Part Five -- Interrogated
Sorran
was thrown into a small cell by an entourage of five humans, not
Demons. Perhaps, if Sorran hadn't been so weak, and his shields had
been functioning, he could have overcome them. As he was though, there
was no possible way he could have done so.
As he staggered into
the cell, desperately trying to keep his balance, the Sangheili heard a
heavy steel door shut behind him. Sorran's eyes searched the room, yet
he could find no possible way to escape. He was trapped in the room,
reinforced steel surrounding him.
A motion in an upper corner of
the room caught his eye. It looked like a lens, encased by a white box.
A camera, if Sorran's studies of human technology were anything to go
by. He was being watched.
A table sat in the middle of the room,
with a large chair next to it. Evidently, if the size of the two pieces
of furniture were anything to go by, this room had been catered to
Sorran's needs. On the table sat a plate of human food, and a mug of
what seemed to be tea; a human beverage popular amongst some Sangheili.
They were both, Sorran presumed, for him.
The Sangheili Minor
sat down in the chair, and found it to be relatively comfy. Odd, that
the humans would care about how settled the enemy was. Sorran had been
expecting chains and a dark, dingy dungeon. Strange.
He was,
however, reluctant to touch the food, at first. What if it were laced
with poison? Sorran put that thought out of his mind; if they wanted
him dead, then he would already be lying face down in a ditch. No,
these humans evidently wanted to question him. So without further
pause, Sorran wolfed down the food, attempting to soothe the hunger
which gripped him. The mug of tea soothed him, the warmth spreading
through his shaking body. The camera remained trained upon him the
entirety of the time. There was no doubt in his mind that every move he
made was being scrutinised by human experts.
Time crept by, and Sorran took the opportunity to rest. He refused to fall asleep though, after all, he was in enemy territory.
Hours
later, and Sorran could not tell whether it were morning or night, a
bolt clicked in the steel door confining him, and a human walked in,
flanked by three marines, as they were known. The lead human didn't
seem to be a soldier, he wore no visible fire arm, and was dressed
casually, in a shirt and loose trousers. Not the rigid, militaristic
uniform the others wore. To Sorran's bemusement, the man gave him a
warm smile, yet it didn't quite extend to the eyes. Strange, once
again. It was almost as if the humans were trying to convince him they
were friendly...
Aha, that's what they were trying to do, Sorran
realised suddenly, they were acting friendly so he wouldn't feel
intimidated, and thus, he would release more information, in theory.
Undoubtedly, once they had what they needed, the humans would toss him
in a ditch somewhere.
Then again, perhaps they were trying to
broker a piece of sorts, it would be understandable that they would've
mistaken Sorran to be a high ranking soldier in the Covenant hierarchy.
They would be disappointed to learn the truth.
Regardless, the
human pressed a button, and a stool rose out of the floor, on the other
side of the table. He sat down, and faced Sorran. Sorran tried to keep
his features blank, to keep the fear out of his expression. Then again,
how was a mere human to know what a nervous Sangheili looked like?
"Good morning." The human greeted, confirming the time of day. "My name's Ambassador Errand, how are you?"
Sorran
remained silent, this so called Ambassador of the humans would get
nothing out of him. Sorran huffed, and crossed his arms in defiance. He
noticed that one marine tightened his grip on a side arm.
"Yes...quite."
Errand replied somewhat nervously, his smile faded slightly. " You are
an Elite yes? One of the Covenant officers?"
An Elite? Sorran
had never heard the term used before. The Ambassador evidently was
confused. But, to some degree at least, Sorran was a Covenant officer. He commanded Unggoy, Kig-Yar, Drones, lower class Hunters, and if the situation required it, the Brutes.
"Elite?" Sorran simply phrased, trying to seem disinterested. Errand saw the opening though, and launched into a reply.
"Yes, it's the name we have given to your race. Do you..uh..have another which would be more apt?"
Sorran remained silent, he was not going to divulge any information to these barbarians.
"Elite is good then?" The Ambassador asked, clearly mistaking Sorran's silence as a yes.
"If you wish it so." The Sangheili replied coldly.
"Good,
good. Now, as you are no doubt aware, Elite, you are now a prisoner of
war." Errand stated, as if something like that happened every day.
"I
see. Am I to be executed?" Sorran asked, trying to seem like it didn't
matter. The reality was that he was terrified of dying. Yet he knew
breaking down in front of the humans would not help.
"Executed? No, it would achieve nothing. You are far more valuable to us alive." Errand replied, prompting a nod from Sorran.
"That
is understandable. Now, why have you come here? I am sure it was not to
exchange pleasantries human." Sorran replied, noting the wince the
Ambassador gave when he spoke the word 'human'.
"Why are the Covenant attacking us?" Ambassador Errand asked, his voice thick with emotion. "What did we ever to to you?"
The
question caught Sorran by surprise, and he searched for the answer.
Then he realised, he didn't have one. He fought because he had been
told to, nothing more, nothing less.
"I. . .know not." Sorran replied to the question, feeling foolish and ignorant. One of the marines scoffed.
"He
doesn't know why he's fighting us? Yeah right, and my girl back home's
a super model!" The marine said, and the others found this funny. The
joke was lost upon Sorran though.
"I think he's telling the truth guys." The Ambassador said, and the marines stopped laughing.
"Seriously?
You don't even know why you're attacking? That's pretty sad." A marine
said, and Sorran grew angry -- how dare these infidels question the
glorious Covenant's motives!
"Nay, what is truly sad, human, is
how your pitiful species cannot withstand our might." Sorran replied,
in the heat of the moment. He regretted it afterwards, it wasn't their
fault they were weaker, and less advanced.
"Right, that's it
squid face!" The burliest of the marines shouted at Sorran, ramming his
rifle into the side of Sorran's face. Sorran flinched, yet did not
retaliate. Luckily, the other marines restrained their friend,
although, Sorran noted, they did it reluctantly.
"Let's all calm down here shall we?" Ambassador Errand soothed, looking nervously upon Sorran. He remained still.
"So
you know nothing?" Errand asked anxiously, and swore when Sorran
wouldn't answer, "dammit, we're getting nowhere here. Maybe I should
ask the Spartan to do the questioning."
A thinly veiled threat, yet one which Sorran detected instantly. Fear showed upon his face.
"No,
I will talk, just don't bring the Demon in here. . .please." Sorran
pleaded, disgusted with himself. What kind of a warrior was he, to
break down at the first threat? Not a warrior at all, he reminded
himself, but a scholar in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Would
the Covenant rescue him? Bah, unlikely. Even if they knew where he was,
Sorran doubted they would waste time and resources saving him. It was
more likely they would send an Assassin to silence him, doing so would
be simpler and more efficient than a rescue operation.
Smart
choice freak," one of the marines said smugly. He would not be so smug
were he facing Sorran on an open battlefield, him with a sword in hand.
"Tell us then, what do you know?" the Ambassador whispered. Gone was the smile, replaced by a frown. Sorran felt afraid.
"Human,
until but a week ago, I was a librarian upon High--" Sorran stopped
himself, realising he had nearly revealed the name of the holy city,
"upon a ship in our fleet." he lied "I know little of the Covenant's
plans."
"A librarian? Hard to imagine you stacking books you
monster," the same aggressive marine taunted, and Sorran growled a
warning. The human was beginning to try his patience.
"What is your rank in the Covenant Elite?" Ambassador Errand asked.
"Minor Sangheili." Sorran replied curtly.
"Sangheili? What is that?"
"The name of our species."
"Ah, I see. Who do you command, if anyone?"
"The lower caste of the Covenant; Unggoy, Kig-Yar, Yan'mee, Mglekgolo, Jiralhanae. Not other Sangheili, nor the Prophets."
"Whoa
there, slow down. I didn't understand anything what you just said,
speak English. I'll hold up photos, and you'll identify them for me."
And
so the human held up images for Sorran, which he promptly identified.
He felt like a traitor, selling out these secrets, but what else could
he do?
"So," Errand said, once Sorran had finished, "let me get
this straight. Grunts are called Unggoy, Jackals are called Kig-Yar,
Drones are called Yan'mee, Hunters are called. . . bloody hell, I can't
pronounce it..."
"Mglekgolo." Sorran filled in for him.
"Right, and the Brutes are called Jiralhanae, and your race, the Elites are named Sangheili. Is that right?"
The Sangheili nodded. He felt sick.
"Good, good. We're making progress. This information will be very helpful, thanks. And, one more question, what is a 'Prophet'?"
Sorran perked up. The fools didn't know what a Prophet was, they had no image of one. He decided to play dumb.
"Prophet? What do you mean?" The Minor pretended not to know.
"Don't
play coy with me alien, you don't want to see me angry. Before, you
mentioned a Prophet. What did you mean by that?" The Ambassador
retaliated angrily.
"I know not what you speak of." Sorran replied tartly, hoping the human wouldn't be able to detect he was lying.
Errand
narrowed his eyes, although what that signified amongst the humans was
unknown to Sorran. To the Sangheili, it showed suspicion, perhaps it
meant the same for the humans too.
"You're a liar alien, I can
sense it. You said Prophet, we've got proof on tape. Sergeant Harper,
beat the truth out of our guest would you?" Errand asked of one of the
marines, who grinned wickedly, and walked over the Sorran.
"What's a Prophet eh?" The man asked, and Sorran shook his head.
"What do you mean?" Sorran replied uncertainly, and was rewarded by a punch to the jaw. It hurt, and Sorran tasted blood.
"What's a Prophet?"
"I
don't know." Sorran repeated, and was hit again, this time on the
temple. Before he could collect his thoughts, he was asked the question
again.
"What's a Prophet?"
"I don't --"
Smack!
Sorran was hit once again, and felt himself get pushed out of his
chair. He hit his head on the hard ground, and all turned blurry. A
voice called again, asking the same question. Sorran gave the same
answer, albeit slurred, and was this time kicked in the side. He
doubled over in pain.
Maybe he should just tell them. What could
it hurt? It would give respite from the pain. No! He could not betray
the Covenant; not again! He would remain silent, take the information
to the grave if he had to.
Fear was replaced by anger. He was a
Sangheili, not some common Unggoy! Why was he allowing himself to be
abused like this? The anger surged through his body, filling him with
adrenalin.
"What is, a Prophet?" The human named Harper
emphasised once again, leering down at him, but this time, he received
a kick to the stomach as an answer. Sorran heard the man gasp with
shock and pain, and double over. The Sangheili stood tall, and faced
the rest of the humans angrily. They were staring at him with newly
found fear. They raised their weapons nervously.
"Freeze!" one
shouted, and Sorran's anger faded as quickly as it came. He grew afraid
again, afraid of the weapons aimed at him and the bullets they would
fire out, ending his life. He froze.
"Stand in the corner, and put your hands on your head!"
Sorran complied with the order, and one of the other marines went to go check if the Sergeant was alive.
"He's got a pulse, he'll live, but he's gonna have one bad ass headache when he wakes up."
"Poor Sarge."
Gun barrels remained trained upon Sorran. Ambassador Errand stood.
"Ah,
violence, how I hate it. I think we have enough information for now
men, let us depart. Elite, I will question you once again in the
morning. This time, I think I shall bring the Spartan in with me."
"Yes
sir Colonel Errand." one of the marines spoke, and Sorran stared. The
man had lied; he wasn't an Ambassador at all. Sorran had been duped,
and worse, he had fallen for it.
The humans scooped up Sergeant
Harper and left, slamming the door and leaving Sorran alone in the
room. He gently caressed the side of his jaw. Pain shot through him; it
was probably broken. His side hurt too, where the human had kicked him.
Sorran felt his eyes go moist.
What had he done to deserve this cruellest of punishments?
"This one has forgotten whether it's heatsink is over capacity. It wonders whether the criminal scum considers itself fortunate" ~ Blasto, the only Hanar Spectre.