At long last, the next chapter is finally here. Took much longer than it should have, but that's what getting distracted by other stuff, vacation, and other stuff will do.
On the plus side I think this is the longest chapter I've got so far, and one of the more plot-important ones.
Thank you again to everyone who's read, followed, and reviewed.
Standard copyright disclaimer: I do not own Halo or any associated media, characters, or settings which are properties of 343 or Bungie. This is a work of fanfiction written purely for entertainment and not for monetary gain.
0630, 21 August 2550
Near 'Cartographer' Site, Unknown Forerunner Installation, Iota Horologii System
The air was thin here, and cold. The three Spartans (005, 058, and 117) were barely affected; aside from the protection given by their armor their enhanced physiologies let them use what little oxygen was available more efficiently than a normal human. The rest of the force, both human and kig-yar, had to make do with more temporary measures. The day before, the ODSTs were injected with a drug cocktail that would temporarily enhance the efficiency of their red blood cells and stimulate production of more of them. That would let them stay at peak performance even where the air was as thin as it would be six kilometers up on Earth.
Chac Lon and his kig-yar had a similar drug, one of many he'd brought along samples of when fleeing Covenant space. Thankfully human medical technology was easily advanced enough to replicate it. From what he'd heard, using the compound repeatedly risked some nasty side effects when he got older. But he was using it anyway; getting cancer of the blood or some nerve disorder 20 years from now wasn't as bad as getting shot today because he could barely stand.
The Pelican had dropped them off just below the top of the mountain that housed the 'cartographer', on the other site from the Covenant force. A short hike, and they were over the top and descending toward the Covenant. Two gullies ran down from the peak of the mountain; the UNSC force split themselves between the two. Chac Lon and his fire team hugged the side of one of them. The bottom was filled with loose scree; stepping on that on a mountain as steep as this one was a great way to tear the ligaments in your ankle. Or worse, start a landslide that would wake up the Covenant below.
Ten paces below them, the ODST leading their group raised his fist, signaling the group to halt. Silently, Chac Lon crept forward, crouching behind a peach-colored boulder with him. Whispering, the ODST gestured at the Covenant below. He saw two jiralhanae, three kig-yar minors, and nearly a dozen unggoy.
"Your sniper gets the brutes, we get the jackals and rush them. Sound good?"
Chac Lon gave a crude approximation of a thumbs-up. "Where's rest? Inside."
The human soldier nodded. "Spartans will take point." Fine with Chac Lon; he didn't want to be the first one into a narrow hallway full of Covenant. He motioned Zhal Ven forward; she was replacing Thac Vol as the squad's sniper on this mission (the other T'vaoan was still recovering from her injuries back at camp). As she made her way forward, Chac Lon silently pointed at the jiralhanae below. Silently, she hefted her beam rifle and rested her finger on the trigger, ready to fire.
Chac Lon nudged her. "No, not yet, wait for the humans to be ready." He whispered. Zhal Ven sighed in annoyance, but held off from firing. For half a minute, they waited, praying the Covenant below didn't look up. Finally, the lead ODST tapped his helmet, and nodded, before holding up four fingers. He folded in one, than another, silently counting down.
As he closed his hand, Zhal Ven fired. The jiralhanae captain below never realized he was under attack as the high energy particle beam pierced his skull and vaporized his brain. Startled, his comrade looked frantically for the source of the incoming fire, but was cut down moments later by gunfire from the three Spartans sprinting down the hill. Moving far faster than any normal human, they were almost on top of the Covenant before the aliens started firing back. Meanwhile, the kig-yar and ODSTs above jogged down the hill, firing down the slope into the Covenant below.
One of the unggoy bravely tried to get in one of the Shade turrets, only to be killed by a burst of 7.62mm fire. At that point, most of the unggoy and the one surviving kig-yar broke and fled, scattering into the valley. Or, they tried to. Chac Lon put a burst into the back of one red-armored unggoy; as it fell, he shifted his aim to another one. Before he could pull the trigger, it was dead, hit by five rounds. Not a single one of the Covenant made it to the first line of boulders and low shrubs that could have served as concealment.
Carefully working his way down the mountainside to the entrance of the installation, Chac Lon took in the situation. Two of the ODSTs were taking video of some vehicle the T'vaoan had never seen before. Colored a dark gray instead of the usual Covenant purples and pinks, it hovered just off the ground and was armed with a normal-looking Covenant plasma gun in a turret. The massive spikes on the front of of the vehicle definitely weren't something sangheili artisans would have made, though.
More ominous was the closed door leading into the interior of the cartographer. Set a few dozen meters down a passageway into the mountain, it would have been wide enough for a Warthog to squeeze through if it was unlocked. But it was not. All three Spartans stood near the doorway; two of them standing guard, while the third in dark green armor (who Chac Lon recognized as 117) crouched near the locking mechanism of the doorway.
Seeing that the area was clear of Covenant (aside from the still-warm body of an unggoy a few meters from the doorway), Chac Lon took the opportunity to make small talk with the commander of the ODST contingent, a Captain Ronssen.
"Wouldn't try breaking down that door. What we have here will barely scratch Forerunner alloys."
Ronssen barely acknowledged Chac Lon's presence. "Spartan and his AI are working on it. We hold until he opens it." Left unsaid was that there were almost certainly God knows how many Covenant parked on the other side of the door.
Letting the AI work on the door sounded like a reasonable plan. Chac Lon knew from his experience watching Shaon Tol that it could take hours to crack the security systems on Forerunner installations. And that was for backwater, broken down sites, not an important place like this ring.
"I'll put a couple of my kig-yar on the turrets. Covenant reinforcements will be here sooner than later."
Ronssen nodded. "Do it, put your snipers above us and upvalley. We have to assume they got the alarm out as soon as the first brute dropped."
There was no doubt about that. Luckily, scans from ONI's prowlers hiding overhead showed that the Covenant in this part of the ring were spread out in multiple isolated locations far away from here. It would be some time before any reinforcements arrived; more than enough for the third Pelican to land and drop off the scientific team. Already it was on its way here, skimming low through the mountainous terrain in this part of the ring. Even with the grievous damage the Targhee and Pillar of Autumn had done to the Covenant's fighter wings during their foolhardy boarding attempt, the Seraphs and Banshees they had left were easily capable of dispatching a lone Pelican.
Said Pelican arrived a few minutes latter, appearing over a notch a few kilometers up the valley and swooping in at very low altitude. Coming in to land, it spun and backed in, placing itself between two of the commandeered Shade turrets as the ramp lowered. The pilot of the dropship didn't even bother to land; he just hovered in place as the scientific team disembarked. As soon as the last of them was clear, the Pelican pulled away and was gone from sight in less than a minute.
Shaon Tol was the only kig-yar on the scientific team. She was also the only one that looked like she was ready to be in a combat zone, thought Chac Lon. The T'vaoan was clad in her normal gray armor and carried a submachine gun, while the human scientists from ONI wore only a utility uniform with their personal sidearms. Hopefully they wouldn't put themselves in front of any angry jiralhanae. Or unggoy, even.
The ODST, Ronssen, was the first to talk to the scientists. "Do complexes like this usually have alternate routes of entry? Backup doors, ventilation shafts, anything?"
"Doubtful there's anything we can access." Shaon Tol replied. "My initial research on this ring suggests that there's a gigantic tunnel system inside the bowels of the ring, but I don't know of any access points near here. Even if I did, we'd need entire divisions to map them."
"You'd think ONI's fancy toys could do that from orbit." Ronssen muttered to nobody in particular. "In that case, hold fast until the AI and Sierra-117 get the door open."
So, it was time to wait. Thankfully, it didn't take long; whatever software the Covenant used to lock down the door was no match for the portion of Colter embedded in 117's armor. The lights on the doorway blinked momentarily, but it stayed closed as 117 waved everyone away. "Covenant will have fields on fire on that doorway. Stay out of line of sight."
Chac Lon didn't need any more convincing. He hid himself behind one of the pillars flanking the hallway, and motioned the rest of his squad behind him. Across the hallway, a cluster of ODSTs crouched behind a similar pillar. Another of the Spartans, 005, came forward, carrying a rocket launcher. The Spartan paused and pointed at Chac Lon and the other squads. "Thermobaric munitions. Get to the outside and brace yourselves. We'll tell you when to go in."
The ODSTs and kig-yar didn't respond, just obeyed. As he jogged back toward the opening to the valley outside, Chac Lon saw the other two Spartans standing near 005. Evidently they were very confident their armor would protect them. Years ago, Chac Lon had seen the results after a mercenary group his outfit was contracted with used improvised thermobaric weapons against another pirate gang's hideout. It wasn't pretty, to say the least.
From outside, Chac Lon heard the door opening, then a fraction of a second later, two rockets firing. A brief pause, and then a colossal roaring sound as flames shot out of the entrance to the installation nearly as far as the edge of the landing area. Moments later, there followed a colossal inrush of wind as the outside air rushed into fill the void left by the explosion of the thermobaric warheads. The kig-yar and humans outside were pelted with dust and bits of grass, but thankfully were able to keep themselves anchored to the ground.
"Follow me! Engage anything not showing friendly IFF." One of the Spartans yelled. As Chac Lon rose to standing and began his run toward the door, he saw all three of them, armor covered in soot but apparently unharmed. As they pushed through the doorway, hardly any fire came toward them, just a few bolts of green and red plasma that were easily dodged. When the kig-yar and ODSTs reached the doorway, they saw why. Nearly a dozen kig-yar and unggoy along with a trio of jiralhanae lay dead, their burnt and mangled bodies showing the grisly effects of the thermobaric rockets. Two more jiralhanae and unggoy lay bleeding from bullet wounds; these must have been the ones that survived long enough to shoot back at the Spartans. Amongst the wreckage were a pair of wrecked plasma turrets and no less than three fuel rod guns; clearly the Covenant had in fact been prepared for them to breach the doorway.
As they pushed farther into the facility, they came to another doorway, leading to a pair of forked hallways. The Spartans went to the right, while Chac Lon and his squad of kig-yar went to the left. At the end of a short hallway was yet another door. As it opened, Chac Lon rushed through, before quickly slowing to a halt. Frantically, he signaled his squad to stop as well, as he looked down. Extending maybe twenty meters out from the wall was a short walkway and a platform, extending over a pitch black void.
How far down it went, he had no idea. But there were no railings or barriers guarding the edge of the platform, and Chac Lon did not want one of his kig-yar to be the first to find out. Carefully moving to the edge, he looked down and saw several levels of the cartographer facility extending below him. Including multiple squads of jiralhanae stationed in various places. As Zhal Ven raised her beam rifle, Chac Lon was about to stop her. Shooting one of the jiralhanae now would just alert the Covenant to their presence. Then he saw the chieftain, five or six floors below and standing out in the open. Gesturing for the rest of the kig-yar to get back off the platform, he hissed to Zhal Ven; "Take the shot."
Zhal Ven was not as experienced of a sniper as Thac Vol, but she still managed to hit the jiralhanae chieftain in the side of the head, burning out his shields and scorching his helmet. Stunned, the chieftain stumbled back and pointed at the platform, yelling at his underlings to return fire. A few enemy kig-yar managed to fire some rounds from their carbines in the general direction of Chac Lon and Zhal Ven, forcing the sniper to rush her second shot. It burned into the chest of the jiralhanae, through pure chance hitting his heart and destroying it. The chieftain stumbled back in shock, put a foot over the edge of the ledge, and fell, tumbling into the void below.
Down the other hallway, the Spartans and their supporting ODSTs and kig-yar made their way down a spiral ramp leading further into the cartographer. They made it one level down before running into about two dozen Covenant. One file, led by a particularly canny jiralhanae, was hiding in the shadows and was set up to ambush the first ones down the stairs. It might have worked if another file didn't start shooting as soon as the Spartans came into view. Though they managed to get the shields of two of the supersoldiers down to one-fourth strength, the element of surprise was lost.
Instead of falling back, the UNSC forces pushed forward, aggressively engaging the Covenant. By this point in the war, humanity knew to target the higher ranking species, jiralhanae and sangheili first. The first jiralhanae managed to lightly injure one ODST before 117 caved his head in. The second, the one who had set up the ambush, attacked from the side. One ODST was killed by a burst of red plasma from his weapon, and another horribly burned before the weapon overheated. Continuing his charge toward the UNSC group even as submachine gun and assault rifle rounds peppered his armor, the jiralhanae pulled out his sidearm, a wicked-looking hybrid of a pistol and a shotgun sporting a pair of massive blades.
It opened fire at one of the UNSC kig-yar, spraying it with spikes from barely two meters away. By now the jiralhanae's armor was completely shattered, and it was bleeding from a dozen gunshot wounds. Roaring in pain and anger, it crashed into another kig-yar and nearly decapitated it with a swipe of its weapon. Only then did it collapse as an ODST on his first deployment dumped an entire magazine into its head.
Fortunately, the UNSC were able to clear the rest of the forces on the first level of the cartographer with only a few more moderate injuries. Detaching a squad to bring the injured back up to the surface, the Spartans led the force onward. On their private channel, the noted the continued and unusual absence of the sangheili. Aside from the attempt to board the Targhee, that species had been noticeably absent from the fighting on the ring. Jiralhanae-run operations weren't terribly uncommon, but them leading artifact retrieval missions was virtually unheard of. Was humanity finally depleting the population of sangheili, or was this just a temporary anomaly or some intra-Covenant power struggle? Either way, ONI would definitely be looking into it.
The next level down into the structure had a few straggling Covenant unggoy and kig-yar, but not much else. There were a few indecipherable holographic displays and mechanisms, but nothing seemed to have any effect. Even when the Spartans (with the help of their AI) tried interacting with them. There was also a complete lack of Sentinels in this structure. Had the Covenant destroyed all them when they arrived here, or were they being held back for some reason?
By now Chac Lon and Zhal Ven had caught up with the rest of the UNSC forces. "Where were you?" 117 asked; Chac Lon could hear a bit of annoyance in his voice.
"Taking out a high value target. Chieftain, couple floors below." Chac Lon gestured at Zhal Ven. "She put a hole in its chest and sent him over the edge."
The Spartan looked at the pair of kig-yar for a moment, seemingly evaluating how to respond. "Stay with us. There is still the risk of an ambush by any remnant Covenant forces hiding in this structure."
"You got it, boss." The T'vaoan idly wondered whether 117 was rolling his eyes behind the gold visor. Probably.
The next two floors were similar. Only a few Covenant, and more inscrutable Forerunner displays. There were no more UNSC casualties aside from a few injuries that stung but didn't take anyone out of the fight. At last, they were at what looked to the be the 'bottom' of the cartographer. If there was anything worth defending, it would be here.
Spartan 005 was the first one to test the ramp down to the next level. Within a second of him stepping out of cover, dozens of projectiles flew toward him. The Spartan ducked back; even with his enhanced reflexes a few roughly bolts of plasma came close enough to make his shields visibly flare.
"Four brutes, one with a brute shot, about twenty grunts and jackals. They're in a tight defensive formation around a door at the far end, all alert. Pushing straight through would be inadvisable."
"How far of a drop is it to the next floor. Four, five meters?" 117 asked, gesturing to the edge to their left. "Chac Lon, can your jackals handle a drop that far without injury?"
"Easily." Chac Lon replied. He wanted to ask if the Spartans could. He'd seen normal humans break their legs falling that far, and the armor the Spartans wore had to be heavy. Was the padding that good, or was this more proof the demons weren't normal humans?
117 nodded. "058 and I, along with two squads of jackals, will swing over the edge and hit them from the flank. 005, push down the ramp with the ODSTs and the rest simultaneously."
The pair of Spartans and the kig-yar crept forward along the edge of the floor. To their left was void, the tunnel leading an unknown distance into the heart of the ring. To Chac Lon it looked wide enough to fly a squadron of Banshees through. Hopefully the Covenant wouldn't get any ideas.
Fortunately the floor below extended out just a bit further than the one they were on. The two Spartans moved to the edge, and 117 held up his right hand with four fingers extended. As he started counting down, Chac Lon prepared himself to slide over the lip. The kig-yar would go in half a second after the Spartans; their energy shields and armor could take fire better than the armor the kig-yar were wearing.
As Chac Lon swung himself over the edge, the Spartans were already shooting. One jiralhanae was dead, and another bleeding when Chac Lon landed and started to bring his rifle up. He settled the sights on a kig-yar major, an Ibie-Shan, who was turning to face him. A burst from Chac Lon's battle rifle wounded it and made it stumble, the second killed it. He aimed at one of the jiralhanae next, just as the brute leveled a pair of red plasma rifles at the kig-yar and Spartans. Two bursts into the jiralhanae's chest managed to get its attention, but all six of the rounds deflected off its shields.
Enraged, the jiralhanae squeezed the triggers on its plasma rifles, sweeping them toward Chac Lon as it fired. The T'vaoan put another burst into it and dove out of the way. As he did, Chac Lon barely caught sight of an armored figure vaulting over him at incredible speed. One of the Spartans, Chac Lon couldn't tell which, rammed into the jiralhanae and slammed a powerful uppercut into its chin. The remnants of the jiralhanae's shields managed to keep the blow from being a fatal one, but it still collapsed unconscious, its jaw and teeth shattered. A burst from an onrushing ODST's assault rifle put it down permanently.
Standing up, Chac Lon dumped the rest of his magazine into the back of an unggoy trying to hide behind a pillar. After that, a quick scan showed the room was clear of Covenant. A few more bursts of gunfire from beyond the doorway the Covenant was protecting, and it went quiet. Scanning the battlefield, Chac Lon looked to see if any of the kig-yar who had gone over the ledge with him were missing.
He called out in kig-yar; "Crew, count yourselves! Is anyone missing?"
After a few seconds of chatter, he realized that one was missing; Vak, a Ruuhtian who had been part of Shim Vol's crew. None of the kig-yar had died; all of the bodies on this floor (save one unfortunate ODST) were Covenant. After a few seconds, though, Zhal Ven nudged Chac Lon and pointed to a spot near the edge of the floor. Next to plasma scorch marks were splatters of purplish blood, clearly from a kig-yar. Chac Lon grimaced. Vak's mate was back on Ballast helping to train other defecting kig-yar, and she wouldn't be pleased to hear the news. Hopefully the fall was quick.
The sound of kig-yar cursing from the next room, along with both humans and kig-yar yelling in English, caught his attention. Squawking a few profanities of his own under his breath, Chac Lon jogged through the doorway. Immediately, he saw a Forerunner hologram, geometric shapes glowing blue and yellow. He also saw Shaon Tol violently berating an unfortunate ODST, a private first class from the looks of it. Another human held the unfortunate private back, while a few more humans and another kig-yar looked on with looks of vague disgust and displeasure on their faces.
The reason for the altercation lay in the center of the room, below the hologram. A pile of deflated pink membranes sat lifelessly on the floor, gently oozing blood from several holes. A huragok; one of the Covenant's 'engineers'.
"I've got my head full trying to keep straight which of you turkeys to shoot and which to not, how the fuck was I supposed to know that thing was friendly? If it's an alien, it gets shot! Worked good the last four years!" The private shouted to the growing audience, trying to justify himself.
"Maybe if you didn't have shit sloshing around in your head you would realize how valuable these things are! Huragok know technology better than anyone! I'd have killed half a ship's crew to get my hands on one of them and you just went and poked holes in it without thinking!" Shaon Tol screeched back. "I was joking about the last part." She whispered to Chac Lon in kig-yar, smirking.
"No offense taken." Chac Lon whispered back. Meanwhile, the private was now arguing with his fellow humans.
"Taros, you brainlet, you ever seen one of them? They just hover there and look at computers. Plus I heard ONI gives you the big bucks for bringing one in." Another ODST added. Before PFC Taros could respond, 117 arrived and ended the conversation.
"The sergeant and kig-yar are right. These 'engineers' are high priority assets with intimate knowledge of Covenant and Forerunner technology. In the future, make every effort to capture them alive as long as it does not endanger yourselves or the mission."
Nobody had the stomach to talk back to the Spartan. "Set up a defensive perimeter on this level; we need time to extract data from this system." The Spartan turned toward Shaon Tol. "This terminal is more active than others in this site. Is it possible the 'engineer' already unlocked portions of the data?"
"That would be my assessment." Shaon Tol replied. "You humans have been having better luck interacting with the systems on this ring, I would see if you and your AI can access the data without further digging."
The Spartan nodded back, before tapping his helmet. "Colter, prepare to access the system, and maintain a firewall. I don't want any malicious code getting access to UNSC data."
If the AI responded inside the helmet, Chac Lon didn't hear it. What he did see was the Spartan placing his hand on the terminal, and the display immediately expanding and lighting up. Several dozen locations were highlighted and marked with Forerunner glyphs, with a few in particular singled out. One, in a snowy canyon within a mountain range, caught the eye of everyone in the room.
0900, 22 August 2250
Hanging Gardens, Covenant Holy City of High Charity
Nevo 'Vusokai stared through the scope of his beam rifle at the target. He was not a sniper, but he had trained for many hours in recent months. And at this distance he would not miss. Could not miss. What was at stake was far too important for him to fail.
While many sangheili had privately started to question the war against the humans, 'Vusokai did not share their misguided sympathies. They had defiled countless Forerunner relics, so as the hierarchs decreed, they must be destroyed.
Naturally, 'Vusokai had been horrified when a group of mid-level san'shyuum functionaries approached him some months ago with evidence that a high ranking official in the Covenant was plotting to keep a reserve of humans alive for their own private purposes. What was worse was that it turned out to be one of the hierarchs themselves! That explained why the san'shyuum had not been able to act themselves. The oldest of the san'shyuum 'Vusokai had corresponded with was not even a century old; their evidence of heresy would surely have been dismissed as political fabrications and gotten them exiled or worse.
So, they had to take a more direct approach. And as a pious, skilled commander from a decently prominent sangheili lineage, 'Vusokai was a natural choice to carry out what needed to be done. Thankfully, his contacts had handled the difficult work. From arranging the deal with the repulsive kig-yar arms dealer in the lower districts who got him his beam rifle, to informing him about the forgotten maintenance passageways he had used to access his current vantage point.
Settling the aim point on the target's head, 'Vusokai watched as it floated through the gardens. Half a dozen sangheili honor guards stood nearby, deferentially staying out of the hierarch's line of sight. Nevo 'Vusokai held no illusions about his chances of survival. Even though he had managed to stay unspotted so far, as soon as he took the shot hundreds, no, thousands of security forces would converge on his position. The chance of him surviving was slim, at best.
Even if his act ultimately was justified, the penalty for killing a hierarch would be painful and final. Would 'Vusokai submit himself to justice, or get himself killed fighting back? In the back of his mind, he did not know. Ultimately it would be up to the san'shyuum he had worked with to ensure that the rest of the Covenant knew the truth.
Obviously, 'Vusokai had no knowledge that the san'shyuum he had been working with were paid off by the Prophet of Truth, as was the kig-yar he had bought the beam rifle from. Nor that all of them were now dead, murdered by Truth's jiralhanae enforcers and disposed of in the waste recycling systems of the unggoy districts below. He certainly did not know that a jiralhanae kill team stood not even a hundred meters away, waiting for him to take the shot.
'Vusokai looked through the scope of his beam rifle one last time, verifying the identity of his target. Yes, it was the Prophet of Regret, the secret heretic he had been warned about. Remembering all that he had practiced the last few months, the sangheili exhaled, waited for his body to calm, and fired.
The beam speared through the side of Regret's head, easily penetrating through the skull, brain, and out the other side. The hierarch slumped to the side, dead before he even fell out of his hover chair. As the honor guards began to panic, searching for the source of the shot, 'Vusokai picked up his beam rifle and headed for a forgotten ventilation shaft. He would discard the rifle later, and vanish into the chaos that would definitely follow the assassination of a hierarch. If the honor guards were incompetent enough to allow an assassin to kill a hierarch, maybe there was still a chance of him escaping.
Sprinting down a corridor, Nevo 'Vosukai only saw the jiralhanae captain a fraction of a second before its fist connected with his shoulder. Wearing armor meant more for stealth than combat, the blow easily penetrated his shields and sent the sangheili staggering. A second fist dropped him to the floor. Before a pair of superheated metal spikes sent him to the floor, 'Vusokai's last thought was to wonder how the jiralhanae had found him so quickly.
0900, 23 August 2550
Covenant Ket-Pattern Battlecruiser Celestial Spire, Iota Horologii System, near Unknown Forerunner Installation
"Fleetmaster, the situation on the Sacred Ring is delicate." The Prophet of Temperance sat within the bridge of his command vessel, a look of concern etched upon his face.
"At last, our noble Covenant has divined the secrets of the ring. They have determined that the control station of the Sacred Ring, from where the Great Journey may begin, lies somewhere within these mountains." The Prophet highlighted a forbidding range of snow covered peaks, divided by yawning chasms.
"See how the cold and wind have scoured the rocks clear of life. Surely, this is one final test by the Forerunners to prove our worthiness. There are none that I could trust more than you for such a task, Fleetmaster 'Vadamee. You and your warriors shall find the control station of this ring and prepare it for its consecration."
Fleetmaster Thel 'Vadamee knelt reverently before the Prophet. "By your will, holy one, it shall be done."
"I must warn you, the vermin draw closer." Temperance spoke, disgust evident in his voice. "Somehow, they were able to defeat our forces guarding a relic showing the layout of the ring. You must move with haste; ensure that you arrive before they do!"
As 'Vadamee left, the Prophet of Temperance exhaled. That had been much easier than he expected, and there was still no indication 'Vadamee knew anything was amiss. Trusting that Truth had Regret eliminated on the timetable he promised, the window was now open to get rid of 'Vadamee and the rest of the sangheili in their fleet. He entered a few commands on the holographic console in front of him. It was time for Tartarus to be summoned and fulfill his purpose.
The jiralhanae chieftain arrived a few minutes later; he entered the bridge and knelt with appropriate humility. Basking for a moment in the jiralhanae's submission, the Prophet of Temperance ordered him to stand. "Rise, Tartarus. I bring good news. The sangheili, 'Vadamee, has been dispatched to the surface of the Sacred Ring on my orders. You will make sure he never arrives there."
Tartarus grinned. He had been waiting for the opportunity to eliminate the sangheili commander ever since the Covenant fleet had arrived at the Ring. "As you wish, holy one, it shall be done. Although -" Tartarus gestured in the generally direction of the battlecruiser Serene Light, "-what of their vessel?"
"Do not concern yourself." Temperance replied. "We outnumber them four to one. It will be taken care of. You just need to make sure he doesn't get to the surface of the Ring."
The jiralhanae smiled. He had never been an expert at commanding fleets in combat; ground combat was more his forte. A gravity hammer would do nothing against a Ket pattern battlecruiser, but on the ground it would destroy even the mightiest sangheili general.
"As you say, holy one. My commanders shall contact you forthwith." The shipmasters of the other battlecruisers in the formation (aside from the Serene Light) were jiralhanae handpicked by Tartarus for their loyalty and skills at ship handling. With the Prophets' assent, of course. Although, even the best of them were raw compared to most sangheili shipmasters. A sad truth of the complete dominance of the sangheili over the Covenant military until very recently. Openly training jiralhanae to run fleets of their own would have looked very suspicious indeed. The war with the humans provided a bare enough cover of legitimacy to last until Truth enacted his plan and made any sangheili dissent moot.
Even so, a four to one advantage would be more than enough to destroy the Serene Light. One or two of his ships might die in the process, but that was a sacrifice the Prophet of Temperance was willing to make. As long as he survived, along with Tartarus. Not that Temperance had any particular affection for the jiralhanae, but he knew Truth did. And angering him would not be wise.
Covenant Ket-Pattern Battlecruiser Serene Light, Iota Horologii System, near Unknown Forerunner Installation
Shipmaster Inra 'Utoremee noted the departure of the Phantom carrying Serene Light's san'shyuum representative with some unease. The Prophet had been called back for 'urgent and important consultations' aboard the Celestial Spire. Unusual on its own, but happening at the same time as Fleetmaster 'Vadamee was deployed to the surface of the Ring on very short notice? 'Utoremee was not so blind and deaf as to miss the growing tension between the sangheili and jiralhanae; tension that permeated even this very fleet.
"Our vessel's shields are at full power, are they not?" 'Utoremee asked one of the officers sitting near him, a sangheili whose name he struggled to remember at the moment.
"They are, shipmaster. The huragok Fleetmaster 'Vadamee brought on board have performed well." the officer responded.
'Utoremee allowed himself a small smile. Indeed, were it not for the huragok, the ship would have been in a poor state; 'Utoremee had seen for himself how barely functional the ship was when he was suddenly drafted as 'Vadamee's backup. Broken shield generators, methane leaks, malfunctioning gravity lifts, the list of defects was near endless. Thankfully five times the normal content of huragok and a multitude of dubiously sourced parts allowed the most severe problems to be fixed during the slipspace transit to the Ring. There were still many small issues plaguing the Serene Light, which made it painful that the Prophet of Temperance had seen fit to deplete his ship's content of huragok to investigate the ring.
This would have been less galling if the foolish jiralhanae had not managed to lose so many of them! Even before the humans arrived, no less than five huragok had been slain as the jiralhanae forced them (often at gunpoint) to try to enter sealed facilities. Madness! Then one had died when the damnable humans shot down the Phantom bringing it to the Ring, and only two days ago another one vanished after the jiralhanae shepherding it allowed his force to be ambushed by a force of the demons!
As the Phantom carrying the Serene Light's san'shyuum and its escorts approached the Celestial Spire, the sensors caught the signature of 'Vadamee departing for the surface of the Ring. His trio of Phantoms would have a much longer trip than the one leaving the Serene Light. Where 'Vadamee was bound for, 'Utoremee did not know.
For several more minutes, there was silence. Inra 'Utoremee noted with detachment that 'Vadamee's Phantoms were entering the upper atmosphere of the Ring. A few Phantoms followed from the other ships, presumably escorts or reinforcements for the fleetmaster. 'Utoremeee was more focused on the other ships of the fleet. They were shifting, moving closer to the Serene Light, but there had been no communication from any of them. Not from the Prophet of Temperance, not from any of the other vessels.
A short time later, 'Utoremee got his answer. "Shipmaster, I read increasing levels of energy from the other vessels in our fleet! The are charging their weapons!" One of the sangheili on the bridge yelled, alarmed.
"Is there any sign of the human vessels?" The shipmaster searched for an explanation. Had the humans finally decided to attack them, outnumbered as they were? Had more of them arrived in the system without him noticing?
"No, shipmaster, they remain stationary, out of weapons range." A quick look by 'Utoremee at his console confirmed this to be the truth; the human cruisers were still were they were before, furtively peeking around the edge of the gas giant the Sacred Ring circled.
"And no communication from the rest of the ships in our fleet?"
"No, shipmaster, they remain silent."
'Utoremee sighed softly. It looked like his and 'Vadamee's worst fears were had been confirmed. Three of the other battlecruisers charged toward the serene light, accelerating at maximum power. The shipmaster noted they were making no effort to hold even a rudimentary formation. The fourth, the Celestial Spire, accelerated more slowly. Coward, thought 'Utoremee. Clearly Temperance was not willing to risk his own skin in this betrayal.
"Shipmaster, the Triumphant Declaration is launching torpedoes!" 'Utoremee smiled. The aggressive captain aboard the other battlecruiser had launched well outside optimal weapons range. If the other vessels were helmed by officers so foolish, it would still be improbable that the Serene Light would survive. But his sangheili would claim more than their share of blood.
"Set course two degrees right of Absolving Flame, one degree down, maximum normal acceleration." The Serene Light turned to the right, moving away from the oncoming plasma torpedoes and toward the other pair of battlecruisers. "All non-essential personnel to the escape pods. They shall continue their fight on the surface of the Ring." The second order got a few looks of shock, though all on the bridge knew not to openly challenge 'Utoremee. Preemptively abandoning ship before combat was unorthodox by sangheili standards, to say the least. But 'Utoremee suspected that many of the other sangheili knew in their minds what he felt; their own death was nearly certain, and there would be no purpose to wasting the lives of warriors who could still fight on the ground.
The first pods started launch seconds after the ship-wide announcement. As more and more of the ship's crew headed for the ring, the Serene Light continued to accelerate, heading for the Absolving Flame and Truth and Reconciliation. Both of the pair of enemy battlecruisers had just launched their own plasma torpedoes; more than two dozen of the deadly projectiles were now streaking toward the Serene Light. There was no way the vessel's shields could survive such a barrage.
Inra 'Utoremee had no intention of letting all those torpedoes hit. Ordering the helm to increase engine power to more than five-fourths the normal thrust, 'Utoremee set the Serene Light on a course that would take within meters of the Absolving Flame just as the torpedoes from the Triumphant Declaration impacted. As aggressive as the other vessels were being, it was doubtful they were too concerned about keeping their plasma torpedoes away from friendly ships. 'Utoremee would use the course of his vessel to draw the enemy plasma torpedoes toward the Absolving Flame; each on that hit that vessel would be one less that impacted his own. That, in combination with the Serene Light's own plasma torpedoes, would be enough to destroy the hostile vessel.
After that, the plan was simple; fire everything he had at the Truth and Reconciliation, and ram her before his ship died. 'Utoremee was not so optimistic as to think he could escape all the plasma torpedoes unscathed. Odds were the Serene Light would be barely more than a pile of slag after the plasma torpedoes impacted. But killing one of your enemies and crippling another when outnumbered four to one was certainly not a dishonorable way of dying.
Now they were within range of the ships' smaller weapons; hundreds of bolts of plasma flew across the void and splashed against the shields of the Serene Light and her enemies, gradually wearing them down. 'Utoromee ordered the helm to put the ship into a gentle corkscrew, to spoil the Absolving Flame's aim and keep them out of the firing arc of its plasma lance. He had not even entertained the thought of using his own; at close range there would be no way he could keep it on target without putting his ship on a slow and predictable course and being torn apart in seconds. As it was the power it would use was better put to use shoving as much energy into the shield generators as absolutely possible.
The Serene Light launched its own torpedoes against the Absolving Flame at practically point blank range. Only seconds later, that ship's own torpedoes hit. An emergency maneuver by the Serene Light's helmsman at the last moment caused three of them to miss, at the cost of melting a third of the battlecruiser's thrusters. Five hit; the battlecruiser's shields mostly depleted, but survived. The sangheili-crewed battlecruiser pushed onward toward its target, accelerating more even as components of the engines began to fail The artisans who designed the vessel ages ago had never meant for it to be pushed this hard.
All eight of the Serene Light's torpedoes impacted the front of the Absolving Flame's shields, its captain not even making a token efforts to dodge the projectiles. The shields flared, then went out. Plasma washed over the vessel as the last two plasma torpedoes spent their almost unmitigated fury on the ship's armor. Nanolaminate plating bubbled and vaporized, but the Absolving Flame's structure held. The ship was wounded, but still alive. Then the rest of the torpedoes arrived.
'Utoremee's gambit worked. Four of the Triumphant Declaration's torpedoes, mindlessly guided toward the Serene Light, impacted their wounded compatriot. There was no way the vessel could survive such a blow. The ship stayed mostly in one piece, but was reduced to a semi-molten pile of slag and scrap. But the Serene Light was also suffering. Despite the ship's wild maneuvering, three of the four remaining torpedoes hit the ship. These were followed seconds later by all but one of the torpedoes from the Truth and Reconciliation.
For the last time, the Serene Light's shields flared brightly and vanished. As it made its final turn toward the Truth and Reconciliation, the ship was coming apart. Entire decks, thankfully almost empty, were filled with superheated plasma as massive pieces of the ship broke free. Secondary explosions tore through the Serene Light, as the engines and weapons went silent.
Carried by its momentum, the flaming wreck of the Serene Light continued in the direct of the Truth and Reconciliation. Another massive explosion, and the ship split in two, breaking apart roughly at the "neck". At that point 'Utoremee and the rest of the bridge crew were already dead. Under a barrage of fragments, the Truth and Reconciliation's shields, already weakened by weapons fire from the Serene Light, began to falter. When the fragmented remains of the Serene Light's nose section hit, they failed.
A final series of massive explosions destroyed what little cohesion the Serene Light's remains had. Caught in the edges of the fireball and pelted with fragments, the now-unshielded Truth and Reconciliation did not fare well. When the fireball dissipated, the Truth and Reconciliation was in one piece and under control. But its armor was scorched and holed, most of the weapons were offline, and more than one fourth of the crew were dead.
Just an hour before, the Covenant in the Iota Horologii system had five intact battlecruisers. Now they had only two that could fight.