Prologue
13th Age of Rejoice
Habitat Deroo
Toralee Sonaee trooped her way around her kitchen and over to her closet. She was a female Sangheili that owned a restaurant in a small town of purple buildings. Her pots, pans and utensils were stacked away crudely in drawers and cabinets. A central island was plopped in the center of the silver-white room. Granite walls reminded her of the age bestowed on this place. She had long tendrils of scaly “hair” out of the back of her head, grown long into her old robe. Toralee had gray-blue skin, a marker of her massive age and wisdom. A shimmering window of plasma looked over her dining area, no devoid of all but the most small life.
She opened the closet of purple metal. Inside, a legend was stowed. A long scroll, called a battle poem, lay horizontal on a rack. Below it, a variety of armors clung to plasma gurneys. Toralee’s pink and red robed hand fell over a small battle suit; only big enough to accommodate a seven-foot six creature. It was a gray metal, with long curves, and writings of which bestowed great power upon the wearer. An orange, double-pronged spear, along with an energy rifle, lay beside it. It was the last of it’s kind, like her; it was the armor, of the Arbiter.
Chapter I
11th Age of Restoration
New High Charity (under construction)
Toralee Sona shoved her way past a group of preaching Grunts and a Jackal mercenary. The lower district of High Charity had stone streets, all of which were crowded with grunts, jackals and those in school.
Toralee was in a hurry, and for a good reason, too. Most Elites were either taught by uncles/aunts, or went to crowded schoolhouses. However, Toralee was learning to be a Librarian, a job that required a steep amount of patience and grueling work hours. The Librarians filed all the written works of any possible kind, and often assisted Deacons during sermons. Today was graduation, and if she missed it, her life would almost literally end. She carried a book bag, a black one, that matched her skin and robes. The black signified her as a student, compared to the turquoise and white dresses that all full Librarians wore.
She stumbled past a group of shops, around a corner, and into a large “town square” type of marketplace. A large black building loomed off to her left. A local food shoppe `, accompanied by a drug store, and a fruit vendor was at her right. She sprinted over to the black cathedral, and into a huge crowd of students. All waited, like her, in black gowns and robes.
Ahead, even more Elites were being garbed in the turquoise robes by the highest scholars of all. The Gu’kar wore red robing with green linings and were renowned by even the Unggoy deacons. Of course, before the 7th (seven reference! Owned!) Rebellion, that wouldn’t count for much. That war had proven that even the lowly grunts could and should be respected. Over sixteen planets had been glassed and nearly the whole Covenant fleet destroyed. Hundreds of soldiers of all races had been put to the slaughter. The Grunt Rebellion had also been the first war to introduce torture. POWs were tortured, the torturers got info, and the victims were executed.
However, none of that, at the moment, mattered. Toralee was late, and she needed to find a spot.
Another name was called. And another, and another. Then finally, Toralee found herself approaching the steps, hanging on the edge of sanity with a nervous breakdown approaching. Silently, solemnly, she held her hands out and accepted her robes. She left the building, skipping her friends and the after party. She ran all the way back to her homely hut. It held her three sisters and two brothers, who were both in the military, battling the URF, or United Rebel Front, composed of grunts, humans and elites. They used old technology, like colony and harvesting ships.
She opened the door, and found a horrific sight. All her sisters, a brother on leave, and the kaidon of the Sona lay dead in pools of steaming blood. An assassin leapt past her, handing her his plasma rifle. She stood there, crying, as she looked at the bloodstained kitchen. Smoldering marks upon the wooden, old fashioned table splintered the thing apart, piece by piece. The battle poem she had woven for her brothers was torn apart and smoking. Apparently, the family had tried to fight, as there were noticeable weapons and carbine charges around the floor. However, a large hole in the other wall, the one which faced the apartment across the street, exemplified the use of heavy weapons and grenades, A couch and “molder” chair were shot across the room.
*********
Toralee felt the energy bands around her wrists tighten as she tried to shake free. She was being dragged across the floor of the Council chamber, to meet her trial. Nothing was she garbed in; the mark of disgrace was clearly visible on her chest.
The Unggoy on one side of the chamber folded their arms and stared at her. The Sangheili, on the other hand spat in disgust. Ahead, the Councilors crossed their legs and looked a her, as if curious, from their hover chairs.
A Sangheili in the middle of those five was the first to speak.
“Toralee Sona,” Rtas’ Vadum began, “you have been convicted of the murder of your kaidon and family, plus the destruction of the battle poem given to your brothers. Do you deny this claim?”
“I do, as the assassin responsible fled the building, making me-” Toralee was cut off with lightning speed as the High Kaidon’s shout resonated through the room.
“Silence! YOU were the assassin! You held a rifle, one with a low charge, in dictating that you had used it recently. So, do you have evidence to deny this claim?”
“I deny it. If I did kill my family, why do it the DAY I graduated? And why would I kill my brothers and sisters?”
“Because,” an Unggoy Councilor said, “You wished only to kill the kaidon, yet your siblings attacked, forcing you to kill them.”
“But I have no reason t-”
“No, you do have a reason. You wanted to have the powers of kaidon, so you killed him. However, you were caught in the act, and shall be put to the death at once!” The clamor beforehand suddenly stopped in its tracks.
A lone councilor, another Elite, stood, and said, as if to himself, “I have a better idea,”
“But Thel, she has committed here-” Rtas’ turned to other.
“Haven’t we all?” The Elite looked around the room. “Dismissed,” he waved the crowds in the stands away.
“Fine,” Rtas’ spat in disgust, “You will be called into the chambers in three cycles. But you have three, only three, and will be put under max guard.”
With that, they departed.
11th Age of Restoration
80th cycle, 0850 units
Habitat Deroo, Militia Command Center
Morkaree Zelee sat in his office, his head resting on his fist. His dark blue elbow pushed slightly on the anti-gravity generator that held his desk aloft. On it, scattered files made of tooka tree bark sat gathering dust.
A wooden bookcase lay on the left side of the small, rectangular office. A rug woven with musk rat fur stooped beneath the Major’s feet. His black robing fell neatly over his backwards knees. The Elite’s armor sat glistening crimson on an energy rack. His Beam Rifle leaned against the tattered walls of the command “tent”. Not really a tent, but rather, a light object that could be transported. In dumb terms, a flying fortress.
Black walls of Forerunner materiel’ outlined the place. His bunk was a half-pipe shape, to accommodate the large back muscles of the Sangheili. His chair floated a quarter meter off the ground, and Morkaree spun around, admiring the view through the window behind him.
The militia camp was positioned on a grassy mesa, overlooking a small town on Deroo. Next to the command tent, an armory lay, and on the left sat a mess hall. A barracks was somewhere near the edge of the cliff. Next to his room in the Mobile Command Center, the office of his assistant was. Behind the case, a secret door led there. He reclined back in the floating chair, and thought how lucky he was. A simple, boring outpost where he could serve his time in the army, and get all the benefits! How wondrous life was!
Every one and a half points (out of 50 in an average Age), he would gain a platoon of raw recruits. He would train them, wait a week for the next batch, and then send them off to the front lines, battering away at the Brutes. He hoped this war would end soon: as barbaric as they were, the Brutes could prove valuable allies in the upcoming future. However, they were already torn and shredded after the Great Schism. There fleet, at the moment, was small, around 50 ships. But, they had thousands of shipyards across the few territories they had, creating fighters, frigates and even farming mechanisms. Thankfully, without the Prophet’s Divine Failure, they were no longer religious zealots. They simply wanted, and needed, land.
Morkaree could understand their cause: families to feed, governments to create; one planet with good soil or abundant minerals could prove very valuable to something as simple as Brutes or Humans. The thought of humans brought the “alliance” idea back into his thoughts. A long time ago, humans and Sangheili had worked together to stop the overzealous Covenant. Now, they hardly bothered with each other. A few, and very few, interspecies planets existed. Only they harbored the history of the two races.
In fact, two of those planets were Earth and Sanghelios. They had agreed to do such a feat upon each other’s respective home planets to remind them of lives lost. It obviously worked.
Morkaree’s great-great grandfather had fought during the schism. He had been present on the Ark, and fought alongside the Arbiter and the Spartan. All of them were long dead, except, of course, the Arbiter. He was alive and well, although quite old (two whole ages!). He looked down at a file on his desk. He hadn’t noticed it before. It said upon it:
Military of the Covenant
Application form
80_850/11
Toralee Sonaee
Down, down the application went, and he noted that the trooper had been sent here...odd. Just as he set it down, as if on cue, a Sangheili woman opened the door, and walked in.
“What are you doing here? This is a military base!” Morkaree could not believe his eyes.
The stunning girl-only in her early twenties-said, “I am Toralee Sonaee. I am the new Arbiter.”
There was no way that she was telling the truth. But everything seemed to mold together. Suddenly, his assistant squeezed the door.
“Uh, I’m guessing you heard about the recruit?” He said shyly.
Morkaree’s jaw slacked, an expression of awe upon most Sangheili.
“Y-you...” His voice seemed to fall off the top of the cliff.
“Yes, yes I know,” She smiled. “You are here to teach me.”
He breathed in deeply, and exhaled. He stood up, and walked over to his armor. His feet pounded deep against the rug, which muffled each great step. He plastered on his black jello-like combat skin, and slid each piece of armor into it’s rightful place. Morkaree grabbed his blue rifle.
“Do you have your armor?” He questioned?
“Yes. I do indeed.” Toralee cocked her head, questioningly.
“Put it on, and follow me,”
He shoved past his assistant, and left the room.
******************************
Firing Range
Deroo Training grounds
Five hours later
Toralee tried to steady her glowing rifle, and once she had it lined up with the blue shield, she blasted it. Almost instantly, the shield vaporized. A few more shots took it down once it regenerated.
“Good, good. Now, follow me on a run.” Her mentor said...what was his name again? Ah, yes, Morkaree. She did her best to keep up, but Toralee did not have the stamina of a trained soldier. The path led them into the near-black forest. The canopy of lush green trees almost completely blocked out the two dwarf stars above the planet. Rats tore the place apart, scampering from small predators. Large birds with purple wings were feasting on the carcass of a catlike critter. They scattered as the troopers ran past. Toralee saw a dark blue bush shift about, a few leaves and berries dropping to the dirt floor. It was a few meters ahead, but she still slowed down a bit. However, Morkaree ran on past.
Suddenly, a large animal with long, stiff tusks smashed into him. It was very bony in the back. It almost resembled one of the large bulls from the Human’s home planet of Earth, except for that it was completely black and hairless.
Toralee ripped out her weapon, and tried to take aim at the beast wrestling with her tutor. She managed to singed off some off the skin on its back, and reeled off in pain. She shot a flurry of pure energy at the thing, and it was smoldering within some time. Once again, the carnivorous scavenger birds were back, along with a few of the rats.
“Thank you, my student. You have wonderful aim.” Morkaree clamped his mandibles together and raised them, resembling a smile.
“Do not mention it. It would have had us both for lunch had it not have dropped when it did.” she replied, matter-of-factly.
“Wise, you are.” He looked at her.
“Well, I was studying to become a Librarian...”
“Truly? The Council really has gone dark in these days.”
“Indeed. Now, I think we shall head back, lest we encounter more of those things?” Toralee questioned.
“Yes, we should. And that we shall.”
Tank > Banshee