Chapter 9: Fural

Jors led Fural through the streets of High Charity's residential district. There was someone Jors wanted him to meet, someone who might be interested in joining the crew of the Blade of Ages. Fural didn't know why he was nervous. He had never really cared much about how other people saw him, unless it was his brother. But he was gone now. Why must I think of him all the time?

Jors stopped between the apartment buildings and made his way down the back alleys. Fural wondered what kind of person they were going to meet if they had to go through these shady sections of the city. The pilot hadn't even explained to him who it was. "I know a guy," is all Jors had said. Fural didn't question him.

They stopped at a door hidden at the back of one of the apartment buildings where a pair of Kig-Yar sat outside, warming their hands around a barrel of trash that they lit on fire. The robes they wore were ragged, but shiny jewellery hung from their beaks. So much about them was contradictory, but to Fural that was the average Kig-Yar.

The two Kig-Yar turned to the Sangheili, clasping their hands as if they were about to propose a shady business deal. One of them squawked at Jors, the other stayed silent with a judgemental glare.

"Is Rahg here?" Jors asked.

"Hm, yes he is," the Kig-Yar responded slowly. The Sangheili language almost seemed unnatural coming from a Kig-Yar's beak.

"We're here to see him," Jors explained.

The Kig-Yar looked to his partner for a moment, who gave him a simple shrug. He turned back to Jors, clapping his hands once.

"We weren't aware you were invited," the Kig-Yar said. The tone of his voice was slightly threatening. As if he could take on a Sangheili Blademaster.

"We weren't," Jors crossed his arms. "But why don't you tell him that Jors 'Cinatee is here to talk, see what he says then."

The Kig-Yar turned to his partner, and they nodded. He turned back to Jors as his partner disappeared through the door.

"We will wait here," the Kig-Yar said.

Jors rolled his eyes, and stood against the wall next to the door. Fural stayed in the middle of the alleyway with his hands at his sides. The Kig-Yar stared at him with an unknown expression, if there even was an expression there. Fural admittedly wasn't good at reading the Kig-Yar, but he was at least a little familiar with them.

Pirates and scavengers were what most Kig-Yar were. Fural had to guess that they were the only Covenant species with more members outside of the Covenant than in it. But even if most of the Kig-Yar pirate gangs didn't bow to the Covenant, they still worked together from time to time. If who Fural was about to meet was a Kig-Yar pirate, then he was more concerned about how Jors even knew them than anything else.

The door eventually slid open, and the Kig-Yar stepped out. It said something to the other Kig-Yar in its native tongue, one that Fural poorly understood. The Kig-Yar who was watching them turned to Jors and rubbed his hands together.

"Rahg will see you," he said.

"Great, thanks," Jors said. He beckoned for Fural to follow him, and the two entered the building.

The rooms were hazy and stank of narcotics. Fural felt that simply breathing in the air would make him pass out, so he held his breath as much as he could. Groups of more Kig-Yar huddled at the corners of the rooms, most of them doing some kind of drugs. They approached the door to another room and Jors pushed it open before one of the other Kig-Yar could let them in. The room they entered was large, and at the back of it was a very poorly put together throne built out of Ghost parts. A tall Kig-Yar in a military combat harness sat in the throne, and quickly stood as the two Sangheili entered.

"Ah! 'Cinatee!" the Kig-Yar exclaimed, rushing over to them to shake Jors's hand. He didn't even seem to notice Fural.

"Rahg," Jors nodded to him, his voice much friendlier than what Fural had ever heard. "It's been a while."

"Oh yes yes it has," Rahg said, taking a few steps back. He glanced at Fural and tilted his head. "And you are?"

"Fural 'Nasamai," Fural spoke plainly. "Blademaster."

"Hmm, Blademaster?" Rahg leaned forward and then back in a strange motion. "In-n-n-nteresting… I'm not sure you look the part."

"I'm off duty," Fural said, annoyance creeping up in his voice.

"Well, my apologies!" Rahg said as he retreated to his makeshift throne. "What brings you fine warriors here?"

"Tell him," Jors stepped back to let Rahg focus on Fural.

"We are putting together a crew," Fural explained, "I have commissioned a ship, and we will be using it to join the fight at Erde-Tyrene."

"It's a small ship," Jors explained further. "I know your pirate days are over, but we were wondering if you would like to join us on this adventure."

Rahg rubbed the underside of his beak, and looked down as if he was thinking really hard about the proposition, though Fural could already tell that the Kig-Yar had already made up his mind. He snapped his fingers and clasped his hands together the same way that the Kig-Yar outside had.

"You see, I would love to," Rahg said, "bu-u-u-ut… I've seen the fighting over Erde-Tyrene. It's not my kind of fight. I'm sure you understand."

"By the time we get there I'm sure the fighting will have ended," Jors said. "We're more on the hunt for artefacts, anything of value left behind by the Forerunners."

That seemed to get Rahg's attention. The Kig-Yar tilted his head, and seemed to be listening more intently now. Unbelievable… This is who Jors wants to bring along? He cares not for the Great Journey.

"You said artefacts of value?" Rahg asked.

"Nothing that will be for sale," Fural added.

"Oh I'm sure we can find something we could sell," Rahg said. "We can all benefit from this."

"I will not allow you to auction off any holy artefacts," Fural growled.

"And I won't," Rahg raised his hands. It was clear the Kig-Yar could hear Fural's anger. "But if I find something I can sell, will you let me have it?"

"Is that it? Is making profit all you want from this?"

"Of course! That's how deals work, isn't it? You get what you want, which is a loyal crewmate, and I get what I want: money."

"I can vouch that he will be valuable as a crewmate," Jors said. "This is a good deal."

A money hungry fiend was the last thing Fural wanted on his crew. But he didn't have much of a choice, he needed whatever crewmates he could find. Rahg said he would be loyal, and Jors trusted him enough to vouch for him. He figured the Kig-Yar couldn't be all that bad. Fural just hoped that everyone else Jors had in mind wouldn't be like Rahg.

"Fine. I'll take the deal," Fural said with a sigh.

"Splendid!" Rahg clapped his hands. "When will we be shipping out?"

"We have to put the rest of the crew together first," Jors said. "But I will let you know when we can leave. Just keep your communicator on."

"Will do."

Jors turned to leave the building, and Fural followed him out. Neither of them spoke until they left the alleys and stepped back out onto the main streets. The screens on the sides of the buildings still showed the fighting on Erde-Tyrene. Regret's forces had invaded a human city on the planet's surface, the battle in orbit was long over.

"That was easy," Jors said as they walked along the sidewalk.

"I don't like this," Fural said.

"I know, but this guy is our best bet. He knows the ins and outs of every corvette, he's a good fighter, and he's loyal to whoever is commanding him."

"It seems to me that he's loyal to his paychecks."

"You'll see he's more than that once you get to know him," Jors said. "Trust me."

The two made their way back to Fural's apartment complex, pushing past crowds of Unggoy and rowdy Jiralhanae that had gathered to watch the fighting. Something that Fural noticed was that there were barely any Sangheili in the crowds, all of them had continued doing their jobs as if nothing had changed, but the fight over Erde-Tyrene seemed to be catching everyone else's attention. Evidently it had caught Fural's too.

Fural made it back to his apartment with Jors at his side, and they entered. It was a place where they could talk much more freely. Jors closed the door behind him, and Fural took a seat on his bed. When he felt the hilt of his energy sword press against him realised that it had been a while since the last time he had a violent thought. The quest to build a crew was already enough to take his mind off things, and they hadn't even begun their true mission yet.

"So, Rahg is onboard," Jors said as he sat in a chair across from Fural's bed. "We have Easy to Drift to maintain the ship, and there's us two. That's four."

"Drift doesn't count," Fural said. "It can't fight."

"Right, so three. I don't know many other Sangheili who would join us on this kind of mission, but I could try a few friends. I know an Unggoy who would be more than willing to join us."

"An Unggoy? Seriously?"

"His name is Zimling," Jors said. "And you should not underestimate him. I actually think you two would get along quite well, as he is a very violent person."

"I guess he'll work," Fural sighed.

Fural wished he knew more people. He already wasn't thrilled about Rahg, and this Zimling person didn't seem like a good fit for the crew either. He tried not to judge them before he knew them well enough, but he never really had much faith in any Unggoy that he met. And though he trusted Jors, he wasn't going to trust Rahg in the slightest.

A Makar-pattern corvette could crew hundreds, but it could make do with a skeleton crew, especially if that skeleton crew had a Huragok on it. Fural knew he wouldn't even get close to fifty crew members without support from the actual Covenant military, and if he did get that support then he was sure he wouldn't even get to be the leader of the mission. And it was his mission. It mattered more to him than it would to anyone else.

Fural wanted to have a crew of at least ten, and he wanted it to be mostly consisting of Sangheili. Warriors that he trusted. But everyone that he trusted other than Jors was dead. What would Dom do in this situation? He wouldn't have impatiently commissioned a ship and rushed to fill it with a crew of random people, that's for sure. He would've been patient, and waited his turn to be called into battle. Maybe even considering this mission was a mistake.

Fural convinced himself it wasn't a mistake. He had a reason for everything he did, and he was doing this because it gave him purpose. That had to count for something. It didn't matter who he brought with him, it didn't matter what the journey along the way was like. All that mattered was that he found what he wanted.

"Contact everyone you know," Fural said to Jors. "I would rather we have more Sangheili on our crew but I don't mind any Unggoy or Kig-Yar."

"Understood," Jors nodded. "I'll get everyone that's willing."

"Good. And make it quick. The fighting seems to be happening quickly, and I want to be there as soon as possible."

"As do I. Is that it then?"

"That's it."

Jors stood up from his chair and turned to leave. He stopped as he stepped through the door and gave Fural a nod.

"I'll contact you when the crew is ready," Jors said before he left, closing the door behind him.

Fural longed for company immediately after Jors left, and he was surprised when the violent thoughts didn't come back right away. He felt that he definitely was improving, though it was a slow improvement. He turned on the feed and watched the battle that he wanted so desperately to take part in. A view from Regret's ship, the Solemn Penance, showed the battle in the human city.

The thought of some random world that Regret had stumbled upon having the largest and strongest human defences the Covenant had ever seen was amusing. But that was what made Fural think. What is so important about Erde-Tyrene? He had asked himself that question more times than he could count, and the fighting hadn't even been going on for that long. A full day on High Charity hadn't even passed.

Fural was tired, but he didn't want to sleep. The past weeks taught him that he barely even could sleep. Every time he closed his eyes it was one nightmare after another. The threat he had faced on Alpha Halo was long over, but he didn't think he would ever be able to get over it.

This is how it goes, Fural thought. Every time I'm thinking about something else, it always comes back to Alpha Halo. To the Flood. To Dom. When will it end?

Every day on High Charity was just another day of waiting for something to happen. And whenever something did happen, it was something that Fural could take no part in. He wanted anything that would take his mind off Alpha Halo to happen, but he knew nothing would. Hm… Maybe one thing might.

Fural stood up from his bed and left his apartment. He made his way through the streets and back to the cantina where he had the altercation with the Jiralhanae, and he ordered a drink. When he finished it, he ordered another, and another, and another. Getting intoxicated was the only thing he had to take his mind off things, and it was the easiest way for him to get to sleep as well.

When the bartender warned Fural that he was drinking too much, he threatened them with his sword. He wasn't going to have it from anyone lesser than him. He was the Blademaster, so he got to tell anyone what to do.

He continued drinking until he felt himself slipping away. Only when he slept drunk did he not have any nightmares of the Flood, so when sleep finally came, he embraced it. He dreamed about filling the Blade of Ages to the brim with gold, and swimming through it alongside Rahg and Jors as if it were liquid, he saw the Huragok coating itself with the gold and happily buzzing around as if it even had any concept of money. If he wasn't drunk he would be appalled by it. He didn't know what he was dong to himself.

The dream slowly changed to something more violent, more real. He saw riots in the streets of High Charity, fighting between the lesser species of the Covenant and the Jiralhanae. It's always the Jiralhanae… The screams and shouts of the people in the streets almost sounded real, so real that Fural still heard them when he opened his eyes.

There were no riots happening, but the people around him were exclaiming about something. Fural turned to the screen in front of him, one which even the bartender was glued to. Whatever Regret was looking for on Erde-Tyrene, he had found it.

A slipspace portal opened at the bow of the Solemn Penance, and the ship jumped into the slipstream while it was still in the sky above the city. Fural had heard that jumping into slipspace while in atmosphere was a bad idea, and could prove disastrous. But the view of the Solemn Penance didn't show the aftermath of what had happened to the human city.

Wherever Regret was headed now was the salvation that Fural had wanted to find, and here he was, wasted in a bar without a care left in the world.