture and cherish, to love and know medicine, to heal and bring up the young. They should not know combat or the brutality of killing another. Do you really want to see your daughter's hand stained with blood? It has been many years since you have seen combat. Have you forgotten how brutal it is to the heart and mind?"

He stepped closer to Bro'vasleo and looked at him sternly, forcing his words into the elders head so that he would understand. "She is your daughter and I understand the desire to give her everything she could want, but if you do this she will no longer be your daughter. She will be a killer, and if she's good enough… the council will take her and use her for their will. Perhaps if she were of a different house I would consider training her. I am quite curious to see what your daughter can do, but as a female child from the House of Vas, I will never let her train for combat. Her bloodline is too pure. When Elder Barremee joined the council things changed. His bloodline was and is considered the last. We can not risk the news of your daughter spreading."

Bro'vasleo sighed heavily. "I understand that, but it is not her fault that she was born this way. This is more than a father doting upon his daughter. She has more passion to enter the Academy then my sons. Me and my mate intend to try and have another female, but Vasmeola has the desire and the heart of a warrior. How can I deny her this? She will reach the age of the Watchman in two years, and I can not stand the idea of telling her no. She will not be the first female to enter the academy. Many females have gone before her and led soldiers into battle. She knows that it will be hard for her, she has heard many tales of females who have successfully become soldiers, but this is her dream. Since she reached the age of knowing what the Academy is, that is all she has desired. As her father, can I deny her the one thing she wants the most?"

"You do know what the council will say if you take her to the Academy?"

"I am not afraid of the council. I know that they will take her, and use her, but upon becoming a Watchman she will have the right to decide her own path… she will… she will be an adult."

"And no longer be your daughter." The master sighed heavily as he folded his arms upon his chest. "She will be taken by the Covenant to become their instrument, and the council will take her into the Mirratord. There will be nothing you can do, not even as an elder, to persuade them away from their actions. Her bloodline is pure, Bro'vasleo. She will become a member of the Mirratord if she enters the Academy. If this does not scare you away from this idiotic pursuit, than nothing will."

Several days pass, several days of thought and torment upon an old mind. Bro'vasleo sat up from his rest and faced a new morning. His mate slept idle by his side. He journeyed into the distant room and powered on his communications panel.

With a deep inhale he began to record. "To the High Council, from the eldest son of the House of Vas. This is Elder Bro'vasleo head elder of the outpost world. I hereby declare that in two years I will be taking my first born to the Parade of the Watchmen. It will be a proud moment for me and the House of Vas." He paused to gather his thoughts; how to word this correctly.

"It will be a difficult day for the House of Vas, as many of you can understand. For my first born will not be welcomed without smirks and glares from the other Watchmen. Yet I ask that you, the members of the High Council, understand that this is something that I can not deny my first born. Regardless of your reply, my fist born will march in that Parade." He pressed a button upon the display, ending the recording. He then pressed several more strokes and the recording was sent to the High Council on Dorenth. It would take several days to reach the Elite home planet, but none the less he knew they would respond without delay. He turned and began to dress and made his way to his children's room.

Softly he spoke to his oldest, "Vasmeola, wake up. It is time to begin your training."

For several days they trained, Vasmeola shed her sweat and blood all with the desire of entering the Academy and living up to the legend of her grandfather, the Arbiter. They would get up early at dawns earliest light, and venture into the fields behind their home. Here her father showed her the weapons of the Sangheili; the plasma pistol, the rifle, and the carbine. These were worthy weapons of any soldier, but none more than the Energy Sword. Vasmeola looked at it with awe, but this was not a weapon she would be able to handle until many years into her career as a soldier.

It was on the evening of her fifth day of training that she was discovered by her mother. "Vasmeola! Stop this, now!"

Bro'vasleo stood between them. "My dear, she must be ready for the parade. She must be skilled in all verses of combat. If she is not she will not be able to graduate from the Academy. She must be the best."

"Are you insane?" She questioned her mate. "She is your only daughter…"

"I am the head of this house!" Bro'vasleo roared, calming her retort. Vasmeola also shied away. She had never heard her father shout in such a way. "She is my child, and this is her dream."

His mate lowered her head, but still spoke her peace. "And when this house is mocked because of your deeds, I hope you will be ready to clean it up. A message arrived today from the Council, it was marked urgent." She turned and walked back into the house.

Vasmeola shuffled to her father's side. Her skin patched with dried dirt and sweat. "Will mother accept this?"

"No my child. Your mother comes from a long line of royalty. She can not understand why you would choose to enter the Academy, and why I encourage it. She does not know the heart of a warrior. Go clean yourself before dinner. We will start again in the morning." Vasmeola happily ran off to bathe, while her father slowly walked into the house. He was curious about the message and wondered what the council would say. He journeyed to the terminal and sealed the door to the room. He opened the voice message a saw that it was encrypted. He used his command password and the message began.

"From the Elite High Council to the eyes of Elder Bro'vasleo, Head Elder of the Outpost Worl.

"It has been many years since we have spoken with you brother, and many things have happened since your last report. Those trained in the law not written, are starting to shine. We have much to look forward to from them. However, we are somewhat confused by your decision. Is not your first born child a female? We ask that you reconsider this act. A female in the Academy will bring much attention to your House. The form of attention we can not afford you to have. If she stands out, which is possible considering her bloodline, it will raise many questions into the House of Vas. You do understand that this could lead to many things, including evidence of the training camp. We can not allow this, Bro'vasleo. Reconsider… we beg of you. Think beyond your father's pride, and see the bigger picture."

The transmission ended, and Bro'vasleo turned off the recording. He deleted the file and walked into the dinning area with his family. He tossed the words from the High Council out of his mind, and enjoyed his evening supper.

Outpost World
June 2435 :: Sol Relative Time

Two years came and went, two hard years of teaching Vasmeola, and his two oldest males, the basics of combat. Soon his oldest two sons would be able to walk in the Parade of the Watchmen, but now it Vasmeola's turn. Bro'vasleo knew it would not be an easy day for his family, but he had prepared everything as best he could. He pulled on his armor, the silver and red of the High Council, and tossed on his cloak. He picked up his helmet and watched as the eyes of his children glowed before him. They had never seen him dawn his Covenant armor, and the site was awe inspiring.

As the head f the Council on the Outpost World, Bro'vasleo would speak at the ceremony and lead the parade of Watchmen through the city streets and to the Academy gates. From that moment on the Watchmen would be in the hands of the instructors. It would be up to the teachers and instructors to decide who would be permitted into the Academy. Vasmeola's fate was no longer in his hands. Bro'vasleo was concerned if he had done enough to prepare her? Had the Master trained her she would have been easily accepted, as none of his students are rejected, but being a female will instantly make it difficult for her.

Bro'vasleo pulled on his massive helmet. It was decorated with a large outstretching headdress that curved back and upward into a U shape. This was the sign of the Sangheili High Council, and he wore it with pride. Yet a part of him knew that his role would change very soon. Once the other councilors see his daughter in the parade, they would not hesitate to react. With a toss of his left hand, he pulled down one strip of his red cloak over his right shoulder and strode down the hall.

"Father." Came Vasmeola's voice. Bro'vasleo looked to his first born and smiled. She had matured in stature, grown to her full height of nearly seven feet, and she was nicely toned. There was no mistaking her as a female, yet she looked capable of handling herself in combat. She wore the colors of the Watchmen, loose fitting white clothes and a red belt, as she smiled happily. "You look incredible." She gleefully admired her father's armor, the armor of an Elite Councilman.

"This armor is old, and clumsy, unlike the armor used by true warriors. It is only for political purposes that we wear it. Yet your grandfather, his armor was legendary. Perhaps one day, when you join the military, you will see the armor of the Arbiter inside the Mausoleum." He turned and began to leave the house. "I will see you in the parade. Do not be late."

"I will not, father." Vasmeola stood at the door and watched as her father walked into the city. Massive ships lingered overhead in the distance as Seraph and Banshee fighters danced in the sky. Today was a celebration, and across every Elite world the atmosphere was the same, today was a day when the Prophet's stepped aside and let the Elite's celebrate the birth right of their young.

Vasmeola trembled with excitement, in a few hours she would also be walking the streets too cheers from her kin. Though she had to accept that there would be many who would protest her walk, she was a female and a females place was not in combat. But she would prove them wrong. She had to.

Bro'vasleo arrived at the central plaza, and as expected he was not welcomed with open arms. Despite all the cheering and festivities happening around them, several of the councilmen at his side seemed bitter. Yet one of them didn't care.

"Welcome brother." Bro'vasleo's long time friend stated. "I assume you can sense their tension."

"Yes. They are worried that I will let my daughter walk today." Bro'vasleo softly replied.

"I must warn you, there has been mentioning of someone throwing stones at your daughter. I doubt it will happen, merely a scare tactic."

"There would be much shame on the name of someone who did such a deed."

"Yes. I am sure it is only a rumor, to make you do something you may regret. However, you should still be weary. The council is not happy about this. Think of the weight she carries upon her. The council has asked nicely…"

"When I last checked, I was the head elder on this Outpost. And as such, my word is law. I was voted as Head Elder by all of them, and now they look upon me as if I am their enemy."

"But you do understand what is at risk…"

"More than anyone, brother." Bro'vasleo stepped toward the podium as several Seraph fighters hovered in the distance. The rest of the council took their positions at the side of the podium and Bro'vasleo lifted his arms into the air. "Let the Parade of the Watchmen commence!"

The Seraphs accelerated over the city, streaking in an arrow formation toward the gathering crowd of young Elite warriors that began to huddle together. Vasmeola looked into the sky just as the fighters banked overhead, the parade had begun. She was surrounded by young males, some taller and some shorter than she was, but all were dressed the same. They happily waved into the crowd that surrounded the streets. Family members, spectators and even soldiers from the fleet had come to pay their respect to the future Elite warriors.

Vasmeola happily chuckled with the other young at her side, they didn't care that she was a female, but there were a few older pre-teens in the parade. These older males had washed out during the last parade, and did not become watchmen. They had to wait another year to enter the academy, and they understood the differences in a male and female. They knew she didn't belong, and eyed her menacingly. She ignored them and waved to the crowd as they continued down the streets to the tune of trumpets and drums. Confetti flapped to the streets as the massive ensemble of youths made there way closer to the academy.

The crowd began to thin as the parade was near its completion and the remaining spectators watched in silence. This crowd was much different then the earlier stretch of the parade, it was now mostly soldiers and councilmen that stood at the street's edge. Vasmeola looked ahead, and she could see the gates of the Academy courtyard ahead. The towering gates stood more then twenty feet high and stretched at least fifty feet wide. Perched atop the two support columns for the gate were two heavily armed instructors, each holding a spear and wearing golden armor that was stripped with red accents. They gazed into the crowd of young as if they were looking for someone. They randomly pointed into the front of the crowd, and two Elites would race into the group of youths and pull several of them out of the parade. This was unexpected, but soon Vasmeola heard her father's voice.

"Before the gates shall part. The honored leaders of this academy will chose those who are impure for this class."

It was a visual entrance test. Vasmeola was worried, but she dared not show them fear. The honored leaders were looking for something, a visual key that told them you were not ready to walk into the academy grounds. She wasn't going to fail. She would at least make it into the Academy, she had too. Vasmeola watched the other young at her side. They were nervous, their heads were low. But the older males in the parade held their heads high, bold and not afraid. She would take their visual cue. She held her stance and tightened her mandibles firmly as she watched the honored leaders continue to pick random youths. The eyes of the honored washed over her and they both glared at her sternly.

She froze.

For Elites within the Covenant there were only several roles: A soldier, a breeder, Royalty, or farmer. Only the higher class warriors earned the right to call themselves Elders, or to sit upon the High Council. Even Royalty was not guaranteed unless you were born in the right family, and Farmers were not allowed to do anything aside from learn medicine and terraforming; preparing an uninhabitable world for colonizing. But one thing was for sure, as a watchman in the Parade you were nothing. You had no place, no rank and no bloodline.

The white clothes represented a fresh start. It was the traditions of the Elites, that when they began there years as a Watchman, they had to forget their familial ties, and relearn their life. The red belt was a sign of unity with the ancient Elite ways. Red was the color of their bond to the past.

So many thoughts raced through her head as she watched the honored leader raise his hand. So many thoughts of why she was being pointed out, why she was not going to be able to see inside the courtyard of the Academy. She felt his finger upon her heart, as if he had climbed down from his perch and placed his finger directly upon her. Within seconds she was gripped by an armored male, yet her eyes never left the Honored leaders gaze. She was protesting his decision, though she never spoke a word.

Their eyes locked.

Was he pressured into removing her because she was a female? Did they not think she was worthy? Was there more to this than merely appearing ready? She was pulled clear of the crowd of youths and left standing at the side of the street. More and more youths were pulled from the crowd and made to watch. Some cried, some showed there frustration by storming away from the parade area, yet they could not leave. They had to watch, they must watch. Vasmeola kept her head high and she showed no weakness, unlike the other children.

Soon the gates parted, and the young watchmen entered. The doors remained open as the last of the parade vanished around the bend. That was when things began to get interesting. The two honored leaders jumped from the top of their perch and walked toward the center of the street. They smashed the end of their staffs upon the ground and they sparked with a puff of dust. Mumbles began to fill the crowd of on looking soldiers, as if they knew what was to come.

Vasmeola overheard the soldier behind her speak. "A week's worth of rations say it will be less than three this year."

"I will take that bet. A lot of them wept in frustration. Not to mention this young female. She showed no fear or remore." The two soldiers chuckled. They indeed know what was going to happen.

From inside the gate walked a large male, decorated in a long flowing cloak much like Vasmeola's father, but his helmet was not as decorated. His armor was gold and his cloak was a darker red then that of the Council. He walked between the two honored leaders of the Academy and huffed.

"I am the Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Divine Light. And now the Honored Leaders will choose those who have been called to lead." The young elites gasped. "Some of you were picked because you displayed something that was lacking in the others. However, some of you were picked because you are not ready."

The two honored walked away from the Supreme Commander, walking to the left and right respectfully. They walked around inspecting the children they had pointed out. They stopped at certain children and growled over them, testing their poise. None of the young backed away.

The first honored spoke, "I choose the young from the House of Maz, to lead this year's academy class as First Chair." Roars of approval came from their family as the young male stepped back into the street.

The Supreme Commander spoke, "Stand at my side young one." The young male gracefully strode toward the Supreme Commander. "Why is he your choice?"

The honored spoke, "His eyes are filled with fire. He has a questioning nature, and he calmed several of the young who seemed afraid. For now, he has what could be a leader's persona.

"Then it shall be so." The Supreme Commander stated.

The second honored spoke, "I recall the young from the House of Yam." Cheerfully the young male exhaled. The Supreme commander summoned him forward.

The first honored added, "I recall the young from the House of Tam." This continued for three more young, of the nearly thirty that were pulled from the parade. Then the two stopped at Vasmeola. She looked at them without much hesitation, only hoping to hear them call her name. They were both clearly debating within themselves on how to proceed.

And then the first spoke, "I recall the young from the House of Vas."

Her heart stopped. Mumbles from the crowd turned into outright protest from the councilmen on the side of the street. She stepped forward but the noise from the crowd grew defining.

"Silence!" The Supreme Commander roared. "This is the Honored Leaders' decision! None of you have any say in the matter! She is not the first female to enter any of our Academies and she will not be the last."

Several of the council man stepped into the street, making their presence known. "Choose another."

The Supreme Commander bowed in respect yet held his reason. "Elders, this is most unacceptable. My voice is but a sign of strength for the Academy, not even I can persuade the choice of the Leaders."

"Honored Leaders, you must choose another. She can not be permitted into the Academy." Stated another elder.

"What is the meaning of this?" Bro'vasleo stepped into the street as a deep growl filed his throat. He glared at the two elders that spoke out against his daughter. "What ill do you have against the House of Vas that you would deny a child her right? It is not written that she can not enter the Academy!"

The first Honored spoke, "High Elder, do not fret. Our decision is final. I recall the youth from the House of Vas!"

"So be it." The Supreme Commander smiled to young Vasmeola and waved her forward. The other young elites at his side happily waited for Vasmeola to join them, however, she was gripped by an elder's hand; the same elder that Bro'vasleo called a friend.

He held up a data pad and showed it to the Honored leaders. "Forgive me, Bro'vasleo. You pushed us into revealing this hand. We did all we could to stop you." Bro'vasleo stormed toward Vasmeola and his friend and pulled his arm off of her.

The Honored grabbed the pad and read its message, with shock written upon his face. "Remove this child from these grounds!" The crowd fell silent; shocked at the turn of events.

"What is it?" Bro'vasleo held Vasmeola's hand and approached the Honored. The honored shamefully gave him the pad.

The honored spoke, "That concludes the Parade. For those of you who were not accepted, remember what you have learned and return next year." The honored, the young and the Supreme Commander walked back into the gate as it slowly shut.

Two elders stepped from the crowd and sternly looked at Bro'vasleo as he read the data. "Elder Bro'vasleo, we demand that you step down from the council immediately. For your service to the covenant and this Outpost World, we will not charge you with any contempt, however…"

"A … traitor?" Bro'vasleo questioned as he dropped the data pad. "This can not be."

"… the name of Vas has no position in the Sangheili Council. Your status has been revoked."

Vasmeola was infuriated and picked up the data pad, curious about its contents.

-- From his Holiness the Prophet of Mercy.

To the Hierarchs of Truth and Regret.

"The Actions of the Unggoy have shown us that they are determined to thwart our Covenant. The Unggoy King has completely turned his kin against us, all because they chose to follow the advisements of an uninformed Sangheili? The Unggoy are rioting in the halls of High Chairty. Do they really think they can earn their freedom by doing something so reckless?

"It is as I warned. Letting the Unggoy sit upon the council was ill-advised. And now, they turn against us for the sake of freedom? The Unggoy king was advised by one of the Sangheili's most respected Field Masters, it was his words that started this Rebellion and therefore I will promptly end his command. Also, I will do something far more useful. If this Field Master respects his house, than he will do what is right, he will end this Rebellion and return the Covenant to peace.

"He will dawn the armor of the Arbiter, for his family's sake. His house, the House of Vas, will know him , hidden behind the facade of the Sangheili Hero. He will fight, or we will dishonor his family name and reveal him to be the traitor he is. He will be branded for this treason, but no one will know his crime. But let it be documented. The Head of the House of Vas will die as a traitor to the Covenant, but a hero to his kin." --

"Father… no. No! This is not real! It can not be!" Vasmeola dropped the pad and stomped on it, smashing it beneath her hoofs. She pulled away from her father and ran toward his friend, the one that first dawned the data pad. Yet before she could get close she was grabbed by a young guard.

"Calm yourself, Princess. Show honor even in this dark time."

She ignored him and screamed toward the elder. "Why are you lying? Why would you do this to our honor? Our family?"

"Take what little honor you have and be gone from our site, young one!" He replied. "Balmaedee, remove them from the Parade grounds!"

Though she fought against Balmaedee, she could not hope to free herself or cared about his identity. Her blood curling anger was without satisfaction as she was left at the door of her home. Her father sat silently in the entrance. His helmet had been taken from him and his cloak torn.

"Forgive me, Vasmeola. I did not know they would go to this extent."

"He was not a traitor." Vasmeola mumbled. "Grandfather was the Arbiter… they lied."

"No. He did what he believed was the correct course of action for renewed support with the Unggoy. He often spoke highly of them, yet… I never knew why he did not return from the council meeting." Vasmeola wept softly to herself, as footsteps approached them from the street.

Vasmeola's mother stood upon the path to the door with her young at her side. "What have you done? I watched it all… the shame, the humiliation. You could not leave it alone! Now what will we do? Our name carries no weight or honor. How will we eat? What do our children have to look forward to?"

Bro'vasleo stood and began to walk into the house. "This is not the time…"

"No! You have doomed our family! You will not walk away from me!" She followed him into the house leaving their children sitting on the porch. Vasmeola continued to softly sob, not because of her being refused from the Academy, but because of what she learned of her grandfather. She buried her head into her lap and felt the embrace of her two brothers; the oldest. Together they sat, ignoring the screams coming from inside their home. Their newborn brother gripped Vasmoela leg and she reached down picked him up. She cradled the youngest in her arms as the four of them sat alone.

Outpost World
April 2437 :: Sol Relative Time

Another two years pass, they were hard years for Vasmeola and her family, and suddenly came the news that the planet was going be evacuated. Bro'vasleo, already angry, turned his torment toward the Outpost World High Council.

"Why are we being forced to leave?" Bro'vasleo questioned in a general assembly meeting. "We farmed, we sweat, we turned the terrain of this world into something useful, but now the Prophets say we must leave? Explain to us why?"

The new head elder spoke. "The Council understands your question, brother. Yet we have no answers to give to you. Our orders are simple and they came with the Sangheili High Council's consent. We are to begin evacuation procedures immediately. All civilians will be taken back to Dorenth, the mother land, and we have less than one year to complete it."

"What of this years Academy students?" Another civilian questioned. "Will there be one more year of Prospects?"

"Yes. There will be one more group of Watchmen before the Academy closes." The elder raised his hand to end the questions. "As you all know, it is not easy to evacuate an entire world, however the Holy Prophets have given us much time to do what must be done. I advise all of you to now return to your families, see to it that the transition is well received. This adjourns this meeting." The crowd rose from their seating, yet Bro'vasleo sat patiently. He knew that the meeting was over, but the discussions would continue amongst the councilors. He needed to speak with them.

He stood and walked toward the councilmen's table. "High Elder, a word if you please."

"We have nothing to discuss, Bro'vasleo."

Bro'vasleo looked around assuring that no one could hear. "Have you unleashed the Unwritten Law?"

The elders acted as though they did not know what he meant. "Bro'vasleo, you speak in riddles. Be gone, go to your family and…"

"You know damned well what I mean!" He slammed his fist upon the table, but quickly calmed his fury. "This is another backstabbing act of the Prophets. I created that law exactly for this moment! Unleash them! Why are the Prophets evacuating us…" Bro'vasleo froze as he felt a tight grip upon his shoulder. He turned his head and glared into the eyes of a young, yet strong, Elite soldier. He wore the purple bars of the Mirratord upon his black armor.

The new head elder softly stated, "As I said, go home to your family, Bro'vasleo. Maintain what little honor you have left, and protect your child. We are doing what MUST be done." He nodded toward the Mirratord officer, and the young warrior backed away. Bro'vasleo turned fully around and saw nothing. All traces of the Mirratord warrior had vanished, like a ghost. "Do as you are told, for once Bro'vasleo. Think of your family."

The walk home was long, and arguably the longest walk in Bro'vasleo's life. His position was lost, and returning to Dorenth would mean returning to nothing. He no longer had the honor to move into the Inner Sanctum along with the other retired elders, but he also did not have the support to build a new home, and work to rebuild his name. He had lost everything. Without his title and the honor that came with it, he was nothing less than a commoner.

Vasmeola sat upon the front entryway as he approached, and could sense the pain on his face. "What happened at the meeting?"

"Nothing."

"That is exactly what I thought you would say." She chuckled. "You've been very depressed lately, father, and I will not accept your answers. Now, tell me. What happened today?"

"The Unwritten Law has been unleashed." He sat upon the steps leading to the door. Vasmeola sat at his side.

"Then, this is good. It means that you still have respect in the council's eyes."

"No. What I saw today, what I saw in that young warriors eyes… it was bloodlust. Tamed and controlled, but none the less it was bloodlust. He would have killed me had I continued to protest."

"But father, you said the Unwritten Law was going to protect us? Did they threaten you?"

"No. They merely showed me the product of my dreams. It was a killer, a killer that would do anything to maintain an idea. What I saw was not of the Covenant or of the Sangheili race. It was… by the Gods, I can not find the words. What have I created? What is the Mirratord?"

The front door opened and Bro'vasleo's mate walked through. "Vasmeola, walk with me to the market. There are some things I need for supper."

"Father and I have things to discuss."

Her mother sighed heavily. "You are not a soldier, you are not a medical trainee. You are a female, like myself, and the last female in this family. You need to learn housekeeping and how to prepare yourself for the coming change. You will not find a suitable mate by talking with your father."

"Mother!" Vasmeola was torn that she spoke so arrogantly of her father.

"It is alright." Bro'vasleo stated. He smiled softly toward her. "Go with your mother. But I will tell you both this, you will hear words of evacuation this evening. I am sure it will be the topic of choice. But know this, we are not leaving."

"I understand father. We shall talk more when I return."

"No, you will not." Her mother walked on. "You will learn to turn a deaf ear to him soon enough."

Vasmeola sorrowfully ran after her mother, "Why do you talk that way toward him? If you are angry with anyone, be angry with me. Father has had to deal with enough torment. At least let him come home and be happy."

"Happy? We were happy, until he got the foolish notion to enlist his daughter in the grand crusade. Foolish, old Sangheili!"

After arriving at the market, Vasmeola and her mother took their position in line. Generally when they arrived at a table of meats or produce, they were able to jump to the head of the line and offered the freshest of the supply, but now things were different. Without the title and honor of being in an elder's household, they were no longer privileged to the prime stock. Like the rest of the commoners, they were left with day old meats and sometimes older.

The food they received was based on services that Vasmeola's mother attended to during the day. She was once royalty and as such she catered to politicians and served inside the High Council chambers, but now she was reduced to washing clothes for the council, and delivering their food supplies. None the less it was work and the only means to gain food for her family. Like all elite commoners, she worked to eat. Bartering was a way of life.

Before long they made the trek back home, but Vasmeola's mother was still bitter. "No!" Bro'vasleo's mate furiously yelled. "We are leaving and going back to Dorenth! I will take the children and live with my Family. At least their Honor has not been tainted by you!"

He roared, tossed the table aside and gripped her firmly. He pressed her against the wall and shouted, "You will do as I say! I am the head of this house, and I do not trust the Prophets! We will stay here!"

"We have no house because of you!" She was frightened, but her anger outweighed her fears. Vasmeola grabbed her brothers and lead them into the back of the house, away from their feuding parents.

"Stay here. Watch after our brothers. I will be back soon." She told the oldest. He nodded, and Vasmeola ran back to the fight.

Through all his attempts to intimidate his mate, she would not back down. She forcefully struck Bro'vasleo in frustration. She bit, clawed and kicked, without much retaliation. Bro'vasleo snarled as loud as he could, pushed at her back, and roared in a dominating fashion, but his mate was well beyond respecting his dominance. Soon, he gave up, and let her hit him as much as she wanted.

She was, in all respects, entitled to take the children and leave. The Elites shared monogamous relationships, but the females chose their mates based on what they could provide them. Bro'vasleo no longer had the honor and strength that he once carried. He had lost her. A part of him was beginning to believe her. Perhaps he was wrong. The honor they lost was his fault. She had stopped hitting him and he looked up to see why, and that was when he noticed that she had gripped his Plasma Rifle.

"What are you doing?"

"Earning back my honor!" She roared. "I am done with you. I will find another mate, one who is not as blinded like you and the legacy of your traitorous father. I will regain my pride…" The static hiss of energy was clearly recognizable and the searing of flesh, unmistakable. The blade exited her chest and she dropped the rifle.

Bro'vasleo jumped forward and cupped his mate in his arms as she slowly fell forward. "No… no… why… what did you do?" He looked into Vasmeola's eyes as she slowly pulled the sword from her mother's back. He glared deeply into her eyes, deeper then he thought he would ever see. Her eyes were emotionless, cold, like the Mirratord warrior he had seen earlier in the day. It was the same. Her eyes were the same.

"Why! Why would you do this?" He painfully roared at his child. "She was your mother!"

"She wanted to divide us. She threatened to kill you, father! And she slandered the name of Grandfather. I obeyed the law… your law." Her eyes slowly began to flood with tears; as the pain of killing her mother filled her. "She hated you. Yet you loved this family. You did everything you could to make us all happy."

Bro'vasleo lowered his mate's body to the floor and slapped the sword from Vasmeola's hand. He then palmed her face and pushed her across the room. She tumbled backward and rocked to her feet.

"Hate me if you wish, father. But I did what I had to, what must be done!" She wept, even with her stern voice, she wept. "Grandfather was the Arbiter, and you said that he had a reason for what he did."

"She was my love! My mate! If she wanted to kill me then it was her choice!" He crumbled to his knees, painfully sobbing over his fallen mate, and the idea that she was killed by his daughter. Had he not taught Vasmeola how to fight, none of this would have happened."

- - - - - - - -

The present…

"The Age of Reclamation"
Sangheili Ship hovering near Capital City
Outpost World
March 22, 2438 :: Sol Relative Time

Vasmeola curled up in the corner of the room, as all eyes followed her. Her younger brothers had never heard the full story, believing that father accidentally killer their mother in a blind rage. That was acceptable, as it had been known for ex-warriors to loose their control, but this was unimaginable.

She continued. "Shortly after we took mother's body into the field. Father buried her with his own hands. He cried throughout the night, and barely had the energy to care about anything after that. He feared that the District Prophet would eventually learn of the dead, and so we left the house and moved into a farming community. We left everything behind. Father was found by a patrol party several days later. I'm sure it was just coincidence that they found us like that. Rumor was spreading of many Sangheili disspearing, only to turn up dead miles away from their homes. Father was released because he provided them with what information he knew."

Vasmeola sat motionless in the corner. She pulled her knees into her chest and dared not too look back at the others. "This is why I can not go back. The House of Vas, is truly without honor."

- - - - - - - -

"The Age of Reclamation"
The Truth and Reconciliation
Abandoned Covenant Armada Base of Operations
Location: Unknown
March 22, 2438 :: Sol Relative Time

"And?" The elder questioned softly toward the Spec Ops Commander.

"He agreed. He will take the fall for this, but not the act. He will be reported as having let a murder escape. He will be publicly branded, and imprisoned." Vadumee rubbed his eyes as he hated what he had to do. He had to protect the Mirratord actions, but sacrifice the life another.

"We will stay his execution, though his identity will revoked." The Elder spoke. "We will find a way to relocate him to a different division, under another name. He will rejoin your ranks, as a Spec Ops sub commander." The elder placed his hand upon Vadumee's shoulder. "This honorable soldier will not fall, though branded, he will live."

"How, surely the Prophets will not accept that."

"Do not worry, Commander. As the Mirratord have their ways of doing things, we Councilors have our ways as well. We will have his sentence pardoned. Once he is branded he will be taken to the prison. You will meet him and take him to your ship. Give him the name… Kusovai, and rejoin the Armada."

"Kusovai?" Vadumee pondered. "His honorific is that of a novice… in the Spec Ops? Not many will accept this."

"True, but the House of Sov is skilled and has a distinguished reputation in the military. Now, moving on to our next topic; Rin Simyaldee. Do you think he will be ready?"

Vadumee smirked, slightly at ease that an excellent soldier will be spared. "Yes, Simyaldee will be ready. I know this better than anyone. And if he is not, then I will make him be ready."

To be Continued.

---

NOTE: Things are starting to slow down at this point. Only 3 chapters left (give or take) as I roll out the conclusion. Also, Book 3 will begin swiftly at the completion of the Mirratord. members can head over to the IIWYH thread in New Mombasa and read why I'm starting early. Till next time, Happy holidays and a wonderful new year.

soulguard