Chapter 3 – Diffidentia
(6th Cycle, 24 Units - Covenant Battle Calendar), 9th Age of Reclamation
Epsilon Eridani System, In Atmosphere over human world of Reach
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Supreme Commander Rho Barutamee cursed his fortunes as well as the womb that made him live to bear them. It would have been better, he supposed, that his mother smothered him at his birth rather than suffering him to see what would become of his ambitions. It would have been better if he weren't alive at all. At the rate at which his plans were unravelling, perhaps that fate wouldn't be long in coming.
From the bridge of his personal carrier, the Long Night of Solace, he felt no solace at all. There was no comfort to be had in the events playing out on his forward screen, only contrition. How morbidly ironic was it then that he could do nothing more than watch the recording of the Hand of Contrition, one of his own corvettes, plunging into the ocean of the human world.
The high-kinetic projectile fired from one of their wretched defense platforms was a match even for a Kerel-pattern assault carrier. By comparison, the small corvette stood no chance.
According to reports compiled by the Solace's communications officers, the instant the Hand of Contrition's control of the surrounding airspace was lost, its shipmaster, Thusze Tulkamee, attempted a retreat. An unordered retreat, a cowardly withdrawal. Tulkamee had abandoned his post with many of his warriors still deployed in the field. He left them to be slaughtered at the hands of the infidels and their demons. As such, he too was cut down. Barutamee would have considered it divine justice had it not come from the hands of the humans. To be slain by one's foes was indeed a fate fit for a betrayer of blood like Thusze, even by humans, but not now. Now it was simply a massive inconvenience.
For such trouble, Barutamee gave the order to ignore the SOS signal that came from the Hand of Contrition as it sunk into the ocean. He was remorseful at watching its stern slip beneath the waves, not at losing the ship itself but at losing the advantage that had gotten him this far: stealth and the element of surprise.
Stealth and surprise were precious commodities that were almost always in danger of running out. They could be lost at a moment's notice. For a fleet like that of Valiant Prudence, time and resources made them in increasingly shorter supply over the years.
The fleet possessed only a single chain of command at its outset. The shipmasters were accountable to their supreme commander. Barutamee in turn was accountable to their patron benefactors, the partly-monastic Ministry of Fervent Intercession. They were among the smaller, more specialized ministries operating under the watchful eye of the Ministry of Resolution, the very same one in charge of the direction of the war against the human disease. Their all-consuming affinity for all things divine, namely with securing holy reliquaries, often put them into conflict with the Ministry of Relic Safety, an equally small organ of the Covenant administration in charge of doing as its name suggested. These conflicts were sometimes resolved by Resolution either peacefully or not so peacefully, but not all of them. Valiant Prudence was a part of that unspoken contest between Fervent Intercession and Relic Safety to be the first to secure what relics could be found among the human worlds. It was one of if not Intercession's greatest fleet up until the very moment that it was not.
Following its catastrophic losses at the battle for the human world of 'Ballast', Valiant Prudence was relegated to little more than a scouting force. Worse yet, it became a scouting force for another fleet.
Supreme Commander Thel Vadamee was a great warrior, an excellent navigator and an even greater naval commander. Few in the Covenant could deny this when factoring in the undefeated streak he had toted for what was approaching two decades. He was so proficient that, all things considered, he was among the few that most Sangheili could agree to call 'the spearheads' of the war.
Barutamee hadn't hated to admit that fact before. Now, he loathed it. He loathed Vadamee, for taking his ships and for essentially taking his authority by reason of the former. Indeed, it was given him by the Hierarchs. The Triumvirate, in their wisdom, decided it best to keep Valiant Prudence reserved to 'archeological research and recovery'. This was at the heart of its original purpose of course. Yet to tell a warrior that he was no longer a warrior was to tell him to deny the very blood in his veins. It was fighting blood, Sangheili blood. It was restless if it couldn't spill that of others or have its own shed in glorious battle.
Even so, the word of the Hierarchs was as the word of the Gods: final and absolute. There was no changing it, no amending it, only 'reinterpreting' it as the need arose. And there was much need of reinterpretations since that day in the inner sanctum.
Archeological research and recovery required a variety of practices necessary to preserve whatever was to be recovered. Relics, once found, needed to be protected from infidels and heretics who might seek to defile them. The San'Shyuum knew this best, and the Sangheili knew best how to defend them.
Barutamee understood this and apparently so did Vadamee. To his extreme surprise, his fellow supreme commander approached him shortly after their meeting with the Hierarchs. He expressed his sympathy at the loss of so much of his fleet. He didn't stop there. Vadamee offered to help him rebuild said fleet as well. The talented commander had many admirers among the Covenant's administrative offices and thus possessed many connections, especially since he was of the long-respected House of Vadam. He could provide Barutamee with additional ships fresh from the assembly forges to reinforce his decimated fleet. He could also negotiate with the ship registries within the ministry networks to have those ships registered to Valiant Prudence without the kind of fanfare that would attract the attention of the Hierarchs. He said he could do it, and after accepting his deal, he did as he said. The restoration of the Fleet of Valiant Prudence to nearly its original strength was accomplished over the last few cycles. Each new addition came in some time after the other in order to avoid too much scrutiny from above.
Ultimately, Barutamee received 30 more heavy corvettes, 11 CCS cruisers and two more ORS-class heavy cruisers. He also received the newly trained crews needed to man them.
The reason for Vadamee's charity did not escape Barutamee. He himself did not seem too excited about an unofficial merger of their fleets either. There was something deeply emasculating about one commander having to knuckle under to another of equal rank, degrading for both sides involved really. Vadamee must have understood this and decided to give him some much-needed breathing room.
It was almost honorable. Yet it didn't change how Barutamee felt knowing he needed the aid of another officer just to affirm that he was still one himself. Vadamee was much more powerful than he looked, even outside the battlefield. His rearmament of Valiant Prudence was proof of that. In fact, Barutamee didn't consider it too far-fetched a comparison to consider him as a plausible successor to the near mythical Imperial Admiral, 'Xytan Jar Wattinree. But it only grew his hatred for him. He was a Sangheili among Sangheili and was still technically the one in charge between them. Valiant Prudence still had to cease their efforts if combat and planetary cleansing were required. This was the case for every human world once it was reported.
If it was reported.
There lay Barutamee's loophole.
In the days that followed their restoration, Valiant Prudence came across a number of worlds highlighted by their new luminary. Most were uninhabited. The Forerunner relics they found on them were holy, yes, but negligible at best. None of them offered clues to the treasure he sought. Then their fortunes changed following their recent arrival in another system.
The humans called it 'Beta Eridani'. It's worth must not have been too substantial to the humans because the resistance they met there was trivial. Most of their ships fled the system while those few that remained were massacred. Though the humans didn't value it, it's worth to him was great. A significant find was made on one of its planets: a trove of relics. These were recovered for his own personal study and processed through the Solace's luminary. The information gathered from its findings made his soul quake within him.
It pointed to another star system. From what the symbolic connotations around its stellar coordinates suggested, it was leading him to a clue as to the location that had held his desires enthralled for decades: The Forerunner capital city of Maethrillian.
The treasure of treasures, the jewel of jewels, Maethrillian was possibly the holiest site of all, perhaps second only to the sacred rings. Recovered Forerunner texts and studies of the Covenant's holy writ showed that in earlier days it was a point of pilgrimage even for the ancients themselves.
They had to find it.
He had to find it.
He had made it his life's quest. He had vowed he would not perish until he had pinpointed its location and beheld it himself. To see such a rapturous sight as the holy city whose glory far outshined that of High Charity would be the culmination of all his labors. Only undergoing the Great Journey itself could rival it. The majesty he would behold would be immense. So would the glory that would be bestowed upon his name and that of his entire lineage for finding it. Eternal prestige no longer needed to wait for the life to come. It was out there in the dark depths of the galaxy, waiting for a devout soul to discover it, to pull it out from that darkness into the light, and a devout soul certainly would find it.
Or so he thought at first.
He turned away from the forward display as the recording of the Hand of Contrition's destruction replayed itself. He set his attention on the rest of the bridge. Beneath his command platform, the bridge crew were working at an extensive array of stations. There were communications, weapons, navigations and troop logistics sections each trying to keep their own sphere of the invasion intact. He was careful to watch for the mood of his officers as they went about their tasks.
The atmosphere was unsettled and somewhat chaotic.
Logistics was receiving repeated contacts from abandoned holdouts from the Hand of Contrition. Urgent requests for refueling, evacuation and reinforcements had to be managed carefully. There was no chance of a helpful answer for the vast majority of the requests. They were doomed. So many of them were from the new additions to the fleet that they didn't have the experience to properly comprehend their predicament. Their understanding of their fates hadn't settled in yet and so they were still wrestling with the inevitable.
Barutamee wanted to stay back and let the situation simmer for a while. No need to attract more attention than they already had. Logistics was carrying out his orders and reorganizing parts of the fleet in close proximity to the site where the Contrition went down. They were also doing their best to assure those left behind that they would receive reinforcements, reinforcements that in truth would never arrive and salvation that would never come.
Weapons were cycling greater percentages of the Solace's plasma through its conduit network to the carrier's various weapons. They were following his larger, fleet-wide order to prepare for an immediate counterattack. The main landing site that Valiant Prudence had established on the human world as well as several dozen smaller locations were expected to take a hit. There was no telling how well his precautions would work against an enemy no longer ignorant of their presence. Patrols were tightened and security measures bolstered.
Communications were keeping every channel open to the rest of the fleet to keep track of every ship and its status. Lastly, Navigations was doing nothing. It didn't need to. The carrier was exactly where it needed to be. It would remain hidden where it was until he decided otherwise.
The atmosphere on the bridge was not yet rebellious. He was on the lookout for the smallest hint of it however. After so many setbacks, he wasn't wrong to watch for hesitation, disagreeableness or open disobedience to his orders.
The loss of several of his fleet's fiercest warriors was the first setback. The Devoted Sentries he sent to one of the planet's relays were meant to take it offline. They achieved their objective temporarily and at the cost of their lives. Reports on what precisely happened to them were scanty but there was sufficient evidence to suggest they and the rest of their strike force were wiped out. It was supposed that a team of demons, the troublesome parasites they were, were responsible. The relay was once again in human hands and it was anyone's best guess as to when they would be able to use it.
His original hope was to isolate the planet from potential reinforcements, granting him free reign over its relics. With that part of his plan undone, he was presently running on borrowed time.
Admittedly, he had panicked and decided to attempt taking the human facility that had just cost him the Contrition. The luminary was never wrong. It pointed to the site or somewhere directly beneath it as possessing a strong connection to Maethrillian. He wanted to secure it while he had the chance. Even then, a combination of cowardice, demons and one of their cursed orbital platforms ruined that opportunity as well.
He was not about to give up on his search. To quit here went against every instinct. So did calling for help. Requesting aid from Vadamee and informing him of this human world was out of the question. He would never allow him to be the one to secure the relic and to potentially find the capital. That glory was his and his alone. Vadamee had more than enough, more than he knew what to do with, so Barutamee intended to use it as a stepping stone to his own.
His name would be remembered for the deed, not Vadamee's.
He would protect his trove of Forerunner secrets until he was good and ready to tell all of what he'd found. To ensure this, he ordered his shipmasters not to issue a report to or to contact any ministry before they had a full accounting of all the relics on this world, this 'Reach'. They couldn't risk committing heresy by glassing parts of the planet with undiscovered relics, or so was his excuse. The very idea of unintentional heresy was enough to keep every shipmaster's mouth shut. Although there was one for which he held suspicion and rightfully so.
From his command chair on the bridge's central platform, he contemplated his next moves carefully. He sat on it like a throne with his purple cloak draped around him, reminding him of the judge-kings of old. He would hardly have most of his present problems had he merely a half of their ancient wisdom.
"Communications," he said at last. "Raise Shipmaster Utaralee."
The responsible officers responded in kind and before long a screen projected in front of him. The Sangheili standing at the center of it was nearly a mirror reflection of himself. He wore a similar golden armor to his own though without the cloak. He stood atop the command platform on the bridge of his own ship, the RSO-class heavy cruiser Blessed Conviction, with the confident bearing of an officer. It was appropriate decorum for the Sangheili that served as his second-in-command.
Shipmaster Kantar 'Utaralee bowed his head. "Commander."
"Shipmaster, I bring you greetings. I pray they are not received at an inconvenience."
Utaralee bowed more deeply. "It is never an inconvenience to be addressed by one's superior. What do you wish to speak with me about?"
"That field of planetesimals I asked you to investigate on the edge of this system, the one the humans call the 'Oort cloud', have you finished your search of it?"
Utaralee raised his head and stood at attention. "Not as yet. There is still work to be done. I've sent out small teams to search its outer regions. We've confirmed there is a small human presence within this formation. However, we have not been able to confirm the presence of any reliquaries."
"Confirm?" Barutamee's mandibles parted in the human equivalent of a frown. "Do you doubt the validity of the luminary?"
Utaralee quickly realized his mistake and his gaze dropped shamefully to the floor. "Forgive me, commander. I misspoke."
"Yes, you did." Barutamee's grip tightened on the armrests of his chair. "I would not like to assume that slip of the tongue was on purpose. Or is it the case that you've lost a measure of your faith?"
"Forgive me, commander. My faith is strong. However, the recovery teams grow restless. Their telemetry drones do not detect the relic that the luminary assures us is there. I believe it is. It may be that our drones are faulty or that the relic is special in that it cannot be detected by them-"
"Careful, shipmaster." Barutamee warned. "Once again, you tread on holy ground. Everything we have, even those drones, are gifts granted to us by the grace of the Gods through the wisdom of their Holy Ones. There cannot be a 'fault' as you say."
"...Forgive me, commander."
Barutamee allowed his rebuke to settle before he dismissed the tension with a wave of his hand. "It must be the second option. The relic is special, so special in fact that only the light of the luminary can detect it. Do not trouble yourself over this. Though I cannot part with the luminary, I am certain there is another way forward. Pray. If we are indeed righteous then the Gods will see fit to intervene on our behalf. Petition them and they will guide you, shipmaster."
Utaralee stood straight again, his countenance beaming with newfound confidence. "It will be done, commander. If we are righteous as you say then there can be no doubt. The relic will be found, I swear it."
"Good." Barutamee clacked his mandibles together as he considered something else. "And one thing more. I will tell you this first before I make the general announcement to the rest of Valiant Prudence."
"Speak it, commander, and it will be obeyed."
It was the answer the supreme commander was hoping for, willingness even in the face of the unknown. "If our perimeters hold against the humans, I aim to launch a secondary assault. It will be directed at that facility near the holiest relic on this world. It must be acquired before the humans realize what we are after. I have two requirements of you. The first is that if the Gods choose not to reveal the relic to you before then, you will withdraw all your forces and focus them on the secondary assault."
"It will be done, leader. And the second?"
Barutamee leaned closer. "Keep an eye on the shipmaster of the Ardent Prayer."
"Moretumee?"
"Yes. He has shown himself to be one of a 'loose tongue' in the past. Our purposes here are sacrosanct. They require the utmost secrecy, even with regards to our own. If words are spoken out of turn by those without the authority to speak them, I fear we may yet lose the relics we seek. I cannot think of a more damnable heresy than to lose precious gifts to the negligence of others. So observe him, because I will not see my fleet damned for triggering a response to the humans on this world which, as detestable as they are, might lead to the destruction of those gifts which the Gods have entrusted to our keeping. This cannot be allowed to happen, shipmaster. Are my words clear to you?"
"As clear as the truth by which we abide. Have no fear. I will do my best to monitor his communications."
"Well said. Go now and see to it."
Utaralee nodded reverently. "Until we are deemed worthy to undertake the final journey."
"And walk the path of transcendence." Finishing the departure benediction, Barutamee pressed an icon on his display that ended the transmission. He sighed as he leaned forward in his chair, cupping his lower mandibles in his hand as he sat in thought.
There was work to be done. Much work. Not only was his mission at stake but his desires as well. The loss of the Hand of Contrition was indeed a setback but he would make sure that it was a minor one. There were still many more sacrifices to be made, threats from without and possibly from within to be contended with. If he was to fulfill his dream, to find the ancient of ancients, Maethrillian, then he could not allow himself to panic at the loss of a mere corvette. Not when hundreds of thousands of souls and tens of more ships still looked to him for leadership.
And he would lead them, no matter the cost. After all, there were none better fitted for the challenge, none better suited for the rank, none better prepared for the glory.
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Shipmaster Ardo 'Moretumee had his beliefs. The one convicting him most was the belief that there was no honest thinking Sangheili who did not see the actions of Supreme Commander Barutamee as anything less than insane.
He held many reservations towards the supreme commander when he and his newly forged crew were first inducted into his fleet. That said, he also held a modicum of respect for him as any officer would for his superior. Yet rank hadn't blinded him to the glaring deficiencies in his leadership.
First was the blatant disregard he showed for the orders of the Hierarchs. This blatancy made itself known during the battle for the human system of Beta Eridani. Rather than remaining on the edge of the newly discovered system and calling for the Fleet of Particular Justice as instructed, Barutamee did the opposite. He willfully engaged the enemy, at least those who didn't turn and run, the cowards. And yet, how glorious is it for cowards to flee before the ill-advised wrath of a disobedient servant? Yes, he was a servant. A servant to the Covenant, to the Hierarchs, to the Gods. And yet here he was flouting their judgements and acting as both a god and a master unto himself.
Moretumee was aware his crew lacked the experience of other veteran ships in the fleet. Despite that, he had enough experience of his own to know when a superior officer was superseding his boundaries. He knew this because he was one himself: a Sangheili general. Regardless of his family's well-established connections to the High Council, he had earned the rank and everything attached to it. He refused to be handed it by ident of birth and, thankfully, his family was of the same mind. He gained nothing that he didn't cause himself to earn, neither reward nor punishment. He wore his horned helmet just as proudly as he did every scar on his back wrought by the wrath of the whip. It made him the warrior that he was. In more recent times, after his transition to the naval side of the war, it made him the shipmaster that he always wanted to be.
Any glory he gained over the course of his career was deserved, and yet here he was under the command of an officer who wished to lay claim to more glory than he was due.
He wished to lay hold of the riches buried on this human world and scattered throughout the surrounding star system. In doing so he would make himself the apple of the eye of the Gods and their prophets. However blinded he was by that lofty vision, Moretumee could see far more plainly. Barutamee was a Sangheili in appearance but a Kig-Yar in spirit, a treasurer of treasures and a hoarder of hordes. Few knew of the great trove of relics in his personal possession and even fewer knew how expansive it truly was. From what Moretumee gathered, it was far more than what a supreme commander could honestly admit was his proper share. Undoubtedly, he was in the possession of relics that had never been accounted for by the appropriate ministries. With this new world, he aimed to expand his riches beyond measure, and for its price he would gladly lead them all into damnation.
To defy the will of the Prophets was tantamount to defying the Gods themselves, heresy all the same. What was it then to do so for the sake of keeping them from finding out about more relics, relics that would lead them to greater revelations of the divine? Failure was compounded upon sin when Moretumee's fellow shipmaster, Thusze Tulkamee, perished along with all of his crew aboard the Hand of Contrition. His cowardice in his final moments was saddening but so was the larger reality that was the Fleet of Valiant Prudence's rebellion against the will of the Hierarchs. Moretumee saw Tulkamee's loss of heart as a sign of the greater problem, that the Gods had indeed abandoned them.
There were many more signs as well. He had made many scans of this planet, this world called 'Reach' during his time in orbit. What was outrightly discernable was its great importance. This was made obvious by the vast number of installations, cities and bases as well as the many defense platforms and high ship population operating in the planet's atmosphere. This 'Reach' was no minor world as Barutamee's constant reassurances suggested. The truth was too massive for the supreme commander to hide it from them and the fleet's very own act of keeping itself hidden was almost as impossible. The fact that there were shipmasters who still believed Barutamee's words was a sign of how blind they were to his authority, and how perilous the fleet's situation truly was. That they hadn't been detected so far was sign enough that there yet remained some divine providence for them. Significantly outnumbered and outgunned, the Gods had granted them a small speck of mercy by keeping them concealed. Perhaps they were trying to give them a chance to repent, to call for help. But Barutamee ruined that chance.
He spat in their faces and launched a strike force against one of the humans' communication relays. He spat on them again by launching an invasion of the facility close to the large relic. They in turn rewarded him as his deeds deserved, resulting in the death of several zealots and the loss of an entire corvette.
There was no longer any doubting it: the supreme commander had forsaken his reason and the Gods had at last forsaken him. It was only fitting then that the demons were involved in either defeat: punishment for his impertinence.
Moretumee had contacted one whom he sensed was of a similar mind to himself, seeking counsel. Shipmaster Irym Rizanamee of the heavy corvette Holy Dispersion stood on the bridge of his ship just like Moretumee. Their positions at the large central communications systems of their respective vessels made them appear the same size to each other in their holographic forms. There was no need for screens or displays when one could have a more agreeable venue such as this.
Their matching golden armor made them appear as brothers and they spoke with an accompanying familiarity.
"It's concerning, really." Rizanamee admitted. "To think he's allowed us to be put into such a predicament as this speaks volumes. It's as you say, the contingents they have on this world are surely more than a match for our strength. We can be overrun at any moment now because of his overreach."
"It's been one overreach after another." Moretumee said. "He intends to bury us underneath them, sin after sin, heresy after heresy."
"Be careful, brother. Such an accusation carries weight to it, especially for a supreme commander."
"Even if it is true?"
"However true it may be, it would provoke the necessary investigations required of the Ministry of Inquisition. And you know how they love to purge the innocent with the guilty, commanders along with their officers. Any corruption found within a high-ranking office can cause those below them to become guilty, either by virtue of having obeyed their orders or simply becoming heretics by association. We must be careful how we proceed."
"Yes," Moretumee thought. "For our own sakes. Hmph, if heresy were a weight then Barutamee would hardly be able to lift his head from all the blasphemies that hang around his neck."
"Shipmaster?"
"I know, I have to watch what I say." He took a look around the bridge. Beneath the starry vastness of the galaxy that lay beyond the overhead viewing glass, the bridge crew went about their duties. His officers were diligent, checking readouts, compiling reports, communicating with others onboard for updates on appropriate assignments. Everything was operating in the orderly manner in which he had left it. His communications officer was also hard at work at his station built into one of the bridge's several support pillars. He made sure to watch out for him. The officer was the very same one that he ordered to provide him with a heavily encrypted line of communication to the Holy Dispersion. It was the kind of encryption that made it difficult for others to listen in on their conversations, whether humans or... whoever else might have such an interest. There was no need to make the trusting officer think that he was up to anything untoward.
Rizanamee exhaled frustratedly. "This...reminds me all too much of the many heresies that preceded the great undoing of that commander, Niccoramee."
Moretumee knew the name well. There were few shipmasters who didn't. It was infamous, not one to be celebrated or even remembered without some degree of scorn. He lowered his voice. "He was your commander once, wasn't he?"
Rizanamee's gaze momentarily shot to his as though he'd said something insulting. "Yes, he was, sadly."
"And you survived it, the Destruction of Theophanic Revelation."
Rizanamee nodded. "By grace alone am I still here to speak of it. His heresies, his abandonment of allies, his disregard for the Holy Ones, those were his sins." His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "And that fool made us pay for them. We were nearly annihilated. I only survived because I was part of the few that were already far enough away from the carnage. I barely avoided the same fate as so many of my brothers that day." His gaze returned to Moretumee's. "That cannot be allowed to happen again. I will not suffer it. I will kill him myself if need be."
Moretumee held up a hand. "Aren't you the one who told me to watch my tongue?" He gestured to the rest of his bridge crew.
"...My apologies."
"I understand your anger. I also hear your wisdom. It is sound. If we're to avoid the wrath of the inquisition, we must separate ourselves from Barutamee's doings, even if it's only symbolically."
"And how will we accomplish this?"
"I will send a report to the Ministry of Fervent Intercession as well as the Ministry of Resolution informing them of what all has transpired. The location of the planet, the relics we've found, the actions our commander has taken, all of it will be included. I'll also add a request for immediate reinforcements."
Rizanamee's mandibles clicked together thoughtfully. "And how will you be able to do this without, say, that lapdog Utaralee or even Barutamee himself becoming aware of it?"
"My communications officer is proficient in his skillset. He made this conversation possible without the chance of us being overheard. He should also be able to do the same with my report."
"...When will you send it?"
"Soon, most likely just before he makes another major move. I'll need his attention drawn elsewhere before I can chance it."
"'Chance' is a fickle mistress, brother."
"Then let the Gods decide. If we are in the right, they will grant us the favor we need to speed our missive to High Charity. Providence and skill are always unbeatable when working in tandem, that is what I believe."
"Then I will believe it with you." Rizanamee affirmed. "Allow me to add on to your report with the list of the relics my own teams have been able to find during their patrols. It should be sufficient to get our point across as to the scale of the situation here."
Moretumee nodded. "I will give you the time you need. Consider wisely what you add because it may very well come before the eyes of the Prophets."
"May they have mercy on us. Very well brother, until we are deemed worthy to undertake the final journey."
"And walk the path of transcendence."
The transmission ended and Moretumee was left to his considerations. He knew he had an ally now that he could rely on. Making his case to the Holy Ones would be that much easier with the testimony of another.
He strode around the projection area of the long-range communications system and made his way to the end of the encompassing platform. He stopped at the edge to look to the stars above and to the planet beneath.
In his spirit, he was satisfied with himself. The rogue Barutamee was soon to be exposed for his ineptitude and his defiance. As a new shipmaster, he had only heard of the former before now. He knew of the major losses suffered by Valiant Prudence at the battle for the world of Ballast. He knew of its defeat there, of the blood of his kind shed for the failures of one who was not worthy to be called their kindred. But now he had also learned firsthand of his willingness to turn aside from holy instructions.
Barutamee was at his essence a failure of a commander, one who needed to be replaced and urgently if there were to be any ships left following his newest folly. Moretumee would see him tried before the High Council for his insolence, him and all his ilk like Utaralee, if only that it would save the Fleet of Valiant Prudence. If only he could preserve it. Then it could receive a proper leader, one who would direct it in the way that was right, wise and in the end, victorious. Prudence would need a new commander to guide it, and who better to be entrusted with its future than the one who had saved it from its own destruction?
Diffidentia - Mistrust