Chapter 11 - Dubium
(7th Cycle, 53 Units – Covenant Battle Calendar)
Ulterin System, In orbit over human world of Miridem
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For Fleetmaster Ruca Voramee, the hanger bay of the Ascendant Justice was a familiar sight. The elegant yet gargantuan DDS-class carrier was the pride of the fleet, and on occasion, a second home to him. But today, walking along its 3-kilometer length only served to remind him of the magnitude of his own failure.
He passed some of the crew along the way. Grunts carrying plasma batteries would stop once they saw him coming, quickly scramble to the side and cower in that pitiful posture they always assumed before their betters. Jackals were less reverent. They kept at a fair distance but mostly ignored him as they went about, no doubt scavenging for loose valuables. Then there were those of his kind. Sangheili from the ship's contingent of 40,000 strong would step aside and stand at rigid attention while the officer in golden armor passed. It was a respect Ruca knew he didn't deserve.
He was walking along the far wall of the hanger bay, a titanic space large enough that it held several Corvettes with room to spare, when he stopped. His attention was drawn to the nearby hanger door. Beyond the coliseum-sized energy barrier was the turquoise hued upper atmosphere of the fallen world the humans called Miridem.
Even weeks after, there were still wrecks floating about, namely the cold and dissected hulls of the human ships that had attempted to withstand their glorious advance. One of their destroyers drifted lifelessly a few hundred kilometers from the Justice. He noticed the gaping hole left in its hull and recognized the handiwork of his ships.
The Subfleet of Lawful Unction had been deployed to this system more than a week ago in response to a request for reinforcements from the Supreme Commander of the Third Fleet of Glorious Consequence, Luro 'Taralumee. Having started out with well over 40 ships at the battle's outset, they had been reduced to 13 by the time Ruca and his ships had arrived.
Together they eventually pushed the humans back from the Eastern hemisphere. While Taralumee focused on cleansing the East, Ruca's attention settled on the West.
From the very beginning he'd secretly sent out a team of Silent Shadows assigned to his Subfleet to scout the situation in the West. Through their efforts he was able to keep track of the happenings on the ground there, even approving of a proposed plan to corral the humans in one of their major cities and destroy them before they had a chance to flee. Only that plan had failed, along with the secondary contingency of one Field Marshal Arzon Zotamee. According to Second Blade Officer R'tas Vadumee, a Sangheili he'd known long before he became a Shadow, the enemy had deployed their fabled Demons to fight back against their warriors and won. That created a larger problem: the opportunity the humans now had to escape.
Even this he had planned for. He'd dispatched forces to plant Tyrant AA Cannons in the outskirts of the city called New Memphis. He'd gone so far as to send Ultras as additional security, even dispatching a competent Evocati Delegatus, Ke'il 'Nevumee to supervise the entire effort. Yet that too was a failure thanks to the actions of the human shock troopers.
He couldn't help but wonder, if not marvel, at the outright insanity the human warriors that destroyed the Eastern Tyrants had to possess. Reports claimed that even after one of their dropships was shot down, the humans inside still fought their way to the AA Cannon guarded by none other than 'Nevumee himself and destroyed it. Yes, he couldn't help wondering at the insanity that required. Unless it wasn't insanity.
Ruca caught himself quickly. Bravery was not a human trait; desperation was that mascaraed as bravery. There was no need for such false comparisons to Sangheili. Then again, it was ultimately comparisons that had cost him the final victory.
After learning that the East was open for the planet's surviving population to escape, he moved quickly to stop them. Or so he thought.
Then it happened again.
He could still sense the hesitation of that moment that divided him between whether to face the humans head on or wait for reinforcements. While his Subfleet had been reduced to 6 ships from the original 10, he was certain they would be enough. Yet it wasn't the numbers that made him hesitate.
It paralyzed him once again.
He'd failed to contain a question whose depth of depravity haunted him to no end. It consumed him long enough for critical moments to pass.
By the time he overcame his hesitation it was already too late. The humans began fleeing from Miridem's gravity well where he'd managed to trap them for so long. In his alarmed haste he foolishly ordered one of his ships, The Purity of Purpose, to make a short slipspace jump to stop them. That decision cost him another ship. For reasons still unknown to him, the Purpose was destroyed before it could begin the slaughter. After targeting a small human vessel, the resulting blast effectively decapitated the Destroyer, an unforeseen but simultaneously avoidable failure had he sent his entire Subfleet.
It was at that exact moment that the rest of the Fleet of Particular Justice chose to arrive, just in time to witness the culmination of his incompetence.
The last of the human ships escaped. As if to further insult him, their slipspace wakes collapsed within seconds of their jumps, courtesy of their proximity to the gravity well which effectively disrupted them. That way they couldn't be followed.
What remained was a planet to be burned and a missed opportunity to be singed into his memory, that is if he survived what was to come.
Not long after the battle's 'conclusion', he had been summoned aboard the fleet's flagship to meet with the Supreme Commander. He'd come unarmed, familiarity having prompted it. He hoped that he wasn't wrong for it.
The way to the Justice's bridge was relatively straightforward. In fact, he could walk across the city-sized ship blind and still arrive on time.
He made his way from the hanger to the rest of the ship, navigating kilometers of labyrinthic hallways until he came to a lift. The door opened and he stopped on. He ascended some 20 levels before coming out onto a lengthy corridor. At the end was a door, and beyond that, his judgement.
Two Majors stood guard. They stood at attention as he walked past and the door cycled open for him.
The bridge was a wide room with various surrounding stations. At its center lay the Command Platform, one twice the size of the one aboard his own ship, the Diligent Atonement.
There was only one other occupant.
Standing atop the command platform was a Sangheili dressed in a golden combat harness, much like his own. Where they deferred was the purple cloak that wrapped around his shoulder pauldrons then cascaded down to the floor at his boots.
Ruca noticed that none of the bridge crew were at their stations.
To his surprise, and secret gratitude, the Sangheili on the bridge was turned away from him. His attention was instead settled on the forward communications display projecting from the bulkhead. On the display was none other than Supreme Commander Luro Taralumee. He was sitting in a seat atop the command platform of his own flagship, the Resplendent Fervor.
"As for Lodamee." Taralumee said, ignoring the presence of the new arrival. "The Major managed to acquire a…very special human."
"Special?" The other Supreme Commander asked with a note of sarcasm. "Aren't they all equally detestable? Is there one worse than the other?"
"Indeed, they are loathsome. However, this human was costly to capture. The Major, the fool that he is, sacrificed his entire battalion to abduct it. What made it even more obvious that this one was worth something was because there was a human in special armor acting as their bodyguard."
From the sidelines, Ruca saw the Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice tense almost imperceptibly. "You mean…a Demon was there?"
Taralumee nodded. "Yes, one of those undead creatures that the humans resurrect to fight their battles for them, or so the fables from among our warriors would so have us believe. One of them defended this lesser human female, the one they refer to as Halsey. The Major was able to kill it and abduct the lesser human. The only problem was that by the time he arrived, this Halsey had already been locked away inside a cryo-chamber. I've decided to have this human stored onboard my ship. Once my fleet returns to the holy city, we will have the technicians there work on how to extract our guest without having to risk killing it. Then we'll be free to extract whatever information we wish."
"I understand. My fleet will complete the cleansing of this human world while yours returns for rearmament and resupply. I pray the Gods favor you with a safe journey."
"Until we are deemed worthy to undertake the final journey."
"And walk the path of transcendence."
Ruca watched the display shut off, leaving behind a heavy silence.
The quiet endured for what felt an inscrutable length of time. Ruca sensed every second as his heartbeat rose in his chest, threatening to break from his ribcage and mercifully kill him there. He didn't dare move from the threshold, not until he was called.
Then the Supreme Commander spoke. "Come."
The words alone made him walk forward. Each step felt heaver than the last as he walked up the ramp onto the command platform, stopping a few meters shy of his superior.
There was silence again.
The right hand of Supreme Commander Thel Vadumee rose from his cloak and tossed an object into the air. Ruca caught it. He didn't need his eyes, however, for his trained palms to recognize the feel of an energy sword's handle.
Ruca felt his worries cooled by the dull chill of admission. "I assume you already know."
Thel nodded. "I do."
With his back still turned, the Supreme Commander slowly undid his cloak, allowing it to float gracefully to the floor.
The light of the room was almost repelled by the way it reflected off his golden armor. Ruca spotted the handle of the inactive energy sword he now held in his right hand.
"Supreme Commander Taralumee told me what transpired in orbit, and I was able to personally witness some of it myself."
Ruca gave a slow nod as he inspected his own sword. "I see."
He took a step towards the right side of the command platform. Thel did the same towards the left.
Without words, the two began circling the other with confident strides, observing the other's movements out the corner of their vision. Decades of adulthood could not take away the training of their youth. Weaved into the soul of every Sangheili warrior at a young age were many disciplines, one of them being the art of an honorable duel.
Honorable even unto death, Ruca remembered, as they stopped in tandem. They turned to face each other from where they stood on opposite sides of the platform.
Thel extended his sword arm and his energy sword activated, emerging from the handle in a blink as a crescent base with twin forks of crackling plasma energy. Ruca mirrored his actions.
Thel moved first. Ruca followed suit.
They covered the distance between them in several quick strides before leaping forward. Their swords clashed, creating a shockwave of displaced air that pushed both combatants back several meters.
The test of strength was over. Now came the real duel.
Ruca struck first, lunging with his blade aimed for the Supreme Commander's ribs. Thel sidestepped mid-lunge and span about to slice through the Fleetmaster's exposed shoulder. But Ruca dipped beneath the blow, using his footwork to slide underneath it. He quickly recovered, swinging a foot around to reposition himself as he aimed for his opponent's vulnerable back.
Only it wasn't vulnerable as Thel used his earlier momentum to pivot and catch his opponent's sword with the side of his own. Plasma energy rippled down to their hilts as electrical outbursts flared from the point of contact. They stared the other down, Ruca in slight strain, Thel with a reserved patience.
They broke off and reengaged. Ruca fought to remain on the offensive, barraging the side of Thel's sword while testing for a weakness. It was after an attempt at the other warrior's neck was parried away that he understood his mistake. As Thel had told him the proverb before, that the best offense was a strong defense, he'd forgotten that Thel himself was the living embodiment of that proverb. He specialized in a form of Sangheili swordsmanship that combined modern techniques with ancient combat styles to create what was known as the Exalted Guard fighting style. Few knew it, and even fewer could master it. Ruca just so happened to be facing one such exception, and he realized all too late that by proxy of starting offensively, he had placed Thel within his strongest element. That became clearer after the ninth attempt to slice through his armor was batted away with ease.
He disengaged for a split-second to think. His own fighting style, as few were aware that were still alive after witnessing it, was the quintessential opposite to Thel's. It was a hybrid amalgamation of modern techniques, admittedly, of a less tasteful background.
But tradition could not win him the duel, not against someone of Thel's caliber. He would have to use it. After the heartbeat it took him to consider it, he rushed forward to reengage.
He lunged at Thel's chest to make his intentions seem obvious. At the last second, he feinted to the side as Thel moved to block him and instead swiped at his superior's exposed legs, his weakness. Or not. Thel caught the blade in the middle of its strike regardless.
Ruca ducked away from a response then reengaged, battering Thel's defenses with rapid-fire blows meant to ware him down. Then he would randomly break off and swivel into a crouch to strike out at the Sangheili's lower body, the waistline, the knee and the shin being his regular targets.
Yet Thel caught every attempt. Ruca swiftly backpedaled before he could counter as he probed the Exalted Guard technique for a weakness. Then he remembered that, in the near lifetime he'd known his opponent, and the myriad of duels they shared, he had never actually found that weakness. The same couldn't be said for the other party.
"I thought you would have learned better than this by now." Thel said between blows. The words cut deep for more reasons than Ruca could say, so much that they almost made him stop. He realized then that in his concern for Thel's strength, he'd reverted to his old ways. Even worse, it came up so naturally after all these years despite the endless trainings meant to suppress the dishonorable practice. Still he kept on the offensive, slipping deeper into those old ways.
He slashed at Thel's upper guard then, quickly shifting his left foot back to resettle his weight and open a new avenue of attack on his right, exchanged the sword to his left hand and slashed down at his shoulders. Thel merely flicked his wrist to block it but Ruca wasn't done, fluidly sliding his left foot back and seamlessly passing the blade to the corresponding hand to lash out at his midsection. Thel jabbed down, catching the blade at its arc before it could reach him. He lifted his boot, shifting his weight as he forced the other sword aside, throwing Ruca off balance while bringing his own weapon to bare like the teeth of a Doramir.
It took less than a heartbeat to discern the technique, and even less for Ruca to realize Thel was going on the offensive.
He stumbled away before Thel's foot slammed back down and the downward stab could impale him through his back.
Thel pressed his advantage and dashed forward with his sword leading. Ruca managed to rebalance in time to pass the handle back to his left hand and launch off the opposite foot, using his forward momentum to lean aside from his opponent's lunge. He swung his blade so that it skid across the length of Thel's, eliciting another burst of screaming electrical energy as the two plasma surfaces slid over the other. The move syphoned off energy from the other blade, intensifying his sword's glow as he arced it towards Thel's neck.
Thel fell to a knee to duck beneath the arc of displaced energy, then as Ruca passed, pivoted on his foot, spiraling about to lung upwards with his sword, trapping the Fleetmaster's weapon between the two teeth of his own. He arose with the same motion and spiraled again, plunging Ruca's blade deep into the floor, pinning it there.
Then Thel disgorged his own to strike his immobilized target, but Ruca deactivated his blade and rolled backwards across the command platform before summersaulting off the edge, evading the attack. He landed in a crouch on the ground floor several meters below.
Ruca knew that once Thel went on the offensive, the last place he wanted to be was an enclosed space like the platform. Here on the ground floor Thel would have to come down to fight him in his own element. He stood as the Supreme Commander walked towards the edge.
Thel observed him warily. "You…have forgotten much. I will reteach you."
Ruca tensed, preparing himself.
Thel leaped.
Their blades clashed once more in a burst of sizzling energy as Thel landed, but this time the shockwave forced Ruca back several more meters while the feet of his opponent remained unmoved.
Ruca snapped his mandibles in growing frustration and moved to charge. Thel beat him to it, leaping forward into a roll then coming up to slice at the Fleetmaster. There was another shockwave. Again, Ruca was forced back.
So that was his strategy; using constant direct attacks to keep him from using his advantage of open ground, Ruca realized.
Ruca disengaged and reengaged, struck then leaped back, lashed out then rolled away only to arise into a sinuous stream of attacks. Even that wasn't enough to break through Thel's command of the Exalted Guard which he upheld with each deflection while he aggressively pursued him.
There was another clash of swords that pushed Ruca back. He took a moment to reexamine his surroundings. They were back near the command platform's ramp. He laughed to himself. "Your blade certainly hasn't dulled over these years." He said, turning to Thel.
"I wish that I could say the same for you." Thel replied as he strode forward.
Ruca lashed out first in another stream of rapid blows. Thel dodged them all as expected, but before he could press forward, Ruca fell back to sweep his legs out from under him with a kick. Thel stepped back, almost expecting the move. But Ruca continued his spiral, this time with his energy sword aimed for his adversary's approaching legs via a perfectly balanced, nearly prone form being maneuvered by one hand upholding his entire weight.
The disc-like maneuver was the perfect challenge to Thel's lack of maneuverability, only it wasn't as he jumped high enough into the air to avoid it.
Yet here was an opening.
With Thel off the ground, Ruca had a brief opportunity. He simultaneously coiled the muscles in his arm and legs then sprung up from the floor like the serpentine creatures of his homeworld, pulling his knees in close to his chest so that he rotated up to face his fellow warrior.
Their eyes met as he whipped his sword up towards him.
Thel made no show of his surprise as they clashed in midair. Plasma energy thundered and lightninged out.
Thel forced the blow aside before slamming his powerful knee into Ruca's lower jaw, sending The Fleetmaster flying back and tumbling across the floor. As Thel landed on his feet, Ruca caught himself and swiveled into a defensive crouch.
"Interesting technique." Thel said with an examiner's tone. "And I believe there was one you tried earlier."
He suddenly dashed forward and delivered a series of strikes to Ruca's defense that proved heavy-handed yet fluid. The latter could tell by their heaviness that everything up until now had been Thel holding back in the way that it took more strength and energy to deflect them.
Then Thel did something unexpected.
He pulled back then lashed out again, although this time he twisted his wrists and leaned back slightly in balance with each blow. He hit his mark, slashing across Ruca's energy shield and draining it by a third.
Ruca couldn't stop the immediate follow-up in time as Thel shifted his weight without switching the sword hand in order to slice diagonally, draining his energy shields by another third while barely missing his armor.
With a final shift of his feet, Thel delivered the last swing at his waste. Ruca's shields collapsed completely. Thel never gave him the chance to react as he deactivated his own sword, spiraled about and delivered an upward kick to his lower jaw.
The Fleetmaster flew several meters then crashed to the ground. This time he found it harder to get back up. His shields were utterly drained and slowly recharging.
A shadow descended upon him. He turned as his shields flicked on.
Standing over him, Thel aimed his energy sword and reactivated it so that the blade leaped down to within a centimeter of Ruca's throat, disrupting his energy shield before it could return into place. It flickered then dissipated once more.
The Fleetmaster felt the skin on his neck bristle at the heat. Still he looked Thel in the eyes with a resolved stare.
"That." Thel said. "Is the correct example of what you attempted earlier by switching sword-hands. Only one who is disgraced uses his left, remember that."
Thel switched off his blade and held out a hand. Ruca stared at the gesture for a moment. He then switched off his own weapon, attached it to his belt and took the hand. "I thought you were aiming to kill me."
Thel pulled him up. He looked over his subordinate then laughed. "I was, but only if you failed my test."
Ruca grimaced, still ignoring the pulsating pain in his lower mandibles. "Test?"
Thel nodded towards the center of the room. Ruca followed him back up to the command platform. As they did the forward display reactivated to show the space around the Ascendant Justice. Elements of the fleet, Destroyers, Battlecruisers and others were already descending towards the western surface of Miridem.
"I wanted to ensure for myself that there is still a warrior in you." Thel explained.
Ruca took note of the sizzling hole in the floor and the exhaust that leaked from the partially boiled conduits below. "I know there is no excuse for-"
Thel held up a hand. "Like I stated before, I am fully aware of the situation in orbit. I called you here and tested you to discern if weakness was the cause. That conclusion has fallen short. What I don't know is why you hesitated to finish the work you had already started. Now then…" His gaze hardened. "Why did you hesitate?"
'Why?' Ruca felt his blood boil at the question, though not with anger. He'd hid it from others for years, and from himself for even longer. But the Supreme Commander would only accept the truth. There was no room for lying or devious machinations within the Fleet of Particular Justice. Thel had made that expressly clear after their original formation by a reassembling of the fleets.
He took in a breath and exhaled, though he couldn't bring himself to meet the Supreme Commander's gaze. "Do you…think the humans are worth destroying?"
It was a question no Covenant warrior worth his salt would've had a problem answering. But Thel didn't. Instead he looked him over with a modicum of intrigue and suspicion.
"I have neither the time nor patience for mind games, Fleetmaster Voramee."
Using his last name wasn't lost on Ruca at all. When operating in an official capacity, to call him brother would have been a breach of protocol, however true it may be. Still, in private there was no need for it. Then again, it spoke more to Thel's own firm adherence to military conduct than anything else.
Ruca took in another breath as he glanced up at the screen and the images of other Covenant ships moving down to the West to commence the orbital bombardment.
"I've…had some time to consider the matter…"
"That being the matter of the humans?" Thel asked.
"Yes. In regard to their sin…the one that made them irredeemable before both the Gods…and the Hierarchs."
:********:
"So you believe that this is all…unjustified?" Thel asked, almost daring him to suggest as much.
Ruca shook his head. "No, Supreme Commander. That is not what I meant."
"Explain." Thel gestured for him to go on.
Ruca stopped to gather his thoughts. "Do you recall the history of the Taming of the Lekgolo?"
"What of it?"
"During that time, we tried to eradicate them after we learned the truth of the Rings of Te; what they were and what the Lekgolo had done to the legacy of the Gods there. They committed a great heresy against them in desecrating the orbital. Yet, there was found a number of Lekgolo that ate around the structures belonging to the ancients, thereby being innocent of heresy. Those were the ones we inducted into our Covenant thanks to the work of one who was disgraced."
Thel scrutinized the Fleetmaster closer. "What is your point?"
"My point is that we spared the Lekgolo that did not commit heresy against the Gods. We even let them inside of the Holy Ship. We also spared the Unggoy after their rebellion. Yes, we glassed their homeworld but we did not outrightly declare them a sinful race and wipe them out entirely, even when it was well within our capability to do so."
Ruca's stance straightened as years of festering questions were finally given a voice.
"Why didn't we spare the humans a similar courtesy?"
Thel didn't move to answer so he pressed on. "I am certainly not the first Sangheili to ask these questions. When this war began, the Hierarchs told us that the humans destroyed an entire Reliquary on the world where we first encountered them. We knew this to be true since it was declared to be so by the Holy Ones. We were told that the rest of their kind were heretics and all equally deserving of destruction. But since then…we've found few if any reliquaries beyond those that were discovered during the battles for their first world. How then could the entire species be heretics? Certainly, like the Lekgolo, there would be some who found ancient structures and did not defile them." He pointed to the screen. "My Luminary and that of Supreme Commander Taralumee found no relics on this planet. At the very least, the fact that there are no reliquaries suggests that these humans are…by our own judgements…innocent."
Thel's gaze held within their glaring depths an unmistakable threat. "I hear this and I must wonder, do you…doubt…the words of the Hierarchs?"
Ruca quickly bowed his head in submission. "That is the source of my problem, Supreme Commander. I do believe them, that their words are true, sent from on high. I do believe that the surpassing wisdom of the hierarchs is beyond my grasp, that the humans are perhaps deserving of a higher judgement than what we have executed before. And with all that I have I have served and will continue to serve." His head lowered slightly further. "But I still doubt. And it is not them that I doubt."
"Not the Hierarchs?" Thel asked with genuine inquisitiveness. "Then who?"
Ruca felt that they had reached the heart of his fears. He felt it weigh down his eyes so that again he couldn't bring himself to look at his superior.
"It is us."
"Us?"
Ruca spoke so low that it came out as a whisper. "We Sangheili. What if…a small number of us, a fraction…did something so blasphemous in its magnitude that our entire species was declared irredeemable." Ruca willed his eyes to meet Thel's. "And deemed unworthy in the eyes of the Gods to join the Great Journey."
A silence unlike any other broke out between them.
It was broken when Thel suddenly laughed. "Are you saying that you believe some among our kind could make an error so disastrous that it would cost us all our salvation, one that we've worked towards for generations?"
He was mocking his question, Ruca could tell. Nevertheless, he remained serious. "It happened to the humans."
Thel's mocking air slowly and painfully dissipated into an unamused glare, causing Ruca to stiffen. He strode towards him, then did something Ruca hadn't been expecting by placing a hand on his shoulder. "What do you see?" Thel asked, pointing to the screen.
Ruca looked up. "I see a human world burning."
"That is not all there is. There is also the rest of my fleet. You could have looked up there yourself and seen your own fleet…were it so easy."
Ruca could feel where the conversation was going. "We've spoken on this matter before, Supreme Commander. I swore to myself that I would not forsake my name, not again."
"I understand that." Thel sighed. "However, you and I both know that without it, and with the caliber of skill you possess, that you could have become a Supreme Commander by now just as I am."
"I will accept the cost. I will remain steadfast as long as I do not return to what that name represented."
"Will you really? From what I've seen, you still have some of that representation within you, and it worries me." He turned to Ruca. "I knew your discipline had frayed by the way that you fought, fine at first until you began falling back into what you were taught to avoid. Arguably that is what gave me the upper hand."
Ruca remained adamant. "I am still able."
"I know you are. However, you willingly bare a name that most would swiftly relinquish if they were able. Do not compound your situation now with doubt…especially of your own kin."
Thel pointed at the screen once more. "Those are our kin; they share our nature. Do you doubt that a single one of them will stand fast? Not a soul amongst my fleet would rather risk facing failure over their own demise, at the hands of their own sword or mine." He removed his hand from Ruca's shoulder.
"However, should such a one be found among our ranks then I will personally see to it that they are removed before their cowardice can taint the rest of my fleet." He slowly rounded on his subordinate. "Is that understood, Fleetmaster Voramee?"
Ruca stood at attention. "Yes, Supreme Commander."
"Then you're dismissed. Return to your remaining Subfleet and assist in the bombardments at the Southern Pole. After a few days we will return to the holy city to refuel and rearm. Hopefully, there we can find you additional ships to fill in for those lost in this battle."
Ruca bowed once more, then turned and made his way down the ramp. He stopped in the threshold of the exit, considering something. He remained quiet, however, and left the bridge without another word.
:********:
For the first time in a long while Thel felt uncertain. It wasn't about his own faith, but that of his Fleetmaster. Their conversation had bordered on the heretical. Thankfully Ruca expressed that his faith was still in the word of the Prophets. That came as a subtle relief. That said, he couldn't ignore the doubt that the Fleetmaster felt towards his own kind, a doubt that could cost lives, and in this case, costed them the lives they could have extinguished from amongst the inhabitant humans here.
He hoped now that he had reached him over those doubts. Though he would never admit it to him personally, Ruca was his best officer within the fleet. He was able to think on his feet and apply himself quickly to tactically intractable situations. That trait alone had manifested in the way he'd successfully turned what could have been the defeat of the Third Fleet of Glorious Consequence into an absolute victory over the human fleets. And that with just 10 ships.
He had potential, one that he couldn't allow to be wasted, not when the work of the Gods was at stake.
Thel refocused his attention on the report made by Second Blade Officer R'tas Vadumee. Or rather R'tas as he'd known him. He marveled at the way that even with his own mind he kept at that authoritative distance. It was one necessary for leadership, for commanding respect and cohesion. But it occasionally bothered him every so often when it came to such matters as those he knew.
He held up a hand and the display changed, showing images of the fighting that occurred in one of their cities at a structure called a Starport. He ran through images taken by R'tas' Silent Shadow unit which showed as Covenant forces overwhelmed human defenses. But then the situation began to change, showing how Covenant warriors were beaten back by the humans who were rallying behind figures in special armor.
As he came across the first image of these 'special' humans he couldn't help but shiver with disgust. He remembered how, years ago, he felt a similar revulsion while on a mission for a Hierarch. That mission had cost him the lives of his entire command at the time including a subordinate whom Ruca was starting to remind him of, which was why he was so adamant to correct the Fleetmaster's course now before it was too late for him. That distant time had brought Thel to a dire crossroads in his own faith when he found himself at the center of a conflict of interests of unspeakable proportions. It was for that very same reason that he vowed no such conflict of interests would ever exist within his fleet.
Above all, he remembered the Demon.
That human, no, that creature in gray armor that had assailed him on a Kig'Yar ship, had fought him in hand to hand combat, and nearly won. 'Unholy Alien', he had called it as he strained against it. He remembered seeing the human numerical symbols on its breastplate: '006'.
The Demons in these images wore different colored armor from the one he'd fought but possessed similar numerals. It meant that there were likely more of them.
As he saw one image after another of warriors slain at their hands, Thel decided that these creatures would have to be dealt with sooner or later, and he already had in mind the perfect counter.
He flicked through more images until he came to a stop at one that showed a single Demon leading two others. It was running extremely fast and firing at something offscreen.
Thel forced down his revulsion for the sake of curiosity as he looked at what might be a potential leader among these strange aliens. He found what he was looking for in the numerals on its left breastplate: '117'.
Dubium – Doubt