Disclaimer: I still own neither Halo nor Kantai Collection.
The central figure sat in his command chair with his hands folded in front of his clenched mandibles. He nodded at the Unggoy's report that the surface guns were silenced, and as the ship ascended back into a high orbit, ordered the bridge clear to discuss with his brethren.
The golden glint of his armor said that he was supposed to be more experienced and intelligent than most Sangheili. The fact that he was trusted as a Shipmaster for a CCS-class battlecruiser suggested the same. Instead, his blind grasp for glory had brought ruin on his and those under his command. He had rashly jumped after a human task force, unheeding of his Fleetmaster's protestations that the three ships he commanded required additional support. He had been confident—too confident—that nothing the humans had could harm him. And what had he wrought for his arrogance?
One destroyer, killed almost immediately.
The other destroyer, focused down and torn apart.
And finally his ship, his legacy, surrounded and picked apart like insects atop a bloated carcass. Humiliated and dispatched into the Void by the damnable humans!
"Remember you are mortal," Fleetmaster Thel 'Vadamee had advised him upon his arrival to join the Covenant fleet. "If you do not, the humans will be quick to remind you." At the time, the Shipmaster had scoffed once the transmission ceased, believing the Fleetmaster's wariness of the humans to be a sign of weakness. If only he had listened.
Once again cursing to himself his decision to chase after the humans without re-embarking his ground forces, the Shipmaster glanced at the myriad of colors before him. Two of the eight other Sangheili wore white armor; the only remnants of his original bridge crew. Four others wore red, including the only one trained as a pilot, whose faulty Banshee kept him on the ship when it made its unintended journey. One of his brothers wore blue armor, with a hot attitude to match. The only outlier was a brother in the night black armor of the special forces, which coupled with the respect such armor garnered, meant that no one dared to question why he remained on the ship rather than going down to the human planet.
Eight brothers. That was all who were left, out of a crew of many hundreds. The place the figures met was once pristine and orderly, as befitted its station. Now the area was haphazard: debris still littering the floor, sparks occasionally flying from exposed conduits. The figure sighed internally. Truly his shame was complete.
The sound of speech brought the Shipmaster out of his musings. "Humans," one of the white-clad Sangheili growled, "are bullshit."
The crass statement aside, every last Sangheili nodded at the sentiment. Human swear words had spread around some of the Covenant forces, and though they rarely saw fit to use them, sometimes they just described something better than a Sangheili word ever could. The blue-armored one scoffed. "What now, Hierarch? Do you plan to ask the Heretics for supplies?"
The Shipmaster narrowed his eyes at the obvious challenge, but kept his voice even. "Of course not. We are soldiers of the Covenant, and we shall do our duty." He put some slight emphasis on the last line, on the off chance the brash one had grown the ability to recognize some subtlety in the last few days.
That hope was, of course, dashed. "We shall do our duty?" the blue-clad brother repeated angrily. "What of the past many months was our duty? Our purpose in the Covenant is to bring battle to any who oppose us, not to sulk about in the depths doing Grunt work!" The Shipmaster was grateful he ordered the bridge cleared, not wishing to know how the Unggoy hastily trained to man the bridge would react to a Sangheili intentionally using the name given to them by the humans.
"Does your mewling have a point to it or are you whining merely for the sake of it?"
Many of the assembled Sangheili flinched at the barking of their black-armored companion, but the blue-clad youngster was unbowed. "My point, brother, is that this fool has led us only to ruin and humiliation!" The Sangheili tensed at the blatant challenge, but the Shipmaster merely sat and watched patiently, waiting for the moment to be right. "We enter battle against the humans, and this man jumps away! We ambush a human force, and this incompetent gets us all killed! And then those who remain are reduced to Grunts—" that human word again— "fixing the ship from the damage he let it take, before limping to a world in the hope that they'll help us, only to find it to be inhabited by humans as well! And all he can say is that 'we will do our duty'?!" The blue one clenched his hands into fists, staring down the taller black armored Sangheili as he continued, "Why are we not bombarding them? Why are we not reducing their infestation to glass and rubble? Why are we not at least taking them on in combat? He may perhaps be resigned to being branded with the Mark of Shame, but some of us at least would like to have some honor by the time this farce is over!" The blue one reached to his side, and grasped what looked like a metallic barbell in his hand, a finger hovering over the activation button.
In a flash, the Shipmaster leaped out of his seat, seized the blue one by the neck, and hoisted him into the air. "By all means, draw your sword. I dare you," the Shipmaster growled. "I will take great pleasure in cutting off your arms before tossing you out into the Void! I have endured your insolence for long enough; if you do not show deference to your betters, I will happily put you down like the dog you are!"
The blue one dropped his sword, both hands grasping at the Shipmaster's arm, trying to remove the hand from around his neck. After letting the young one struggle in futility for a few moments, the Shipmaster scoffed audibly and opened his hand, dropping the blue one to the ground. He stalked back to his command chair and turned back to face his brethren. The blue one had picked himself back up, and though he did not look cowed his sword was at least returned to his side. It would have to do.
The Shipmaster turned towards one of the white-armored Sangheili. "Have you found where that human ship is hiding?"
"No, Hierarch, I have not. It seemed to dive into the atmosphere before it just simply disappeared. I did not know human ships could do that."
"Some can," the black-armored spoke up in an experienced tone, "but the one you saw was not one of them. Perhaps one of the human ships that so grievously wounded us was brought here as well?"
Another piece of Thel 'Vadamee's advice echoed in the Shipmaster's mind: Think not of the humans as a mindless foe; think of them as Shipmasters like yourself. By asking yourself what you would do in their situation, you may be able to predict their decisions. Once the Shipmaster had wondered if the San 'Shyuum were wise to appoint a cautious thinker like Thel 'Vadamee as Fleetmaster; now he saw the true wisdom of those humanity rightly dubbed "Prophets". And though he had ignored 'Vadamee's advice on mortality, he would really be shamed if he were to ignore the rest of his advice as well. "Likely, he is trying to lie in wait, hoping to lure us into descending to reduce their planet to glass and ambush us with our shields lowered," the Shipmaster mused. He sat back down in his command chair, folding his hands in front of his face akin to his earlier pose. "If that is the case, we will need to lure him out and destroy him before we can give this human planet the treatment it deserves."
The Shipmaster kept his eye on the blue one as he said that, but though he sulked the youngster did not object. For their part, the other Sangheili nodded at their shipmaster's wisdom. None of them questioned the morality of consigning an entire world, with all its many billions of inhabitants, to oblivion. None of them questioned the necessity of bombarding a planet with plasma until the water has boiled away and the surface reduced to glass. None of them wondered why the San 'Shyuum had decreed that their Great Journey required the extinction of another, entirely separate, people.
From their temple on High Charity, beside the dreadnought of the Forerunners, the San 'Shyuum had declared humanity to be heretics, unworthy of the Great Journey or even of simple existence. Its destruction, the Prophets declared, was the will of the Gods.
And the Sangheili were but their willing instrument.
Unburdened with such thoughts, the Shipmaster turned to one of his red-clad brethren. "How many craft have the Huragok made ready?"
"My Banshee has been fully repaired, Hierarch, and they have managed to construct one Seraph. Beyond that," the pilot trailed off, spreading his hands.
The Shipmaster nodded slowly. Human weapons may be weaker compared to those of the Covenant, but the Shipmaster saw with his own eyes how the human ships had shredded his fighter craft. "Very well. Have you managed to teach your brethren to fly?"
The pilot glanced at one of the red-clad Sangheili next to him, who seemed to straighten in response to the attention focused on him. "He has learned well; I expect he will make a decent pilot with enough practice." The man in question beamed at the praise.
The Shipmaster nodded again. "Then I want the two of you to be out scouting at all times, searching for targets. If you see the human spacecraft, do not approach; report it to us and shadow it." The pilot saluted, his student somewhat less enthusiastically. Too bad; the Shipmaster did not want his only scouts to throw themselves away against the humans' autocannons.
"The Huragok are to go back to working on the sensors," the Shipmaster continued. He turned to the two white-armored Sangheili. "The human warship is the primary threat to us; we must find it and destroy it as soon as possible. I want you two on the sensor and weapons stations at all times."
"But Shipmaster," one of the white-clad ones spoke up, "who will pilot the ship?"
"In all likelihood, one of the Unggoy." He raised his hand at the expected outbursts. "I realize the implications of bestowing such an honor on an Unggoy, but in our current situation sensors and weapons are far more important that maneuvering. If need be, I will take the helm myself, but until then we will have to make do."
The white-armored Sangheili still looked unhappy, but backed down at the logic of the order. The Shipmaster turned to the two remaining red-clad ones. "You two will oversee the stations throughout the ship—one port side, one starboard. I realize this is a lot for you to cover, and I grant you the authority to promote Unggoy to assist you as you see fit."
"Hierarch, the battle has taken its toll on the Unggoy as well," one of the red-clad Sangheili said. "We do not have the numbers to man all weapons stations on the ship."
The Shipmaster tightened his mandibles in a frown; though expected, the problem was still inconvenient. "Prioritize the energy projector and plasma torpedoes," he decided. "Those are our primary armaments against human warships." The asker nodded.
"Additionally," the Shipmaster continued, gesturing to the black-armored one. "Your brother will assist you as needed. Report to him, and he shall report to me."All three Sangheili saluted.
The blue-clad young one spoke up again. "And what would you have me do, Noble Hierarch?" he spat out.
The Shipmaster narrowed his eyes, though the young one was outwardly respectful as required, he could still see the insubordination simmering in the blue-clad one's eyes. Truthfully, the Shipmaster did not want the young one anywhere, or at least anywhere important that he could potentially mess up, or worse, incite a mutiny.
The Special-ops Sangheili spoke up. "I have heard stories of humans attempting to board our warships and destroy them from the inside, and the battle has left a large hole in our hull…"
The Shipmaster smirked internally; guarding the battle damage was perfect: at the exact center of the ship, the slipspace drive room was isolated from the manned weapons stations on the sides, and far away from any remaining critical systems, not to mention surrounded by loyal forces in case he attempted a coup. "We must be prepared for any eventuality," the Shipmaster said, keeping his voice level to maintain the appearance he was not gloating. "Take a small team of Unggoy and Kig-Yar and guard the slipspace drive." Kig-Yar, in the Sangheili's opinion, could be just as dishonorable as a cowardly Unggoy, but at least they would think farther ahead than the Unggoy tended to. Additionally, a Kig-Yar would have far less compunction shooting a rebellious Sangheili in the back if they thought they could get away with it or even be rewarded for it. Any eventuality, indeed.
Judging by the look on the blue-clad youngster's face, he recognized what any eventuality meant too. He sulked away, followed by the other Sangheili as they went to their stations. As the ad-hoc Unggoy bridge crew returned to their stations, the Shipmaster leaned back in his command chair. "Sensors, start scanning the planet. Aside from the human ship, be on the lookout for anything resembling those large guns or a communications array." He steepled his hands in front of him, his eyes glued to the external sensor arrays. It was time to draw the humans out. The hunt was on.
"What the hell is it doing now?"
Nagato sighed as she stood in front of the conference screen. The past week had been the most bizarre experience of her life. It should have been a week of joy, of celebration that the Abyssal menace was contained at last, but instead, that ship…
On the one hand, some might make the argument that the ship was friendly. After all, it had used that rather devastating weapon on the Abyssals, and since arriving had done the same at other above-ground Abyssal bases. But on the other hand…
Nagato remembered the fear in Harvest's voice when they appeared. The spaceship had dove back to earth, and had been huddled in her room in terror ever since. Nothing—not anything the Abyssals tried, or even her version of the Kempeitai—had sparked that kind of reaction out of the frigate. And so far as she could tell, there was only one thing that could make Harvest hide under her bed like a nightmare: her old enemy, the Covenant.
"It's been picking off satellites for days now. Who knows what will happen when it's done with them?" Enterprise said next to her. The American aircraft carrier agreed with Nagato's guess, and such was her aura that she brought the entire American kanmusu program with her. But not everyone else was so convinced, and even then no one had a clue what to do with the almost 1800-meter ship in high orbit. Once again, Nagato was grateful the Abyssals never cut the undersea cables connecting the nations of the world. Whereas once it was so she could talk across the Pacific with her friend Saratoga, now it was so that the politics could still carry on with satellites destroyed.
Politics…with the spectre of death hanging above.
"It first appeared firing on the Abyssals; are we sure it is not friendly?" someone asked, though from the tone of voice they didn't quite believe what they were saying themselves.
"It fired on the Abyssal bases that had orbital guns. That's not being helpful; that's self-interest," Enterprise shot back. In one of the windows on screen, Nagato could see Hood's face tighten. After Saipan, the next place flattened by the ship had been in the South Atlantic. Britain and Argentina had butted heads countless times over the two small islands off the Argentine coast, and even in the height of the Abyssal war with the islands occupied by the enemy, Argentina still objected to any British attempt to clear them, claiming they would free the islands themselves. In the end, whether one referred to them as "Las Malvinas" or "the Falklands" didn't matter. Reduced to barren rock and glass, no one wanted them now.
"You said one of your ship girls had seen this ship before?" the Russian admiral spoke. "Where is she now?"
Nagato opened her mouth to say On her way, when she heard the door open; she looked back, and saw Ooyodo stick her head in and nod. Nagato turned back to the screen. "Right here, admirals," she said, as Akashi wheeled Harvest's rig to the front of the room.
Nagato blinked. She grabbed Ooyodo's arm. "What is this?" she whispered urgently.
"The best I can do," her cruiser responded. "Harvest's barricaded her room. She's hysterical; Tenryuu is doing her best to coax her out, but…"
Nagato cursed internally. This was not what she needed at all. It seemed like those on screen also sensed something up. "What the hell is this supposed to be? This is not the time for a joke," the Chinese admiral said.
Just when Nagato thought her mortification couldn't get any worse, a burst of static came out of the rig, followed by Copeland saying "Override successful" in his mechanical voice. By the time Nagato decided death by AI gone awry might be preferable to death by sheer embarrassment, a new voice came out of the rig.
"Not a joke. Your only hope." A light opened on the CnC portion of the rig, projecting a hologram of a tiny girl. Nagato had seen the hologram work before, mostly showing tactical data, and Harvest said that Smart AIs would often project a holographic figure when interacting with humans, but Nagato had never seen this figure.
The figure's clothes were cut almost exactly like Harvest's, but where Harvest wore a blueish-grey, this figure's clothes were complete black, marred only by a small patch showing a triangle atop an eye. Surprisingly, the figure was also a near-spitting image of a smaller Inazuma, if that was possible. But where the little destroyer's face and eyes spoke of caring and kindness, this figure's face may have been carved from rock, her hard eyes almost questioning, What do you know of war?
Enterprise spoke the question on everyone's mind. "Who…are you?"
The figure turned back to look at the American carrier and smirked. "What, you don't recognize me, Oh-nee?"
Nagato furrowed her brows in confusion. Who would Harvest call onee-chan? The battleship felt her cheeks heat slightly as she tried to think of some connection Harvest might qualify as an older sister. Wait a minute, Nagato realized, she didn't say 'onee', she said 'oh-nee'…
Nagato blinked as her mind suddenly made the connection. In the corner of the room, Yorktown suddenly covered her mouth to hide her smile, as Enterprise just looked nonplussed. Well, the Japanese battleship thought, this just got even more interesting.
A/N: It seems using parts of a scrapped ship has some interesting results when combined with Magical Sparkly Shipgirl Bullshit.
For those who don't get the "Oh-nee" line, sound it out.