The Demon was trapped. Only a locked doorway stood between it and Valarad, and the code to open it was on his side. His senses seemed to kick into overdrive, as he reminded himself to take a moment to think before rushing in to kill it.
He approached a speaker which connected to the entire structure. Looking down at the Demon, he struggled with the words to say. Even now, the Demon looked up past the thick glass at Valarad, causing him to stutter into the microphone.
"My name is Valarad R'Shanai… of the planet R'Shar. I, I was a soldier of the Covenant." So was all he said of himself, but he left out so much, so much that could and should have been said. How could the Demon understand his revenge without understanding his life?
He could not communicate to the Demon his longing for R'Shar, the specific potency it held in his mind, and even if he could, would the Demon even understand?
Oh, what he could tell, of how he fought alongside his many brothers at a very young age. How he mastered the staff until he was the most revered warrior on his little planet. But what good would it be to try and communicate the emotion, the brightness with which he looked on to his life, the love he specially held for his father, and most of all the unceasing happiness he felt after his joining with Tnutak R'Shath, the most beautiful Sangheili woman he would ever meet. At the time his ambitions he left to the wind. Possibly he would remain a man of the Keep, likely he would be Kaidon. Or perhaps he would be summoned to the Covenant, and rise through its ranks and become a Shipmaster. Surely, he'd felt, any path life took him on he would accept with gratitude, because, if nothing else, of what he had already secured for himself at his home.
In fact the Covenant summoned him, and summoned him rather young. The war was going much worse than expected, the fleets were taking large casualties, and while victory was assured, nonetheless Valarad and all his brothers were taken to join the Fleet of Particular Justice. His time with his wife was cut quite short, and while he loved her so greatly already, he severely wished he'd gotten to know her better. But he would be back, surely. Even if it took many cycles, he would return to Tnutak. The day he left for the Covenant, his father and mother encouraged him with words of the incredible honor he would receive. How could Valarad make the Demon understand that if given the chance again, he would have turned away entirely and stayed on R'Shar, living out a happy life. Even then the doubts crept in. What if he died in battle? Or was kept away until he was an old man? Letting go, even for a time, of all he had known was suddenly a hard thing.
Perhaps it would help the Master Chief to know that Valarad had never received any honor for his skill. It was not a matter of emerging from a small water into the ocean of the real world, wherein he was nothing special. He defeated the few Sanghieli who humored him a duel, and quite easily too. But as a minor footsoldier he entered, and as a minor footsoldier he ended his service.
"In my service I was friend to an… to a particularly capable, and, and intelligent Unggoy. Named Payyalp" Surely the Master Chief would wonder at that. Valarad was aware it was a strange relationship.
He left out how this Grunt had been a partaker in its species' rebellion against the Covenant. When the rebellion was squashed, the Prophet of Tolerance had given pardon to him and many other Unggoy who swore allegiance once again to the Covenant, and elevated their positions from squads of fodder to instead fight alongside the Sangheili. The other Elites in Valarad's unit held no respect for Payyalp, but Valarad, fascinated by the first creature of this kind he had seen in person, came to discover that he was actually highly intelligent, and quite skilled with pistol and rifle. Valarad was seen as a tender to the sheep, for the fondness he developed for this Unggoy, and so was never given the chance of ascending in rank. Though he patiently waited for the day when he might wield a proper energy sword, and trained for it every day. Some of his fellow Sangheili came to respect him after he proved without a doubt his skill, and one claimed he might make a good duel against Szatulai, the mightiest swordsman on the fleet, but Payyalp remained his closest friend.
Over the years he got word that many of his brothers had died. He wanted to return to R'Shar. The gears were in motion that he might be let back home, but something came up that stopped that possibility. They had good reason to believe that they had found the Human Birthworld. For the first time Valarad was summoned to High Charity. The beauty and the enormity of it was staggering, such that all the ships in the Fleet of Particular Justice were but a sprinkling of sand in comparison.
The prophet of Truth stood on a stage deep within the city inside and gave a sermon of blessing to a crowd made of every Elite in the Fleet, a crowd of over a hundred thousand. In that moment Valarad truly realized the depth of the majesty of the Covenant, the righteousness of their war against the Humans, and he felt an unshakeable zeal, being in the heart of all that the Covenant was. The Prophet's very words spake resolve into his bones, and he felt, much to his pride, that he might walk into his death at the Prophet's command.
He fought hard on that world. It was not in fact the Human birthworld. At some point, however, he and his squad were recalled to their ship and the ship entered into slipspace. They were chasing after one of the last escaping Human ships, on which there were supposedly Demons.
"We were present on the first Halo… for myself it was a time of great faith, but not Payyalp. In the same breath I might rush to say that's not because of his nature as a Grunt, I might also concede he was a coward. For a fear I could not understand overcame him. When we were deployed to guard a Forerunner relic and heard that the Demon was heading our way, his fear became obvious. Many Elites, Grunts, Jackals and what other Covenant had stood between us, and all had fallen at the Demon's hand. But in truth, I learned the extent of Payyalp's heresy. He had conspired with the other grunts in the platoon. To betray us, and to surrender to the Humans, that their lives might be spared. So he told me, and urged me to join him. I was his friend after all, and he mine, so I did not let myself call him a heretic. I argued with him for much wasted time in his secret place. He had never believed in the Great Journey. He was convinced that the Humans were regular, noble creatures-" he stopped himself, as he had in the past found difficulty resolving this with his experience in the honorability and kindness of certain humans. But he was sure now his complacency with Humans was an evil, and he spoke boldly on. "-That no extermination was necessary, even that they might be the children of the Forerunners themselves! He argued that not only would the Humans have mercy should they surrender themselves, but that it was much greater than what Sangheili were capable of." Valarad had been thrown into a rage, and he went to report the Grunts' treachery to his superiors, but by that time the Demon was too close to worry about anything else.
Only as Valarad heard the growl of primitive engines a ways off did he begin to second-guess. The Demon had killed so many of his kind. Why would he be any different? Especially unable to use a sword to fight him. Perhaps Payyalp and his fellow grunts might be the only ones to survive this exchange. "Perhaps the Humans were truly merciful creatures, I thought. And when you killed the Sangheili directly ahead of us, manning the gun on a heavy vehicle, I discovered something about myself. All that bravery and zeal I had prided myself on was a lie. I receded into the trees. I did not fire at you. I looked to hold onto the one possible chance of survival." Valarad laughed as if crying. "Do you think you would be alive today if so many Elites like myself hadn't been overcome by fear upon your presence?" Valarad looked down at the Demon, looking for some acknowledgement from the Human man beneath the armor, some demystifying gesture to ease his mind, but it merely stared at him, giving no visible movement. No matter. He would rip that helmet right off of him before killing him once and for all.
"You came up on foot to where I had joined the Unggoy." A true sheep herder he was. "At the sound of your arrival, Payyalp cried out in your Human language. 'Don't kill,!' he said. 'We help Humans!' 'Betray Covenant!'"
At last the Demon made a move, turning down his head for a moment.
"Oh, do you remember this particular Grunt?" Valarad pushed his head directly up to the glass. "Does one genuine plea stand out amidst an uncountable sea of murders?" Valarad spoke with a growl in his voice now, much deeper and more menacing than you might have guessed from his size. "You gunned him down. He squealed. And so did all of his friends, who had set down their weapons in a far corner. My cowardice was no more, if for a moment."
John interrupted the Elite who stood above him. "A black skinned Elite jumped towards me and tried to pull away my rifle. I snapped it back and pulled the Elite off its balance. I overpowered it, but it managed to get away."
"Only because your weapon was empty." The two stood and stared at each other in silence, and Valarad began to wonder if his revenge story would mean anything to Chief but another of thousands of Elites yelling at the wind. "Your capabilities were those of my most fearful imaginings. I was weak. Tossed about at your will. Hardly able to get free of your grasp while you tried to replace the ammunition in your weapon. My rage was met with a harsh dose of reality. You were a boulder I tried to crush under my weight. How outmatched I was… I ran fast and far. After I was rescued by a transport ship, I confessed to my guilt. My honor was nothing. Rightly so they brought me to a prison on the far side of the Ring. Far within the depths of it's structure I was one of two Sangheili prisoners held by a hardlight field. There I stayed for many days."
Valarad omitted how many times he thought back to High Charity. Wondered at what that incredible power he felt standing before the Prophet of Truth was, if it was real, and if he might capture it again. His dreams were filled with Truth speaking to the crowd, then suddenly staring straight at him, condemning him with a glance. For so long a time Valarad wondered if he might make some plea with the Forerunners to allow this honorless, heretical Elite aboard the Great Journey.
After a couple days had passed, something strange happened. Lekgolo worms rushed past, coming from far up to the surface. They had fled from their Hunter armor, now moving at a speed not thought possible. "When Halo was destroyed, I was deep underground, on the far side from the explosion, protected in a hardlight shield. And I nearly died."
The ceiling had suddenly slammed Valarad on the head, and accelerated at a rate he could not lift himself from. He was thrown about until any sort of gravity or force was lost.
Flame had rushed through the passages, pushing the shield nearly to its breaking point and blackening the walls.
Every so often the ceiling and floor would buckle towards each other, lighting up the shield but less so each time. One time it would be the ceiling buckling down, and another it would be the floor buckling up, at about a 30 minute period between the buckles and about 10 minutes of more pressure being steadily applied and then released from the hardlight.
The other prisoner died immediately, and Valarad cannibalized his remains. He was only released when the Lekgolo worms came back through, much less in number and seared dark. They feasted on the energy within the shield generator. When the machine ran down, the air popped out where it was once held in. What oxygen hadn't been burned in the explosion was simply flung out into space. Valarad quickly found a breathing apparatus.
"For many, many cycles I survived, killing Lekgolo worms and eating them. Many nights, you see, I would wake to find them biting all on my skin… I was… I haven't the words for how I felt. In truth I only wanted to return to my homeworld. I wanted to see my wife more than anything else. I held on to her memory for encouragement not to take my life with my nonexistent honor. I fed myself her memory for the hope of some escape from dread, until it lost its potency. Until I forgot her face. I only remembered she was beautiful… I had found a radio and called out to whoever could hear me, and for many cycles no one answered. Actually no one ever answered. But as my desperate hope was waning I was saved. Sangheili looking through the scraps arrived at my location…" Valarad tried so hard to express the gravity of his experience, but words could only tell the Demon so much. "I learned from these scrappers what had happened while I festered in the Ring. The Demon, who I encountered on the Ring. He was the one who destroyed it. And he survived. He went on to… to destroy High Charity, to ally so many Elites with Humans, and to, to destroy the Covenant." Valarad struggled with the words. What more could he say? From there he had been taken to the planet Babyl, but he wanted nothing more than to find the Demon and kill it. He eventually got word that the Demon had died, which was a deflation more than anything, since he couldn't get revenge himself. But oh, what a gift! The Demon had not died! And after many cycles of patience, opportunity had come right to him. Was he really here, aboutto fight this fight? The surreal nature was overwhelming.
Valarad spoke one last word into the microphone. "On Babyl I was taken in by the Ascetic clan, and given the title of R'Shanai. Then the Humans invaded, and placed their barrier over the planet. I could not go home. I was stuck there under the oppressive rule of Humanity, like an animal, the subject in their science experiments. How I ever softened to Humans I don't know, but I came to the point where I was actually naive enough to trust and even… to befriend that Spartan Locke. He offered me a chance to make right what was made wrong so long ago now. And like a fool I let my guard down to him. Like a fool I was betrayed, but this time I saw it coming. I killed the Demon known as Spartan Locke. I swear to you our first encounter is no indication of how this one will go.
For in the Ascetic clan I trained day and night, preparing and hoping for this day, until I was the best swordsman among a clan of swordsmen. Until I was made leader of the clan."
"Let me out," said Chief, "walk away and you can put all this behind you."
There was a long, totally deafening silence. Valarad opened his mouth as if to say something, then stepped away from the microphone.
He prepared himself as best he could figure. He once again made sure his energy swords had sufficient fuel. As far as any imagined proceeding of events could go, they had plenty, but he thought through possible scenarios where the Demon escaped and he had to follow it on an extended chase, making sure, so as to leave nothing to catch him surprised.
He fought off, as he had been fighting off for years, the feeling of being out of his league in the fight he was about to partake in. He was well aware that if the Demon was allowed to leave close quarters, it would do so, and it must be assumed it would have the weapons capable of killing Valarad, and he would in turn have no chance of fighting back.
Keeping it at arm length was absolutely necessary. The quicker he could finish it off, the better, but at the same time he reminded himself not to throw himself too unreservedly at it. Swordsmen as good or better than him had likely died that very way.
He was well aware of how much experience in killing his own kind the Demon had under its belt. But he also doubted those other Elites it had killed before had spent so much time and found so much success specifically fighting Humans, and more specifically still in fighting lesser Demons.
Before he could tell himself the Demon wouldn't expect his adeptness against Humans, Valarad caught himself. The Demon would likely always react to any enemy as if it was as deadly as any he'd faced before… perhaps unless gathering otherwise. That was, after all, what Valarad would do. Yes, having survived as many enemies as the Demon had, he must expect this.
From the moment he stepped out to attack, Valarad would need to operate at 100% without a moment of exception until it was surely dead. He couldn't afford to make one mistake, one wrong move, as the Demon would surely see it and do everything in its power to exploit it. He weighed his own physical exhaustion against what he guessed the Demon's was based on how long he knew it to have been fighting, and how long he was allowing it to recover. But he quickly denied himself this, too. He had no way of knowing how much toll the Demon could take, and assuming he was at any kind of weakened state could not lead to any good results.
Complete focus, complete command of all the skill he had ever learned, maximum speed, and if need be maximum endurance were required of him in order to kill 117. And he told himself these were things he could summon, given the flood of adrenaline running through his arteries.
But once again doubt encroached, and he wondered if the best he could possibly do was enough, or worse, if he might slip up at some crucial moment and fail to give it.
He decided to simply stop thinking about it. He thought to himself not to let his emotions control him. He thought about his inability to stop thinking. He thought and thought and thought, and every second he did made him feel a little bit more powerless. But then he reminded himself of a simple fact: He had an energy sword and the Demon did not, and it was trapped in a small space. He then reminded himself not to let that deny the rest of his reservations, as he had considered them over and over for years.
But now it came to him with a sudden resurgence of adrenaline, the fact that after so many years he was now receiving the opportunity he had spent so long anticipating. Was he ready? For a moment he wondered, only to be overwhelmed by emotion, in which he decided to take everything he'd thought to himself with him as it is, as he keyed the door, and entered the room where the Demon stood.
