Seela
Streets of New Mombasa
30 Minutes Before Rupture
She watched the star begin to sink beneath the urban horizon, the plummeting temperature making her shiver beneath her power armour, Seela pausing on the next corner to catch her breath. Her Kig-Yar had been running down the Human survivors through the winding streets non-stop, panting like a pack of rabid animals as they fell into their bobbing sprints,
She had tried to reign them in, but the Kig-Yar were restless, their desire to hunt overpowering their sense of tactics and discipline. Ignoring her orders, they broke formation, disappearing out of her sight. Insubordination was one thing, but hunting down Humans who were unwilling to fight only fuelled her depleting temper.
This was supposed to be a simple reinforcement assignment, now they were hunting down fleeing Humans through countless identical streets. She wasn't a slouch in terms of physical performance, especially compared to the diminutive Kig-Yar, but the avians could be unnaturally quick when they smelled blood, and even she was starting to tire after so much running.
"We give up chase now?" one of her Unggoy asked, doubled over as he panted for air. At least her Unggoy had the sense to stick with her, even if their fastest pace was barely walking speed for Seela.
The one who'd spoken nearly tripped over when she rose to her feet, almost thrice his size as she stood to her full height.
"No," she replied, her hooves thumping on the concrete as she picked up the pace. "We follow the Zealot's will, and by extension, the Prophets own."
Her Unggoy hopped along impotently on their stumpy legs, following her as she rounded a corner. Even beyond the sight of her devoted kin, she wasn't about to betray his command, she was no Heretic. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling of what seeing the human infant had instilled in her. The Great Journey was paved by flowing blood, but this was a step too far. If only she could find a way to reason with the Zealot, but they were so reverent of the cause, perhaps to a fault…
She banished these Heretical thoughts from her mind, but not just because she was fearful of the Prophets will. Over the endless stretches of colourless buildings had echoed the unmistakable report of Human gunfire, too close to be from anything else but their quarry. She fell into a hard run, following the direction of the noise.
Rounding into an alleyway, she glimpsed a pair of Kig-Yar at the far end, a couple of plasma shots carrying on the wind, the green muzzle flashes painting the crumbling walls in their emerald glow. The sound of the bolts filled her with guilt, what if she came upon the corpse of the tiny Human?
Her avian sharpshooters stood in a circle, looking at something on the ground out of her view. She pushed her charges away, and when she saw what was laying there, her worries lifted. The Human that had depleted her shields earlier was laying there, a plasma burn in the middle of his back, and another male Human was sprawled on the ground nearby, his thin clothes betraying him as one of the civilians.
She glanced to the right, the alley splitting off into one other direction, not counting the one she'd just walked down. She could make out footsteps at the edge of her hearing. At least some of them had gotten away, her relief mixed with a pang of underlying guilt as she realised she was rooting for the enemy.
"This one hardly put up a fight!" one of the Kig-Yar chittered as he prodded the Human warrior with his needle rifle. His beak angled up at her as he noticed her presence. "Ultra, the others went that way, shall we cut them down?"
"Break formation like that again," she growled. "And it is you who shall be cut down. What were you thinking?" she barked, turning to the other Kig-Yar, each one wilting under her furious gaze. "Charging forward like that? What foolishness compelled you to break ranks?"
"Th-The humans were escaping," one replied meekly. "We have to hunt down all Humans…"
They were clattering their beaks at each other, anger and frustration getting the better of them. She had to say something or else they might run off again.
"You have to follow my lead," she chided, reigning in her temper. "What if the Humans had laid a trap? They know these streets better than we do, you would have walked right to your deaths, throwing all sense of caution aside as you were, then it would have been you laying on the ground."
She jabbed a finger at the dead Humans to make her point. She knew enough about the avians that their feathers were flattening in a display of guilt, she was getting through to them.
"None of you are of any use if you're dead," she added. "Control yourselves next time, any fool can charge into battle, but a patient one tends to live much longer. Trust me on that."
"So… We go after Humans now?" an Unggoy asked her, Seela turning her attention to where the rest of the Humans had fled, her mandibles flexing in thought.
"No," she said, the Kig-Yar tilting their beaks up at her. "We have hunted them down, including their warrior." She gestured to the Human with the weapon. "Let the rest flee, they will tell others this area belongs to the Covenant. We're done here."
As they made to move out, one of the Kig-Yar spared her a suspicious glance, confused by her approach. Other Sangheili and Jiralhanae would have dealt with insubordination with violence at best, and this avian had probably seen more than one underling fall under the hand of a superior.
"Fall in," she ordered tersely, the avian hopping away as she took up her position at the head of the squad, the relieved Unggoy at her flanks as she led them back the way they had come without further incident.
She glanced up to watch a pair of Phantoms rising from the cityscape in the distance, banking on their downward-facing engines as they rose to the Solemn Penance, its sight inspiring in her heart a feeling of protection, as though the Forerunner's themselves were up there watching over them.
Movement drew her gaze to the side, and she squinted after spotting another two Phantoms banking towards the giant ship. The dropships disappeared into the many hangers pocketing the belly of the carrier, but did not come out. Perhaps they were getting ready to move to another part of the city?
Her squad relaxed as another Covenant group walked towards them from the other end of the street, the golden armour of the Zealot glinting in the light as he stood at their head. He brushed aside a two-wheeled vehicle in his path, his mandibles twitching as he met her gaze. "I've given you ample time to complete your task," he said when he was close enough. "Report."
"Following me, brother?" she asked, nodding in the direction he'd come from "What happened to holding that ground?"
"New orders. Plus, my faith in another is reflective of their standing in the Covenant," he replied, his eyes flicking over her shorter frame. "Interpret that as you will, and give me your report. Did you find the humans you failed to catch?"
"Yes," she growled, suppressing her rising anger. "We hunted them down."
"All of them?"
"Only two. One of them was their protector. He held us back to buy time for his charges, and they slipped away, deeper into the city. I lost track of them."
"You let them go once again," the Zealot sighed. "It is no wonder one who has served as long as you have has failed to gain any real worth in the Covenant. The rumours hold no small semblance of truth…"
"What rumours?" she snapped, her anger getting the better of her. She immediately regretted her tone of voice, watching as the Zealot let his arms hang by his sides, the way he brushed the hilt of his deactivated sword not going unnoticed.
"Do you think to ask things of me?" The Zealot's mandibles clenched in a challenge. As they stared one another down, she was vaguely aware of their squads watching in silence around them, glancing between one other as they waited to see what happened next.
She broke eye contact, sighing as she backed off in deference. "No, brother, I just wish to know what these honourless kin are saying, that they would stoop so low as to whisper behind my back rather than face me."
"There is little glory in gossiping like a bunch of Unggoy, I concur," the Zealot huffed, making sure his runts were aware of his displeasure. "-but to act like one, there is less so. You'd do well to remember this, few females outside of the household ever learn such things from the truly devoted."
She was clenching the grip on her carbine so hard she was starting to hurt her fingers, Seela turning away as she heard another telltale warble of a rising Phantom, her eyes tracking the craft as it soared overhead.
"Are our ships being recalled?" she asked aloud, changing topics.
"That would be those new orders I mentioned before," he answered, their armours clinking together as he brushed past her. "The Field Marshal is readying all forces for a new deployment."
"Has the Forerunner artifact been found?" she asked. She wasn't privy to all the details of the Prophet's mission on this planet, but any Sangheili knew that the presence of even one Zealot meant an artifact would be close by.
"Nothing more could force such a redeployment," the Zealot replied, as if he was explaining to a fresh-faced Minor. "but temper your eagerness, the Humans will viciously defend these sacred relics, whether they know their true purpose or not. Follow me, we return to the base on foot."
-xXx-
Enclosed on all sides by walls of glass and alien stonework was a clearing, the ground made uneven by rising sets of stairs leading to the facades of the structures, banners and alien symbols conveying whatever purpose these structures may have had. Covenant engineers had swept the abandoned vehicles and debris Seela was so accustomed to seeing away, erecting a command post alongside four watchtowers to safeguard the perimeter. There was enough room around the command post that Phantoms could land and take off behind the safety of the base's barricades, Seela watching as one did just that the moment she and the Zealot emerged into the adjacent street.
Up on the closest watchtower, an Unggoy manning a stationary plasma turret peered down at the approaching squads with his beady eyes, the floating platform he was sitting upon gently bobbing on the anti-gravity beams holding the tower aloft. At the foot of the structure were Sangheili-sized barricades, walls of purple alloy allowing the defenders ample cover, Seela seeing many Kig-Yar standing guard behind them as she followed the Zealot between two such barricades.
Groups of the Covenant species milled around the base, weapon crates full of carbines, pistols and other various weaponry spaced throughout the area. As the Zealot moved for the command post, she paused as her Kig-Yar started clicking and squawking in their native tongue, Seela turning to see what they were looking at.
In the corner of the base, just beside the bottom of the northernmost watchtower, was a pile of dead Humans. Flesh had been torn from bone, black blood drying up in a circular splotch around their splayed limbs. It looked like she had mercifully missed the Jiralhanae feasting on the bones of the defenders.
She flexed her mandibles in disgust, finding the whole ritual barbaric, one of the few things she and her kin could agree on. She had heard of more influential Sangheilians trying to ban the act of consuming flesh, but the Prophets hadn't listened, they had even encouraged it, if the rumours were to be believed.
"Get some rest," she said to her squad, a sour look on her face as some of the Kig-Yar sauntered over to the pile, the avians also had a weakness of consuming sapient creatures. She turned and walked through the command post portal, feeling eyes on her back as her fellow kinsman watched her disappear inside.
The cramped interior was occupied by a command terminal, projections of the surrounding city and the current strength of their forces shimmering on its glowing surface. The Zealot stood to one side of it, talking with another kinsman. This one was wearing a suit of colourful, purple armour with an ornate helmet, with two decorative horns branching off the top of it. This was the Field Marshal, and his word was law among all Sangheili on the ground.
He noticed her presence, the Marshal's stance adjusting to a more relaxed state as he addressed her. "Sister, I realise you were unsuccessful in catching some escaped Humans after your deployment. It is of no matter, we will purge the Heretics another day."
Seela glanced from him to the Zealot, her eyes narrowing. "See you've been busy giving my reports for me, brother."
"I merely wish to inform the Marshal of all the details," the Zealot huffed in reply. Now that they weren't alone, Seela decided she could afford to be a bit more flippant with him.
"In that case, did you mention the fact they slipped through your fingers first? You had them trapped, indoors, with that sword of yours, yet you somehow missed several of them."
"Our plan was to flush them out," the Zealot snapped. "had you not hesitated this would have-"
"Enough!" the marshal commanded, and they did, it wouldn't be wise to disobey their superior. "You should know better than to treat a mouth of the Prophet with such disrespect, sister."
She didn't reply, knowing from experience when it was wise to be quiet.
"And you," the marshal continued, turning to the Zealot. "you represent the Prophet's themselves, yet you squabble over the words of one who is lesser in rank. To let such petty emotions cloud your mind, your father would be disgraced."
The Zealot turned away in some vain attempt to hide his shame, Seela allowing herself a little bit of a smile as he finally shut his mandibles for two seconds.
"We have more pressing issues to address," the Marshal went on. "there is no time to waste fighting amongst ourselves, so listen. There has been a complete restructuring of the chain of command, directly from the Prophet himself. I am… no longer to be your Field Marshal."
"Are you being replaced?" Seela asked, the Marshal nodding. "By who?"
"Me," a gruff voice answered. Seela turned around to face the newcomer, and her mandibles began to flex in disgust. Standing in the threshold was a Jiralhanae, his towering body covered from his stumpy two-toed feet to his neck in armour the same shade of gold as the Zealot's own suit, identifying him as a Captain Major.
The lower part of his face was hidden behind a scraggly, grey beard braided into three thick strands, red bands of cloth wrapped over them to help keep their shape. From behind his lower lips emerged a pair of tusks as thick as her fingers, sharpened for cutting through flesh. Above his flat snout were two yellow eyes, regarding the Marshal and the Zealot with a resigned suspicion. When he turned his gaze back on Seela, his suspicion was instead replaced with a smile that made her skin crawl.
"It has been too long since I've seen a female among the Sangheili ranks," the Captain Major remarked, taking a few steps forward. He was a head taller than her, his body so thick with muscle his presence was overwhelming on an instinctual level. "I wasn't aware the Marshal was delving into his reserves, too many casualties, perhaps?"
"Tell us what the meaning of this is," the Zealot ordered, the way he stepped between Seela and the Jiralhanae almost coming off as protective. When it came to the racial clash between Sangheili and Jiralhanae, chauvinism always took the backfoot. "Never has a Jiralhanae ever given orders to us."
"A Zealot doubting the Prophet's will?" the Jiralhanae chuckled. "Truly, your battalions need some reevaluating if these two are any reflection of your field group, Marshal. Or should I say, Ultra?"
"Do not presume to think I've been demoted," the Field Marshal replied. "I have been recalled to the carrier because the Prophet commands me so. Your leadership here is temporary at best, so do me a favour and leave everything exactly where I left it for my return."
"If you say so," the Captain Major replied, finding the whole situation more amusing than anything. "Your ship is waiting, Marshal, better to not keep my pilots waiting, nor the Prophet, he insisted on speaking to you."
The Marshal glanced at Seela and the Zealot before making for the threshold, making sure to give the Captain Major a pointed stare as he passed him. As she made to follow him out, the Major put up a furry hand, the thing as big as her face.
"Not you two," he ordered, taking up the Field Marshal's position at the table. "Since I have you here I may as well relay your new orders."
"What has happened to cause such a drastic change of leadership?" the Zealot demanded. "We are in the middle of an invasion, and you dismiss our Marshal?"
"Again, you doubt the orders spoken by Regret himself," the Jiralhanae chided, before gesturing at Seela. "At least our little sister here knows how to keep quiet like a good mate."
"What are our new orders?" she asked. She'd heard similar comments from her kin, but from a Jiralhanae it felt ten times worse.
"And eager, too. Too bad I find the Sangheili people a little too thin for my taste." He chuckled again, his tongue flicking out to wet one of his tusks. "You are both to take your squads on new patrol routes to seek out any remaining Heretics that are dug in, south of the base."
"We are to work together once more," the Zealot remarked. If the Marshal was still here, the Zealot probably would have complained, but now he was all too glad to be with kin, female or not.
"I cannot wait," she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes at him.
"You're in luck, little sister," the Jiralhanae interrupted. "I will not be sending you out together, as of right now all Sangheili teams are to be accompanied by one squad led by a Jiralhanae of my choosing. They will assist you in securing this city from the Heretics. One of my Captains is already outside waiting for you, Zealot, unless you have more objections?"
He clearly did, but decided to hold his tongue, storming back out into the daylight without a word, the Jiralhanae chuckling dryly as she was left alone with him.
"And who is to be my escort?" she asked when he didn't continue.
"Leader," he corrected. "One of my Minor's will come find you when he is ready. Do not worry, you're easy to pick out." His yellow eyes played up and down her body. "Rest and rearm, have your share of Heretic meat, if you wish."
"I'd sooner die," she murmured, taking that as a sign she was dismissed. She made her way back outside, looking around until she spotted her squad resting on the concrete nearby, some of them hanging their heads to catch what little rest they could.
As she went to join them, a hand fell on her shoulder. She bristled, turning around to expect to see some male trying to sidle up to her, as was the usual case whenever she finally caught some down-time. Her arms relaxed when she realised it was the Marshal.
"I thought you had been recalled?" she said, glancing up at the carrier far above them.
"I didn't want to speak in front of the Captain Major," he replied. His voice was a whisper, like he didn't want to be overheard. "This change in who leads the ground invasion worries me, sister. What did the Jiralhanae tell you?"
She relayed to him her new orders, the Marshal shaking his head when she finished. "He should hardly expect any Sangheili to willingly follow the orders of a Jiralhanae," he murmured. "I do not trust this Captain Major for one moment."
"You think the Prophet's made a wrong decision?" she asked, looking over her shoulder as a pair of Jiralhanae walked by. She'd never heard of a superior being so doubtful, least of all straight to her face.
"Regret knows how to lead, not how to invade," he replied. "I shall make him explain what reason he has to make such drastic changes, I should be back by the time your patrol is finished. In the meantime, you and your brothers must watch each other's backs."
"We will, Marshal."
"I must go warn the others before I'm missed. Farewell, sister."
She watched him leave, shifting from one foot to the other. The Marshal was one of the few males she'd known that didn't talk down to her, likely because she had been serving with him for a time and had proved she could handle herself.
She joined her Unggoy, crossing her legs as she sat down next to them, telling the ones who were awake what their new task was. They didn't seem particularly interested, especially the Kig-Yar, who were mercenaries above all else, they didn't care what power struggles happened within the Covenant, but she felt compelled to clue them in regardless.
She bowed her head, drifting into a sleep riddled with nightmares. That damned infant just wouldn't leave her thoughts be, her mind convinced it could hear its screams in the distance, her mind conjuring images of Kig-Yar chasing it down through a dark, swirling maze, Seela reeling in horror when she couldn't move her muscles, couldn't stop the aliens from devouring the defenceless Human.
Her eyes flew open, and she looked up, judging by the sun's position that she hadn't slept long. Footsteps rumbled the hard ground beneath her rump, and she looked up, sighing when she saw a Jiralhanae coming over to her, flanked by a small procession of Unggoy and Kig-Yar.
The colour of his armour identified him as a Minor, no doubt the one the Captain Major had earlier mentioned. He looked adolescent, a little less brawny than others of his kind, and he stank like a corpse, Seela brushing at her snout as he loomed over her.
"On your feet, female," he ordered, his thick beard barely long enough to hide his features. They took great pride in the length of their hair, it held some cultural significance Seela hadn't bothered to learn the details of, so to see one so clean-shaven reflected his inexperience. "We have Heretics to clear out. The rest of you runts get behind me," he added, growling at the Unggoy settled in beside Seela.
"You do not hold authority over my troops," she said, her mandibles clenching as she rose to her feet. "We are to patrol as two units, mine and yours. Those are our orders."
"Our orders are that I take charge," he insisted.
"I'm sure you think that," she replied, gesturing at her helmet. "Do I have to remind you that an Ultra outranks a Minor, or are you too fresh out of the womb to realise who gives orders to who?"
She wasn't an Ultra in any official capacity, of course, but the Jiralhanae didn't know that, and she wasn't about to start telling them. She'd never dream of talking like this to a kinsman, but her disdain with these Jiralhanae overpowered her hesitance, and she'd be damned to let one of them walk over her.
The young male could tell she wasn't going to budge, his jaws exposed as he forced out a humourless laugh. "Looks like she has tusks. Very well, keep your runts and follow me, the sooner we get this over, the better."
"On that, we are agreed," she replied, motioning for her underlings to follow. With the Jiralhanae's squad that put their group at about twenty strong. The procession moved out from the safety of the barricades, beginning their patrol as they disappeared into the winding streets.
-xXx-
"How long have you served in the Covenant?" Seela asked, trying to make conversation. She didn't really care for his answers, the lack of Humans was making her antsy enough to put aside her prejudices so she had something to distract herself with. They had patrolled for a good time now, with no sign of the Heretics despite the Captain Major saying they were dug in around this area. It wasn't silent, however, the distant sonic booms as aircraft broke through the atmosphere to swoop down on faraway skirmishes reminding her this planet was covered with Humans.
"One standard rotation," the Jiralhanae replied, his eyes following his rifle as he swept the area for Heretics. There was something almost casual about the way he trailed his weapon back and forth, stalking through the alien streets without bothering to keep close to cover, like he knew this part of the city was long evacuated.
"You ever seen a planet so heavily defended before?" she continued, looking up at the dimming sky, the clouds joined to the ground by thick smoke columns trailing up from the worst areas of resistance, the sky occasionally filling with Banshees and Human spacecraft delivering airstrikes or reinforcements.
"Once. We must be on one of the Heretic's core worlds," he replied with a grin that exposed his many teeth. "Perhaps we have them cornered, and it won't be long before all Heretics are purged."
"They will fight harder than ever if that is the case," she said. "We will grant them good deaths." They emerged from the maze-like streets into a sort of plaza, the clearing centralized by a monument representing a Human figure, half of the bronze statue scorched with plasma fire. Blocks of rubble littered the footpaths near it, and off to one side was an armoured vehicle flipped on its side, the engine compartment coughing smoke. Heretics and Covenant alike lay scattered around, they must have just missed the fight.
"You Sangheili always praise the Heretics," the Jiralhanae spat, pushing the human vehicle out of his way while Seela just walked around it. "you admire those who worship false Gods, who fight the Great Journey at every turn. How the Prophet's thought of you as the best of the Covenant I cannot guess."
"There is honour in defending against an overwhelming enemy, to help the non-combatants," she chided. "then again you probably don't even know what half those words mean, I should save my breath."
He bared his teeth at her in a snarl, and began to speak, but his words were lost as a blinding flash of light erupted behind them. Seela covered her eyes with an arm, turning to watch as the shadows around her began to strengthen, looking up at the smokey sky to see a ball of off-blue energy had appeared at the nose of the carrier, her eyes tracking the giant ship as it seemed to be pulled towards the rupture.
In a moment, the carrier was no longer there, the orb of energy popping out of existence too, an expanding ring of crackling electricity replacing it. The buildings closest to the carrier simply disintegrated, the ones further away crumbling apart from the shockwave, Seela's eyes going wide as she felt a massive weight hit her front.
She dug her hooves into the ground, the Unggoy having no such luck as they were thrown around, bouncing and skidding off the pavement, the Kig-Yar joining them as they were knocked off their feet. The Jiralhanae braced himself against the derelict vehicle, shielding his face as the rushing air coursed through the plaza.
When the ferocious gale lessened, she turned her gaze up to the alien megastructure dominating the horizon, a column of metal rings spiralling up into the clouds. It rattled on its wire-thin supports as the eruption washed over it, tilting off-centre but managing to stay upright.
"Ship blew up!" an Unggoy squeaked. "Humans destroy Prophet ship!"
"Quiet, you runts," the Jiralhanae snapped, his armour clinking as he brushed himself off. "The carrier has jumped to slipspace."
"Gods," she said in disbelief, plucking one of her Unggoy to its feet when he couldn't roll off his methane tank. "Why did they do that? We had hundreds of troops stationed right below the carrier!"
"Do not question the Prophet's will," the Jiralhanae replied. "They had to have a reason."
"We're going to die!" another Unggoy wailed. "Prophet's leave us on Human world!" The crustaceans were running about as though their methane tanks had gone dry, even the Kig-Yar were gathering up, looking nervously around as they searched for places to hide.
"Warriors of the Covenant!" the Jiralhanae shouted. "Shut your mouths or I'll shut them for you. The Prophets have a plan, and so do we. We're going to look for survivors from the blast and gather our forces. Lead the way, Ultra," he added, motioning with his plasma rifle. "I'll pick up the rear, make sure these cowards do not run."
She narrowed her eyes at him, how could he know what the Prophets were planning after such a sudden jump out of the system? The chance of survivors being in the very middle of the rupture was nigh impossible, did he really think they'd find anyone?
She set aside her worries, leading her squad as she took up the lead, moving in the direction of the blast zone. They moved out onto a four-lane street chocked with abandoned vehicles, the ground beginning to tremble as one of the buildings up ahead gave way beneath its supports, the tower of brick and stone listing over the street, kicking up a mountain of dust as it crashed to the ground.
"The shockwave has weakened all these buildings," she said, looking round to see if the street branched off somewhere, cursing when she saw no alternative paths. By the Forerunners she hated this place. "It's too risky to cut through here, we must double back, find another way to-"
She turned, and found herself staring down the barrel of a plasma rifle, the prongs crackling with warming energy. Behind its curved top, the Jiralhanae grinned at her with his yellowed teeth.
"What are you doing?" she asked in disbelief, watching as his subordinates began to raise their rifles at her as well. "Traitors!"
"No, we follow the Prophet's will," he replied. "The San'shyuum finally grew enough sense to dismiss your kind, Sangheili. The Captain Major told us to wait for the signal, and that rupture was it. All of you!" he barked, gesturing at the Kig-Yar and Unggoy behind her. "Relieve this Heretic of her weapons, the Chieftain wants her brought back alive."
Her charges looked at her, then at each other, the conflict visible in their eyes as they hesitated. Seela's heart began to sink as they aimed their weapons.
"W-We know you no Heretic!" one of the crustaceans said.
"Yes! We like Sangheili lady!" another added.
"I won't charge in blindly this time," a Kig-Yar began. He raised his needle rifle and pointed it, not at her, but the Jiralhanae. "Heretic or not, better to follow the orders of one who values our lives."
Seela felt a surge of relief as her squad joined him, pistols and rifles angling past her at the Jiralhanae's squad. It seemed her desire to command through respect had paid off, and her words had stuck with the Kig-Yar, who she had thought would betray her at the first chance.
Her squad coalesced around her, Seela raising her carbine at the Jiralhanae's chest, who growled at seeing so many weapons being aimed at him.
"You would all follow this female?" he snarled. "Very well, it makes no difference to me."
He pulled the trigger on his plasma rifle, Seela firing her carbine at the same time, both their personal shields flaring as the superheated gas clashed against each other's protective barriers.
There had been a vehicle off to the left, and Seela dove for it, the Jiralhanae mirroring her movements as he doubled back to hide behind a light post, both of them firing on the move. Their underlings held no such tactical awareness, firing on the spot as they broiled themselves in a point-blank bloodbath.
Crystal rounds crisscrossed between the groups of Kig-Yar as the marksmen levelled their needle rifles, their beaks painted pink in short instances as their muzzles flashed. An Unggoy flipped head over heels as a round embedded into his rebreather, another crustacean beside him keeling over as his torso was riddled with bolts, the plasma broiling over his thin armour like it was a liquid.
Those with shield gauntlets ignited them, one of the slower Kig-Yar dying before his shield had even flared to its full size, the more situationally aware avians backing up to seek cover. There was a high-pitched wail as one of the Unggoy produced a pair of plasma grenades, one in each hand, igniting the charges with his thumbs as he ran madly into the middle of the brawl. He along with five or so of his kind vanished in the resulting blast, pieces of methane tanks whipping in all directions, bouncing off the street with loud clangs of metal, Seela feeling the heat blast wash over her helmet.
She felt a pain shoot up her arm as she reached the vehicle, looking down to see a crystal as long as her hand embedded through her elbow, its jagged point poking out of the other side of her arm. Her shields had collapsed before she could get her head down.
She ripped the crystal dart out with a growl, casting it aside as she levelled her carbine over the hood of the vehicle, aiming at one of the hostile Kig-Yar and firing. The first shot hit his hand through the groove in his shield, and the second landed on his beak, the alien toppling over without a sound.
She scoped in on another Kig-Yar falling back, the avian jumping up onto one of the balconies protruding from the building nearby, the muscles bulging through his leg armour as he jumped an amazing height that would have been impossible for any other species to scale.
She pulled the trigger, her carbine flashing as she ended his height advantage, turning her attention back to the brawl. The Jiralhanae was firing from the hip at her loyal followers, two more of the Unggoy crumpling as he sprayed them down with a torrent of plasma.
He staggered back when she fired a burst of rounds, two of them catching him in his torso while the third missed. His shields had also been depleted, the alien roaring as bits of his armour broke away where her shots connected. As she reloaded, the Jiralhanae produced something from his belt.
"Catch this!"
The thing was shaped vaguely like a stick, the Jiralhanae thumping the bottom of it against his thigh, tossing it underhand in her direction. Dozens of silver blades stuck out of its length, their serrated edges glinting in the light as it tumbled over the car she hid behind.
It landed on the ground a few meters away, one of the blades digging through the concrete like it was searing into flesh. It glowed a subtle orange colour before it detonated, sending all those wicked blades flying through the air, Seela protecting her face with her arms.
She felt one of those blades hit her shoulder, but she ignored it as she popped out of cover, slamming a fresh canister into her weapon as she aimed at the Jiralhanae, who'd used the distraction of the spike grenade to fall back. Against the Human backdrop he was a massive target, and she emptied her magazine into his backside, watching as his heavy frame crumpled to the ground with a wet gurgle.
She took aim at the rest of the fighters, but they weren't aiming their weapons at her, Seela relaxing as she saw the ones remaining were on her side. She vaulted over the vehicle, stalking towards the Jiralhanae, who she saw wasn't dead yet, the alien crawling away with one hand, while lifting the other to his helmet.
"H-Heretic on my position, send support no-"
She silenced him, the muzzle on her carbine flashing once, Seela cursing under her boiling blood began to cool. They weren't that far from the base, they would be coming this way ever since they heard the shooting start. Her chest tightened as she realised how many of her kin were back there, unaware of the traitorous Jiralhanae's intentions.
Had the Minor spoken the truth? Had the Prophets really seen to it to dismiss her whole race from the Covenant, and why? She would not have believed his words had she not seen the carrier jump to slipspace, leaving all these forces on the ground behind in a move that reeked of cowardice.
As if she needed further proof, her communicator crackled to life, Seela's eyes going wide as dozens of confused voices from her kin garbled through the speakers.
"The Jiralhanae have betrayed us!"
"My squad has turned on me! I cannot-"
"Brothers, th-the Covenant has forsaken us…"
The rapid report of a plasma turret echoed from nearby, Seela deflating as she pictured all those watchtowers as they opened up on her kin. They would be cut down in moments, their deaths nothing short of humiliating.
She couldn't just stand here, she had to do something. If she couldn't go back to the base, maybe she could link up with other patrols out here, but even that idea seemed foolish. The Captain Major had said himself all teams would be accompanied by a Jiralhanae of his choosing, they might not have gotten as lucky as she had…
"What are your orders, Ultra?" one of her Kig-Yar asked. She turned to see only three of the avians had survived, and just as many Unggoy, the short aliens looking to her for guidance. She could not afford to lose them now by hesitating.
"We look for other patrols led by my kin, find safety in numbers. Rearm from the dead if you need, we cannot stay here."
She wanted to thank them for not betraying her, but couldn't find the right words to say, and the opportunity passed as they fanned out to relieve the dead of their spare ammo. She hunkered by one of the Unggoy that had been on her side, murmuring a prayer she would usually reserve for dead kin. To die loyal to the end, there was no greater feat in her opinion.
Her arm burned with pain as she examined her carbine, Seela looking down to see a shard from the spike grenade still lodged in her shoulder. She'd almost forgotten about it.
Ripping it out, a spurt of her purple blood following, she pointed back the way they'd come. "Let's move," she said when they were ready, the Unggoy dropping to all fours as she led them away from the skirmish.
The Major
Kikowani Station
6 Hours After Rupture
Water splashed onto his shins as the Major stepped into the puddle in front of the kiosk, his gloved fingers tapping at the letters of the touchscreen keyboard. This was the third kiosk he'd tried after the first one had bugged out, each one either glitching out or pointing him to that same incorrect destination. Maybe the whole city network had bugged out and he was wasting his time trying to find his way round like a damned shopper lost in a mall, but third time was the charm, so they said.
He hit the enter button, cursing as his destination was once again replaced, the navigation waypoint encouraging him to go somewhere else. He thumped the side of the kiosk with his fist, watching as the screen sizzled with static, the map replacing with the green face of the city Superintendent, a tinny, artificial voice replying to his little outburst.
"Please follow these directions! Warning: fellow passengers may be sharing your designated route, please provide assistance if possible!"
The Major tilted his head, maybe these things weren't bugging out. Was the city AI trying to point him to his missing squadmates? He took a closer look at where the map was pointing him to. Kikowani Station, the area was called, a train station not far to his east. He would rather not waste any more time than he already had, but if there was a chance one of his team was out there, he had to prioritize them over the mission.
The route pointed him to one of the tunnel access points leading below the city, where he could walk right through the subway to Kikowani. His HUD told him he had a full receiver plus thirty spare shells, and he also had his sidearm and the plasma pistol, he'd be as ready as could be if he ran into Covenant down there.
Memorising the directions, he cut through the nearby building, checking the corners of some kind of reception area for a JOTUN office, their signature logo hanging on the walls in big letters. They made farming equipment from their factories on Mars, that was all he knew about them. There was no telling if there were Covenant in any of the rooms branching off from here, but he didn't have the time to clear each one, so he kept moving through.
The automatic doors on the other side opened up, the Major emerging out onto a street, with no Covenant in sight. There was a giant billboard on the face of the building across from him, and it shifted into a pair of white arrows pointing toward the left. The glare of the sign would have been blinding if not for his visor automatically dampening the harsh glow.
His eyes followed the arrows until they rested on a small shelter covering a staircase leading below ground, the sign on the arch flashing the word Platform 4 in orange letters. He weaved between the cars as he crossed the street, rain sliding down the front of his visor in thick drops.
When he got close, he saw the staircase was in fact an escalator frozen in place, the Major feeling better as he made his way down, the incessant rain finally stopping as the roof protected him. He wiped his visor clean with his glove, the sound that filled his helmet reminding him of when one wipes a window with a squeegee.
He brought his shotgun to bear as he reached the last step, scanning the subway for threats. The platform was covered in rubble, a pair of support columns having long crumbled to dust from some unknown force, maybe artillery. A flickering lightbulb washed over the front carriage of a train cart that had derailed, its nose smashed several feet deep into the platform's edge. The accident should have left dozens dead, but as he made his way over to the cart, kicking stones out of the way with his boots, he was treated to a bodiless sight as he peered through the windows.
The tunnel leading off to the side drew his attention, the smooth walls outlined by the dying fluorescent on the platform. After a few feet the stone slowly faded to darkness as the tunnel curved gently to the left and out of view. Walking through had seemed so trivial up top, but now it felt like he was about to plunge into an abyss.
Leading with his shotgun, he hopped down from the platform, his boots crunching the rocks between the rails. It was easy to imagine civies running down these tunnels trying to escape the Covenant, it would have been horrible going into all that darkness with a Brute chasing you down.
He activated the night vision on his visor as he stepped into the tunnel, the illumination fighting back the intense darkness. Even after all his years of training and campaigning against the aliens, he hadn't quite outgrown his childhood trepidation of dark places, remembering how Joker had never let the fact go after he'd found out, buying the Major a nightlight to cement his nickname in the squad.
The first bend was painted green by his visor low-light systems, but the fluorescents in this tunnel were black and dead, and soon the fading light behind him grew dimmer until his visor was struggling to outline the curving passage.
Without an outside source of light, his night vision was close to useless, so the Major flicked a thumb over the mounted flashlight on his shotgun. The beam cut through the inky darkness as he swept it over the shadows. The light was strong, but after around twenty feet the circle of illumination blurred into darkness.
He kept walking, at one point his boot slid against the rocks and he almost lost his balance, his hand shooting out to rest against the wall. The thump as his glove met the smooth stone echoed eerily down the tunnel, as if there was someone every twenty meters in front of him hitting the wall as well.
He shuffled along, the scraping of rocks below his feet also having an echo, the repeating scratching noise making his heart pound against his chest. The darkness was a perfect canvas to let his imagination run wild, a Brute could be waiting round the next bend, a cloaked Elite could be coming up behind him and he wouldn't even know it.
He pushed these ideas aside, why would the Covenant be down here after all this time? They were here to destroy all of humanity, not skulk down here in the dark in some random subway tunnel.
He picked up the pace all the same, the circle of his flashlight beating back the swirling darkness, how long did the kiosk say this tunnel was? It didn't, he remembered, the line just went on until it opened up at Kikowani, yet he couldn't see any natural light, there must be a few more turns.
Something flittered above his helmet.
He shone his flashlight at the upward-curving walls, cracks splintering along the ceiling where dust occasionally fell like raindrops of powder. There had been a noise, but he hadn't made it, and he listened to the echo with his finger ready to pull the trigger. The sound reminded him of the chittering noise of when a beetle flaps its wings.
The hairs on his neck stood on end, the circle of light too small for him to scan everywhere at once. He wasn't sure how long he waited, only that a part of him began to doubt he'd heard anything at all, that the vapours of the dark were playing tricks on his eyes.
He began to move again, bringing his attention back to the rails so he didn't lose his footing. The tunnel bent to the right now, every meter of the tunnel looking the same as the last, only the cracks in the tiles beside him holding any sense of change. He wondered what made them, Covenant artillery, explosions up on the streets, perhaps?
Something heavy landed on his back.
He yelled out, a stinging sensation adding a snarl to his scream as something sharp slipped between the plates on his BDU, the Major feeling warm blood trickle down his spine. He whirled around, but the weight on his shoulders followed his movement, whatever it was it was clinging to him hard.
He turned and thrust his back against the wall of the tunnel, a clicking sound that almost came off as a scream joining the echoes racing down the railway. A pair of bony hands slapped against his visor, four fingers, no, claws, beginning to rake at his helmet. They were made up of plates of chitin rather than flesh, the underside of the hand and wrist made up of angular sections of what looked like hard plastic.
The arms were backlit by his flailing flashlight, the orange plates of bone glinting in its light. He couldn't take a shot with the thing so close, so he reversed the grip on his shotgun, swinging it like a club over his shoulder.
The stock hit something hard, and judging by the following thump, he'd missed and hit the wall. Something thin, long and covered in fine hairs brushed over his gauntlet, the Major shivering as he turned his head to see a pair of antennae poking out of a rounded head.
Through the claws scratching at his visor, a pair of glowing, green eyes stared back. They were arranged on the sides of a flat, disk-shaped head, a pair of serrated mandibles that flexed and twitched in the place a mouth would be on a human. Its head and back were layered over with thick plates of chitin or maybe armour, he couldn't be sure. The thick torso tapered into a pair of skeletal hips, the legs and thighs covered in little barbs, ending into a pair of feet with two massive toes that were currently hooked into the waist of his BDU.
The thing looked like a giant, overgrown mantis, the Major recoiling in alarm as it gave up trying to pry his helmet off with its arms, going in instead with its jaws. Its mandibles wriggled as it latched onto his visor like a leech, the Major looking clear down its throat to see its entire gullet was lined with hook-shaped teeth.
He grabbed it by one of its antennae, snarling through his teeth as he fought to pull it off. It let go, but not before slicing him across the chest with its claws, the sound of fabric tearing as it cut through his pouches, the Major feeling its claws narrowly miss cutting into his skin.
He threw it to the ground, flipping his shotgun back into its correct position in one fluid movement. Now that he had it in his sights, he saw that two pairs of translucent wings extended from its back, the protective casings folded up over its shoulders twitching as the alien shifted on its thin legs.
It was a Drone, a flying race of insects the Covenant used to soften up positions before the elite troops rolled in. They weren't the strongest race individually, but they travelled in such massive groups they could overwhelm even a Spartan. Why this one was alone he didn't know, but he wasn't about to question his luck.
The butt of the shotgun rocked into his shoulder as he fired off a shell. At such close range, the kinetic energy simply disintegrated the bug, parts of its exoskeleton flying apart like fragments from a grenade, yellow ichor trailing out to splotch against the Major's front. In such a small space the blast from his weapon was very loud, the roar bouncing up the walls the way he'd come, the splatter of the Drone's limbs following it.
Snarling through his teeth, he realised it had stuck something in his back, reaching up and giving what felt like a hilt a tug. He winced as he pulled it out, bringing it to his face, examining what looked like a dagger right out of the medieval ages. The blade was curved, much like the Drone's claws had been, almost an exact approximation.
He threw it to the ground where the Drone had formerly been, the black blade reflecting the light of his flashlight as he lowered the receiver, replacing the spent shell. It didn't feel like the stab had gone all that deep, but he'd rather be safe than sorry and look around for a medkit when he got out of this damned tunnel.
Where there was one Drone there would be more, the Major at least getting an explanation for all these cracks in here, there was undoubtedly a hive nearby, probably right above his head. He doubled timed it, not eager to see another one of them again any time soon.
He moved on for a few more minutes until he saw something through the scratches on his visor. Up ahead was a small ball of glowing light, gradually expanding with every step he took, orange light shining on the pair of rails, the fist-sized rocks casting shadows against the rest of the ground. It was probably light born from the burning city, but he wasn't about to let morbidity stop him from feeling relief.
He moved faster, the mouth of the tunnel opening up into a huge expanse of open space. The tracks stretched on into what seemed like a bridge, ending at a platform almost identical to the one he'd just come from. What sounded like sloshing water reached his ears, but this was overwhelmed by the rapid echoes of plasma fire.
He took a knee by the tunnels end, sticking to the shadows. There was indeed a river the bridge extended over, its salty breeze filtering through the gaps in his helmet, but he was focused more on the gunfight on the other side of the bridge.
He could see six or seven Brutes off to the left of the tracks, the platform merging into a sloping set of staircases, the aliens taking cover behind planters and pillars as they fired at the train below them. One of the Brutes broke cover, the Major watching as he sprinted through the open, bee-lining it for the train. As it ran, the barrel of a Covenant carbine poked out from the train windows, cutting the alien down with a quick burst of rounds, his shields and then his body collapsing.
The dead Brute joined what looked like dozens of fallen Jackals and Grunts and even a few other Brutes, whoever was in the train setting up a nasty kill zone. He couldn't see which of his squadmates it was at this angle, only that they probably deserved a promotion after such an amazing kill count.
"Hang on, I'm coming," he muttered, shouldering his shotgun as he crossed the bridge.