Reassemble - Part 3

Location: Vadam Keep, Sanghelios
Daily Time: 1300 Hours
Date: June 11, 2557

"Blarg!" gasped the alien as his back landed onto the hardened floor, his glowing energy sword clattering against the ground. The battle had not been fortunate for the creature so far with various bruises against his skin from multiple landings across the same floor recently.

The mandible-face soldier looked up. From above his head, he could see a large group of young, seven-foot tall split-faced armored creatures standing around him, all in prepped in fighting stances. Judging by their wide eyes and gaping mandibles as well as the lack of scars, he could tell they were all still aspirants, practically fresh trainees, familiar with the concept of battle, but not so much the execution and flow of it.

The Sangheili looked around, trying to get a better idea of where he was. He was lying in the middle of a stone courtyard that had roughly 50-by-50 feet of open, barren rock, bordered on three sides by small, short walls, which in turn were connected to an outer pathway that made a circuit around the court. This was just an interior corridor that was connected to a large, pseudo-Medieval Japanese building, which also made up three of the four sides of the courtyard. The fourth side, however, had a giant wooden door, standing roughly 25 feet tall. It had carvings of warriors that came before, of great battles won in the thousands of years since the formation of the Covenant, and many more from even before that.

He looked straight up into the air as he tried to briefly rest his head from the recent impact. The sky had taken a light blue color, which was quite normal even considering the system's three suns. Every once in a while a small or medium aircraft would fly overhead, zooming by and leaving brief purple, blue, or even red streaks in the air from the aftermath of burning plasma anti-grav engines.

He looked down, bringing his attention to the seven other figures in the courtyard. Five of them he knew, battle-brothers in their own right, all wearing red armor, all of them holding energy swords in their right hands, symbolizing their allegiance to the newly-formed Swords of Sanghelios, but it were the two others that brought him no small amount of concern. They were the ones his brothers were fighting for the moment. One he knew, a tall, well-known Sangheili warrior that went by a strange name, different from most. He knew that this Elite would be difficult to beat, but it was the other figure that took him by surprise. He was very different from the rest of them. It wasn't just his personality that was different, but him in general. He wasn't like them. He was more –

"Jukan," called one of his comrades. He spoke a human language, English, if he could recall properly, what was widely considered the most prominent of the humans' many unique and colorful languages. Though many still spoke Sangheili, warrior and commoner alike, they had also learned at least some amount of the new language, a necessity for many, especially after considering the near disaster during the Great War that ended almost five years ago, where the world as they knew it was nearly destroyed by the folly of the Prophets.

"Jukan, get up," his ally called more urgently. "We could use your help over here." Before he could say anything else, he was swiftly knocked down, kicked by the opposing Elite.

The warrior picked himself up, grabbing his weapon as he did. Brushing himself off, he turned to face the twin opponents his brothers were fighting. Now he could clearly see his opponents. A pair of aqua-colored humanoids, each holding a crackling energy sword in one of their two hands. One was the aforementioned Elite, but the other one, however, was a human warrior. And not just any warrior. This human was dressed head to toe in combat armor, Mark VI MJOLNIR, armor that had been worn by the demons his race had fought against in past years. He had been making quite an impression ever since he first arrived at the capital, grabbing everyone's attention as soon as they had seen him. His personality and mannerisms made him exotic, someone that seemed to uniquely out of place, like an accidental stroke against a canvas that, in contrast to many, only enhanced the painting. He would show everyone otherwise, show them all that there was nothing special about this off-worlder, this human.

He shook the thought from his mind before it could devolve into little more than frustration and anger, trying to concentrate on the battle at hand. From his view he could see that his brothers weren't beating the opposition, even despite the fact that they had superior numbers. They were losing, badly if the plethora of visible bruises were any indication. The Elite gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and charged back into the carnage, his eyes firmly fixed on the human.


"Junior, another one's coming back," shouted the aqua-armored human, his head turned slightly to his Sangheili partner while blocking another of the Elite's blows with his sword. The energy blades crackled as they connected, creating a bright, instantaneous flash of sparks.

"Blarg!" replied the Elite behind him, who was twisting around and weaving between the attacks his two opponents were throwing out.

"I know that! I'm just trying to inform you for the moment!" the human snapped back, taking up another fighting stance as the three other Elites prepared to strike at him again. A split second later the sixth warrior was at him, striking well before the others even took a step forward.

However, the human saw him coming a mile away. He sidestepped to his left, making the energy sword cut through thin air. Twisting quickly, he struck out at the Elite with his empty left hand, punching him in the side of the face. The warrior fell onto his side, knocked cold by the counterattack.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the other three opponents struck out at the man with their swords. Unfortunately for them, the off-worlder was prepared for their attacks and, with quick precision, moved his sword in a blur of motion, deflecting all three of the Elites' blows and knocking each of them back with a punch to their sternums. The Elites roared in anger, their frustration and impatience flaring.

During those same moments the Sangheili known as Junior rushed up to his two opponents and successfully blocked both of their attacks, stopping the one to his right with his sword and the grabbing the wrist of the one to his left. Appearing almost effortlessly, he kicked one in the chest, sending the Elite back a few feet, well out of arm's length. He turned his head to the other red-armored alien and let go of his wrist, only to jab him in the face with the same hand, causing the warrior to bring his hands up and stumble back a few steps.

The duo stood back-to-back, their attention fixed on the six reptilian warriors that had now completely surrounded them. From anyone's perspective it looked as if the two aqua soldiers were, or soon would be, defeated.

"Give it up, human," sneered one of the monstrous aspirants, his body poised to strike, as well as the others. "You won't win this fight. We have you outnumbered."

"Give up?" asked the swordsman in a voice that sounded jubilant, even cocky. "Why the fuck should I? It seems to me that you should be the ones to give up. I've been practically beating you ever since this whole thing started. Same goes to Junior."

The aqua-armored Sangheili grunted in approval. "He's right, you know," he said in a strong, deep voice, speaking in their native language. "You've been going at us for quite a while and look where that's gotten you, all mangled and beaten down."

Three of the aliens growled in denial. "Exactly, dudes," the human continued, apparently seeming to have understood what the Elite behind him said. "Besides, you haven't even given us a scratch since the beginning of the fight."

At that comment the six Elites roared in anger and charged at the duo, bringing up their swords to strike out in rage.

"Switch!" called out the human. Upon hearing the command, the large alien behind him turned to his partner and jumped over him. Simultaneously, the human ducked under. The opposing Elites froze for a split second, confused by the unorthodox movement, before continuing to attack. But one second was all the swordsmen needed.

From under the Sangheili, the human brought his left arm up, hitting his fist up into the jaw of the one to his left. At the same time Junior brought his fist down onto the forehead of the alien to his far left. Both creatures fell hard onto the stone floor, knocked cold by the sudden strikes.

Mere milliseconds passed before the pair continued on. Junior swung his right arm around to the left side of his body in a sweeping motion, knocking the three other Elites' swords over and causing them to stumble. Meanwhile, the aqua human brought his sword arm up, narrowly missing the other Elite's face. It could feel the heat emanating off of the blades. In response, the Elite quickly moved backwards, not wanting to get his face singed.

The twin aqua figures went back to back again, ready to face more resistance. Two of their opponents were knocked out, but that still left four of them alive and well. The four combatants moved forward again, trying to get an edge on their still-unscathed targets.

But as soon as they got within striking distance the duo did something else none of them expected, or seen for that matter, before. In one fluid motion, the two allies turned around and grabbed each other's left wrists. The blue Sangheili, with a grunt of effort, swung his arm around, lifting the human from the ground like a club. Flying into the air, the human hit and knocked over all three of the three Elites closer to his teammate with his legs.

With the continual momentum, Junior twisted his body over to the last elite before letting go of his partner. The SPARTAN went flying, eventually smashing his body into the final red elite. They fell down, the creature landing with a thump on his back, and the human kicked off the large muscular Sangheili, skidding off his opponent and flipping onto the hard, grey stone floor feet-first a few meters away.

Jukan wheezed, trying to catch his breath after having been hit by such a strong blow. Although he had been trained in the ways of the swordsman, he had never seen anything as unpredictable as that. And it wasn't just surprising. It was embarrassing as well. To have been knocked down was shameful, but to have been knocked down by a human was downright disgraceful.

With his remaining strength, the Sangheili placed his hands on the smooth, solid ground and pushed himself up. He suddenly looked around on the floor, realizing that his energy sword was missing. His sword was his life and it was the only way for him to be able to beat the human. No ranged weapons would be allowed for this fight, not that he'd use them on the human to begin with. He swept his gaze around before fixing his eyes on his weapon, the sword still crackling with energy as it lied on its side.

Moving over to it, the Elite bent over and grasped the thin cylindrical hilt of the sword. He stood up, looking across the length of the deadly energy blade as it crackled in the air. To see such a weapon was to see real power, but to hold one was different altogether. To hold one was to have the ability to wield true plasma, a mark of honor among the warriors of Sanghelios, a symbol of honor and death itself. It was a weapon that could cut through almost any armor, that kill land a killing blow against most living things with but a single stroke. It was not to be trifled with. Content, Jukan turned back to the human, holding his sword outward and taking up a fighting stance. The human was already prepared, his left hand slightly in front of him, his sword held back, and his legs spread shoulder-length apart, a classic fighting pose.

The two combatants circled around each other, both ready to strike as soon as the other made a move. All fell silent as the opponents faced each other, their eyes firmly fixed on their opponent. Even Junior seemed to back away, sensing that this was to be a personal thing for them to deal with. Now would not have been a good time to lose concentration, for they were both experienced swordsmen and the one on the defensive had an advantage over their opponent. Their advantage laid in readiness and firm counterattack.

Deciding to make the first move, the red Sangheili rushed forward and swung his sword around in a counterclockwise arc up to his opponent. In response, the aqua human brought his right arm around to his left side and held his sword vertically in a block. The swords collided, causing light to flare up around the weapons.

Jukan brought his arm back before going for an undercut. The greenish-blue human brought his sword down, aligning it horizontally to floor. Again the energy blades struck each other, causing more light to pop up before quickly dissipating. He twisting around clockwise, trying to offset his opponent. Instead, it only made the SPARTAN move faster. The soldier brought his sword around his right side, blocking the Sangheili's attack yet again.

He struck out three more times, all successfully blocked and parried by the human's lightning-fast reflexes. However, upon blocking the third strike, the aqua-colored soldier kicked out with his right foot, hitting his opponent in the chest. The Elite stumbled back, holding his left hand to his belly while still clutching his sword in his right.

Grunting, the Sangheili growled before taking his hand away and stepping forward to deliver another blow. This time, surprisingly, the human sidestepped to the left and punched his opponent in the head. Jukan lurched to his left, this time clutching his face.

Trying to recover, the alien slashed out at his opponent. But instead of blocking, the human ducked under the attack. He heard the sword as is whooshed over his head. Then he kicked out, unexpectedly, at the Elite's right leg. His opponent fell to one knee, bringing his empty hand to the floor once again.

Deciding to finish the duel, the human thumbed the button on his sword, deactivating the power and causing the white-and-blue light to disappear. He then struck out with his left fist. The Elite had no time to react as the human punched out with his right, still holding the hilt of his sword, and then throwing another left hook again, before finishing the combo off with a sweep to his opponent's legs.

The red Sangheili fell on his side, landing on his right arm. He looked up at his opponent, his mind still reeling from the flurry of attacks he had just received. How could someone have moved that fast? He was no SPARTAN, but he somehow still moved like one. He surely hadn't seen anyone else move that way before.

Standing over him, the human reactivated his sword, bringing the twin points of energy out again. He held his sword out until it was up against Jukan's throat, barely an inch from touching his flesh. He could feel the intense energy as it rippled down the sword's edge, intense, deadly, powerful energy.

"I win," the human stated. Behind him, the other five red Sangheili lied across the stone courtyard. Junior stood nearby, his sword still glowing in his own right hand, watching warily in case any of the others decided to get up and challenge them again.

"Stop!" called out a deep voice. Everyone froze on the spot and turned their head toward the source of the voice. Near the gate, a Sangheili in ornate gold armor stood erect, his body in a calm and relaxed posture, with an air of confidence radiating from his very being. From what the human could tell, the Elite's armor was pointed, seeming more metallic than any suit of armor he'd seen before. The surface was covered with intricately-made markings, a clear sign of an artificer's handiwork. The figure's right shoulder pad stood out, being much larger than his other. And on top of his head, the elite wore a smooth, gold helmet, which came over in front of the elite's face at a point.

"Form up!" snapped the Sangheili. Upon hearing the command, the six red Elites shuffled into a straight line. Junior and the human, meanwhile, just stood in unflinching silence.

"Stop looking around and get back to training. Now!" The other Elites, those that had been spectating the entire fight dispersed, moving away from the main pocket of warriors and back to whatever previous task they had deigned important. Stepping forward, the gold-armored Sangheili motioned for the others to rise. The soldiers stood. Those who had their swords active immediately switched them off and magnetized them to their thigh armor.

He moved toward Jukan, the one with whom the human had just recently fought. The newly-arrived alien chuckled. "Looks like you still need to work on basics, Kaia'sai Jukan."

The red soldier responded immediately, trying not to panic from the situation that he knew was coming. "But, Master Vadam, I was merely trying to best the human and his little friend in some friendly dueling."

"You mean our comrades, Lavernius Tucker and Junior." The Sangheili motioned his right hand over to the twin aqua soldiers. Jukan had to swallow the bile that immediately formed in his mouth at the mention of the human's full name. "Show some respect to our associates. They are actually quite helpful around here, if you haven't already been able to tell. They, unlike you, already have combat experience fighting off remnants of the Storm Covenant. Being ambassadors with the UNSC and smoothing out our alliance also puts them in a very helpful standing." He narrowed his eyes at the beaten aspirant. "Don't disrupt them or disrespect them, Kaia'sai. It will cause you to lose your honor. Or maybe," he chuckled, "you would like to become the next Arbiter?"

Jukan's blood ran cold at the suggestion. "O-of course not, master," he stammered out, attempting to regain some semblance of control. "I would never stoop so low."

"Then prove it to me," snapped his lecturer. "Prove to me that you still retain at least some remnant of your honor."

"I will, Arbiter Thel 'Vadam." And with that, the red warrior turned away, shuffling quickly through one of the side hallways. The other five Elites scrambled over to their comrade, disappearing behind the stone walls.

The Arbiter turned to the remaining two fighters. "It's alright, friends. No need to be so formal. You may relax now."

Both of them let out a sigh. "Thanks for the rescue, man," said the aqua-colored human.

"Your quite welcome, Tucker. Glad I could be of assistance."

"You couldn't have come in any sooner, Thel?" asked Junior in manner that was more teasing.

The Arbiter let out a huff of approval. "You know me. I think I'd see how things were going first." The part of his face connected to his mandibles curved up a little, giving a Sangheili's interpretation of a smile. "And it looked like you two had it under control."

"Indeed we did. Nothing a good ol' knock to the ass to get them to remember who I am." The three of them burst out laughing, taking the comment in like a nice, friendly joke.

Looking at the trio, anyone would've thought they were seeing the weirdest group of friends in the world. And they'd probably be right. To see a human, Arbiter, and normal Sangheili would be beyond comprehension to most people, human, and Elite alike. But not to them. To them their friendship fit together as well as bunch of pieces of a puzzle. The leader, the native, and the offworlder. The commander, father, and son. All equally different, but similar at the same time. Each was a yin and yang to each other, perfectly balancing their imperfections and personalities against each other.

After a while the laughter died down and the three people caught their breath. "I know said this a million times by now, but thanks, Arbiter. For letting us stay here," said Tucker. "Without you I don't know where Junior and I would be now."

"The pleasure is all mine, friend." He stopped moving his mandibles and a look of concern suddenly crossed his face.

This time it was the aqua Elite who spoke. "I'm guessing you didn't just come here to watch us spar, did you, Thel?" asked Junior, this time speaking English. He had become fluent in both languages, due to living in a society that was becoming increasingly adept at both as well as the result of his heritage.

Thel 'Vadam let out a sigh and looked up at his friends. "Unfortunately, yes. The keep elders have just received an incoming transmission."

"A transmission?" asked the blue Sangheili. "For who?"

"For the both of you," he answered simply.

"Who the hell would want to call us now of all times?" asked Tucker, now more than a little curious.

"A human by the name of Agent Washington."

Tucker tensed immediately at the mention of the name. He frowned inside his helmet. "Agent Washington?" he asked through gritted teeth. "You're sure?"

"Positive. If I wasn't sure I have come to tell you both personally."

Tucker cocked his head him thought. What would that Freelancer want with them? He hadn't been in contact with him in years. Last he saw of him, he was doing his best to help sweep up the remains of Project Freelancers, with the remaining Simulation troopers in tow. Sure, they'd gotten time to know the guy, even warm up to him a bit, but the stain of betrayal, knowing that he had actively worked with the Meta to find and capture Tex and Church, one of whom he still considered his best friend, still rang loudly in the back of his mind. Such a betrayal was never easy to forget. But perhaps now would be a good time for some answers, now that time had hopefully loosened the tension between them.

Without further ado, the human said, "Well, then let's go see what he wants."

Almost as if on cue, a Covenant Phantom flew down into the courtyard. Shaped like a giant floating purple manta, it hovered over the courtyard, making a constant humming noise. "Huh," said Tucker. "Well, that's convenient." Knowing the Arbiter, it probably wasn't. And with that, the trio stepped into the gravity lift on the bottom of the ship.


Location: Upper Vadam Keep, Sanghelios
Daily Time: 1315 Hours
Date: June 11, 2557

The trio stepped into the well-lit communications room, their back straightened up and their expressions curious yet cautions at the same time.

The chamber was large and round, almost spherical, roughly fifty yards in diameter. It had multiple benched for people to sit, all uniform, all faced toward the opposite side of the entrance, where a large, plasma-powered screen came into view. It was here that the three warriors had their eyes fixed.

Displayed on the projector was a man, a man wearing a full set of steel-colored MJOLNIR Mark VI armor with gold trim on his shoulders, arms, thighs, and part of his helmet. He stood there, his shining gold visor looming over the three armored figures that came into view.

They stopped in the center of the room, their eyes firmly fixed on the screen. Deciding to break the silence, Tucker let out a sigh. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Agent Washington of Project Ass-Face! Come to send us another postcard, have you?" sneered the ex-Blue soldier, the contempt from the Freelancer's past actions apparently not having died down in the slightest.

"Tucker," said Washington slowly, trying to keep the situation calm. "Please. Just stop and let me explai-"

"Explain what?" snapped Tucker, his anger suddenly flaring up. The Arbiter, and Junior for that matter, looked down at him, having never seen the Blue this angry before. "Why you haven't called in the last four years? You couldn't have dropped by, or even left a hello or two through a call? Anything like that? In the last four years?! Well, that's just too fucking bad, jackass, 'cause I ain't playing nice anymo-"

"Tucker, stop!" shouted Wash, his own frustration threatening to surface. The Blue did as commanded, taken aback by the fury in the Freelancer's voice.

Wash closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. There were times when wanted to just punch the Sim troopers for their immaturity, and not just Tucker, although he seemed like a prime target right about now. He needed to take control of the situation before it spun out of control. "Just," he whispered, "let me explain. Please."

Lavernius breathed in deeply, now trying to calm himself down. "Alright, Wash. I'll give you one chance to impress me. What do you want?"

"I need your help. I need you to come with me for a mission."

"A mission?" he questioned. "What's the objective?"

"To stop the Director of Project Freelancer by any means possible."

"Wait, wait, wait," said Tucker, his anger and bitterness now completely replaced by confusion. "Did you just say Director? As in the Director?"

"Yes, Tucker. The Director. He escaped from prison a few days ago and now he's running amuck with the Insurrectionists, who have been leading multiple attacks against the UNSC for the past several days. The UNSC is worried he'll use the knowledge he acquired from Project Freelancers to make a new group of supersoldiers, ones that will lead the Insurrectionists to victory." The Blue stood silent, baffled by the comment. He took a second to process the information. The Director? Escaped? Broken out by Insurrectionists? Now running around doing God-knows-what to help them create people like Wyoming, Washington, the Meta, or Tex? How could they stop someone like him?

After a long pause the Blue restarted the conversation. "I don't believe you."

Wash looked up in surprise at the bluntness of his statement. "Wait, what?"

"Like I said, I don't believe you. There is no way the Director escaped from prison."

"Why not?"

"Because there's no way that's possible, dude. He couldn't have escaped."

"What makes you so certain of that?" Wash questioned.

"Because he was taken by the UNSC, a branded war criminal." Tucker spoke with clarity, conviction in his voice. "And not just the plain UNSC, but ONI of all organizations, taken to some top-level prison so that he'd never seen the light of day. ONI is good at keeping people like him locked away forever."

"But he did, Tucker."

"Doesn't matter what you say, Wash," he cemented himself, "I still don't believe you."

"He's right, Tucker," a new voice spoke, one that Tucker hadn't heard of in years. From off to the right, a man walked onto the screen, his armor of the same make as the Freelancer's, but cobalt blue instead. Tucker recognized that armor almost instantly. He hadn't seen that armor in years, but the times he had seen it brought back memories, so many memories, some of them absolute shit, but many more of fond times, of simpler times.

"Church," he greeted in a happy, almost delighted manner. To see one of his teammates after all these years was remarkable, but to see Church brought a whole new level of glee altogether. "I didn't realize you were here."

"Hell yeah, I am, Tucker, back and better than ever." Tucker could hear the smile and even a little bit of that familiar cockiness in his voice as he spoke. That voice immediately died down and he returned to a more normal composure. "We need you and Junior to come back with us, man, to help stop that bastard Director once and for all."

"You need our help? But how can we help? I don't know about you, but we've been kinda out of the loop for some time now." He threw a glare briefly at Washington. The Freelancer remained unfazed, however. "Besides, if what Wash said was true, then there's no way the four of us can take down the Director. Not apart, anyway."

"No, not apart. But together." This time a different voice called from off screen, a much heavier, more Southern-accented voice. From over to the left, another figure entered the screen. This figure wore a set of red Mark VI MJOLNIR armor.

"Sarge?" exclaimed the aqua soldier. He was just barely able to recognize the Red soldier after all these years. It had been so long since he had seen his enemy, although 'enemy' was quite a stretch for who he had been in all those years they'd fought each other. More like 'begrudging friend who won't admit to the friendship no matter how much you asked'. But become a friend he did, even after all the things they in their time at Blood Gulch.

"Yes, Blue, we are all coming back together again. Apparently Wash here," he gestured to the Freelancer, "needs our help for this one. And this time it's serious."

Given these new sources of information, Tucker looked down in thought. He tried balancing the given information, tried sorting it out, but could see how much of a tight situation everyone was in. If a Freelancer, his best friend, and former enemy were all saying the same thing, then things were as dire as Washington made them out to be. He wanted to argue against it, but the evidence was right before him. Only a fool would argue otherwise, and his mom didn't raise a fool. "What about Arby here and Junior?"

This time it was Thel who spoke. "My place is with my own kind, Lavernius." Tucker turned to face his friend. "I need to coordinate with the Sangheili here on my homeworld. Jul M'dama and his Storm Covenant still pose a great threat, and there's no telling when he will attack next, so my focus must remain here. But I will provide whatever support I can give you for this task. You have my word."

Smiling warmly at the gesture, Tucker looked back at his son. "And what about you, Junior? Will you come with us or stay on Sanghelios?"

"If it's all the same to you, father, I would like to join you on this adventure. It looks this will be one of the biggest battles of your life and, frankly, you're going to need all the help you can get." He did his best to form a smile on his face, but he didn't need to. He could tell his son was excited for this journey, their first real one as father and son. Yes, he was only a few years old, still a child by human years, but he'd grown fast, practically become an adult, a side-effect of the species of Sangheili he'd originally come from. Not only had he physically grown, he'd also grown as a person, matured into a very capable, honorable, and deadly warrior, one Tucker couldn't be more proud of. He wouldn't dare deny Junior this chance to be by his side once more.

"Okay, then." Tucker let out a sigh and turned back to the screen, staring directly into the faces Washington, Church, and Sarge with a look of determination in his eyes. Even with his helmet on, he could tell that they could tell that he was up for what was to come. With such evidence before him and the backing of both his friends and his family, he would face this challenge with pride and conviction. He would face this challenge head-on, just as he did all the times before.

"We're in."