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Halo: Shadows of Hope

Chapter 5: Of Spartans and Scheming

UNSC Wild Endeavour

Status: En route to planet Hope, Chi Mu System

"That is all. Any queries?"

-029 knew that he was, for all intents and purposes, asking a rhetorical question. He, his four counterparts before him and all the other members of his kind currently in service had had just as much training understanding orders as delivering them. Probably more, all things considered. More often than not, they were following the orders of their superiors and on the rare occasion that they did give orders, it only took one to do it.

Truly efficient, he thought, permitting himself a small smile that he knew could not be seen past his polarized visor. As it should be.

The Spartan-II wasn't sure whether order begat efficiency or vice versa but chose instead to focus on the results, the four other soldiers making up Green Team standing silently in line, the silence providing the answer that no, there weren't any queries with their current mission. To emerge in the Chi Mu System at approximately 17-1800 hours standard time, find out the reason why the slipstream package was sent and if necessary, deal with the reason. A simple plan which was easy to carry out, at least in theory. Unfortunately, there was a word in that sentence that -029 didn't like and sure as hell wasn't "simple".

Simplicity had begun to lose its sway nowadays. Every one of them had started off in a team of three, then working up into squads of five and so on and so forth. The size of their units had to be scaled back after augmentation of course, the grand total of seventy-five super soldiers being effectively scaled down to thirty-three in a couple of weeks. Bonds had been broken and had to be readjusted, the color coded squads being reformatted. At least, that was how it would have worked in theory. Instead, with rapidly changing battlelines and planets dropping like flies at the mercy of a mad housewife (whatever that was), the S-II squads had to change at every interval. Hell, what made Green Team at this point in time was just a group of five S-IIs who made it onto the same bloody ship.

Maybe that's the reason for the silence… -029 thought silently. We're heading for the unknown, our squad made up of a group of strangers who have little to no experience in fighting alongside each other, not to mention that the only given in this operation is that space combat is to be expected.

He suppressed a small shudder. -034 had set a precedent almost a decade ago that space combat was taboo. -029 suspected that even a decade later, that taboo would still be maintained in all of their sub-consciousness.

The squad leader studied the four other members of his unit, seeking to gauge whether their silence was driven more by understanding or unease. Gauging -044, designation Green 2 was a lost cause. -029 had never worked with him before and given Green 2's proficiency as a field scout, he doubted that many had. He could only hope that he had skills other than solitary operations.

-029 steadily shifted his gaze to the right, skimming over -093, designation Green 3, and in turn Green 4 and Green 5, designations -030 and -039 respectively. In principle, -029 knew that he had little to worry about. The pair had served together in numerous engagements and were therefore in sync. Nothing to worry about there.

Supposedly at least, -029 reminded himself. How will a pair function in the company of three unknowns? He couldn't answer the question himself, but resolved to find out. After all, what was it that Mendez had said? "The wise man is able to adapt to changing circumstances. The wiser man does not have to."

As it was, changing circumstances included a query from Green 5.

"Doesn't this seem odd to you?" he asked, a break to the five second silence that had followed the end of -029's briefing. It was addressed mainly to his squad leader, though intended for the rest of them to hear.

"What seems odd?" -029 asked.

"This mission. We're heading into a possible space battle on a single frigate on the behest of nothing but a slipstream package dispatched in suspicious circumstances?" -039 looked at his other squad mates. "Doesn't any of this seem strange to you?"

"Our porogative is to follow orders, not question them," -044 murmured.

"True, and I don't have a problem with that," -039 said hastily. "Still, I'd rather know what kind of battle I was getting into before getting into it, not to mention that space combat isn't exactly our thing."

-029 supposed he had to concede the point. Green 5 was stating the obvious, but sometimes the obvious needed stating. Still, such a need was only needed in battle, and considering that they had yet to engage in any such conflict, a lack of conviction was hardly needed.

It's understandable though -029 reminded himself. After Sargurine, anyone would be feeling at a low point.

Of course, considering that a Spartan II was not "anyone", it was cold comfort.

"We'll take that under advisement," -029 said eventually, sweeping his gaze across Green Team. "Squad dismissed."

Green Leader led the dismissal himself, walking out of the briefing room. Time was a luxury they had, but luxury in itself was never something that should be embraced. They had plans to make, weapons to prime…certainly they had better things to do than wait to see -039 take out an old print photo out of a clip satchel and gaze at it, murmuring something to himself as he put it back in and followed…

"For you, guys. Always for you."

CCS-class battlecruiser Divine Crusader

Location: Seven miles north of human settlement, upper canyon wall near Forerunner relic

Status: Pending

Shipmaster Udo 'Tikawomee liked to think that bad news was anathema to the Covenant. Given their sought destiny of embarking upon the Great Journey and the numerous obstacles they had to overcome to follow their gods into the divine beyond, ill circumstances was something that they could do without. Of course, there was hardly a fine line between idealism and reality, but rather a fortified wall with plasma turrets every few meters. And much to the sangheili's chagrin, he was on the wrong side of it.

Then again, the Covenant as a whole seemed to be on the wrong side of the line between fantasy and reality nowadays, hammering down on the empire as heavily as the rain was currently on the cruiser's hull (or rather what was left of it). True, they'd passed from an Age of Doubt to an Age of Reclamation, but like all passages, the transition was hardly a road without its bumps. And considering that said Age of Reclamation was focused on a war of extermination, a war that had been prompted by the razing of a planet's worth of artifacts in the Reliquary System…

''Tikawomee drew himself back from reflection. Ponder much longer and he'd get to the fact that it had been the jiralhanae who had obtained the honor of taking first blood. Just thinking about the disgusting apes made him nauseous, let alone the fact that, gods forbid, they were now being given ships that possessed more than the bare necessities. It was only a matter of time before they confronted the sangheili-the Covenant's proverbial Alpha males.

Just like I'm doing now, thought 'Tikawomee as his gaze met his superior's, having finished delivering the bad news that he liked to consider anathema. Albiet on an Omega level.

"So let me get this straight," said Devotion slowly, looking up from the parchment that 'Tikawomee had given him (the shipmaster would have usually used a data slate, but his usual one had gone missing. Huragok no doubt). "Our trajectory has taken us to the artifact's doorstep, but also took us over this world's human settlement."

The sangheili nodded, settling upon silence as the best virtue in his current situation. The san' shyuum was clearly working up to a climax and unlike the deep roll of thunder, he thought best not to interrupt.

"In addition, as he passed near the relic, we detected a convoy of human vehicles of light reconnaissance classification. To this end, you dispatched a squadron of Banshees to engage them and found that they were within range of the artifact indicating that they might have taken an interest in it. While the Banshees gave chase and succeeded in destroying the wretches, there remains the possibility that they could have established contact with whatever command they were reporting to."

''Tikawomee nodded once again, still maintaining his silence. With any other Prophet, the shipmaster launching aerial flyers from a moving cruiser inside a planet's atmosphere was no mean feat. Still, ''Tikawomee had long since realized that the Forerunners would sooner return to the material plane than Devotion giving him praise of any kind.

Why am I so worried about praise anyway? the sangheili wondered. He shook away the thought, ashamed at what it suggested about himself.

"A well written report overall," said Devotion eventually, tossing the parchment aside "But merely a summary of what I already know."

"What?" the shipmaster blurted out. "But…but how could you know this already? The time between these events and me reporting them to you was-…"

"Such a time is not an issue," said Devotion firmly. "The real issue is-…"

"Prophet, considering that we are currently stranded on an enemy held world, an enemy which would rather torch holy relics rather than allow us to obtain anything that the gods left behind for us to find, I think that I'm the one who should decide what is and isn't an issue, status as this ship's commander aside."

"Indeed?" sneered Devotion. "Then, oh supreme commander, would it not fall into your providence to rid us of this danger? To ensure that none of our enemies survived the initial Banshee wave and then purge this world of the miasma situated seven miles south of our position?"

The sangheili's mandibles stretched back and forth a few times, the saurian seemingly having trouble forming words. Overall, he wasn't sure what surprised him most-that Devotion was actually giving him military advice, that the advice actually made sense or that he'd reached the position where such advice had to be given in the first place. Considering things such as the Writ of Union and what remained of his pride, none of the options were particularly appealing.

"It does fall under my providence," said ''Tikawomee eventually, trying to match the san 'shyuum's diplomatic ability. "And I shall see it done."

Devotion watched ''Tikawomee head over to converse with his second in command, Andra 'Serafomee, toying with the idea of asking why he was doing so if he was the one who would "see it done." It appeared that the field master had as many reservations about the issue as his captain, wondering whether it would not be best to defend the ship until more forces were summoned, not to mention that the vermin had more intelligence on the area than they did. Still, 'Tikawomee was at least loyal enough to bring his hoof down, ordering his subordinate to follow his orders to the letter. With the matter resolved and Devotion given some privacy, the san 'shyuum was finally able to collect his own thoughts.

As slovenly as cycles of fruitless searching had apparently made the sangheili onboard this ship, Devotion knew that he was not blameless either. Going over documents was nothing new to him, even those written on parchment, but to have a report reiterating what he already knew tested his patience more than he cared for. The problem however, was that he knew things that he supposedly didn't, demonstrating carelessness that he considered himself above. Not a breach of the chain of command, considering that he was at the top, but if 'Tikawomee knew how he was aware of such actions…well, that could lead to complications. Bloodshed even.

But it won't come to that…the Prophet reminded himself, gripping his gravity throne for reasons other than balance. I won't let that happen…

Allowing himself a small smile, Devotion knew that his words stemmed from confidence without an "over" prefix. Sangheili were easily manipulated, especially when one appealed to their egos. 'Tikawomee would focus on eradicating the humans for the next few units, giving Devotion enough time to…to…

To what?

The Prophet blinked, only now realizing his lack of a proper plan, at least one pending to this situation. Somehow he had to keep ''Tikawomee focused on his task, achieve his own objectives and ensure that Covenant reinforcements arrived before human ones did, yet not before he'd achieved his goals. Perhaps rescinding ''Tikawomee's request to call in the Fleet of Purity hadn't been the best idea in the world…

No matter Devotion thought to himself, heading out of the bridge while typing in code on his gravity throne as he did so. I always liked a challenge. Now all I have to do is hope that my protégée likes one as well…

With a hologram appearing on the side of his vessel, the san 'shyuum supposed he'd find out.

"Lord Devotion?" asked the recipient, falling to a knee in a display of reverence that was befitting of his kind. "This is an unexpected pleasure."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" the Prophet said airily, trying to sound like the grandfather that he'd never be (blasted Role of Celibates!). "I suppose that on this ball of rock and dust, one can find solace in even the most basic of pleasures."

"Oh indeed my lord."

Telling the sangheili before him to rise, Devotion fought back a sneer. In many ways, Prero 'Cleraomee reminded him of Divine Crusader's shipmaster-loyal to a fault, but at the cost of making the effort seem strained. Still, the recently promoted major domo was young, a shine in his eyes matching that of his armor, even if the color of dried blood. While Devotion could not claim to have foreseen finally locating the artifact he'd sought for all these cycles, he had taken steps to ensure that when the time came, he would be ready. So having given considerable attention to the sangheili displayed to him via hologram, subtlely feeding his pride over time and ensuring his promotion half a year ago, he knew that 'Cleraomee would obey his orders, even as the ship prepared for war.

"I have a job for you," said the Prophet calmly. "One that I'm afraid does not involve you joining your brethren in the upcoming battle."

Apart from a slight twitch in his mandibles, the major domo remained silent. So far so good-he didn't like the notion of the san 'shyuum's orders, as was proper given what he understood of sangheili nature, but would still follow his leader's demands. A pleasing combination.

"As you may know, there is a relic of the Ancients not so far from here, one that as far as we can tell, has yet to be despoiled by the humans as is their tendency. And while 'Tikawomee ensures that the worms never receive the chance to do so, I want you to enter it. With my blessing of course."

Faith…it was a wonderful thing, especially for a certain race of surians who venerated Forerunner artifacts, allowing the Prophets to study and observe in a scientific manner. And coupling that faith with the implied notion that his actions would be linked to the race that all Covenant despised, Devotion could not help but be just a bit proud of his manipulative ability.

"It…this is an honor," 'Cleraomee stuttered, his words as honest as Devotion could have hoped for. "I shall inform my shipmaster of-…"

"No, don't do that," Devotion interrupted hastily. "Your shipmaster has a lot on his mind right now, he doesn't need to be bothered with this. "Just take a file of your fellow sangheili and report back to me."

"…It will be done."

It was only when the hologram of the major domo disappeared that the Prophet let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't outside his rights to order investigation of the relic, even in the midst of the threat of an enemy force-after all, hadn't Regret ordered an Arbiter to do the same thing three years ago? Still, it was also within 'Tikawomee's rights to be kept in the loop. Still, as long as he was focusing on the humans, that probably wouldn't matter so much. By the time the shipmaster's forces, conveniently removed from the ship had soaked this world's soil with red blood, Devotion would at least have the knowhow to obtain what he sought. And even then, 'Tikawomee would probably assume the relic was just like any other until it was too late.

It isn't that simple though…Devotion reminded himself. 'Cleraomee is loyal. But if that loyalty extends to the shipmaster overmuch then…

Well, if that occurred, the Prophet would deal with it.

After all, his secret agents had yet to let him down…

As far as he could tell, Prophets were slow. Their servants however, were another story.

Approaching the relic's entrance, a gaping open doorway that separated dark from light, the visitor hesitated. He knew what the device could do and knew that if he were to take it for himself, he would have to enter before the alien or his minions did. However, things were never that easy. He'd learnt that the hard way.

I have to do this… the wanderer told himself. It is the only way…

Too much was at stake for the outcome to be any different.

A/N

It's probably overkill to list every single change/addition/removal in this fic compared to original conceptions. However, in regards to Green Team, I think it may be worth mentioning for the sake of posterity how many changes it went through. The basic fact is that in this version, the members are all canon ones from official material. In the past, one of them was a black sheep angsty Gary Stu OC and another of them I replaced based on Halo Encyclopedia information. It's the first concept that irks me. To be honest, from what I've experienced in Halo fanfiction over the years is that the Spartan-IIs are basically crying out to writers for self insertion, even if it's on the sub-concious level. Noble Six is an exception of sorts, but just looking at summaries, at OCs...I don't know, it's just that in experience, there's been very few instances where a writer has used a S-II OC that hasn't got at least some kind of trait that's at odds with the norm somehow.

Am I innocent from this? Even now, the answer would probably be no. However, I found that making the team comprised of pre-existing members worked well against that subconcious urge to go down the dark road of black sheep and Sueness/Stuness. Elements have remained, but with far less angst. The likes of Soren and Jai I think are a good limit of the extent to which one of the S-II's can be angsty without going over the top. Suffice to say, the OC I created not only went past that line, but took the rest of the fic above the shark as well. So while I anticipate criticism, and probably deserve it, I feel I can at least honestly say that at the very least, I've moved forward from the newbie writer super-soldier wanabee self-insertion phase...

...just saying that made me feel all dirty. 0_0

On another note, since a reviewer brought it up mere minutes before I intended to post this, I suppose I should address time stamps, or the lack thereoff. To me, time/location stamps add to a fic only when the fic actually warrants them. If the fic doesn't warrent them, it makes the fic seem clunky and maybe even along the lines of taking itself too seriously. To use familiar examples, time stamps in The Fall of Reach and Reach worked very well because of the long period of time and many locations the stories were set in. However, this story takes place over too small an area and too short a time to warrant such a modus operandi-a change from earlier versions where my mentality was along the lines of "it's Halo-time stamps are compulsory." To me, they're not anymore-hopefully a change for the better.

(2011-08-05)

Corrected some spelling errors.