Halo: Atonement

Part III: Encounter

"The enemy of my enemy is not my friend. Just someone with whom I share a common goal."
    -Sangheili Proverb

May 18, 2553
Retribution's Compunction, en route to Shaps III

Shipmaster 'Kosuvai looked at the viewscreens, observing the nondimemsions of Slipspace. The endless void was as dark as a night on Suban, and just as mysterious. 'Kosuvai's cobalt-hued combat armor was marked by gold inscriptions in the Forerunner text, a privilege only granted to Sangheili warriors who had distinguished themselves in combat, both in space and on land. He was wearing a traditional Kaidon's cape, made from the pelt of a doarmir he'd slain in his Trial of Strength. Naru sat in his Shipmaster's chair in the middle of the command center. The purple lighting of the entire ship gave a quasi-religious atmosphere to the room, although the Shipmaster suspected that was the reason the San'shyuum designed it that way.
The San'shyuum. 'Kosuvai was struck with rage as he thought of the Prophets who had led him blindly. He wished to strangle the Prophet of Atonement with his own hands, to make the filthy worm suffer for the dishonor he had committed. Eilu 'Nardram, who remained loyal 'Kosuvai through the Great Schism, interrupted the Shipmaster's train of thought before he tore himself into a rage. 'Nardram, like almost every other Elite, had dropped the -ee suffix from his name which had signified his allegiance to the Covenant military.
"Shipmaster 'Kosuvai, we are set to renter normal space in less than ten cycles," reported 'Nardram. 'Kosuvai turned to his communications officer, a warrior named Skora 'Edar.
"Communications, open a line to the fleet. All Shipmasters." They were almost at the rendezvous point at Shaps III. 'Kosuvai needed to gather the weapons he had promised to trade, but he would not be too trusting.
"Weapons, ready all plasma lines. If we are ambushed, I want us to be ready." His weapons officer nodded. 'Edar looked up from his console.
"My lord, the fleet is listening. They await your orders." He then lowered his head in respect towards the Shipmaster. Naru 'Kosuvai looked around at the half dozen bridge crew and the few infantry officers who were in the room. Commander 'Undalar was among them. 'Undalar nodded approvingly in 'Kosuvai's direction.
Then the Shipmaster spoke.
"My brothers, the Prophet of Atonement has taught us lies for years, and now he has fled, fearing our wrath. He and the other bastard San'shyuum have gone into hiding, using their Jiralhanae puppets to carry out their will. They ordered the massacre of our brethren in cold blood, and we are honorbound to avenge them."
    At this, the Elites in the room roared with anger, beating their chests with their fists like a primal war drum. 'Kosuvai continued his address.
    "Fellow Shipmasters, my comrades, brothers, we are about to do a deal with the Devil, as the humans say. But these Jiralhanae pose no threat. This 'Cerebus' has appointed himself Chieftain of his pack, and has offered the location to the Prophet of Atonement's new liege."
    Sounds of shock and surprise came from the communications console, but the Shipmaster didn't halt in his speech.
    "Cerebus is weak. His pack possesses only a single destroyer, and Jiralhanae are not ample commanders. We will meet this Cerebus, learn the location of this damned heretic, and send him on the way to his 'Great Journey'."
    The sounds emanating from the console quickly changed from criticism to exuberance about the redemption of their keeps and clans. 'Undalar's mandibles flexed, expressing his satisfaction. If words were weapons, 'Kosuvai's mouth would be a Halo ring. Shipmaster 'Kosuvai ended his communique with two sentences:
    "Ready the crates, and we shall begin our hunt for our redemption and Atonement. May the gods be with us."
'Nardram signaled off the fleetwide transmission, ready for the coming battles. Religious fervor was an easy thing to fake for the Shipmaster, as he had been zealously following the a Prophets for his entire life. Naru 'Kosuvai returned to his command chair just as the Retribution's Compunction and the other seven corvettes and light warships emerged from Slipspace over the rocky wasteland of Shaps III. The surface was gray and barren, a desolate badland, marked only by ancient Forerunner ruins. Relu 'Undalar dropped to his knee, along with several others present. 'Kosuvai snarled as he ordered them up.
"Get up! Do you really think the Brutes will allow for sanctity? For respect? They will not! Now everyone, rise and return to your stations," he spat. 'Undalar and the other officers rose, a look of wonder in their eyes. It was not hard to see why. Forerunner ruins were not common. But there was something off about the surface. Across parts of the ruins, and some of the surface, the landscape had been leveled and melted, the kind of damage that only a Covenant ventral beam would be capable of. A growl crawled out of Skora 'Edar's throat. He was one of the most devout followers of the Old Ways, and the desecration of the site clearly angered him.
    "Damned Brutes. They possess no respect, no honor. They are all nishum." 'Kosuvai recognized the extreme insult of an intestinal parasite, and attempted to reconcile Skora's anger.
    "Skora, the gods will punish these heretics. We are not to interfere in their ways," he reconciled. The officer appeared to calm slightly at this fact, as if he had not considered it. Above Shaps III, a small moon hung in orbit. It moved ever so further across it's orbit, revealing the silhouette of a Covenant CPV-class destroyer. The small warships were one of the few granted to the Jiralhanae before the Great Schism. A small mechanical beep came from the communications console. 'Nardram looked at the Shipmaster, bewilderment in his eyes.
    "Shipmaster, the destroyer, the Brutes, they're hailing us," he said, shocked. Naru 'Kosuvai remained stoic as he issued the order.
    "Put them through, display on screen." The central viewscreen flickered as the image of the surrounding space transitioned to the face of a Jiralhanae. The Brute's dark brown fur covered his entire body. His mouth had large teeth, made to rip and tear into the flesh of his enemies. The Brute had a small plate of gray metal covering the top of his head like a makeshift helmet, with the rest of his armor having been cobbled together from scraps of metal plating and leather strips. The Brute was the first to speak.
    "Well, well, Shipmaster, it appears you have decided to accept my deal. I am Cerebus, and I lead this pack," announced the Chieftain. His rough, guttural voice rebounded through the command center's speakers. Shipmaster 'Kosuvai was repulsed by the Jiralhanae and his lack of honor, but was not dissuaded.
    "Indeed I have, Jiralhanae, and I am now willing to trade you three crates of rifles, carbines, and pistols for information on the Prophet of Atonement." 'Kosuvai was attempting to the best of his abilities to not fire on the destroyer. For all he knew, this ship had helped in the attempted genocide of his people. Cerebus made a hmph noise in the back of his throat.
"Only three? Surely your 'Sangheili honor' is worth more than that. Bring five crates to the Forerunner ruins, and I will meet you to transfer the information you desire." The Shipmaster glowered at the Jiralhanae, but he could not risk losing any information regarding the Prophet and his location.
"Hm. You leave me no choice then. I will deliver the weapons to the surface and you shall meet me. But be warned. If you cross me, my ships will vaporize your entire pack." Cerebus smirked.
"I wouldn't dream of it," uttered the Chieftain. The transmission cut off, the display of the lifeless planet returning to view. Commander 'Undalar strode up to his Shipmaster.
    "Storm General 'Palam is in the lower hangar bay with a detachment of troops guarding the crates. They are waiting for you, Shipmaster." Imnar 'Palam led the shock troops aboard the Compunction, and was one of the fiercest fighters 'Kosuvai had ever known. Rumor among the younger warriors was that the gods had removed 'Palam's ability to fear, allowing him to attack with such ruthlessness that would scare a gûta. For all Naru 'Kosuvai knew, it was true. Never before had 'Palam lost a battle, and he would rather lose his own life than to allow the enemy an advantage. Shipmaster 'Kosuvai nodded his assent.
    "Inform 'Palam that I will be down there shortly. I will deal with this Brute myself."