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Sleek, agile, invisible.
It scored an awesome blue-white luminosity across the skies, wiping painted tears on a black palate. If higher beings were to place a square to the flight path, they'd find it moving at ninety degrees. Before it banked sharply to the left and raised its nose to soar upward, that is. This craft was incredible, sporting organic curves, blending seamlessly into industrial lines, could grow vehicle mounted weapons from any desirable place. One had been flown near a very lucky Spartan called Michael Sheener not so long ago. But all any interested scholar would really need to know could be condensed into six words.
Armored and shielded, sharpened and ready.
Designation: Forerunner Assault Transport.

From a floating stretcher, she felt the slight change in direction, and ground her teeth together to stop herself from groaning. The aliens had applied pain-reducing substances to her body, though they did not completely erase the sensation. Reluctantly, almost subconsciously, she was forced to admit that she felt no better than an incapable herbivore, trapped in a truly unfathomable, inescapable corner. Cut off from everything she knew, she was only able to cling to her own repeated insistences that she simply existed, and that all would turn for betterment by end's meet. Her barely conscious sense of rational thought knew otherwise. Knew that there was no other outcome but pain. Death. She was nothing but a... murderer?
She was an honor-lost killer deserving only to be used by others and discarded.
No, she would not accept such treatment. She could not.
Warily, her eyes opened. It wasn't as if she wished them to do so, yet this was their own volition. They forced her to accept her fate, to see the truth. Around her view, although she could not see far, were cold, hard metallic masks. Behind those were, doubtlessly, hard, focused eyes. The one she recognized as Jaeden'Seul stared at her with a keen fire veiled in his features, apparently satisfied with his belief that she would die. He did not strike her as a man who was easily satisfied. She did not feel any easier. Life was never meant to be easy. She admonished. If she brought herself into a state where she had been placed in a battlefield, she discovered that she felt more at ease. Defeat is unacceptable. Her lips pressed themselves into a thin line, fixed in concentration. To win, I have to be strong. I have to be nothing less than what I have always aspired to be. Myself.
Her muscles tensed, her eyes caught a certain light. As a stray band of it flashed over her face, the silver flakes within her emerald pair sparkled in predatory freedom. If she was afraid, she could not gain the upper hand or the leverage she needed to survive. Jaeden locked his eyes with hers. She tried to draw on an inner strength she had known for nearly all her life, to rip the very soul out of his body. But she found her own expanse mirrored and reflected back at her passionate self.
Phased, her eyes widened.
His mouth twitched in triumph.
She would not let him win. If only she knew how to defeat him; she-
Ah, but she did.
Casually, deliberately, almost childishly, her eyes pooled and rippled with false light. Maybe it was just the odd shadows now cast over her face as the small craft entered a cozy docking bay reserved exclusively for this ship. Or perhaps it was the odd production of her pupils as all the light of life, of innocence, faded from them. Her enemy maintained his gaze, keeping it level, though this effort did not prevail. He knew she had won, as did she. Only when she noted her opponent's failing, she did not smile. Instead she intensified her focus without even thinking of doing it, moving off simple in-bred knowledge. Her vocal chords rumbled slightly, playing with a low, almost sensuous growl. An intimate praise that spoke for itself. He quickly found a place on the wall behind her to look at, adjusting his head. She could smell perspiration in the air. His heartbeat had jumped slightly. Was he afraid?

Before she could analyze the situation any further, the transport glided smoothly to a stop. It slowed so subtly in fact, that she almost hadn't noticed at all. Her captors were quick to disembark. No one bothered to retrieve her for a few minutes, at least. Occasionally she would catch snippets of muted conversation. They had not forgotten about her, this much was clear. Shade felt an urge to call out for someone, to request the presence of some tangible foe. Dead silence could not be beaten. There was no alternative but stalemate. When a change in the air prompted her to the arrival of another presence, she almost grimaced with spontaneous joy. When he began his entrance, she would regret such a naïve emotion. Simply stated, he radiated an aura that was calm, and commanding with an iron-fist of honed leadership. Mortal evil in its self-proclaimed purity.
"I'm telling you, Syidu, she's a clever, manipulative little thing."

Shade did not think herself so, but she did feel that what she believed was irrelevant to what they believed.

"At first I figured she'd be as vulnerable as a pup in an egg, but when she looked at me, right through me, it felt like it was you staring at me, your fingers slightly tensed with a knife in hand. Frankly, it scared the hell out of me."

The other speaker's voice was rich and pleasing to hear, melodious, just like her own. Musical to its very core, yet refined and precise.

"Jaeden, perhaps you'd like to go outside."

With a gulp, her initial keeper plodded away, leaving her alone with his apparent commanding officer. She sniffed. Nothing was any clearer, he was clean of any displeasing smells, in fact brushing off as a sort of white flower carried across the rising vent of an open flame. When he stood at her side, his eyes were directed at her not in any single point, but everywhere, roaming and undaunted. He was a predator inspecting his kill in its final moments, a predator who said to its defenseless meal...

Something to the effect of 'this will be painful for you. And very filling for me.'

Initially she suspected it was desire that drove him, she knew she was wrong. He was a man who analyzed everything much as she did. Weighting, timing, reviewing. Sprinkling a little seasoning into his strategic soup at just the right moment.

"Hello," was all he offered, pivoting, lazily tossing his hand out and seizing a metallic triangle with grips.

Two ramrod straight pins no more than two inches in length presented themselves for inspection, part of the triangle but no less distinguished in their own right. He squeezed his instrument, and two viscous red droplets spurted from the needles. He nodded, serious in nature, grim even. Taking two steps, his arm extended, he was aside her again.
Was he going to stick those into...

"What do you intend?" she questioned, slightly more anxiously than she had wished.
"Just a dose of nano-machines. I can't talk to an unhealthy person, can I?"

His posture told her everything she needed to know. His demeanor was that of a wise mentor, perhaps even a father speaking to his ignorant child. The cold slickness invaded her flesh and withdrew again before she might even flinch, tender, strangely accurate. Its wielder had known what he wanted, only going so far as to achieve it before dropping any action. Her breath issued in a relieved sigh.

"Now that we're over such trivial introductions, my dear, we shall have a civilized conversation."

Shade found herself frowning, pushing up against her restraints. His breath was like sour lilies.

"I implore you, old man; find your point quickly."

Oddly enough, he laughed.

"You are just as I imagined you'd be. Brief, concise, right to the heart of the matter and only beating around the bush when you don't know the answer. In all honesty, dear girl, I am no old man. Truth be told, I am yet young. Not so young as I once was, but young enough. You should barely be out of your egg, and here you are. Indeed, the universe is an odd one."

He shook his head.

"My executive officer, Jaeden, doesn't have much affection for you."

She supposed he seemed almost cordial. He seemed to be in a good mood, at peace with himself. He continued.

"I think out of respect, my clever opponent, I will offer you a deal. I am not without a heart. Despite your obvious shortcomings, the formations of your vessels, and the casualty ratio, you did well."

He has come so that he might lecture me? Suddenly, she felt not small and meaningless, but rather childish and inexperienced, much as a girl felt while being admonished for taking too much dessert from the general supplier's shelves.
The air wasn't stale on her skin; it was welcoming and comfortable. Wherever she was, the environment was carefully watched and regulated to suit the needs of those within it. Her memory rebooted itself and arrived at the most logical conclusion. She was on the alien starship. Now that she was passed this basic stage, she returned her attentions to the situation at hand. What was most disconcerting was that she had expected to be tortured for information, for she understood those situations. This one was almost completely anathema to her. He wanted not war, but peaceful chatter serving no purpose she could understand.
Uncertain, she took another look around the troop bay of the transport shuttle.
Structurally she had seen it before in the human 'Pelican' dropships. The key differences were in the minor features. The benches were elongated to sit more persons, and there were shelves above to stow gear while in transport. Instead of drab black walls there were drab metallic chrome walls, however, there were calligraphy characters scattered about. She lingered on these for a time until she spotted a holographic crystal in the exact center, likely used for mission briefings. He took this opportunity to speak again.

"I offer you your freedom, if you can defeat me in a game of strategy. A game we must surely both know."

She realized only after her hasty agreement that it could virtually be anything, yet her fears were rendered unfounded after he'd explained his little test.
In short order she was up, moving again. When she was at last able to corner him, away from his troops and crewmen, she disregarded her internal alarms and asked a question that could spark her acquaintance into something hopelessly rash.

"Syidu."

The use of his name was pointedly tactical, and her venture appeared to have worked. He turned, raising an eyebrow.

"Why do you treat someone of my composition so?"
"First I would ask-"
"You will answer my question."

Shade marshaled her wits. Heeding impulse first, she realized, was a mistake. His lightning fast reflexes taught her that valuable lesson. Her narrowing eyes taught him that his hand, inches away from striking her, did not frighten her in the least.

He had formerly adopted a hard, angry expression. Now, his demeanor relaxed.

"As you wish. I treat you with civility because it is impolite to treat an equal in any other manner."

She raised an eyebrow, and resumed their stroll at her own pace. Lost on all logical conclusions, she gave up trying to find out why he did it, and decided to allocate more of her mental strengths to finding out how she could use this to her advantage. He seemed much too gracious in her presence, as if he regarded her as a harmless trinket to be placed on his museum shelf.
Harmless trinkets could break, when they did they scattered into a billion pieces, and embedded every last shard so deep into the foot that to attempt to exhume them would be to destroy much of the nervous system. Her metaphor would be accurate, just not in the manner she intended.
Eventually the duo reached a door, a thin opaque membrane with lines of power shooting through it. They were slender, thread-like, and converged on a single point that pooled, rippled with energy. Grey on Grey, and yet they had strange visual substance, almost as if a sheet of foil had been wrapped over a glass pane. She let her eyes brush over the obstacle, turning to find every point where the lines entered walls. At very least scholarship, interesting. To practiced eyes, phenomenal symmetry that seemed equally organic as uniform. Shade let her hand slide along the membrane's shell, following the flows of the currents. Somehow the door opened, melting like an ice cap exposed to plasma during a planet glassing procedure.
When she moved into the newly accessible space, she found herself swallowed in complete darkness. Its effect was not terrible or deadly, merely discomforting. That discomfort bred into innate fear as even her eyes refused to adjust, finding no light with which to use for vision. Was she blind? Was there something out there she could not see or fight, that would kill her in moments? Hiding , waiting for its ambush?
No, there is no creature. I am being paranoid. Call Syidu, he should be about shortly.

"Syidu!" She knew no other name for him, had she not known this one she would have resorted to naming him with a choice insult out of principle. That method could not exactly charm her into his good graces, yet it would have been amusing.
Light broke darkness's reign, perversely warping it into purple-white glow. She could make out the source of that glow immediately, it was a star, the one that the nearby Halo was orbiting. It was present as well. So was rebellious fleet, all pinkish-purple demons in burn sky. Swathed in multiple single-craft escorts, Uzumri waited patiently for any interesting activity. The only vessel not vaguely insectoid in shape. It was in all ways, perfectly resembling a Dragon. An ornate one at that, more like a fine work of art than a warship. It was not its aesthetic appeal that garnered to her, more accurately the destructive potential. For a capitol ship it was massive, easily able to outmaneuver even a scout-vessel, yet outgun the powerful ships sporting plasma lances (more than capable of gutting human vessels stem to stern). Take more punishment than an orbital weapons platform, outlast entire human fleets. Which explained why her chosen Flagship escaped alone, into slipspace, fleeing from the victorious alien cruiser, if it could be named such an understatement. Her eyes blinked once, barely comprehending what they'd just witnessed. Heedless of where she was, Shade let free a gentle command. "Show me again."
The holographic story rewound itself and began anew. The Doomharrow fleet was motionless, unsuspecting. Confident in its security, certain that its recon pickets would detect any incoming threats long before they reached the aging vessels. They would have more than enough time to mobilize. Currently, they waited just beyond the range of the Halo installation, in a station-keeping with it, as it dutifully orbited the purple-yellow star, with its thick clouds of equally purple radiation. She failed to notice the overwhelming presence of the color purple, more focused on what happened next. Missiles unknown in signature and make slammed into cluttered formations, phasing straight out of slipspace. From the shadow of the star, a group of single-ships broke into an incredibly fast run toward a ship she recognized- the Crimson Snows. Little explosions pricked along its surface and finally the cruiser exploded. As per her orders in such a crisis situation, all ships organized themselves into a phalanx-type formation, awaiting the appearance of the human or mainstream Covenant fleet that opposed them. A formation which ensured all vessels, with their modified shield grids, could share the overall damage with one another and fire into their foes to devastating effect. Most of the single-craft disappeared. The weapons recharged and fired. The last craft blinked off the display. It was not any typical presence they were facing, she now knew, noting her dropship vacate her Flagship. A massive spacecraft, too large to be called anything but a Planet-Killer, by her standards, appeared from a dimension she could not possibly know. It floated at a comfortable distance and employed what were quite simply, massive anti-ship cannons. Conventional weapons that tore the less-than-flimsy cruisers apart as if they were less than nothing. Her interest piqued, she studied the alien craft.
The features immediately noticeable were the colors. It could be either a brightly shining silver, or an obscure black, fluctuating like a fine jewel through its two colors. Sometimes she could not see it at all, despite it being right in front of her eyes. Others, it was awe inspiring, a testament to its creators that it could literally render sightless any who beheld its terrible glory. As it fought, if she decided not to choose the word slaughtered, it would change shape and perhaps even composition to better suit its position. Port becoming starboard, bridge becoming engineering, cargo holds melting into one another and creating impassable barriers in front of boarders. There was no halting in its crew's flawless co-ordination and communication, oftentimes the ship was changing to better provide the crew an advantage. The technology, she felt forced to admit, was incredible. Condensing into sub-planes of reality and expanding again into the physical world in milliseconds, science so advanced and unfathomable it could be called magic. The impossible become undeniably existent.
"You like what you see?" Syidu was watching her, rather than the holographic reproduction.
She turned her head to him, struggling not to remain in her own reality. "I do not find it unpleasant." She chose her words carefully, remembering to speak in a proper manner. Anything less was below her station, the other must know that.
"This vessel, the hologram you are watching and the deck on which you stand, is the Burning Eternal." He began circling the perimeter of the room, quietly contemplating. "The largest, most advanced engine of destruction in the Forerunner arsenal, precise within a molecule, host to innumerable weapons of mass-destruction. Armored and shielded with countless energies, capable of slipping between the various dimensions as if they were no more than a thin oxygen layer. Unassailable."
"Dramatically overpowering." She finished dryly, trying to find his point before he overwhelmed her in a pointless speech.
"Yes, precisely." He raised his eyes to hers. "Tell me, do you know who this is?"
The room flashed so brightly she closed her eyes. No one seemed to account for their sensitivity, it was a curse as much a blessing. Things others might dismiss as mere annoying droning in the back of their minds, she dealt with every moment, picking the things important from those that were insignificant and unneeded. Shade opened them again, and spotted across the room a woman.
She carried around her, even an illusion as she was, an aura of passionate belief. The lines in her youthful, attractive face suggested aged wisdom beyond her years, with complimenting eyes that knew both great compassion and reserved, calculating ambition. Her eyes are as mine. So too with her hair, but longer, more untamed. She felt a note of appreciation inside her mind for the simple, all-telling garment she wore. A blue cheongsam, with thin straps that revealed the shoulders, yet enough modesty to protect one's image of respect and integrity.
Before she realized what she was doing, she was speaking, a gentle, ghostly murmur. "She appears in all that I see, similar to me."
She knew in some way, she did not need to look at him to know he had grown tense. "This regal woman was my bind-mate. My life partner. Her name was," He held back, his voice was beginning to crack. When he spoke again, it was strong and self assured. "Zeira. You remind me of her."
"I know nothing of this creature." Her hand distorted the features of the representation, sliding through it and warping every aspect. Startled, she retracted her hand. It had seemed so real moments ago. Shade frowned, not recalling what he had been saying. Aware that she might seem weak, she stood straighter, stiff almost, as if at military attention. "When do we begin your game?" She turned her full attention to her enigmatic host.

He had relocated to a dark corner, and placed a hand on his face. When she saw him, though, he was in the process of flicking an errant bunch of long blonde hair from his face, dispelling the ominous shadow which had reigned over his eyes. "Game?"
"My freedom, should I defeat you in your game of strategy." She replied matter-of-factly. His word was the only thing she had, if she lost that advantage...
"Ah, yes." He stepped forward, into the light. "A riddle, quite simple. The strategy is in finding the better answer of the many you could choose. Listen to the song."
"Still now my child, still now your grace.
Rest easy ever, I'm here with you; night
will not claim thee, sleep now e'er last.

Standing my guard is, warding our shore
back dreary monsters, they shalt
not snatch; Erosee, for I guard here.

Close your eyes young one, daughter
black hair. Green eyes of mother, violet
father. Precious your life is, so dear.

Still now my child, still now your grace;
rest easy ever, I'm with you now, night
will not claim thee, sleep now e'er last.
My little Black-hair,
Your star yet shines..."


His voice was something she appreciated, rich and full of music, as her own was. It lacked several crucial elements, however. The most important being contempt. So, this was his game. He was playing out psychological conditioning, much like introducing a fresh recruit to war by desensitization; the process of ensuring that one kills without compunction, who has no conscience. Only his was aimed at weakening her so she could be more effectively interrogated. She let her face fall into a mode of contemplation, uncertainty. He waited impassively. "Well?"
When she felt the necessary time had passed, she indulged him. "I will not play your game."
"My game?"
"Do not insult my intelligence. I have won over you."
He sighed. "Very well." He seemed disappointed. "This way."
Truly, she was surprised. It was melodramatic on his part, fantastic, fake even, to end their discussion so prematurely. But then, things seldom were perfect and noble, often things never had good reasons for happening- they just did. And right now, she was glad that things were happing as they were, for she was headed back toward the others. Back toward the index. Three meters ahead, Syidu Daystar was smiling. The web of intrigue had been spun, and expanded every moment in his favor. Empires would fall, razed to ash. Stars would die, new forces let free from their millennia old cages. The grand design had found its crucial piece. The Queen that crushed the Knights, slaughtered the pawns, murdered the bishops. Burned the castles and laid to rest the king on his checkered seat. And at the center of it all, he stood watching. The invisible third player pulling the strings.

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