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A Sangheili Story by Bodie
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A Sangheili Story: Chapter 1, Brute Betrayal.
Date: 27 April 2006, 6:36 am
"Betrayal is the only
truth that sticks."
- Arthur Miller
Ninth Age of Reclamation,
Lesser Prophets Sanctum,
Covenant Holy City High Charity.
The Prophet of Nobility looked out his window, and admired his view. He had one of the few perfect vantage points which to look out over the city. His gaze fell on many structures that riddled the floor of the city, each one a brilliant piece of architecture, but his eyes always carried him back to the gaping hole that once was the home of the pride of this holy place.
The Spirit of the Prophets, the ancient Forerunner spaceship whose energy had been re-routed to power the city. It also boosted High Charity's defence ability tenfold. With it gone, the Flood was infesting the whole city, and Nobility had to leave, go back to the safest part of the city.
Sangheili warship, Chalice of Purity,
In orbit above Covenant Holy City High Charity.
Orea 'Nasulee sat in his command chair, impatiently waiting for the transmission to load. He could tell it was not a notice of good news. Any letter from the Jiralhanae meant trouble. The Jiralhanae themselves were trouble, and of that, the Zealot was sure. But the Prophets trusted them, and that meant all the Covenant had to. Still, that didn't stop the Sangheili talking about them behind their large, hairy backs.
"Such is the Prophet's decree." mumbled 'Nasulee, and continued to wait for the transmission. Units of waiting proved worthless, as the transmission wouldn't open.
"Its contents can't be that large, Excellency!" exclaimed 'Hatumee, the weapons officer,
"The Brutes aren't smart enough to write anything so large! I would delete the message if I were you."
"Enough, 'Hatumee." 'Nasulee said, softly. He looked at the young Ultra. 'Hatumee was one of the best weapons officers in the fleet, and was the second in command. He would wait until the message decoded, even if it took all day. He put the message aside, and continued the rundown of the repairs to his ship. His destroyer took heavy damage during the battle of the major human world; Reach, the humans called it, and repairs had begun only a few units ago. He watched on his veiwscreen, as the Yanme'e were carrying out repairs to the outside of the ships, and the Huragok as they fixed the damaged interior.
'Nasulee was searching through the ships main databanks, when he came across something. A quick analysis confirmed it to be a decoding program of some kind.
"'Tekajee! Did we have any decoding programs onboard our ship?" The Zealot asked the communications officer.
"No, Excellency. We had none that I was aware of." The officer replied.
Strange... thought 'Nasulee, and ran it through an analysis. It was something that was accidentally intercepted by his ship's transponder system. 'Nasulee traced the emission point. It was from the Sanctum of the Hierarchs to all Brute warships, sent very recently.
'Nasulee activated the program and sent it to work on the Brute transmission. He concluded that it couldn't hurt to try, and this waiting was getting ridiculous.
The effect was almost instantaneous. Complex coded symbols filed the left veiwscreen, and 'Nasulee recognised them from his intelligence division training.
All these symbols indicate a… virus? 'Nasulee thought.
And a virus it was. A virus so well crafted that it would quickly shut down all systems of a warship, leaving it defenceless. He quickly sent the code to delete the message, and fortunately, it wasn't too far down the track of infestation. He sent a message to all Sangheili warships in this system to delete all Brute messages. Some agreed, but others didn't reply; a sign of the virus taking over.
It was then that 'Nasulee saw the Jiralhanae warships float over to the deactivated Sangheili warships and obliterate them…
Sangheili warship, Peaceful Order,
In orbit above Covenant Holy City High Charity.
Suma 'Trasulee watched, as the virus enveloped his ships systems. Shut them down one by one, starting with defence systems, then their weapons, then the reactors.
"What is the meaning of this?" 'Trasulee yelled, as a Jiralhanae warship came closer. When its plasma turrets glowed an intense white, tinged with blue, 'Trasulee realised.
"Vile, disloyal beasts!" he exclaimed, as the turrets fired and deadly plasma streaked toward his defenceless Battle Cruiser, and punctured the black space with flashes.
Ninth Age of Reclamation,
High Council chambers,
Covenant Holy City High Charity.
This was one of the last places the Flood hadn't overrun, and a lone elderly Prophet sat on a throne, bobbing over the dais.
It had to be done, Nobility thought to himself, They were not worthy enough to protect the Hierarchs, or walk the path to salvation. He tried to justify his actions, prove to himself that what he did was right. But he couldn't. The facts were staring him the face, and he had bleakly ignored them, until now.
The High Prophets of Regret and Mercy met their end, not by the Demon, as many of the Unggoy and Kig-yar believed, but by Truth. And Nobility had sent the order of mass genocide of the Sangheili. He wanted to stop it, but he didn't know if he could.
No matter; he had to try...
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