Well, here is the end of Section I. What that basically means is that the next Section will begin some years later. Sort of like when you read a long book and it splits it up into different 'books'. Like the bible. Anyway, enjoy.

Part Fifteen - Truth

Sorran was roused from his fitful slumber as he heard a crash in the lower chambers. And this wasn't the 'I knocked a plate to the floor whilst preparing a meal' kind of crash. This was the clear smash of glass.

The newly made Honour Guard rose from his floating bed; which was the most comfortable thing he had ever slept upon. Indeed, everything in the Minister of Restraint's quarters was lavish and expensive.

Sorran thought back to the day's events as he shook his tiredness away, and gently lowered the ceremonial headpiece the Honour Guard wore onto his suddenly sweating crown. There had been no trouble in escaping the dungeons of High Charity. As Sorran had passed his flash-clone, he had felt a slight shudder. But he was safe, and in Restraint's quarters, as one of his two Honour Guard.

That a Minister, especially one who used to be one of the Hierarchy, would have but two Honour Guards was incredibly strange. When Sorran had questioned the elderly Prophet about it over dinner, Restraint had ambiguously said that he trusted few, and that's why he still lived.

The other Honour Guard, a rather elderly Sangheili by the name of Hem, had been with Restraint since the beginning. His family and Restraint's had long worked together, and the new generation had been no different. He had his own quarters in the High Charity upper district, and had retired there for the night, warning Sorran as he had left to 'be careful.'

Was this what Hem had meant when he said that? Sorran thought as he grabbed his Energy Stave from the wall. The Stave responded to his will, and sparked, bathing the dim room he slept in in a soft blue glow.

Sorran had had so many questions for Restraint, but the Minister had merely smiled a crooked smile and had shaken his head, saying that Sorran would learn with time. Once Restraint was 100% sure of his motives. In other words, once Sorran was trusted by the Minister he served.

There were further noises down below, and a sinking feeling rose in Sorran's gut. It could have been Jajab, the serving Unggoy, but Sorran doubted it. The small Unggoy, Restraint had informed Sorran, never awoke once he retired for the night. Indeed, it was a daily ritual for the Minister to have to rouse Jajab from his own slumber each dawn.

Sorran secured the shoulder pads he wore, and pressed down on a panel by his door. The mechanical door fled into the frame it was set in, and the new Honour Guard walked out into the candle lit hallway.

Sorran gave thought to waking Restraint, but decided against it. If some burglar was in the house, then better it would be if the elderly Prophet remained asleep.

Another bang below. Whoever it was obviously wasn't well versed in the art of stealth. Either that or the intruder wanted someone to come looking for him. Well, Sorran would be happy to oblige.

The Honour Guard stepped into the gravity lift, and slowly fell down two stories, to the ground level. He looked around; no obvious signs of trouble. However, upon close examination of the door, he saw where metal had obviously been cut, and welded back together once whoever was intruding was inside. Interesting, whoever it was obviously knew the trade.

Sorran moved into the dining chamber, looking around the dim room. No one in sight, bar the Huragok Floats lower than most., who assisted Restraint with his hobby of examining Forerunner artefacts the Ministry had deemed useless.

Just as he was about to leave though, Sorran saw something out of place. A stack of documents which had previously been in a neat pile were now askew, spread all over the table. One looked to have half the page missing. Sorran moved forward, and lifted up the light parchment. The ink was faded, and blotched in some places. The page seemed to be a series of notes and thoughts. The bottom ones seemed menial enough. However, half of the middle one was visible, where the page had been nearly torn. Still, it was nearly unreadable, bar a few fragments, such as what seemed to be 'Regret', 'Journey', 'False Writ.' How odd.

As Sorran was still trying to make out the other words, he heard a rustle behind him. Ever so slight, as if a feather had been brushed amongst a pile of leaves, making the smallest of small sounds. Almost small enough to disregard. However, Sorran was suspicious enough to spin around suddenly...

...A good decision, as it became apparent when Sorran's moving stave crashed into a small, blue object. The Energy Stave's shields flickered slightly. Sorran's eyes widened as he saw what he had struck.

A small plasma knife, a burning blue cutting through the sanguine night. The knife bounced of Sorran's stave, and the Honour Guard quickly jumped back, out of reach of any further attacks. He looked closely at the assailant.

It seemed to be a Kig-Yar, garbed in tight robes the colour of the darkest of dark nights. The avian like creature had it's head covered by a hood, shrouding all but it's sharp beak in shadow. It screeched in it's native language. Sorran recognised it as a Kig-Yar curse word from their pirating days.

For a few moments, the Sangheili Honour Guard and Kig-Yar Assassin circled each other wearily. A slight shimmering across the face of the Assassin informed Sorran that the Kig-Yar did indeed possess personal shielding. Sorran hadn't even known such technology existed.

He wasn't allowed much respite however, for at that moment the Jackal brought out from it's person a crystalline pink whip, which hung limply at it's side. The seven shards which made up the whip crackled with power.

It was all Sorran could do to dive out of the way before the whip flew in his direction. As it was, he got lucky, and instead the foremost shard of the whip embedded itself in an ancient bookcase. After a second, the shard exploded, shattering the bookcase and it's containments into a million shards.

As the shards flew through the air, Sorran vaulted over the table, and delivered a strong blow with his stave to the startled Kig-Yar, who reeled backwards, before somehow managing to land on it's feet nimbly. It suddenly lashed out with the whip, and Sorran narrowly avoided the deadly string of shards, throwing himself to the floor. He brought his stave around in a low arc, knocking the Assassin's feet from underneath it. The Jackal collapsed to the ground with a thud, it's whip falling limply to the side.

Before the creature could right itself, Sorran pounced on it, grabbing the Assassin around the neck. He lifted the frail Jackal into the air with a thick, vice like grip on it's small windpipe. With his other hand, Sorran threw back the Kig-Yar's hood, and staring at him were a pair of frantic, buggy eyes. The Assassin attempted desperately to break free of Sorran's grip, managing to bury one of it's throwing knives into the Honour Guard's side. Sorran persisted though, and kept a tight hold. The Jackal's face began to lose it's colour, eyeballs wide, mouth trying to draw air in which didn't have the chance to travel down to it's lungs.

After a few more seconds, the Assassin went limp. A quick read of it's pulse told Sorran that he had perhaps gone a little too far. The Kig-Yar was dead. With disgust, he let the corpse fall to the floor.

Sorran stood there, breathing deeply. He remained alert; for all he knew there could be several other Jackals in the house. After it became apparent that if there were any, then they had fled, the Honour Guard began to search the Jackal's corpse. He eventually found a scrap of parchment. Complex runes decorated the header. Sorran decoded them and saw what the parchment was: a hit list. And listed below, in ink the colour of Jackal blood, was a single name. Restraint.

It was then that Sorran heard a noise behind him, and he spun, anticipating another brawl. Instead, he only saw the Minister of Restraint, wearing a satisfied grimace. Sorran noted with surprise that the Minister was supported by only a wooden cane, rather than the chair the Honour Guard had been led to believe was needed.

"You have done well Sorran." Restraint croaked, nudging the Assassin gently with the edge of a boot. The Jackal rolled over, it's lifeless eyes staring into the ceiling above. Sorran frowned.

"Well done? Was this your idea of a test?" the Sangheili asked, and he could hear the anger in his own voice. The Prophet reeled around, scowling.

"Don't be a fool!" Restraint barked, and then, noting Sorran's sheepish expression, softened slightly, "this was no test."

"Then what--?" Sorran began to question, stepping forward. He was cut off by Restraint.

"This was an Assassin, and no inefficient one at that. This Kig-Yar bears the symbol of the Shadow of Relic. Have you heard of them, Sorran?"

Indeed he had, or at least he had heard the rumours. Effectively an Assassins cult, one of the most efficient and deadly there was. They took members of every species, although the Kig-Yar were the most predominant; they had a history of espionage and murder. Sorran merely nodded before asking his next question.

"Why was one of the Relic attempting to kill you, noble one?" Sorran questioned of the Prophet, who sighed.

"Dispose of this body, and meet me in the lounge. I shall reveal to you the truth. You won't like it, you won't believe it. But it is the truth." Restraint told him, and the Sangheili Honour Guard nodded slowly, frowning in confusion. Still, he had an order, and so hefted up the dead Assassin, and prepared to burn the body.

******************

"You are, I take it, familiar with the history of the Writ?" Restraint asked Sorran as the two sat before the roaring fire. The stench of blood from both Sorran and the felled Jackal, which now lay on the burning flames, was strong.

"Of course. The Prophets discovered evidence of the Great Journey, and proposed an alliance between them and we, the Sangheili, in an effort to uncover this Journey." Sorran recited from memory, confused as to why the Minister would ask such a question. Restraint merely nodded gravely, drumming his tapered fingertips together.

"And thus the Covenant was born, out of this promise of the Great Journey." the Prophet spat mockingly. Sorran leaned forward, concerned.

"What is your point?" the Sangheili questioned bluntly, forgetting about the honorific suffix he usually would have used. Restraint instead decided to answer his question with a question.

"How much do you believe in the promise of the Path, Honour Guard of mine?"

This threw Sorran off. He wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. However, in the short time he had known Restraint, the Minister had never rebuked him for expressing his opinion.

"I am no zealot, noble one, yet I, like all of the Covenant, believe in the Journey. How could I not?" Sorran replied, apprehension clear in his voice. Restraint merely sighed, shaking his head sadly.

"I was afraid you would say that. It will make what I'm about to tell you even harder. Sorran; there is no Great Journey. It's all a lie." the Minister revealed, and Sorran could sense no trace of jest in the Prophet's voice. Even so, he broke out into a smile.

"How very amusing noble one." Sorran said, an air of certainty about him. There was no doubt in his mind that the Prophet was lying. This didn't seem to be the response Restraint expected, for his face screwed up in annoyance.

"This is no joke Sangheili, although I wish with all my heart that it was. All you have ever known, every history lesson, religious ceremony, everything. All of it a grand deception." the Minister snapped back, and Sorran blinked, realising the Prophet truly believed himself to be speaking the truth. The Sangheili was now worried; had the Jackal slipped some sort of Hallucinogen into the rich wine Restraint was now drinking?

"Noble Minister, this night has been distressing for us all I think. Come, let us clear our minds of these heretical thoughts, and retire to our quarters." Sorran suggested, beginning to stand. An icy command from Restraint forced him to sit once again.

"I told you you would not believe me, at first. But I offer no lies here. Perhaps if I explain fully, from the beginning, you will understand."

Sorran was still worried about the Minister, and had half a mind to disobey Restraint's command and go fetch a healer to purge the poison that was so obviously flowing through the Prophet's veins as he spoke. However, there was just enough sincerity in Restraint's tones to keep him seated. He nodded for the Minister to continue.

"Now you know doubt know that years ago, I was a High Hierarch, alongside the Prophet of Tolerance, and Prophetess of Obligation. Both of them are now dead. Now, Regret, Mercy, and the snake Truth have replaced as Hierarchs. No doubt you hold them in the highest opinion, brainwashed as you are. However, I shall tell you how they came to power."
Now Sorran was truly intrigued. He had heard of Tolerance and Obligation's demise a few years ago, both apparently victims of a serial killer. Restraint then moved on with his tale.

"I am on a list of those San 'Shyuum who are forbidden to partake in the reproduction process, as you may or may not know. There are so few of my race that such precautionary measures have to be taken, in order to keep our legacy pure of mind and body. However; I am ashamed to admit, I did not adhere to this law. I bed a female when I was Hierarch, and she fell pregnant with my offspring."

This was something Sorran hadn't heard before.

"I should have had the foetus terminated as soon as I knew. But I couldn't. It was my child, my legacy. And no matter how flawed it would be, I would cherish it."

A noble sentiment indeed.

"The birth date loomed ever closer, and I began to grow worried. Should word have leaked out that I sired a child, then no matter what position I held, I would be executed within the week. Nervous, I approached whom I thought to be a trustworthy friend; the Vice Minister of Tranquillity. You will know him better as Regret. I told him about the ill begotten child, and implored him to claim it as his own. He told me he would consider it."

Restraint's gaze then grew dark.

"Little did I know the poisonous snake would do what he decided to do. He went to the Minister of Fortitude, whom you know better as Truth, and informed him of my situation. Together, they hatched a plan together. Tranquillity began to drop subtle hints of what the two were planning, drunken braggart that he always was."

"And then the demand came. Tranquillity delivered an ultimatum; either I, and my fellow Hierarchs step down, or he would reveal my darkest secret. I spent many a day conferring with Tolerance and Obligation. Good friends, we were, all of us, and they understood the danger I was in. And so, together, we stepped down from the seat of power. I watched as the bastards Fortitude, Tranquillity, and the Philologist, now Mercy, ascended up the arms of the Dreadnought."

Some of this was common knowledge. It troubled Sorran, however, that the three leaders he had but a week ago revered and honoured were dishonourable cads.

"But that, whilst horrible in itself, is not all. One night, in a drunken stupor, Regret appeared at my doorstep. He had the look of someone ready to boast about him. I tried to turn him away, but he commanded me to grant him access to my house. Indeed, he was sat in the very same chair you sit in now, Sorran."

"And what he told me that night shook me. Apparently, he, Truth, and Mercy, had spoken with the Oracle, within the Dreadnought."

Sorran couldn't help but gasp. Never in living memory had the Oracle spoke, not since the Writ had been formed originally.

"And the Oracle told them the truth. You have, no doubt wondered why our Covenant is so obsessed with destroying the humans? It is all because Truth is afraid. You see, Sorran, the humans are not infidels. They are our Gods. They are the Forerunner, those who were left behind."

This was too much for the Sangheili to take. The wine glass he held tumbled to the ground, smashing into an infinite amount of shards. Restraint hardly took note, carrying on with his tale.

"And yet still, my tale is not finished. After their ascendancy, the three new Hierarchs visited to Oracle once again, reconnected it, although had Huragok ready to disconnect it should the Oracle prove troublesome as it had last time. And this time, the Oracle told them the horrifying truth: there is not Great Journey. The Sacred Rings the Covenant has revered for aeons are not divine propellers to the heavens, they are weapons. If activated, Halo will rush through the stars indeed, as the Writ says, but is shall not place us on the Path. It will kill us every Sentient being in the galaxy. All this came from Regret's own foolish mouth, and I have since gathered evidence supporting his claims."

There was a silence as Sorran digested this information. He then slowly shook his head, softly at first, then more aggressively.

"No, it's not true. You lie!" the Sangheili accused, pointing a disrespectful finger at the solemn Minister, who shook his head.

"What possible reason could I have to lie Sorran? I speak only the truth. It hurts, I know, I myself sat curled in a foetal position for hours after Regret had left my abode. But rest assured, I--" Restraint was then broken off as Sorran, in his blind rage, hefted his stave, and held it mere centimetres from the Minister's feeble heart.

"Enough with your heresy! I should report you to the Ministry for this!" Sorran threatened, and Restraint showed no fear, merely hanging his head.

"I have proof, if you would see it." the Minister said softly, and for some reason Sorran shook his head. Perhaps, deep down, he knew it to be true. But he didn't want to admit it, didn't want to admit his entire life, and upbringing, had been a lie. Still, when Restraint offered him documents, he took them.

As he read, he became less and less certain. All of these words, damning evidence. Suddenly, every non-nonsensical thing he had ever questioned made perfect sense. This was no lie, it all fit too perfectly for that. And that's when it hit Sorran; Restraint was telling the truth.

With a sob, Sorran let to documents fall to the ground in a heap, with him tumbling after them. He kneeled there for what seemed hours, weeping. He then felt a soft hand on his back, and looked up to see Restraint, wearing a sympathetic expression.

"It is hard, isn't it? But you shall get through, even as I did. But three outside the Hierarchs know this truth, I, Hem, and now you." the Minister said, and Sorran frowned through his tears.

"We must tell everyone of this." the Sangheili muttered, before Restraint snapped back at him.

"Don't be a fool. Do you believe the Hierarchs to be oblivious to my knowledge? The very next day, Regret came around again, threatening to kill me should I ever reveal it. The three Hierarchs have long since tried to get me kicked off the High Council, but have been overruled by the Council in every attempt they make. Truth has been sending assassins around ever since, and whilst Hem has been able to fend them off long enough, he is growing old. You must now take up his mantle."

Sorran still believed they should inform the rest of the Covenant.

"I will tell the masses, you will not be implicate--" Sorran began, and Restrain cut in once again.
"Do you honestly think that they would believe you, a mere Honour Guard? Truth, Regret and Mercy would merely deny your allegations, and then would have you, and most likely I, being your master, killed for high heresy. The Covenant is too brainwashed to accept such a revelation. We must merely keep the secret alive, so when the time comes, they can be told." the Minister said wisely, and Sorran finally understood Restraint's reasons.

"I understand, Minister. May I retire for the night? I have much to ponder upon." Sorran asked, still weeping. Restraint softened, nodding.

"Of course. Worry not Sorran, I have survived long enough with this truth. Indeed, it opens up a larger world, when you truly think about it. You shall not have to worry about another assassin for a while. Truth dares not hire more than one every two weeks, for fear of arousing too much suspicion. Good night Sorran. You are indeed a True Sangheili, to accept this with so much dignity." the Minister told Sorran. Sorran grunted.

"Dignity? I feel ready to collapse onto the ground in a writhing mass..." the Honour Guard muttered as he stepped into the gravity lift. Restraint did not hear him.

My whole life has been a lie. Every single moment of it. However, every moment from now on shall be as true as can be.

END SECTION I

---

"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.

And the mighty wolver does it again!  Excellent chapter.  So the truth, finally, is starting to unroll.  Can't wait for next section!

---

The Eayn Tribute: Read about the life of a jackal, who fights back during a rebellion against the covenant, and must struggle to remain alive as the Covenant fight the small group of rebels.

http://www.halowars.com/forums/thread/804296.aspx

It should come soon. And only one reply? Really?

---

"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.

crap! i need to catch up on this!

i'm multiple parts behind, so i'll try and read up today.....

---

New story out! Halo: Below the Brine
(it's the best story you're not reading!)

great stuff, Wolver!

there were a little spelling and grammar mistakes, but i'm sure you'll edit them out. it's always hard to cramp a lot of information in when you finishing up a big part. Section 1 is done and it was awesome.

and apart from the whole "humans are Forerunners" argument, which could go on forever, i think in this context of the story it absolutely fits within the context.

bravo!! i wish more would read and comment.

---

New story out! Halo: Below the Brine
(it's the best story you're not reading!)

Wheres the next chapter? you havent wrote in forever.  dont give it up!

---

The Eayn Tribute: Read about the life of a jackal, who fights back during a rebellion against the covenant, and must struggle to remain alive as the Covenant fight the small group of rebels.

http://www.halowars.com/forums/thread/804296.aspx

belac:Wheres the next chapter? you havent wrote in forever.  dont give it up!

I only read the Prologue so far but I'll probably be up to date by tomorrow afternoon! So write more!

---

Aloysius:
-Less than half a of percent of players have the General rank on Xbox Live.

How is the General rank fair again?

Halo Fanboys. The next most annoying thing next to Jonas Brothers fanboys.

belac:Wheres the next chapter? you havent wrote in forever.  dont give it up!

 I've had computer trouble, but I got a new one today...still getting used to it though. Be patient.

---

"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.

Wolverfrog49:

belac:Wheres the next chapter? you havent wrote in forever.  dont give it up!

 I've had computer trouble, but I got a new one today...still getting used to it though. Be patient.

kay. Thanks Wolf.

---

Tank > Banshee

Wolverfrog49:

belac:Wheres the next chapter? you havent wrote in forever.  dont give it up!

 I've had computer trouble, but I got a new one today...still getting used to it though. Be patient.

kay. Thanks Wolf.

---

Tank > Banshee

SECTION II

Part Sixteen - Life goes on

"Cover my back Ahkrin,"

"Cover it with what O' revered Ultra?"

Zharn scowled; even now, with he being a Ultra, Ahkrin still couldn't resist the urge to throw in jibes at him in every possible circumstance.

"Your eyes Ahkrin, watch out for human snipers," Zharn impressed upon the other Sangheili, who smiled.

"Is that an order sir?"

Why does he always have to be like this? He knows I hate it when he thinks of me as his commander.

"Take it as you will, just do it."

Indeed Zharn would need his friend's uncanny level of sight, the rocks in the valley were so numerous that hundreds of humans could be concealed with their snipers, and Zharn would be none the wiser. Ahkrin tended to notice the little things though, such as a leaf not pointing in the same direction as others in its cluster.

The pair scurried from rock to rock, always alert. Active camouflage would do no good here, thermal sights on the human sniper scopes would detect them instantly. Far better for he and Ahkrin to use body cooling technology which masked them from such thermal scopes.

When they were a quarter of a way through the valley, Ahkrin suddenly tackled Zharn to the ground, behind a rather large boulder. Zharn stared at his friend in anger.

"By the Journey Ahkrin, what are you--?" the Ultra was cut off as a sniper bullet then flew over them, leaving a streak in the air as it flew by. Zharn blinked.

"Ah. Thank you. Now what?"

Ahkrin merely signalled for Zharn to stay pressed against the rock, and to stay motionless.

"The sniper won't have had a proper glimpse of us, in all probability he saw a shadow flicker through his scope and shot nervously. Wait here for a few minutes, we will be safe," the Stealth Sangheili instructed Zharn, who laughed sharply.

"That's what you said when we were boarding that human ship," he reminded Ahkrin, who scowled.

"I had no idea that fusion reactor would blow, I'm no Huragok. Besides, the Phantom arrived before we ran out of air, and so why do you still talk about that incident?" Sangheili with bloodlines as strong as Ahkrin's could often be very highly strung, especially when their abilities were question. Zharn, not wanting an argument now of all times, with a sniper looking out for them, decided to let the memory drop.

"Do you think the human has disregarded us?" Zharn asked half a minute later, breaking the awkward silence. Ahkrin shook his head firmly.

"Nay, the barbarian dogs can be persevering creatures. Give it a little while longer."

Zharn nodded, before sighing.

"It's been three weeks since Sorran's body was found dead in his cell. And I know what you will say, but I can't forget about it. If I'd been in the city with you, with him when he'd been about to slay the Brute, maybe I could have changed things," the Ultra said sadly, shaking his head. Ahkrin nodded.

"Perhaps, but I find it better not to dwell on what might have been."

Zharn smiled crookedly, and then suddenly frowned.

"You say a lance of Jackals saw the crime. I'm surprised you did not...deal with them before they reported the incident, it would be nothing new to one of dubious moralities such as you."

Ahkrin then chuckled, shoulders rising and falling as he did so.

"I tried to do just that Zharn, and managed to 'deal with', as you say, all but one. A cunning figure he was, and I suspect he was deliberately hiding from me. ***. Perhaps I should have arranged for the Prophet who reported to the Ministry Sorran's crime to die in suspicious yet inconclusive circumstances, before he could report of course," the Stealth Sangheili mused. Zharn laughed at what he thought to be a joke, before noticing Ahkrin's regretful expression. The Ultra stared incredulously at his friend.

"You're serious are you not?" Zharn questioned Ahkrin, who nodded humbly.

"It could have been done. A human poison -- human so suspicion falls upon them -- laced within the Prophet's evening tea. I would have then killed the *** Jackal, and that would have been that. Ah, if only time were not so linear," the Stealth Sangheili explained. Zharn scoffed.

"Sorran got condemned to death for slaying a Brute. I can't even begin to imagine the horrors that would be inflicted on you for going through with such murders." Ahkrin smiled wryly as Zharn said that.

"Indeed, but you forget something: Sorran is--was not a trained assassin. I am. If I so wished it, I could have made all the evidence for the theoretical killings point towards a Brute in the camp, or you Zharn."

Zharn rose his eyebrows at that, muttering a sharp retort, but he knew Ahkrin did not boast without reason; his friend really was that efficient.

"Perhaps. Is it safe?"

Ahkrin held up a hand, slowly popping his head over the rock. A few seconds later, he ducked back down and nodded.

"The human sniper is busy foolishly clogging his lungs with smoke. The path is clear, let us move."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Look at those fools below. Ignorant, accepting, following a blind prophet...How I envy them, Sorran thought to himself as he stared down at those below. A wave of emotion swept over him, and he pushed himself away from the window ledge, looking into the mirror. The Sangheili staring back at him from the shining surface was certainly he, and yet at the same time the reflection was a complete and total stranger.

Who am I, to be entrusted with such a dark secret? The fact I am the son of a now deceased Deacon Master makes it all the more ironic.

Sorran stared at the fine robes that now covered his lean body. Restraint was certainly no frugal spender when it came to outfitting his guards. Sorran had been provided with an entire new wardrobe by the Minister, as well as weapons far more powerful than anything he had used in the Covenant military. His armour was ancient, harking back to near pre-Covenant times, possessing a kind of reverence about it.

I'm an Honour Guard. Me. One who was, not too long ago, a person of little significance. A scholar of small worth.

It was nearly too much to take in, and Sorran felt a familiar uncomfortable feeling build within his head. These migraines had become all too common in the past few weeks.

The door behind him suddenly sounded as a person entered. Sorran turned to see Hem, Restraint's second personal Honour Guard. The Minister had scores of guards in his chain of command, but only Sorran and Hem knew of the Covenant's dark secret.

"Another headache?" the Elder Honour Guard questioned sympathetically. Sorran nodded slowly, before groaning as another spasm of pain crashed over him.

"Indeed. And nightmares too. Horrible, chilling shades haunt my dreams."

"I'll have an Unggoy bring you a medicinal draught. Aside from that, how are you faring?"

Sorran shook his head, shrugging his shoulders.

"As well as could be expected. I miss my old life--not being a Scholar, but strangely enough, I lament the loss of no longer being in the military alongside Zharn and Ahkrin," he sighed softly. Hem nodded gravely.

"Such is the curse of being a dead man; no one can know you still live Sorran."

"And yet I still keep my name?"

There was a pause.

"Whilst not completely commonplace, your name is not rare enough that being hailed Sorran shall draw suspicion to you."

Then I am not an entirely complete stranger; I still keep my name, and the sanctuary of my thoughts.

"That is one thing to be grateful for. Is there a reason you've come, noble Elder, other than to soothe my mind?" Sorran questioned the older Sangheili, who folded his arms.

"Quite. Restraint has requested that you ready yourself, he, I and you are to journey to the Great Library come noon."

Panic gripped Sorran's heart in a vice-like grip, and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. He stared at Hem incredulously.

"Surely you jest; do you not know where I used to work? Someone shall recognise me!" Sorran protested in terror. Hem chuckled, shaking his head.

"Which is why you shall wear this."

The Elder Honour Guard tossed something in Sorran's direction, which the younger Sangheili deftly caught. He brought the object before his eyes, and saw a round, spherical helmet; a scarlet red with golden t-blam!-s.

"Pretty," Sorran appraised, placing the helm on his head. The Sangheili looked into the mirror, only to see an emotionless mask stare back at him. The helmet completely masked who he was; the mouth guard even covered his mandibles.

"And efficient. When speaking, try to change your voice a little. Put on an accent akin to those some on the colonies wear. If all goes well, you could stand speaking to your own father and he wouldn't recognise you!" Hem remarked, and Sorran's gaze from within his helm grew cold.

"My father is dead, as is all my family."

The older Sangheili's expression grew apologetic and sombre.

"My condolences and apologies young one, I did not know," Hem told Sorran, who shrugged.

"It matters not. That was a different life, belonging to a now dead Sangheili. I must move on, if I am to stay sane."

Hem stared at Sorran with a look of impressed respect, before turning towards the doorway.

"I shall leave you to prepare in peace. Restraint expects us in the lower quarters within the hour. Anything else you wish to speak to me about?"

Sorran sighed, gathering his new shoulder pads, affixing them slowly to his slight arms.

"Not particularly. I can't help but wonder about Zharn and Ahkrin; they have a tendency to get themselves into trouble. Don't misunderstand me; they are formidable warriors, each in their own right -- but sometimes they can get in over there heads when they don't have a wise mouth to lend them consul," he poured out to Hem, his tone wistful. The Elder Sangheili nodded slowly, with a reassuring smile on his face.

"You worry too much young one. I'm sure your friends are perfectly okay, no doubt returning victorious from another battle."

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"What do you see Ahkrin?"

There was silence from the Stealth Sangheili for a few moments.

"Trouble. Of the demonic variety," Ahkrin reported solemnly, prompting a stare from Zharn.

"Pass me the binoculars, I wish to see for myself."

Wordlessly and ashen faced, Ahkrin passed Zharn the small device. The Ultra crawled between a gap in a large rock, and brought the goggles to his eyes, surveying the outside of the warehouse in the distance.

He then saw it. The flash of an orange visor standing tall amongst the otherwise blue visors of the ODSTs. Breathlessly, Zharn ducked back behind the rock, facing Ahkrin with a grimace.

"A Demon is here?" he questioned unnecessarily. Ahkrin smiled darkly.

"Not a Demon, the Demon. The very same you supposedly killed back at the human base a while ago," the Stealth Sangheili corrected with a sigh. Zharn frowned doubtfully.

"Impossible Ahkrin, not even one of the Sharquoi could have survived such a grave fall as the one the Spartan experienced. How do reach this unlikely conclusion?" the Ultra demanded. Ahkrin rolled his eyes, as if he were annoyed that he had to explain himself. Arrogance incarnate.

"The number on the Demon's chestplate matches that which was displayed across the helmet you took as a trophy. The Demon you fought and the figure by the warehouse are one and the same."

"You remember the number?"

"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't. So, glorious leader, how do you propose we steal back that which is rightfully ours under the watchful gaze of the Demon?"

Zharn let out a deep breath he hadn't enough known to be holding. The human infidels on Eridanus II had somehow managed to get their heretical hands on a Covenant technology cache en route from High Charity to the 7th fleet. The technology was well encrypted, but everyone knew that the humans could be deviously intuitive at times. They would eventually find a way to reverse engineer the technology, which could give them significant advantages, such as energy shielding, and perhaps even blue prints for plasma weapons.

That couldn't be allowed to happen.

"I am unsure. I bested the Spartan once, but that was down to luck, and the fact he was already weakened. Perhaps we should listen in to their conversations, perhaps it would give us an idea of what we face."

Ahkrin nodded, bringing out sound sensitive equipment. When activated, it would allow the two Sangheili to hear everything the humans by the warehouse said to each other. If they so wished, they could hear a spider on the other side of the valley spinning its web.

After a few moments, the equipment was activated. Zharn patched his suit in to its frequency so he could hear.

"...we're too exposed out here," one of the human marines, a private, grumbled, kicking the ground. Another taller, smug looking character dressed in officer's clothing gave the private a stare that could have burnt through a Hunter's shield.

"Are you questioning my tactical decisions private?"

Instantly, the private cringed -- he evidently hadn't thought anyone but his friend would hear him.

"No Colonel Errand sir..." the private trailed off, after giving a pathetic excuse for a salute. The human Colonel named Errand sneered in contempt, before turning to face the Demon.

"038, how far away is the heavy lifting VTOL?" the Colonel muttered, speaking quietly. The other marines wouldn't be able to hear him, but Zharn and Ahkrin could.

"About an hour Colonel Ackerson," the Spartan replied curtly. Zharn frowned in confusion. Ackerson? Just a moment ago, another marine had called him Errand.

How odd. Perhaps it is a human thing.

Zharn turned to Ahkrin, expression bleak.

"We have less than an hour to secure the cache and call in the Reaver."

Ahkrin scowled.

"I know that! Why can't we just bring in reinforcements?" The Stealth Sangheili sounded stressed, and Zharn could tell he was thinking hard.

"No possible way. Humans have AA turrets all around this area of the planet -- only a Stealth Reaver is fast and quiet enough to make it through -- they are hardly troop transports."

"Then we are alone."

"For now? Yes."

Ahkrin poked his head above the rock once again, scanning the surroundings. A short while later, he faced Zharn again, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Worry not. I have a plan."

---

"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.

Finally more True Sangheilli to read :D

---

Whenever a thread was hijacked and there were big quote boxes and lots of flame, I was there!

Rank:Master Hijacker

GT: I DFang I

http://averagejoesgames.com

DFang:Finally more True Sangheilli to read :D

Yep!

:)

My Elites are not those evil demon like things we saw in the Reach trailer -- that upset me.

They r teh happy, smartz leets.

---

"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.

Wolverfrog49:

DFang:Finally more True Sangheilli to read :D

Yep!

:)

My Elites are not those evil demon like things we saw in the Reach trailer -- that upset me.

They r teh happy, smartz leets.

Good very good. However when Reach beta comes out. New ideas will spring towards my mind and possible machinimas to be made

---

Design a Faction

http://www.halowars.com/forums/thread/795978.aspx

Part 17 - Things never go according to plan

Scribes and scholars observed Sorran and Hem with awe as the two grandly dressed Honour Guard strode through the tight corridors which littered the study district of High Charity. Sorran felt nervous, jumping at every shadow, glaring at every person who glanced their way. And all the while, he was expected to keep his stave in sync with Hem's, so the two formed a barrier in front of Restraint.

Sorran's head rose up and down as he constantly checked the rooftops. They seemed to be an awful security risk; any fool who was a dab hand with a rifle could pick the Minister off. Or could they? Sorran had no idea just how powerful Restraint's personal energy shields were.

Hem didn't seem to be worried, and if he was, the old Sangheili certainly didn't show it outright. He walked tall and confident, his being giving off a sense of power. Even Hunters assigned to guard posts moved out of his way anxiously.

Sorran, on the other hand, evidently radiated an air of uncertainty. Fellow Sangheili leered at him suspiciously, Unggoy glared at him bitterly, Jackals stared at him between narrow eyes.
As he was staring at a rooftop in paranoia, he suddenly felt himself smash into something solid and fall to the ground. Dazed, he looked up to see a Hunter surveying him in anger.

"Be mindful of where you walk!" The Hunter's voice rumbled like the crashing of a thousand lightning storms, sending fear straight down Sorran's spine. A crowd had gathered around Sorran and the Hunter, no doubt wanting to see the blind Honour Guard stomped upon by the raging behemoth towering over him. Sorran swallowed nervously.

"Sorry," he muttered, trying to scramble to his feet. The Hunter stared incredulously at his bond brother behind him, before turning back to the frightened Sangheili.

"So you should be!"

The Hunter hefted Sorran up with a lone hand, ramming him painfully into the wall of the book keeper's, causing the metal to dint.

Sorran managed to break out of his panicking stupor, and glared at the Hunter, who had the clear look of murder about him. Without waiting to find out if the Hunter would grow angrier, Sorran reached down to his belt with a clear hand and drew out his energy sword, driving it into the left leg of the huge beast. Lekgolo worms tumbled to the ground as they died, burned to death by the searing hot plasma. The Hunter cried out in pain, dropping Sorran to the ground. The Hunter removed the sword from its leg with a yowl, before leering down at Sorran. It swung its heavy shield in the Honour Guard's direction, raging. Sorran ducked the blow, which instead took a sizeable chunk out of the building it struck. The Sangheili hefted his dropped stave from the ground, igniting its charge. He aimed it at the Hunter's exposed torso, and--

"Part fools!" a familiar voice cried out over the turmoil of the small fight. A moment later, Hem came into few, his own energy sword drawn. He stared at Sorran, stave raised; and the Hunter, Assault Cannon glowing a dangerous green as it warmed up. Understanding the situation, Hem grabbed the startled Hunter by the folds in its armour, somehow driving the huge juggernaut against the opposite wall menacingly. The Hunter's bond brother stood, uncertain, as was the crowd looking on.

"Do you realise who you brawl with worm?" Hem demanded of the Hunter, and there was a sharp intake of breath from the crowd. 'Worm' was one of the worst insults one could attribute to the Mglekgolo.

"We--" the Hunter began to justify, voice uncertain.

"That was a rhetorical question! Speak not, and know your place. I and my friend whom you scrap with are regal Honour Guards of the noble Minister of Restraint," Hem informed the Hunter, the Lekgolo eels which formed it each growing paler. The crowd had grown wide-eyed; Restraint was not a name to be bandied about lightly. Whilst he may not be Hierarch anymore, he still commanded a lot of influence with the Council.

"We did not know--" Hunters always referred to themselves as 'we', never 'I'.

"Quite evidently. Only a fool would pick a fight with Restraint's Guard. I should have you thrown to imprisoned Jackals; they could make good use of the meat," Hem threatened. Sorran clambered to his feet, staring darkly at the Hunter. And at the same time he was astounded. Long ago, had such a fight occurred, he would have been torn to shreds by the Hunter, who would receive no punishment. Being an Honour Guard of one so respected has its advantages.
"What has transpired here?" the voice was Restraint's. All faces turned to survey the Prophet as he moved through the parting ensemble. Hem growled one last time at the Hunter, before tearing his gaze away.

"Noble master, this...leech has deemed it appropriate to attack Honour Guard Sorran," Hem explained to the Minister, who regarded the Hunter and his bond brother (who seemed to be trying to distance himself from his mate) through narrowed eyes.

"Really now? And was this attack provoked?" Restraint demanded. The circle of onlookers around them instantly began to shake their heads in Sorran's favour. Sorran hesitated.

"I may have bumped into the Hunter by accident. But it overreacted," he said, not wanting to Hunter to be killed just for offending him. Restraint turned to the Hunter.

"Is this true?"

There was silence for a few moments, in which the Hunter shifted on its feet nervously.

"Perhaps." Restraint's eyebrows rose at the behemoth's ambiguous reply, "We mean; yes, noble one. We apologise."

The Minister sighed, before frowning.

"We have wasted much time here. Hunter, your life shall be spared. You and your bond brother will, however, report to your superior for reassignment of the negative kind. Do you understand my wishes?" Restraint instructed the Hunter and his paired mate. Sorran thought it a little unfair that the other Hunter was to be punished for his bond brother's crime. Then again, the two were telepathically linked, both being formed by eels of the same colony, so it made sense.

"Yes, noble Minster," the two Hunters replied in unison, marching off glumly. Restraint smiled, satisfied. Hem still seemed angry about the incident.

"Don't you have better affairs to attend to?" he demanded of the awed crowd, who instantly scurried away, busying themselves. Restraint glided over to Sorran.

"Are you hurt?" the Minister questioned. Sorran shrugged.

"A little bruised, but I think the Hunter ended up worse off."

Hem walked up to the Minister, seeming upset with the Prophet.

"Tell me old friend, why did you allow that worm to leave with his life? You should have thrown him in a vat of hot oil for his insolence. Attacking an Honour Guard! How dare he even have the--"

"Hem, you're rambling," Restraint told his friend with a laugh, holding up a hand. Sorran smiled wryly.

"I heard the trait of senility came with age," he joked, which received the young Honour Guard a shove from the older.

"Killing one who has offended you is a very low thing to do. I am no Prophet of Truth," Restraint explained. The mood between the group of three turned darker at Truth's mention.

"I suppose you are right," Hem grumbled, sounding very much like the old Sangheili he was, "but that doesn't mean I like it."

"And you don't have to. Such is the blessing of free will. Now come, we must hurry if we are to reach the Great Library before all the pesky scholars awaken. No offence intended Sorran," the Minister added the last part in response to Sorran's wordless protest.

"Oh, and Sorran? Try not to pick another fight with someone twice the height of you."

* * * * * * * * * *

"I am in position Ahkrin. Are you?"

Ahkrin hesitated for a few moments, wondering one last time if his hastily thrown together plan was a sound one. Then he cleared his head of doubtful thoughts.

"Of course," he told Zharn over the channel with false bravado. The Ultra scoffed, before terminating the link.

Ahkrin looked down at the humans below, by the warehouse. The Demon was still there -- his weapon was holstered, but Ahkrin knew that the Spartan would be able to kill him in a hundred different ways without the assistance of fire arms.

Then the signal came. A single human shot was fired in the air, followed by a surge of plasma fire. The sounds came from the distance, back down in the valley where the snipers had sat positioned. Immediately the human shoulders were alert, bringing out their primitive weapons, squinting hard down the valley. Colonel Errand frowned.

"We've got Covenant. 038, take ten of my men and head down to find out what the hell is going on with Sierra Bravo 1."

The Demon nodded, signalling for a group of marines to follow him. The group trudged off into the distance, into the mist.

The human Colonel below scowled, and shouted something unintelligible at a group of ODSTs, followed by a command. The troopers moved around the corner of the warehouse, leaving Errand on his lonesome. Errand stared at the skies nervously.

He should have kept his eyes on the ground.

Ahkrin disengaged his stealth camouflage in front of the Colonel, punching him in the face. Armour met skin, and the Sangheili felt several bones smash under his fist. The Colonel went reeling back, holding his bloodied nose in shock. Ahkrin gave the human no respite, landing a solid kick in the human's gut. Errand collapsed to the ground in pain, staring up desperately at his attacker. Ahkrin grew arrogant, believing the Colonel beat.

Therefore, he was shocked when Errand drew out from his coat a small object, tossing it in Ahkrin's direction. The Sangheili stared at it curiously, before he realised with horror just what he was staring at.

Flashbang.

Before Ahkrin could avert his eyes, the world exploded in a flurry of light and sound.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ahkrin has gotten himself captured? Oh, this is ironic, Zharn chuckled inwardly as he watched a group of ODSTs drag his unconscious friend inside the warehouse.

He was stood at a distance from the humans, surveying the situation from a perch previously held by a marine sniper. In his hands, Zharn held one of the human rifles. It was a primitive thing, and Zharn was worried it would fall to pieces within his hands if he fired it. Gas operated no doubt, with metal bullets. Zharn's finger barely fit within the small alcove where the sniper rifle's trigger rested.

Still, it would have to do. He looked through the inefficient scope of the weapon, surveying the inside of the warehouse through a window. The humans had tied Ahkrin up, binding him to a chair. Evidently they intended to use him as a hostage. At least he wasn't dead.

How far away was the UNSC VTOL ship now? Probably less than an hour. Zharn sighed, drawing away from the affixed sniper scope for a second, bringing out a communications device from his pocket.

"Ahkrin? Ahkrin, can you hear me?"

The words would be spoken over an encrypted channel, so the humans wouldn't hear them. In turn, the transmitter on Ahkrin's end picked up on the slightest vibrations. The Stealth Sangheili wouldn't even have to make a whisper to reply.

"Affirmative brother, I hear you," came the amplified reply. Zharn smiled despite himself; a marine was standing guard over Ahkrin less than a metre away, and yet the two Sangheili were holding a conversation under his nose.

"What's the situation Ahkrin? No games, we have less than an hour."

A noise of pain echoed back to Zharn, who realised that Ahkrin must be in pain.

"Actually Zharn, we have less than forty minutes. The human ship has landed at the far end of the valley, the Demon has started to take their stolen technology to it. We can't let them, it'd give them an advantage the Covenant can't afford to let them have."

Zharn didn't need that explaining to him. He grimaced.

"Command will have to understand the situation -- we're moving to the secondary plan, despite the risks.."

"Is that the one where we blow everything up?"

"The very same. Hold on Ahkrin, we'll get you out."

"Hurry friend; the human's haven't provided me with blankets. The warehouse is freezing."

The communications link ended. Zharn looked through the human sniper scope to see a wry smile plastered across Ahkrin's face.

He always has to get the last, sarcastic word in. Now, time to request an army.

---

"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.