Chapter 6: Fural

News spread quickly in High Charity. The Prophet of Regret had launched an attack on a planet known as Erde-Tyrene; intercepted communications revealed that the humans called it Earth. The residents of the holy city gathered around screens in the streets to watch Regret's fleet go up against what seemed to be the largest human defence force the Covenant had ever seen. And Regret had barely brought any ships with him.

What was Earth to the humans? Fural barely knew what was so important about the planet to the Covenant. Whatever Regret had found there, he only shared it with the Triumvirate and the high council. But what mattered to Fural was that the largest engagement in the war was happening very far away, and he couldn't take part in it.

Fural was angry. Ever since he returned to High Charity he hadn't been given any orders. He hadn't been allowed to join any forces in any battles. Fural had fought tooth and blade, he even killed his own brother, just to receive the title of Blademaster. And now that he had it, it seemed like the Covenant didn't even want him anymore. Maybe this was punishment. If that was the case, then he couldn't argue against it. The release of the Flood on Alpha Halo had partly been his fault.

He thought about returning to the cantina where he had scuffled with the Jiralhanae, hoping that they were still there and willing to continue fighting. Violence was the only thing he had left that made him feel anything. He didn't have a purpose in the greater Covenant anymore. All he could do now was live out the rest of his boring future, or end his life early in a blaze of glory. But he didn't want that. No matter how the Covenant treated him, he would never bring himself to turn against them. He still believed that the Forerunners would guide him to salvation.

Maybe that was what Regret had found on Erde-Tyrene or Earth or whatever it was called. Salvation. Something else that the Forerunners had left behind that would bring the Covenant back onto the path of the Great Journey. If that was true, then Fural needed to go there too. He wanted more than just the violence to satiate him.

Fural trotted down the crowded streets of the holy city. It seemed like he was the only one who wasn't glued to the feeds, even when he entered the recruitment offices. Regret's battlecruisers were destroyed left and right by defence platforms, too distant for Fural to make out on the screen. But he could tell by the amount of ships dropping that there were a lot of them. Fural had taken part in the invasion of the human fortress world of Reach, and even that planet didn't seem as well defended as Erde-Tyrene. There must be something important there! I must find it.

Fural searched around the lobby until he found a tall Sangheili clad in the maroon harness of a Field Marshall. Even though he was watching the screens, at least he seemed to be paying attention to his surroundings. The Marshall turned to Fural and stared him down with what seemed to be a look of judgement.

"I am Fural 'Nasamai," Fural said, unfazed by whatever look the Marshall could give him.

The Marshall's expression changed, and suddenly he bowed before Fural for but a moment. Though the Field Marshall was one of the highest ranks in the Covenant military, they still showed respect to the Sangheili Blademasters. Though Fural didn't feel he deserved that respect, it was still nice to see.

"Field Marshall Sero 'Valoree," the Marshall said as he stood once more. "What is it that you require?"

"I need a ship," Fural spoke plainly. "I don't care how big or small, it just needs to be slipspace capable. I will put together the crew myself."

"And what is the purpose of this ship?" 'Valoree asked, seeming to take mental notes of Fural's request.

Fural didn't know if he should tell the truth or not. He knew he wouldn't be able to just join Regret's fleet unannounced, if he could even join Regret's fleet at all. But he couldn't come up with a lie, at least one that would actually be convincing.

"I will be joining the Prophet of Regret in his assault on Erde-Tyrene," Fural said.

'Valoree turned away for a moment and glanced at the screen. The battle was happening very quickly. The two Syfon-pattern carriers in the fleet had blown straight through humanity's crumbling defences. 'Valoree turned back to Fural with a knowing look.

"You cannot join the Fleet of Sacred Consecration," 'Valoree said, "not without permission from the Prophets themselves. And I don't see you having any proof they gave you permission. Everyone wants to join the fight at Erde-Tyrene, and the time will come for all of us soon."

"Then I will not use the ship until that time comes," Fural said. He knew that 'Valoree would give that answer, but it was still disappointing to hear.

'Valoree paused for a moment before typing into a monitor on his forearm. "I will take your word for it, Blademaster. The Blade of Ages is yours, you may access it any time in docking bay D-24."

"Many thanks, Field Marshall," Fural said. They bowed to one another before Fural turned and left.

Fural didn't plan on betraying his word, he didn't want 'Valoree to suffer for it. Like the Field Marshall said, his time would come soon. He would hold onto the ship until then. But he also needed a crew, and he figured he could spend his free time putting it together. He would start by looking for Jors 'Cinatee, but he wanted to see the ship first.

He followed a map of High Charity to the docking bay 'Valoree directed him to; a transport tube took him there from the city. Though the transport tubes were the fastest method of transportation on High Charity, the immense size of the station still made trips long. He sat in the tube for a long time, alone with his thoughts. Two intrusive voices that sounded the same as his own told him to take the ship and run. One told him to take it before the storm hit, the other told him to take it just to abandon the Covenant. He didn't listen to either.

But he felt in his gut that something bad was coming. If the Jiralhanae rebelled, it could mean the end for the Covenant. Fural had heard the stories of the Unggoy rebellion, though he wasn't alive to see it. If creatures as small and unruly as the Unggoy were able to push even the Sangheili to their limits, Fural feared what the Jiralhanae would be able to do. He wished he could stop thinking about it, but he couldn't force himself to. If he wasn't alone then he was sure he wouldn't be having those thoughts, but it was far too late to stop the tube.

He tried thinking of something different. Jors 'Cinatee was the only other Sangheili that he really knew on High Charity. Everyone else he had known either died on Alpha Halo, or was shipped out to some other front of the war. He hadn't talked with 'Valoree long enough to get to know him, and Thel 'Vadamee was either dead or rotting away in a cell. Jors was Fural's only choice, but he was an obvious choice as well.

Phantoms weren't the only thing Jors could fly, he was a very skilled pilot with any kind of ship. Fural figured the Blade of Ages wouldn't be a very large ship, so he was sure he could make do with one pilot. He hoped Jors was familiar with a lot more people than he was, or there was no way he would be able to put a crew together.

The transport tube eventually made its stop outside of the docking bay, and Fural stepped off of it. Through a window he could see the Blade of Ages set against the backdrop of space. It was a Makar-pattern light corvette, one that would suit Fural's needs perfectly. Fural made his way to the docking tube connected to the corvette, and he walked across as it opened.

An anxiety set in as he slowly made his way across the tube. He felt that it could snap at any moment, and leave him suffocating in space. He sprinted the rest of the way and impatiently waited for the door to cycle and let him in. Once it opened, he rushed through and closed it behind him. He flexed his fists, wanting to punch someone to let his feelings out. But he was alone on the ship as well.

The interior of the Blade of Ages was surprisingly large and open for the small size of the ship. The control room sat one room away from the docking tube, and it was the first place Fural went. It was here where he would realise that he wasn't actually alone. A single Huragok floated in the open air of the command deck, and turned toward Fural as he entered with a startled expression.

"My apologies," Fural said. His voice was almost deafening in the quiet of the ship. "I did not know you were here."

The Huragok floated toward him, signing something with its tentacle-like appendages. But Fural didn't understand. He had never really studied the sign language of the Huragok. When it realised he didn't understand it, it gave him a defeated expression and turned away.

Interesting creature… Fural thought as it floated away from him. He understood that Huragok weren't just biological creatures, but some sort of automaton created by the Forerunners to take care of what they had left behind. Beyond that, he was bewildered by them. They were entirely passive creatures who swore no allegiances, but were enslaved by the Covenant.

Though Fural didn't believe slavery was the best course of action to get a species under control, he knew it was for the greater good. The Covenant wouldn't be where they were without the Huragok.

"I will leave you alone for a moment," Fural said, raising his hands and backing out of the control room. The Huragok blinked three of its eyes at him and made a wheezing sound. It didn't attempt to communicate any further.

Fural stepped back to the docking tube. He figured that Jors would be able to communicate with the Huragok, given how much time he had spent on ships. He gave Jors a call, and waited in the silent halls for his friend to pick up.

"What is it?" Jors asked as he answered.

"Are you busy?" Fural asked, wanting to make sure he wasn't interrupting anything.

"Not particularly. What do you need?"

"I want you to look at something," Fural said. He began pacing through the halls of the Blade of Ages. "Find a transport tube and come to docking bay D-24."

Jors didn't respond for a moment. Fural was about to ask if he was still there when he got an answer. "Alright," Jors said, "I'm on my way."

The connection dropped. Fural was left alone once more. He left the Blade of Ages and made his way back to the docking bay to wait for Jors, sprinting through the docking tube to get across it before anything bad could happen.

Jors showed up much faster than Fural was expecting, and that made him wonder if his trip on the transport tube only felt longer than it actually was. The pilot's eyes were immediately drawn to the corvette outside, and he casted a questioning glance at Fural.

"I requisitioned a ship," Fural said as he approached Jors. "This is the Blade of Ages."

"I see," Jors responded, crossing his arms. His voice was full of thought. "What do you need a stealth corvette for?"

"I want to be ready to join the assault on Erde-Tyrene," Fural said plainly. "And… I want you as a pilot."

"Not surprised," Jors snorted. Fural could hear the ego in his voice. "Do you have a crew ready?"

"No, not yet," Fural sighed. "I was actually wondering if you could help with that."

"I suppose I could… I want to see it up close first."

"Of course," Fural led Jors to the docking tube, and they made their way over. Fural felt just a little safer now that it wasn't just him on the tube. "There's one other thing…"

"Which is?"

"There's a Huragok aboard the ship. I was wondering if you know how to communicate with them."

"I understand their signs, yes," Jors nodded. "But you won't see me signing back to them."

"Well there's no need for that. I'm sure this one understands us just fine."

The ship's airlock cycled, and the two stepped aboard. Jors seemed to immediately go for the control room, and Fural followed him. The Huragok was still there, floating in front of a screen and typing something into it. When the door opened, it turned around and looked between the two Sangheili.

"Is this the only other being on the ship?" Jors asked, not looking away from the Huragok.

"Well, I haven't fully explored it yet," Fural said, "but I assume so. Communicating with this thing is the main reason I called you here so soon."

The Huragok floated closer to Jors and moved its tentacles, signing something to Jors that only he could understand. Once it finished it floated away, and looked at Fural.

"The Huragok says it wasn't aware that the ship had been commissioned," Jors said, translating the Huragok's signs. "You simply startled it when you arrived."

That much had been clear from its expression when it saw him. It started signing to Jors again, looking between the two Sangheili as it did. Fural had no idea how Jors was able to put the thing's movements into words.

"It says it's name is Easy to Drift," Jors translated. "And it asks our names as well."

"Fural 'Nasamai," Fural said, bowing to the creature.

"And I am Jors 'Cinatee," Jors said afterward.

Easy to Drift rubbed its tentacles together, and made an expression that seemed almost like excitement to Fural. He hadn't seen many Huragok up close, but this one seemed almost unusually expressive. He had always seen them as drones singularly devoted to the maintenance of machinery.

"Are they all this expressive?" Fural asked.

"No, not really," Jors said. "This one must have been raised differently. I'm surprised you care."

"I just don't want it bothering me," Fural said. He slowly stepped onto the command deck, it was raised above the rest of the room to signify its importance. He took a seat in the hovering chair at the front of the deck. Though he couldn't really describe the feeling, sitting in the seat just felt right.

Easy to Drift went back to whatever it was doing at the screen, paying no mind to the Sangheili. Jors stood at the chair's side, and the two of them watched a screen in front of them as it displayed a view of the loading docks of High Charity. It was almost mesmerising to see hundreds of ships flying in and leaving, either deploying into battle or dropping off goods. In the distance was the destroyed carcass of Alpha Halo, floating in the orbit of the gas giant behind it. Fural wished he couldn't see it, but he had no control over where High Charity went.

"So, about this crew…" Jors said. "And this ship… What good could we do with this against the human defences at Erde-Tyrene? I've seen the feeds, I know what the humans have there."

"We're in a stealth ship," Fural explained. "We can go straight past their defences without being seen."

"There's more to this than wanting to fight," Jors said, seeing right through Fural. "Tell me."

"I think there's something there," Fural said with a sigh. "Something big, maybe even bigger than the discovery of Alpha Halo. Why else would Regret be so aggressive in his advances? There must be something that can bring us back onto the path of the Great Journey. And whatever it is, I want to find it."

"Before the rest of the Covenant?" Jors crossed his arms.

"It matters not when I find it," Fural slowly stood up from the chair. He looked Jors in the eyes for a moment before looking down at the floor. "My life has lost its purpose, Jors. I have little more left to chase. Finding something, anything, that can bring us any more closer to Godhood is all I have left. The Covenant discarded you like a piece of garbage too."

Jors held his gaze for a moment, but eventually averted his eyes. Fural could tell he wanted to deny that, but they both knew it was true. Halo and its destruction took away their purpose, but whatever Regret was looking for could help them find it again.

"You're right," Jors sighed. He turned back to Fural, dropping his arms to his sides. The promise of flying a stealth corvette had already convinced him to begin with, and the mission only sold him further. "I'll find that crew for you."