(Inspired by House Of Rebirth and Far Flung Hope)
The Dawn Canyon
"Move! Move, you worthless...
The Dawn Canyon
"Move! Move, you worthless...
House Of Ghosts (Destiny/Megacross SI)
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In Media Res: The Battle Of Dawn Canyon
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
(Inspired by House Of Rebirth and Far Flung Hope)
The Dawn Canyon
"Move! Move, you worthless Grunts! I will not see this attack fail because of your cowardice!" The tall, nearly seven-foot, armored being roared at the squat creatures being forced forward by the threat of being trampled by the larger beings forcing their way towards the front lines, hungry for glory and the honour of beating down the latest upstarts to the inexorable march of the Covenant Empire.
"But Commander! They're too strong!" One of the recalcitrant Unggoy whined, "We can't get close before zap! Everyone falls dead! They're like the Demons, they can't be killed!" The methane-breather's words were loud enough to be heard over the screaming of plasma mortars and weapons fire, loud enough that other Unggoy heard him and before long morale was already start to drop sharply amongst the small beings.
In a flash of purple-white and a hiss of superheated air the Sangheili Commander leading the assault on the canyon strong-point holding back his assault on the rebel forces beyond cleaved the defeatist's head from his shoulders, "I will not tolerate cowardice! Face the enemy, or face me, but only one shall lead you to glory!"
Backs stiffened by the implied threat of what would happen to them if they attempted to mutiny and with the crush of bodies preventing escape, the Unggoy were forced to charge forwards with the Sangheili and Jiralhanae following hot on their heels; the Commander grinned as he looked up at the sky to see incoming Type-54's being highlighted on his tactical display.
"Air support is inbound. Let us see how well they fa-"
*KRA-THOOM!* A projectile of reddish-orange energy lanced out and neatly speared one of the approaching Covenant fighters, detonating it in a flash of green, white and purple before another thundering shot swatted another from the sky as the third tried to abort its attack run. It nearly made it before another shot tore off a wing and a large section of the fuselage, sending it spinning down into a cluster of Sangheili who vanished in flash of plasma.
Climbing up to higher ground, the Commander peered at the distant, spiderlike, shape stomping into a firing position before the long gun on its back fired and reduced a cluster of Jiralhanae to ash as the rotary gun underneath the head of the strange walker opened fire, bolts of blue-white energy pummeling shields and shredding flesh where it did not simply consume in crackling webs of lightning.
It was impossible, it was inconceivable, it was unbelievable, but it was happening and it was an undeniable truth to the Commander's eyes. Somehow, this lone canyon, at its narrowest and only passable point, was holding and the attack that had been planned to take place at night to strike at the rebelling Tau and their new allies was almost certainly a failure.
And it was all because of these...these pirates! Mercenaries! Honourless, thieving scum that sought only plunder and wealth were holding the line against some of the finest soldiers of the Covenant Legions! The Commander knew his mission had failed, but he would see these mercenaries fall first! "Keep fighting! You will not be stopped by pirates and mercenaries! This canyon is vital to the Empire and by the Prophets, we shall open it!"
A roar sounded from the advancing forces trying to force their way through the maze of ruined walker and hover-tank hulks lying alongside jutting rocks as blue bolts hissed from the strong-point, joined by bolts of red-orange that stuck to soldier and machine like burning glue before exploding in fireballs that sprayed glowing shrapnel into their comrades or cored tanks with impudent ease.
And then, it happened. Striking from the sky like a bolt of burning lightning and incinerating everything around it in a wave of flame, the leader of the mercenaries showed herself and the Commander snarled as he began moving towards the figure surrounded by a halo of burning light as it spoke in a voice that send primal shivers of fear and awe down the spines of those who heard it, "So this is the mighty Covenant. I am not impressed, how can one be impressed when a force such as yours cannot take a canyon?"
It was tall, nearly the height of a Jiralhanae, with four arms that held two swords in the upper pair while the lower pair toyed with a large rifle. It was the swords that held the eyes of all present; longer than a Sangheili's leg and possessing visibly fine serrated edges, one wreathed in crackling lightning and the other cloaked in violet-black fog as the Commander saw it take a step forward.
As the foot sunk into the dirt that was now rapidly bubbling into glass, it continued speaking, "I am not certain how you are feared. Perhaps it is your numbers? You are certainly wasteful enough. Maybe it is all of your stolen wealth and territory? It is respectable, worthy of envy. Hmm, no, I cannot find it in myself to fear you, for you truly are nothing." The Commander was close enough now to recognize enough of its shape and mannerisms to be a female, and that only spurred him onwards as he drew his plasma sword.
Shoving his way forward, the Commander pointed his sword directly at the towering being, "I am Commander Nal Va'lis, and I challenge you scum! I offer you the chance to die a merciful, honorable death at the hands of the Covenant Empire before my reinforcements drown you and crush you into the dirt!"
There was a long moment of silence, before a sound began to echo in the canyon just as the rising sun rose in the distance, bathing the land in blood-red light as the being's laughter echoed through the canyons like a horrifying song.
"Very well, 'Commander', I shall indulge you." Holstering her rifle, the being took another burning step forwards, "I am the Kell of Kells, High Archon and Light-Drinker. I am Sun Fire, Void Walker and Storm Caller. I am Daevil, Ruler of the House Of Ghosts, Champion of The Fallen."
Her swords flashed in a complex pattern.
"And today, none shall leave this place alive."
Silent and hidden behind veils spun from acausality, a purple and black orb watched the proceedings with a calm eye as the intelligence within prepared to further his studies of this strange reality.
The Dawn Canyon
"Move! Move, you worthless Grunts! I will not see this attack fail because of your cowardice!" The tall, nearly seven-foot, armored being roared at the squat creatures being forced forward by the threat of being trampled by the larger beings forcing their way towards the front lines, hungry for glory and the honour of beating down the latest upstarts to the inexorable march of the Covenant Empire.
"But Commander! They're too strong!" One of the recalcitrant Unggoy whined, "We can't get close before zap! Everyone falls dead! They're like the Demons, they can't be killed!" The methane-breather's words were loud enough to be heard over the screaming of plasma mortars and weapons fire, loud enough that other Unggoy heard him and before long morale was already start to drop sharply amongst the small beings.
In a flash of purple-white and a hiss of superheated air the Sangheili Commander leading the assault on the canyon strong-point holding back his assault on the rebel forces beyond cleaved the defeatist's head from his shoulders, "I will not tolerate cowardice! Face the enemy, or face me, but only one shall lead you to glory!"
Backs stiffened by the implied threat of what would happen to them if they attempted to mutiny and with the crush of bodies preventing escape, the Unggoy were forced to charge forwards with the Sangheili and Jiralhanae following hot on their heels; the Commander grinned as he looked up at the sky to see incoming Type-54's being highlighted on his tactical display.
"Air support is inbound. Let us see how well they fa-"
*KRA-THOOM!* A projectile of reddish-orange energy lanced out and neatly speared one of the approaching Covenant fighters, detonating it in a flash of green, white and purple before another thundering shot swatted another from the sky as the third tried to abort its attack run. It nearly made it before another shot tore off a wing and a large section of the fuselage, sending it spinning down into a cluster of Sangheili who vanished in flash of plasma.
Climbing up to higher ground, the Commander peered at the distant, spiderlike, shape stomping into a firing position before the long gun on its back fired and reduced a cluster of Jiralhanae to ash as the rotary gun underneath the head of the strange walker opened fire, bolts of blue-white energy pummeling shields and shredding flesh where it did not simply consume in crackling webs of lightning.
It was impossible, it was inconceivable, it was unbelievable, but it was happening and it was an undeniable truth to the Commander's eyes. Somehow, this lone canyon, at its narrowest and only passable point, was holding and the attack that had been planned to take place at night to strike at the rebelling Tau and their new allies was almost certainly a failure.
And it was all because of these...these pirates! Mercenaries! Honourless, thieving scum that sought only plunder and wealth were holding the line against some of the finest soldiers of the Covenant Legions! The Commander knew his mission had failed, but he would see these mercenaries fall first! "Keep fighting! You will not be stopped by pirates and mercenaries! This canyon is vital to the Empire and by the Prophets, we shall open it!"
A roar sounded from the advancing forces trying to force their way through the maze of ruined walker and hover-tank hulks lying alongside jutting rocks as blue bolts hissed from the strong-point, joined by bolts of red-orange that stuck to soldier and machine like burning glue before exploding in fireballs that sprayed glowing shrapnel into their comrades or cored tanks with impudent ease.
And then, it happened. Striking from the sky like a bolt of burning lightning and incinerating everything around it in a wave of flame, the leader of the mercenaries showed herself and the Commander snarled as he began moving towards the figure surrounded by a halo of burning light as it spoke in a voice that send primal shivers of fear and awe down the spines of those who heard it, "So this is the mighty Covenant. I am not impressed, how can one be impressed when a force such as yours cannot take a canyon?"
It was tall, nearly the height of a Jiralhanae, with four arms that held two swords in the upper pair while the lower pair toyed with a large rifle. It was the swords that held the eyes of all present; longer than a Sangheili's leg and possessing visibly fine serrated edges, one wreathed in crackling lightning and the other cloaked in violet-black fog as the Commander saw it take a step forward.
As the foot sunk into the dirt that was now rapidly bubbling into glass, it continued speaking, "I am not certain how you are feared. Perhaps it is your numbers? You are certainly wasteful enough. Maybe it is all of your stolen wealth and territory? It is respectable, worthy of envy. Hmm, no, I cannot find it in myself to fear you, for you truly are nothing." The Commander was close enough now to recognize enough of its shape and mannerisms to be a female, and that only spurred him onwards as he drew his plasma sword.
Shoving his way forward, the Commander pointed his sword directly at the towering being, "I am Commander Nal Va'lis, and I challenge you scum! I offer you the chance to die a merciful, honorable death at the hands of the Covenant Empire before my reinforcements drown you and crush you into the dirt!"
There was a long moment of silence, before a sound began to echo in the canyon just as the rising sun rose in the distance, bathing the land in blood-red light as the being's laughter echoed through the canyons like a horrifying song.
"Very well, 'Commander', I shall indulge you." Holstering her rifle, the being took another burning step forwards, "I am the Kell of Kells, High Archon and Light-Drinker. I am Sun Fire, Void Walker and Storm Caller. I am Daevil, Ruler of the House Of Ghosts, Champion of The Fallen."
Her swords flashed in a complex pattern.
"And today, none shall leave this place alive."
Silent and hidden behind veils spun from acausality, a purple and black orb watched the proceedings with a calm eye as the intelligence within prepared to further his studies of this strange reality.
"Interesting."
Archive 0: The Tower
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Welcome to the Tower Archive Search Assistant. How may I assist you?
>The Fallen
Searching...
There are over one-thousand Archive records pertaining to The Fallen. Can you clarify your request?
>Legends, Light-Drinker
Searching...
One record matches your clarified request.
>CMD: Display
Displaying now.
The Fallen possess a surprisingly rich oral tradition of legends and story-telling, embellished or modified between Ketch captains and crewmembers to highlight specific aspects or personal preferences. One legend that has remained surprisingly intact and universal amongst Fallen Houses has always been the legend of the Light-Drinker.
Part prophecy, part motivational speech, part bed-time story, the Legend Of The Light-Drinker is a tale of the coming of The Darkness to the Fallen, or as they call themselves, Eliksini, as The Whirlwind that cast the Traveller or Great Machine to the vastness of space while destroying their small star-nation.
Following the Light of the Traveler in great fleets of ships, the Eliksini soon begin to turn on each other as supplies run low and tensions run high, causing ships to go missing, or break away to find their own paths, never to return. Those that do return are all described by a single word that has translated almost exactly into English.
Taken.
The legend continues to describe wars against a staggering array of races as the Eliksini scavenge and cobble together working technology and reverse-engineer everything stolen, with some of the races described bearing similarities to the Hive and Cabal, and others to races serving in the United Compact and the Covenant Empire. Others have no records beyond what has been gleaned from Fallen ships and downed Servitors, and they are all horrifying.
It is here that the legend begins to take a swing for the prophetic; before the Eliksini can reduce each other to barbarism, a star made of pure Light catches their attention from the dim glow of The Traveler that they have been following, and before long its radiance draws many towards it; lesser Houses that had not yet been absorbed by the Devils, Kings, Winter and Wolves.
And it is there that they find it; all of the tellings across no less than eighty Fallen Ketches describe an Eliksini, taller than any other, glowing with burning radiance and wielding the elements of Arc, Solar and Void in harmony to grant it incredible powers. Stunned, the lesser Houses all ask how such a being can exist.
And it is then that the strange being hands the leaders of these lesser Houses a vial of pure Light, and in an instant they bend their knee.
From there the legend goes on to describe the Eliksini as ascendant once more, rebuilding what was taken from them by The Darkness and opening the way to the Light beyond chasing after the distant Traveler. All accounts name this apparent Eliksini version of a powerful Guardian by a single name to account for its genderless nature in the legends.
That name, again surprisingly, directly translates as The Light-Drinker in reference to how this legendary figure consumes Lights rather than the Ether that all Fallen ration amongst themselves and maintained by their Servitors.
To date, there have also been recorded instances of powerful Fallen warlords, excluding the infamous Skolas, who have attempted to use trickery and great personal skill and power to take the title Light-Drinker for themselves, but all who have done so have all met with brutal and vicious ends.
But, I am glad that such a being remains in the realm of myth and legend, for if there truly is a Light-Drinker then it would truly be a being worthy of the title Kell Of Kells, able to command the unswerving devotion and loyalty of all Fallen across the Universe.
And how can one stand against such a being?
>The Fallen
Searching...
There are over one-thousand Archive records pertaining to The Fallen. Can you clarify your request?
>Legends, Light-Drinker
Searching...
One record matches your clarified request.
>CMD: Display
Displaying now.
Legends and Myths Of The Fallen, by Cryptohistorian Amadeus-09
The Light-Drinker
The Light-Drinker
The Fallen possess a surprisingly rich oral tradition of legends and story-telling, embellished or modified between Ketch captains and crewmembers to highlight specific aspects or personal preferences. One legend that has remained surprisingly intact and universal amongst Fallen Houses has always been the legend of the Light-Drinker.
Part prophecy, part motivational speech, part bed-time story, the Legend Of The Light-Drinker is a tale of the coming of The Darkness to the Fallen, or as they call themselves, Eliksini, as The Whirlwind that cast the Traveller or Great Machine to the vastness of space while destroying their small star-nation.
Following the Light of the Traveler in great fleets of ships, the Eliksini soon begin to turn on each other as supplies run low and tensions run high, causing ships to go missing, or break away to find their own paths, never to return. Those that do return are all described by a single word that has translated almost exactly into English.
Taken.
The legend continues to describe wars against a staggering array of races as the Eliksini scavenge and cobble together working technology and reverse-engineer everything stolen, with some of the races described bearing similarities to the Hive and Cabal, and others to races serving in the United Compact and the Covenant Empire. Others have no records beyond what has been gleaned from Fallen ships and downed Servitors, and they are all horrifying.
It is here that the legend begins to take a swing for the prophetic; before the Eliksini can reduce each other to barbarism, a star made of pure Light catches their attention from the dim glow of The Traveler that they have been following, and before long its radiance draws many towards it; lesser Houses that had not yet been absorbed by the Devils, Kings, Winter and Wolves.
And it is there that they find it; all of the tellings across no less than eighty Fallen Ketches describe an Eliksini, taller than any other, glowing with burning radiance and wielding the elements of Arc, Solar and Void in harmony to grant it incredible powers. Stunned, the lesser Houses all ask how such a being can exist.
And it is then that the strange being hands the leaders of these lesser Houses a vial of pure Light, and in an instant they bend their knee.
From there the legend goes on to describe the Eliksini as ascendant once more, rebuilding what was taken from them by The Darkness and opening the way to the Light beyond chasing after the distant Traveler. All accounts name this apparent Eliksini version of a powerful Guardian by a single name to account for its genderless nature in the legends.
That name, again surprisingly, directly translates as The Light-Drinker in reference to how this legendary figure consumes Lights rather than the Ether that all Fallen ration amongst themselves and maintained by their Servitors.
To date, there have also been recorded instances of powerful Fallen warlords, excluding the infamous Skolas, who have attempted to use trickery and great personal skill and power to take the title Light-Drinker for themselves, but all who have done so have all met with brutal and vicious ends.
But, I am glad that such a being remains in the realm of myth and legend, for if there truly is a Light-Drinker then it would truly be a being worthy of the title Kell Of Kells, able to command the unswerving devotion and loyalty of all Fallen across the Universe.
And how can one stand against such a being?
Last edited:
Communication Log 0: Shadow Broker
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Recording of Council communique with SPECTRE agent Tela Vasir:
>Tela Vasir: Councilor, what can I do for you?
>Councilor Tevos: I will be blunt, Vasir. STG, Alliance Naval Intelligence, Hierarchy Firewatch and even the Office Of Naval Intelligence of our vaunted 'United Compact' allies have found no information concerning these 'Fallen' converging on the Anvil from just about every known galaxy. That is a number that we can at least accurately estimate as being in the hundreds of thousands, possibly millions.
>Vasir: So a race of wandering pirates and mercs only marginally better off than the Quarians are gathering in the one galaxy that happens to be one massive Free Fire Zone. In my personal opinion, let them, it'll mean less chance of people getting melted down into that Ether stuff of theirs.
>Tevos: And if I went on to tell you that they have done nothing? No raiding, no mercenary contracts, the Fallen converging on the Anvil simply vanish and are never seen again?
>Vasir: My opinion would not change. Granted, they could be planning something big, but the Anvil is a total warzone where planets trade hands every standard year, I wouldn't be surprised if they're doing a territory grab before the Compact or the Covenant move in and crush them.
>Tevos: And what would you say to a mere six million Fallen holding a strategic, resource rich cluster of approximately twenty-two star systems, each of them with habitable Garden worlds due to Precursor interference, from both Compact and Covenant forces ranging in the billions?
>Vasir: I'd call you a liar to your face, Councilor.
>Tevos: Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to deny that small pleasure to you Vasir. A data-packet is being sent to you in a secure email. Read it, memorize your orders, and then scrub it from your Omnitool. After that, you are to meet with SPECTRE Lilith Shepard and her team along with a Compact Special Forces unit and proceed to the Anvil.
Intercepting Secure Email. Interception and download successful. Passing email to recipient.
>Vasir: I understand Councilor. Is there anything more you can tell me?
>Tevos: Only one thing. A name, or a title, perhaps both. Light-Drinker.
>Vasir: Not much to go on. All right, where do I go to meet up with Shepard and these others?
>Tevos: You're going to the neutral meeting point of the United Compact, the space station Babylon 5. I've already made arrangements for you to receive a berth on a flight heading there. Don't be late.
>Vasir: Understood. I'll speak to you at the mandatory check-in if Shepard doesn't do it first.
Assessment:
Decrypted email contains tasking orders, an electronic ticket for a luxury express flight to Babylon 5, Council authorisation codes for access to a discretionary operations budget, and permission to access experimental and prototype weaponry.
Orders contain references to Fallen movements. Network assessment provides an updated estimate of current Fallen numbers in The Anvil to be eighteen million and rising. Network traffic has indicated that Guardians have been seen in The Anvil, with high probability that they are investigating Fallen activity.
Investigation into title 'Light-Drinker' by Network has revealed Fallen legend, maintained across disparate communities with zero point two percent deviance in details. All deviations stem from true gender of Light-Drinker. Conjecture that Light-Drinker is a messianic figure similar to human religious icon 'Christ'.
Course Of Action:
All data points deemed profitable and exploitable. Data will be collated into briefing file for Shadow Broker.
>Tela Vasir: Councilor, what can I do for you?
>Councilor Tevos: I will be blunt, Vasir. STG, Alliance Naval Intelligence, Hierarchy Firewatch and even the Office Of Naval Intelligence of our vaunted 'United Compact' allies have found no information concerning these 'Fallen' converging on the Anvil from just about every known galaxy. That is a number that we can at least accurately estimate as being in the hundreds of thousands, possibly millions.
>Vasir: So a race of wandering pirates and mercs only marginally better off than the Quarians are gathering in the one galaxy that happens to be one massive Free Fire Zone. In my personal opinion, let them, it'll mean less chance of people getting melted down into that Ether stuff of theirs.
>Tevos: And if I went on to tell you that they have done nothing? No raiding, no mercenary contracts, the Fallen converging on the Anvil simply vanish and are never seen again?
>Vasir: My opinion would not change. Granted, they could be planning something big, but the Anvil is a total warzone where planets trade hands every standard year, I wouldn't be surprised if they're doing a territory grab before the Compact or the Covenant move in and crush them.
>Tevos: And what would you say to a mere six million Fallen holding a strategic, resource rich cluster of approximately twenty-two star systems, each of them with habitable Garden worlds due to Precursor interference, from both Compact and Covenant forces ranging in the billions?
>Vasir: I'd call you a liar to your face, Councilor.
>Tevos: Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to deny that small pleasure to you Vasir. A data-packet is being sent to you in a secure email. Read it, memorize your orders, and then scrub it from your Omnitool. After that, you are to meet with SPECTRE Lilith Shepard and her team along with a Compact Special Forces unit and proceed to the Anvil.
Intercepting Secure Email. Interception and download successful. Passing email to recipient.
>Vasir: I understand Councilor. Is there anything more you can tell me?
>Tevos: Only one thing. A name, or a title, perhaps both. Light-Drinker.
>Vasir: Not much to go on. All right, where do I go to meet up with Shepard and these others?
>Tevos: You're going to the neutral meeting point of the United Compact, the space station Babylon 5. I've already made arrangements for you to receive a berth on a flight heading there. Don't be late.
>Vasir: Understood. I'll speak to you at the mandatory check-in if Shepard doesn't do it first.
Assessment:
Decrypted email contains tasking orders, an electronic ticket for a luxury express flight to Babylon 5, Council authorisation codes for access to a discretionary operations budget, and permission to access experimental and prototype weaponry.
Orders contain references to Fallen movements. Network assessment provides an updated estimate of current Fallen numbers in The Anvil to be eighteen million and rising. Network traffic has indicated that Guardians have been seen in The Anvil, with high probability that they are investigating Fallen activity.
Investigation into title 'Light-Drinker' by Network has revealed Fallen legend, maintained across disparate communities with zero point two percent deviance in details. All deviations stem from true gender of Light-Drinker. Conjecture that Light-Drinker is a messianic figure similar to human religious icon 'Christ'.
Course Of Action:
All data points deemed profitable and exploitable. Data will be collated into briefing file for Shadow Broker.
Last edited:
Ardion Prosili
An (im)Perfect Cell
Hmmm, very very interesting. Let's see how this goes...
- Location
- Tel'aran'rhiod
Seems cool, though I lost count of all the crossovers
Guardsman_Sparky
The Clueless Wonder
- Location
- Virginia
I like this. One question though, where can I find Far Flung Hope? If it's anything like your story so far, I think I'll enjoy it too.
Guardsman_Sparky
The Clueless Wonder
- Location
- Virginia
yay! Thanks!!
Awakening
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
She awoke with a gasp of air through her un-masked mouth, eyes frantically searching for the foe that had slain her, but when she saw that she was alone in the jungle she had fought her opponent in she breathed a sigh of relief, "It's gone."
"In a manner of speaking." Her eyes whipped up at the voice coming from above her and she found herself regarding the glowing optical core of a black and purple sphere, "I honestly didn't think you'd wake up, considering how Ether-starved your body was." She blinked at the words coming from the sphere before she managed to reassert her composure.
"A servitor. Holy machine, how is it that you speak?" The Servitors, the god-machines of her people, they only spoke in their own language that only the Archons were trained to interpret, so how was this one speaking to her and how could she understand it. Watching as it floated down to be eye-level with her, she was about to repeat her question when the Servitor hummed.
"In a way, I am a Servitor, and in a way I am not. I once was Human, you know?" Her eyes narrowed at the words, and its mannerisms clicked before it continued, "And then I woke up, in this new body, new life, and found myself with a mission."
She maintained her suspicious stare, "Then why are you here? Humans tend to do their own thing after all." That was true; apart from the big events, many Humans she had encountered in her long life focused only on their own goals and missions, so why would this human have waited for her to wake up?
"True, I am on a mission of my own, but now that you're awake that part of the mission is complete!" The...could she still this being a human? Best to go with that, lest she inadvertently insult actual Servitors with her words and thoughts, "And I must say, you were a tricky one to wake up."
She frowned, "Why is that?" How long had she been unconscious? And where was the creature that had hunted her through this jungle? She remembered cutting it open and removing its hands, so where was the body? "No, never mind. Where am I human? Where is my equipment?"
"Gone," the Human replied simply, "Looted from your body I think. But I was able to find a Shock Knife and Pistol that the looters hadn't managed to steal from you. As part of my new body, and duties, I can maintain their ammunition supply. As for your armour, that too was looted from you while you were...incapacitated. Honestly, if it wasn't for me you'd st...you'd be dead by now." It floated closer and in a brief glow a Shock Knife and Shock Pistol dropped to the ground, weapons she recognized as being the same weapons she had carried since she was a Dreg.
Picking them up and finding full charge on them both, she nodded her thanks, "What can you do for armour? Ether?" Another glow and a full set of proper Baron armour, albeit very basic and simplistic-looking, appeared on the ground and she quickly dressed; the Servitor had to have been forced to use local resources to build the armour, but some protection was better than nothing.
Hooking up the feeder supply, she was about to ask about the Ether again when it activated and she was finally able to ingest a deep serving of the precious life-energy as she felt her hunger abate and strength begin to seep back into her, "Thank you human. As a boon, I grant you permission to give me your name."
"Hm, gracious of you." The human-turned-Servitor chuckled before bobbing in an affectation of a bow, "Call me Gideon. Now then, I believe I saw a settlement nearby, they could have information that you could find useful. In the meantime I will be processing local materials into Glimmer for trade as well as monitoring you medically." At her glance the human chuckled again, "You've been out of action for...a while. I can't let my first attempt to save a life go to waste simply because I missed something that could be as simple as hunger or physical weakness."
She snorted, "As you say, but I cannot protect you as well as ensure my own survival-" The Servitor suddenly wrapped itself in a shimmering veil before it vanished entirely, "What trick is this?!"
"No trick. Simply a matter of utilizing acausal physics to conceal my presence. I shall be here, even if you cannot see me, and like this only you can hear my words." The human replied with a reasonable tone in his voice as she shook her head and began trudging through the jungle, following a waypoint marker the human had placed on her HUD, "If you survive long enough, I'll show you a few other tricks. But yes, please look after your own survival, I can take care of myself."
She nodded, idly span her weapons, and began heading through the jungle, the human in Servitor form following after her in concealing veils of acasual reality while it quietly maintained its passive scans on the Fallen female. Internally, the intelligence calling itself Gideon regarded the female with a thoughtful eye.
'Hmm, the psycho-historical reconstructions indicated that this one may have the potential...but is potential enough? Damn that ASB for dumping me in this situation. Still..." The sphere ghosted through a group of trees without really noticing them, 'Is this the one? I've spent a long...long time searching for one that fulfilled the criteria not just from the ASB, but from that damn Traveler as well."
Watching as the Fallen pressed on through the undergrowth, slashing away with the Arc Knife to leave a trail of smoking plants in her wake, Gideon shrugged internally and continued following after the Fallen while also conducting a weapons check of his own defensive/offensive systems.
'Exactly how does a quantum communication system becomes a damn cannon is something I know I'm not smart enough to understand but I am damn glad I can pull off. Might need it to...'
After all, he hadn't informed the Fallen Baron he was following just what village she was heading towards; a village that had only recently been established and at the behest of the villager's more powerful masters. But it was necessary; the protocols said that the candidate had to be tested, and not in the Aperture Science manner either, so that meant putting his charge as it were into harms way.
Besides, it was only a Goa'uld slave mining operation with minimal Covenant support. Against a Fallen Baron even with minimal armaments?
Gideon wondered if it would even count as a warmup.
The 'village' was less a collection of homes and more like a pigsty of mud houses surrounding an open-pit mine while in turn surrounded by a wall and fortified buildings. A slight shifting of air told her that the human had made himself visible.
"Hmm, perhaps I was hasty in calling this a village but I was in a hurry really. Well, perhaps the masters of this place can give you some information?" With that, the human vanished again and she shrugged before trudging across the open ground towards what looked like the most important of the buildings that were part of the wall surrounding the slave camp along with the main gate.
Noticing the lack of guards, she paused at the gates before giving it a series of hard knocks with one of her primary hands, an audio channel appearing on her HUD as the human apparently began listening in.
"What in the name of the Gods?"
"There's someone at the gates, but the next shipment of slaves isn't supposed to be here for another week? Have we been discovered?"
"Enough! Jaffa, arm yourselves. I shall investigate this personally!"
"Understood!"
She snorted as the audio channel closed, "Goa'uld. No challenge." Despite their symbiotes, they were mere humans after all.
"Glad you think so, but be on guard nonetheless." The human's caution spoke in her mind as she holstered her weapons and presented a look of hopefully non-hostility as a section of the gate slid to the side to reveal a pair of eyes glaring at her.
"Ugh, Fallen. Why have you come here pirate?" She refrained from insulting the worm-breeder and spread her hands, all four of them, to show she was unarmed.
"I require transportation. Once I have it, I will leave." She tried to send a mental command to the human to be alert.
The human spoke in her mind as soon as she made the command in her mind, "Scanning the camp now. Hmm, they're setting up a heavy weapon, and I see Jaffa carrying chains and ropes. Looks they want an Eliksini for their camp." She twitched in surprise, "Shocked? I was educated on a few things, like what the Fallen call themselves. In any case..."
The gate opened and a robed man with a golden mark on his head regarded her with a smile, "Please, enter. However..." Jaffa swarmed from hiding places and aimed their staves at her while in the back a large cannon was being wheeled into position as the Jaffa's smile widened, "You will not be leaving here. I believe that a Fallen of your...stature will prove to be a hard and productive worker.
"Your choice. Fight or Surrender? Or rather: Fight, or Plot?"
She held up her primary arms while crossing her secondaries, "Hmph, you'll find me a poor slave Jaffa, and an enemy you shall soon regret making." As the ropes and chains were secured around her four arms and she was pulled closer, the leader of these weaklings was about to say something. That was when her head snapped down and she heard more than felt the human's nose cave inwards as the man fell.
She had just enough time to laugh before the stun-shot knocked her unconscious.
She woke up on the ground, chains and ropes gone but her armour and weapons still hidden and secure. She smiled behind her mask as she inhaled more Ether and slowly got to her feet; this was clearly a place where the least capable of Jaffa were sent to watch the slaves, and that meant they did not know of the many, many tricks an Eliksini had at their disposal to conceal a weapon.
"Not often a Fallen just walks into slavery, even with that headbutt as a final statement." A tired but amused voice sounded next to her in the darkness and in the dim light of a lantern a strange humanoid with tails instead of hair appeared, face and body both ravaged by age and overwork, Twi'lek she believed the name was, "Still, you are here, and here you will stay unfortunately."
Snorting, she pulled out her Shock Knife and Arc Pistol, twirling the gun in a primary hand as her secondaries played with the knife, "For weaklings, like you, yes. For me, I am going to take their ship."
"Oh good, you're awake. Again. I've taken the liberty of finding their vessel. Hardly a suitable craft, but it should serve your purposes well." She sent a thought of thanks to the human speaking in her mind while the old Twi'lek blinked with wide eyes at her weapons before she regarded the old Twi'lek male through masked eyes.
"In a manner of speaking." Her eyes whipped up at the voice coming from above her and she found herself regarding the glowing optical core of a black and purple sphere, "I honestly didn't think you'd wake up, considering how Ether-starved your body was." She blinked at the words coming from the sphere before she managed to reassert her composure.
"A servitor. Holy machine, how is it that you speak?" The Servitors, the god-machines of her people, they only spoke in their own language that only the Archons were trained to interpret, so how was this one speaking to her and how could she understand it. Watching as it floated down to be eye-level with her, she was about to repeat her question when the Servitor hummed.
"In a way, I am a Servitor, and in a way I am not. I once was Human, you know?" Her eyes narrowed at the words, and its mannerisms clicked before it continued, "And then I woke up, in this new body, new life, and found myself with a mission."
She maintained her suspicious stare, "Then why are you here? Humans tend to do their own thing after all." That was true; apart from the big events, many Humans she had encountered in her long life focused only on their own goals and missions, so why would this human have waited for her to wake up?
"True, I am on a mission of my own, but now that you're awake that part of the mission is complete!" The...could she still this being a human? Best to go with that, lest she inadvertently insult actual Servitors with her words and thoughts, "And I must say, you were a tricky one to wake up."
She frowned, "Why is that?" How long had she been unconscious? And where was the creature that had hunted her through this jungle? She remembered cutting it open and removing its hands, so where was the body? "No, never mind. Where am I human? Where is my equipment?"
"Gone," the Human replied simply, "Looted from your body I think. But I was able to find a Shock Knife and Pistol that the looters hadn't managed to steal from you. As part of my new body, and duties, I can maintain their ammunition supply. As for your armour, that too was looted from you while you were...incapacitated. Honestly, if it wasn't for me you'd st...you'd be dead by now." It floated closer and in a brief glow a Shock Knife and Shock Pistol dropped to the ground, weapons she recognized as being the same weapons she had carried since she was a Dreg.
Picking them up and finding full charge on them both, she nodded her thanks, "What can you do for armour? Ether?" Another glow and a full set of proper Baron armour, albeit very basic and simplistic-looking, appeared on the ground and she quickly dressed; the Servitor had to have been forced to use local resources to build the armour, but some protection was better than nothing.
Hooking up the feeder supply, she was about to ask about the Ether again when it activated and she was finally able to ingest a deep serving of the precious life-energy as she felt her hunger abate and strength begin to seep back into her, "Thank you human. As a boon, I grant you permission to give me your name."
"Hm, gracious of you." The human-turned-Servitor chuckled before bobbing in an affectation of a bow, "Call me Gideon. Now then, I believe I saw a settlement nearby, they could have information that you could find useful. In the meantime I will be processing local materials into Glimmer for trade as well as monitoring you medically." At her glance the human chuckled again, "You've been out of action for...a while. I can't let my first attempt to save a life go to waste simply because I missed something that could be as simple as hunger or physical weakness."
She snorted, "As you say, but I cannot protect you as well as ensure my own survival-" The Servitor suddenly wrapped itself in a shimmering veil before it vanished entirely, "What trick is this?!"
"No trick. Simply a matter of utilizing acausal physics to conceal my presence. I shall be here, even if you cannot see me, and like this only you can hear my words." The human replied with a reasonable tone in his voice as she shook her head and began trudging through the jungle, following a waypoint marker the human had placed on her HUD, "If you survive long enough, I'll show you a few other tricks. But yes, please look after your own survival, I can take care of myself."
She nodded, idly span her weapons, and began heading through the jungle, the human in Servitor form following after her in concealing veils of acasual reality while it quietly maintained its passive scans on the Fallen female. Internally, the intelligence calling itself Gideon regarded the female with a thoughtful eye.
'Hmm, the psycho-historical reconstructions indicated that this one may have the potential...but is potential enough? Damn that ASB for dumping me in this situation. Still..." The sphere ghosted through a group of trees without really noticing them, 'Is this the one? I've spent a long...long time searching for one that fulfilled the criteria not just from the ASB, but from that damn Traveler as well."
Watching as the Fallen pressed on through the undergrowth, slashing away with the Arc Knife to leave a trail of smoking plants in her wake, Gideon shrugged internally and continued following after the Fallen while also conducting a weapons check of his own defensive/offensive systems.
'Exactly how does a quantum communication system becomes a damn cannon is something I know I'm not smart enough to understand but I am damn glad I can pull off. Might need it to...'
After all, he hadn't informed the Fallen Baron he was following just what village she was heading towards; a village that had only recently been established and at the behest of the villager's more powerful masters. But it was necessary; the protocols said that the candidate had to be tested, and not in the Aperture Science manner either, so that meant putting his charge as it were into harms way.
Besides, it was only a Goa'uld slave mining operation with minimal Covenant support. Against a Fallen Baron even with minimal armaments?
Gideon wondered if it would even count as a warmup.
***
The 'village' was less a collection of homes and more like a pigsty of mud houses surrounding an open-pit mine while in turn surrounded by a wall and fortified buildings. A slight shifting of air told her that the human had made himself visible.
"Hmm, perhaps I was hasty in calling this a village but I was in a hurry really. Well, perhaps the masters of this place can give you some information?" With that, the human vanished again and she shrugged before trudging across the open ground towards what looked like the most important of the buildings that were part of the wall surrounding the slave camp along with the main gate.
Noticing the lack of guards, she paused at the gates before giving it a series of hard knocks with one of her primary hands, an audio channel appearing on her HUD as the human apparently began listening in.
"What in the name of the Gods?"
"There's someone at the gates, but the next shipment of slaves isn't supposed to be here for another week? Have we been discovered?"
"Enough! Jaffa, arm yourselves. I shall investigate this personally!"
"Understood!"
She snorted as the audio channel closed, "Goa'uld. No challenge." Despite their symbiotes, they were mere humans after all.
"Glad you think so, but be on guard nonetheless." The human's caution spoke in her mind as she holstered her weapons and presented a look of hopefully non-hostility as a section of the gate slid to the side to reveal a pair of eyes glaring at her.
"Ugh, Fallen. Why have you come here pirate?" She refrained from insulting the worm-breeder and spread her hands, all four of them, to show she was unarmed.
"I require transportation. Once I have it, I will leave." She tried to send a mental command to the human to be alert.
The human spoke in her mind as soon as she made the command in her mind, "Scanning the camp now. Hmm, they're setting up a heavy weapon, and I see Jaffa carrying chains and ropes. Looks they want an Eliksini for their camp." She twitched in surprise, "Shocked? I was educated on a few things, like what the Fallen call themselves. In any case..."
The gate opened and a robed man with a golden mark on his head regarded her with a smile, "Please, enter. However..." Jaffa swarmed from hiding places and aimed their staves at her while in the back a large cannon was being wheeled into position as the Jaffa's smile widened, "You will not be leaving here. I believe that a Fallen of your...stature will prove to be a hard and productive worker.
"Your choice. Fight or Surrender? Or rather: Fight, or Plot?"
She held up her primary arms while crossing her secondaries, "Hmph, you'll find me a poor slave Jaffa, and an enemy you shall soon regret making." As the ropes and chains were secured around her four arms and she was pulled closer, the leader of these weaklings was about to say something. That was when her head snapped down and she heard more than felt the human's nose cave inwards as the man fell.
She had just enough time to laugh before the stun-shot knocked her unconscious.
***
She woke up on the ground, chains and ropes gone but her armour and weapons still hidden and secure. She smiled behind her mask as she inhaled more Ether and slowly got to her feet; this was clearly a place where the least capable of Jaffa were sent to watch the slaves, and that meant they did not know of the many, many tricks an Eliksini had at their disposal to conceal a weapon.
"Not often a Fallen just walks into slavery, even with that headbutt as a final statement." A tired but amused voice sounded next to her in the darkness and in the dim light of a lantern a strange humanoid with tails instead of hair appeared, face and body both ravaged by age and overwork, Twi'lek she believed the name was, "Still, you are here, and here you will stay unfortunately."
Snorting, she pulled out her Shock Knife and Arc Pistol, twirling the gun in a primary hand as her secondaries played with the knife, "For weaklings, like you, yes. For me, I am going to take their ship."
"Oh good, you're awake. Again. I've taken the liberty of finding their vessel. Hardly a suitable craft, but it should serve your purposes well." She sent a thought of thanks to the human speaking in her mind while the old Twi'lek blinked with wide eyes at her weapons before she regarded the old Twi'lek male through masked eyes.
"Do not get in my way."
Communication Log 1: ONI Intruder
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Playback of File DXC-909812A-S:
>Prophet Of Regret: How? How is it possible for our Empire to be losing against these...these insects?!
>Prophet Of Mercy: Calm yourself. We are not losing, we are merely being delayed and in ti-
>Regret: We are losing sixteen Sector Armies a year to these pirates! Millions of soldiers slain by mere thousands and you call this a delay? We aren't even certain they're even taking casualties in any great numbers. I have reports. Accurate ones! Stating that we are losing at least a hundred Sangheili and Jiralhanae just to kill one of these Fallen.
>Mercy: It is regrettable, but the Fallen only exist in a few million in terms of numbers, and our Empire is more than capable of absorbing the loss of a few armies to ensure eventual victory.
>Regret: Then why not glass those worlds then?
>Prophet Of Truth: Because it is more than the resources, it is the living space. If our war against the UNSC and their pitiful 'United Compact Of Sentients' is to be won and the Great Journey finally embarked, we need to continue dealing with issues of population growth. That is why these worlds have not been cleansed by plasma fire.
>Regret: But our armies are better equipped! We have at least three Crusades numbering billions bearing down on them and they are fighting off the expansion of the United Compact as well! How have we not crushed them under sheer weight of numbers by now?
>Truth: You will be calm, or I will have you removed from these chambers until you are calm.
[Exactly three minutes of silence.]
Truth: Good. Even so, your...concerns have pertinence. Grandmaster, a full Strike Battalion of your Crusaders have been deployed. Surely your forces have met with more success?
Grandmaster Of The Crusaders: Our forces have met with increased success against these Fallen that so far confounded the Children. But I regret to inform you that we too have taken notable casualties from these pirates.
Mercy: Oh my.
Regret: WHAT?
Truth: Continue, Grandmaster.
Grandmaster: These pirates, these Fallen, our Light does not harm them as readily as it does the Demons of the United Compact. If anything it requires a Crusader to nearly exhaust themselves just to slay one with our Light as anything less merely invigorates them. No, it heals them and that has forced us to use other powers. Because of this, we have lost forty members of the Order Of Cleansing Light and have been forced to send the rest back and rotate in members of the Order Of Purgation, as their powers have proven more effective.
Truth: And what do you make of the rumors that the Fallen have Demons of their own? Of the tales of their leader being a so-called 'Light Drinker' that can drain the holy Light from Crusaders with a mere glance?
Grandmaster: It is all true.
[Silence for eight minutes. Highest Probability: Shock]
Truth: I see...and you have evidence?
[Grandmaster inserts Covenant-standard data crystal into central display dias. Data intercepted and downloaded.]
Regret: What...is this? Are these Fallen?
Grandmaster: Yes. But they command Light as well. We have interrogated Human, Tau and Eldar prisoners and secured information from Machine databases and have discovered their designation within their alliance, their 'Hexumvirate'. They are called 'The Imbued' and are considered by the Hexumvirate to be on par with the Compact's Demons and our own Crusaders.
Mercy: And what has made them so...formidable?
Grandmaster: I...It appears that they are infused with Light, and because of that they are immune to the majority of my Crusader's powers and are highly resistant to the Demons and their 'Force' trickery.
Regret: IMPOSSIBLE! You said that the Light was yours and yours alone to command!
Truth: Indeed, and if this information was ever exposed to the Compact they might attempt to find a way to graft this holy power onto their Demons.
Grandmaster: Most Gracious And Wise Prophets, the depths of our shame at mere pirates and mercenaries possessing our holy powers...this humiliation has cut deeply into our Orders and the Clans that are a part of them. It cannot stand!
Truth: No, it cannot.
High Priest Of The Order Of The One God: Then perhaps it is time for my Order and its allies to step in Grandmaster. Clearly, you are in no better position to defeat the Fallen than the rest of the Covenant.
Grandmaster: Are you?
High Priest: Yes. In fact, our forces, as well as that of our allies are already moving to snuff out this troublesome font of unneeded Light.
Assessment:
The Covenant Empire is facing the same difficulties in absorbing the Hexumvirate territories as the United Compact forces. ONI estimations of casualties suffered by the Covenant are in line with intelligence gathered.
Presence of Fallen 'Imbued' and the resistance to near-immunity to the Crusader Order's so-called Cleansing Light as well as Fallen leader's appellation of 'Light Drinker' indicate that the unknown energy used by the faction known as The City and the Precursor object classified as 'The Traveler' is a quantifiable and attainable state of being that is not unique to the Covenant.
Recommendations:
Increase in black operations to acquire a Fallen Imbued as well as increasing diplomatic relations with The City will be vital to understanding the makeup of Light and how the Fallen are able to harness this energy.
>Prophet Of Regret: How? How is it possible for our Empire to be losing against these...these insects?!
>Prophet Of Mercy: Calm yourself. We are not losing, we are merely being delayed and in ti-
>Regret: We are losing sixteen Sector Armies a year to these pirates! Millions of soldiers slain by mere thousands and you call this a delay? We aren't even certain they're even taking casualties in any great numbers. I have reports. Accurate ones! Stating that we are losing at least a hundred Sangheili and Jiralhanae just to kill one of these Fallen.
>Mercy: It is regrettable, but the Fallen only exist in a few million in terms of numbers, and our Empire is more than capable of absorbing the loss of a few armies to ensure eventual victory.
>Regret: Then why not glass those worlds then?
>Prophet Of Truth: Because it is more than the resources, it is the living space. If our war against the UNSC and their pitiful 'United Compact Of Sentients' is to be won and the Great Journey finally embarked, we need to continue dealing with issues of population growth. That is why these worlds have not been cleansed by plasma fire.
>Regret: But our armies are better equipped! We have at least three Crusades numbering billions bearing down on them and they are fighting off the expansion of the United Compact as well! How have we not crushed them under sheer weight of numbers by now?
>Truth: You will be calm, or I will have you removed from these chambers until you are calm.
[Exactly three minutes of silence.]
Truth: Good. Even so, your...concerns have pertinence. Grandmaster, a full Strike Battalion of your Crusaders have been deployed. Surely your forces have met with more success?
Grandmaster Of The Crusaders: Our forces have met with increased success against these Fallen that so far confounded the Children. But I regret to inform you that we too have taken notable casualties from these pirates.
Mercy: Oh my.
Regret: WHAT?
Truth: Continue, Grandmaster.
Grandmaster: These pirates, these Fallen, our Light does not harm them as readily as it does the Demons of the United Compact. If anything it requires a Crusader to nearly exhaust themselves just to slay one with our Light as anything less merely invigorates them. No, it heals them and that has forced us to use other powers. Because of this, we have lost forty members of the Order Of Cleansing Light and have been forced to send the rest back and rotate in members of the Order Of Purgation, as their powers have proven more effective.
Truth: And what do you make of the rumors that the Fallen have Demons of their own? Of the tales of their leader being a so-called 'Light Drinker' that can drain the holy Light from Crusaders with a mere glance?
Grandmaster: It is all true.
[Silence for eight minutes. Highest Probability: Shock]
Truth: I see...and you have evidence?
[Grandmaster inserts Covenant-standard data crystal into central display dias. Data intercepted and downloaded.]
Regret: What...is this? Are these Fallen?
Grandmaster: Yes. But they command Light as well. We have interrogated Human, Tau and Eldar prisoners and secured information from Machine databases and have discovered their designation within their alliance, their 'Hexumvirate'. They are called 'The Imbued' and are considered by the Hexumvirate to be on par with the Compact's Demons and our own Crusaders.
Mercy: And what has made them so...formidable?
Grandmaster: I...It appears that they are infused with Light, and because of that they are immune to the majority of my Crusader's powers and are highly resistant to the Demons and their 'Force' trickery.
Regret: IMPOSSIBLE! You said that the Light was yours and yours alone to command!
Truth: Indeed, and if this information was ever exposed to the Compact they might attempt to find a way to graft this holy power onto their Demons.
Grandmaster: Most Gracious And Wise Prophets, the depths of our shame at mere pirates and mercenaries possessing our holy powers...this humiliation has cut deeply into our Orders and the Clans that are a part of them. It cannot stand!
Truth: No, it cannot.
High Priest Of The Order Of The One God: Then perhaps it is time for my Order and its allies to step in Grandmaster. Clearly, you are in no better position to defeat the Fallen than the rest of the Covenant.
Grandmaster: Are you?
High Priest: Yes. In fact, our forces, as well as that of our allies are already moving to snuff out this troublesome font of unneeded Light.
Assessment:
The Covenant Empire is facing the same difficulties in absorbing the Hexumvirate territories as the United Compact forces. ONI estimations of casualties suffered by the Covenant are in line with intelligence gathered.
Presence of Fallen 'Imbued' and the resistance to near-immunity to the Crusader Order's so-called Cleansing Light as well as Fallen leader's appellation of 'Light Drinker' indicate that the unknown energy used by the faction known as The City and the Precursor object classified as 'The Traveler' is a quantifiable and attainable state of being that is not unique to the Covenant.
Recommendations:
Increase in black operations to acquire a Fallen Imbued as well as increasing diplomatic relations with The City will be vital to understanding the makeup of Light and how the Fallen are able to harness this energy.
Older-than-Time
[Eating My Muse]
- Location
- Somewhere in the Sol System
- Pronouns
- He/Him/ThatIdiot
*sees title and crossover*
Huzzah! Another Destiny fic!
*notices first line*
Thanks for crediting me!
I love what you've done so far. It's all week thought out and its hard to guess where you're going with this.
And I see you're a Fallen fan like myself!
Huzzah! Another Destiny fic!
*notices first line*
Thanks for crediting me!
I love what you've done so far. It's all week thought out and its hard to guess where you're going with this.
And I see you're a Fallen fan like myself!
Escape and Revelation
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Fallen Barons were at the opposite end of the Fallen size spectrum, being nearly seven feet tall and capable of throwing a grown human male through plate glass. What intrigued the intelligence inside the Servitor was just how quiet one of them could be when on the move; the female Fallen had expertly broken the simple lock on the door to the slave quarters and was already climbing to a higher position, expertly grasping handholds with her four arms and flexible toes.
The lone Jaffa patrolling the Slave Quarter didn't even know he was passing underneath several hundred kilograms of cunningly cruel alien until a secondary arm wielding the Shock Knife plunged the inactive blade into the woman's neck before jerking roughly to the side and slicing her neck open to spurt blood into the air, splattering across a wall and the ground.
Dropping lightly to the ground, the Fallen calmly removed the Jaffa's Zat'nikal before tossing the body onto a roof and resumed climbing and traversing the rooftops, making her way to the pad where she could see a Tel'tak landed with Jaffa off-loading supplies. Nodding in satisfaction at her exit strategy, the Baron began making her way across the rooftops towards the most heavily-decorated building.
She grimaced behind her mask as she ingested another rationed amount of Ether before her HUD beeped as the supply was increased by the not-Servitor who appeared in a glimmer of un-light.
"That ship is hyperdrive capable." It murmured out loud, "Good. I'm already sick of this rock."
"I cannot leave yet," The Baron muttered, twirling her knife, not until I repay the insult given to me by that fool." The human twisted slightly, just enough that she could tell that the angle of his optic was meant to be a glance to the side and she explained, "I will not leave until I have his head for daring to enslave a Fallen."
The human chuckled, "As you wish." Vanishing in shrouds of Void energy, the human spoke in her mind once more, "He's asleep. Drunk as well. He should be an easy kill." Nodding, the Baron began hopping across the rooftops and climbing up walls, easily finding hand-holds in the mud and brick buildings while with a single stroke of her inactive Shock Knife, lone Jaffa found themselves lying gurgling on the ground through large jagged slashes in their necks.
It was as she was starting to climb up the gold-covered building where the master of the camp made his residence that she heard voices, "How long until the rest of the supplies are unloaded?" Peering around a corner, the Baron watched a pair of Jaffa gossiping with their staff-weapons being used to lean on.
"Not long, another hour or so. Mera managed to smuggle some of the commander's order of wine out, enough for everyone." The Baron rolled her eyes and resumed climbing. Useless gossip spouted by distracted guards; they'd wish she had killed them when the truth of her escape was uncovered.
The commander's quarters were lavish and utterly at odds with what she had seen of the rest of the slave camp, but she didn't care for the remains of what used to be a sumptuous feast as well as empty bottles of fine wine that based on the smell came from the planet of those strange animal people. What was the name again? Salusians?
"Salusians? Huh, interesting. Stop wasting time and get to it." The human snapped and the Baron grimaced before approaching the bed where the commander of the slave camp was sleeping, helmet scanners ensuring that she had the right target before with a twitch of her thumb the Shock Knife sparked to life as the Baron drew closer and raised the blade above the snoring man's head.
The first sign that any of the Jaffa had that something was wrong was the moment the Staff Cannon mounted on the roof of the commander's quarters suddenly opened fire, bolts of plasma fire slamming into Jaffa as they yelled in confusion, some returning fire before plasma blasts stitched into them, tearing smoking holes through their bodies before focusing on the guard towers and the Staff Cannons being clumsily turned towards the firer.
Even as the first return shots began to strike the commander's quarters, the higher vantage point of the Staff Cannon controlled by the mysterious attacker meant that the majority of the shots slammed harmlessly into the building while those that didn't came nowhere near the Cannon as it aimed at the guard posts and opened fire.
Down in the slave quarters, the slaves looked out of windows and watched in awe as plasma bolts smashed into a guard tower, the sizzling super-heated projectile penetrating the Naquadah chamber and detonating it in a thundering blast that shattered the tower down to the very base, throwing up dust as it began to collapse.
"Get some men up there! Now!" A Jaffa shouted to his subordinates, "Whoever is attacking us will pay dearly for this!" As a group of Jaffa ran towards the building, the one commanding them turned to the rest, "Firing lines! Bring the entire wall down if you have to!" Immediately, rows of Jaffa aimed their unwieldy weapons and immediately began peppering the building with plasma fire as another tower went up in a cloud of dust and debris as the Naquadah core in the Staff Cannon detonated in another explosion that lit up the night sky.
Unbeknownst to everyone involved in the fighting, save for the one operating the Staff Cannon and busy raining death down on the entrenched Jaffa, a dark shape flitted across the rooftops and in the shadows towards the Tel'tak on the landing pad, another tower exploding briefly illuminating the shape to reveal the Baron as she approached the rear door of the transport.
Up above the impending starship theft, the commandeered Staff Cannon was now starting to take fire from the barrage of staff fire from the ground as the remaining guard towers recovered enough to add their firepower even as another detonated in a flash of superheated plasma, shattering the tower in a plume of smoke and dust, showering pieces rubble across the slave camp as one airborne fragment the size of a man struck a group of Jaffa arranged in ranks and tore through them.
Pieces of stone, mortar and bodies flew through the air as the rubble piece split men and women in half and crushed others to paste, leaving long red stains of gore along the ground and splashed across walls before the piece of stone rolled to a stop, crashing through a wall of a building in the process.
The last guard tower's gunner lost his nerve at the sight, trying to flee the tower, but his fate was the same as the others another unerringly accurate shot turned the last tower into a smoking ruin, the detonation of the Staff Cannon in the guard tower managing to avoid simply leveling it like the others, but that was enough to send more burning shrapnel raining down and temporarily break the morale of the defenders.
As Jaffa ran for cover from the cannon, the group of Jaffa that had been sent to capture the gun managed to smash their way onto the rooftop; their path had been impeded by clever traps and barricades made of furniture meant to slow them down, but rather than finding an escaped slave or some lone adventurer, the group of warrior encountered an unmanned Staff Cannon.
"What trickery is this?" One of them muttered as they cautiously approached the weapon, finding no footprints in the dust, nor any signs that anyone had even been present. Drawing closer, the one who spoke noticed something glowing near the weapon's controls; the controls in question had been heavily modified, to the point that the Jaffa doubted anyone could use the weapon effectively again, but there was still something glowing there.
"What in the gods?" The Jaffa carefully peered into the mess of wires and crystals, until he saw it. A vial of liquid Naquadah, fastened into a circuit.
Eyes wide, the warrior turned to attempt a warning when the electronic timer buried in the weapon ticked to zero.
Inside the Tel'tak, the explosion of the last Staff Cannon lighting up the sky, the Baron smiled a cruel smile as she took off.
The work she and the human had accomplished was plainly visible; the guard towers were leveled, the Staff Cannons were destroyed and enough of the Jaffa garrison had been killed off by the explosions and cannon fire that even the weak rabble that were the slaves would be able to overwhelm them and vanish into the jungle.
Inside the stolen Tel'tak, while powering up the hyperdrive, the Baron turned to the human in the form of a Servitor, "So, are you satisfied with my performance?"
The human hummed lightly to himself and the Baron felt that he was smiling, "I suppose that I am. It's good that you were clever enough to recognize that I was testing you, saves me having to admit to the fact. Well now, I suppose that it should now be time to tell you the truth."
The Baron nodded as she made the final adjustments to her course and in a brief flash the hyperdrive kicked in and the craft was on its way, "Yes, it would be a fine time now. So tell me human, why are you in the form of a Servitor and why were you testing me? If I do not like your answer, I will toss you out into Hyperspace."
The human chuckled, "Tell me, Eliksini, what is the most important aspect of The Traveler?" Before the Baron could answer, the human continued, "We both know the answer. Light. The Traveler is important because it is Light. All that is good, noble and righteous, the Traveler is a literal avatar of it all. And where there is the Traveler, there is the Whirlwind, the Darkness."
The Baron's eyes narrowed, "Get to the point human, what is your role in this? What link do you have to the Great Machine?"
The human chuckled again, "Link? My link is to act as a Conduit, for the source of all that Light. As to why I tested you? Simple, I was told to find an Eliksini who was worthy to fulfill an ancient legend of your kind. And so far, you are the best out of the few that I've found over the centuries."
"Centuries? Speak plainly human, what do you mean?" There was a cold, sinking feeling in her gut, but the Baron had to know.
The human floated close, optic shifting, "Is it not obvious? You were dead, Baron. I brought you back to test you. And you've been dead for a long time. I would say...about seven-hundred years."
The lone Jaffa patrolling the Slave Quarter didn't even know he was passing underneath several hundred kilograms of cunningly cruel alien until a secondary arm wielding the Shock Knife plunged the inactive blade into the woman's neck before jerking roughly to the side and slicing her neck open to spurt blood into the air, splattering across a wall and the ground.
Dropping lightly to the ground, the Fallen calmly removed the Jaffa's Zat'nikal before tossing the body onto a roof and resumed climbing and traversing the rooftops, making her way to the pad where she could see a Tel'tak landed with Jaffa off-loading supplies. Nodding in satisfaction at her exit strategy, the Baron began making her way across the rooftops towards the most heavily-decorated building.
She grimaced behind her mask as she ingested another rationed amount of Ether before her HUD beeped as the supply was increased by the not-Servitor who appeared in a glimmer of un-light.
"That ship is hyperdrive capable." It murmured out loud, "Good. I'm already sick of this rock."
"I cannot leave yet," The Baron muttered, twirling her knife, not until I repay the insult given to me by that fool." The human twisted slightly, just enough that she could tell that the angle of his optic was meant to be a glance to the side and she explained, "I will not leave until I have his head for daring to enslave a Fallen."
The human chuckled, "As you wish." Vanishing in shrouds of Void energy, the human spoke in her mind once more, "He's asleep. Drunk as well. He should be an easy kill." Nodding, the Baron began hopping across the rooftops and climbing up walls, easily finding hand-holds in the mud and brick buildings while with a single stroke of her inactive Shock Knife, lone Jaffa found themselves lying gurgling on the ground through large jagged slashes in their necks.
It was as she was starting to climb up the gold-covered building where the master of the camp made his residence that she heard voices, "How long until the rest of the supplies are unloaded?" Peering around a corner, the Baron watched a pair of Jaffa gossiping with their staff-weapons being used to lean on.
"Not long, another hour or so. Mera managed to smuggle some of the commander's order of wine out, enough for everyone." The Baron rolled her eyes and resumed climbing. Useless gossip spouted by distracted guards; they'd wish she had killed them when the truth of her escape was uncovered.
The commander's quarters were lavish and utterly at odds with what she had seen of the rest of the slave camp, but she didn't care for the remains of what used to be a sumptuous feast as well as empty bottles of fine wine that based on the smell came from the planet of those strange animal people. What was the name again? Salusians?
"Salusians? Huh, interesting. Stop wasting time and get to it." The human snapped and the Baron grimaced before approaching the bed where the commander of the slave camp was sleeping, helmet scanners ensuring that she had the right target before with a twitch of her thumb the Shock Knife sparked to life as the Baron drew closer and raised the blade above the snoring man's head.
***
The first sign that any of the Jaffa had that something was wrong was the moment the Staff Cannon mounted on the roof of the commander's quarters suddenly opened fire, bolts of plasma fire slamming into Jaffa as they yelled in confusion, some returning fire before plasma blasts stitched into them, tearing smoking holes through their bodies before focusing on the guard towers and the Staff Cannons being clumsily turned towards the firer.
Even as the first return shots began to strike the commander's quarters, the higher vantage point of the Staff Cannon controlled by the mysterious attacker meant that the majority of the shots slammed harmlessly into the building while those that didn't came nowhere near the Cannon as it aimed at the guard posts and opened fire.
Down in the slave quarters, the slaves looked out of windows and watched in awe as plasma bolts smashed into a guard tower, the sizzling super-heated projectile penetrating the Naquadah chamber and detonating it in a thundering blast that shattered the tower down to the very base, throwing up dust as it began to collapse.
"Get some men up there! Now!" A Jaffa shouted to his subordinates, "Whoever is attacking us will pay dearly for this!" As a group of Jaffa ran towards the building, the one commanding them turned to the rest, "Firing lines! Bring the entire wall down if you have to!" Immediately, rows of Jaffa aimed their unwieldy weapons and immediately began peppering the building with plasma fire as another tower went up in a cloud of dust and debris as the Naquadah core in the Staff Cannon detonated in another explosion that lit up the night sky.
Unbeknownst to everyone involved in the fighting, save for the one operating the Staff Cannon and busy raining death down on the entrenched Jaffa, a dark shape flitted across the rooftops and in the shadows towards the Tel'tak on the landing pad, another tower exploding briefly illuminating the shape to reveal the Baron as she approached the rear door of the transport.
Up above the impending starship theft, the commandeered Staff Cannon was now starting to take fire from the barrage of staff fire from the ground as the remaining guard towers recovered enough to add their firepower even as another detonated in a flash of superheated plasma, shattering the tower in a plume of smoke and dust, showering pieces rubble across the slave camp as one airborne fragment the size of a man struck a group of Jaffa arranged in ranks and tore through them.
Pieces of stone, mortar and bodies flew through the air as the rubble piece split men and women in half and crushed others to paste, leaving long red stains of gore along the ground and splashed across walls before the piece of stone rolled to a stop, crashing through a wall of a building in the process.
The last guard tower's gunner lost his nerve at the sight, trying to flee the tower, but his fate was the same as the others another unerringly accurate shot turned the last tower into a smoking ruin, the detonation of the Staff Cannon in the guard tower managing to avoid simply leveling it like the others, but that was enough to send more burning shrapnel raining down and temporarily break the morale of the defenders.
As Jaffa ran for cover from the cannon, the group of Jaffa that had been sent to capture the gun managed to smash their way onto the rooftop; their path had been impeded by clever traps and barricades made of furniture meant to slow them down, but rather than finding an escaped slave or some lone adventurer, the group of warrior encountered an unmanned Staff Cannon.
"What trickery is this?" One of them muttered as they cautiously approached the weapon, finding no footprints in the dust, nor any signs that anyone had even been present. Drawing closer, the one who spoke noticed something glowing near the weapon's controls; the controls in question had been heavily modified, to the point that the Jaffa doubted anyone could use the weapon effectively again, but there was still something glowing there.
"What in the gods?" The Jaffa carefully peered into the mess of wires and crystals, until he saw it. A vial of liquid Naquadah, fastened into a circuit.
Eyes wide, the warrior turned to attempt a warning when the electronic timer buried in the weapon ticked to zero.
Inside the Tel'tak, the explosion of the last Staff Cannon lighting up the sky, the Baron smiled a cruel smile as she took off.
The work she and the human had accomplished was plainly visible; the guard towers were leveled, the Staff Cannons were destroyed and enough of the Jaffa garrison had been killed off by the explosions and cannon fire that even the weak rabble that were the slaves would be able to overwhelm them and vanish into the jungle.
Inside the stolen Tel'tak, while powering up the hyperdrive, the Baron turned to the human in the form of a Servitor, "So, are you satisfied with my performance?"
The human hummed lightly to himself and the Baron felt that he was smiling, "I suppose that I am. It's good that you were clever enough to recognize that I was testing you, saves me having to admit to the fact. Well now, I suppose that it should now be time to tell you the truth."
The Baron nodded as she made the final adjustments to her course and in a brief flash the hyperdrive kicked in and the craft was on its way, "Yes, it would be a fine time now. So tell me human, why are you in the form of a Servitor and why were you testing me? If I do not like your answer, I will toss you out into Hyperspace."
The human chuckled, "Tell me, Eliksini, what is the most important aspect of The Traveler?" Before the Baron could answer, the human continued, "We both know the answer. Light. The Traveler is important because it is Light. All that is good, noble and righteous, the Traveler is a literal avatar of it all. And where there is the Traveler, there is the Whirlwind, the Darkness."
The Baron's eyes narrowed, "Get to the point human, what is your role in this? What link do you have to the Great Machine?"
The human chuckled again, "Link? My link is to act as a Conduit, for the source of all that Light. As to why I tested you? Simple, I was told to find an Eliksini who was worthy to fulfill an ancient legend of your kind. And so far, you are the best out of the few that I've found over the centuries."
"Centuries? Speak plainly human, what do you mean?" There was a cold, sinking feeling in her gut, but the Baron had to know.
The human floated close, optic shifting, "Is it not obvious? You were dead, Baron. I brought you back to test you. And you've been dead for a long time. I would say...about seven-hundred years."
The Baron was very, very silent at that.
Keskin and the First Manifestation.
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
"Seven hundred years?" The Baron whispered as the human clad in the shell of a Servitor inspected the stolen Tel'tak and manipulated systems.
There was no way the human was lying; whatever it had done to bring her back...she could feel it inside her, a growing radiance suffusing her body. Was this the Light that the legends spoke of? The power that the Great Machine once granted her people?
"So, where exactly am I steering this tub?" The human, Gideon, interrupted her musings on the power within her, "Because long-range hyperspace travel usually requires a destination."
The Baron realized that she had indeed simply ordered the human to point the ship in one direction and go straight forward. She inhaled deeply and wracked her memory for a possible location.
"Keskin. It's a smuggler's hub, and a major rest stop for Eliksini fleets." She ordered, "I require proper weapons and a crew."
"And a ship that isn't so fuel-inefficient," the human scoffed, "Because the amount of adjusting I need to do-"
"Do what is necessary." She ordered, trying to settle in the chair more comfortably, "Wake me when we arrive at Keskin."
There was only a musical humming tone from the human as he continued manipulating the ship's systems.
Even as he worked, Gideon studied the growing power in the Baron and confirmed another succeeded test criteria as the ship traversed hyperspace.
Keskin, Gideon decided, would be a suitable testing site for manifesting the Baron's new powers.
Keskin. Once, this world was a shining beacon of learning and commerce, one of many trade centers in the empire forged by the Forerunners before the coming of the Flood.
Now, Keskin was a barren desert with the skeletons of Forerunner structures clawing towards the sky, its barren husk and remote location in a sector poor in resources meant that there was no need for the major powers to claim it.
And so, in the shadow of the United Compact of Sentients and the Covenant Empire, the outcasts and criminals claimed Keskin as yet another world where smugglers, slavers, pirates and mercenaries settled down to drink, whore and sell their loot before embarking on the next journey of plunder.
Quarians settled down next, their technical expertise valued enough that all sides looked out for them in their own ways, while the Quarians themselves traded for tech and supplies.
Humans soon arrived, seeking a life far from extinction on either side, and with the help of the Quarians the small landing site was soon a proper smuggling port.
But the one feature that made Keskin stand out had always been present since the early days. The Fallen had always stopped at Keskin, their fleets and the Houses that controlled them using the planet as a neutral gathering point for trade and breeding.
The establishment of a smuggler's port ensured that Fallen would always be present, the nomadic pirates simply executing any would-be warlords before planting their standards.
Keskin, more than any other smuggler's world, was Fallen territory, and so any Fallen from Dreg to Archon could come to Keskin and restart the lives by recruiting crew and claiming a derelict Ketch. The lucky ones could even secure a Servitor, allowing them to generate their own precious Ether supplies.
Meanwhile, in the shadow of the Ketch fleets, other races traded, drank, whored and lived their lives, completely unaware of how things would change with the arrival of a wildly careening Tel'tak speeding towards the desert sands below.
"Uh, boss?" Marvin Mendel glanced at the supervisor for Keskin's spaceport tower, "Shouldn't we be doing something?"
The Wookie shrugged and growled, prompting Marvin to sigh, "If you say so." He watched as the ship came in on an approach that would overshoot the spaceport, and then watched the ship hit the sand, "Looks like the jawas get a payday."
In the center of the town, stepping out of the sizzling Transmat circle, the Baron looked around with a frown behind her mask.
"Looks like things have changed," The human remarked as he flashed into existence next to her, alarming several Eliksini who had been watching her arrival.
"I had assumed as much, but I did not expect other species here." The Baron muttered before she ingested her ration of Ether flexing her hands restlessly, "I feel strange. There is a pressure in my mind, this power is growing stronger."
The human remained silent and the Baron snorted, "Another test then. I am not afraid."
"Those who have died, no longer need fear." The human replied cryptically, "But perhaps a more direct test is needed." A vial appeared on the ground with a flash, "Pick it up and go to the center square."
The Baron nodded, picking up the vial before following, aware of the oddity that her pristine but simple armor marked with no house markings presented to those watching.
Already, Eliksini were watching, perhaps alerted by the presence of the human drifting ahead while humming to himself, before the pair reached the central square where offerings would be made by other Eliksini.
Already several Archons were standing there as the human floated up to the Servitor that hovered above the Archons.
The Baron flexed her hands nervously as the human and the Servitor exchanged data before the Servitor sent a general gathering alert and drifted back as the human turned to focus on her.
"Do you feel that power within you?" The Archons stiffened in shock at the sound of a Servitor speaking in the Eliksini tongue, "Grasp the vial, concentrate, draw it from within you like the blade at your hip."
The Baron ignored the questions of the Archons, closing her eyes as she concentrated, focusing on the power inside her, the power the human said was the Light.
"There is nothing but my voice," the human whispered, "Feel it, grasp it, its weight is familiar, the grip is secure. It accepts you, it wishes to be drawn."
Was she holding a vial? It felt like the grip of a sword, large and imposing, the weight indeed familiar...as if she had wielded it before.
"Without hesitation. Without regret. Without fear. Draw the blade."
And so the Baron drew the sword.
And there was Light.
There was no dramatic chorus of song, no sudden phrase spoken by the Baron that was the center of attention to the assembled Fallen and curious on-lookers.
One moment there was nothing. And then there was a blast, a column of light roaring into the sky.
In an instant the light turned into crackling lightning, the air burning with eye-watering and nose-stinging ozone before everything ignited, blazing solar energy melting the ground but leaving all untouched.
And then finally it flared and dimmed into swirling violet darkness, casting shadows on everything in view.
And then it stopped, revealing the white-clad Baron kneeling on the ground, clutching something in her hands.
Silence reigned, none dared speak until the Baron stood up, still clutching something in her hands and an Archon approached.
Looking at the assembled Fallen, the Archon decided to try and maintain normality as she spoke, "Eliksini. Turn and present your offering."
The Baron turned silently, facing the crowd who remained silent after the spectacle, and opened her hands.
A vial of Light shone on its cord, brighter than the sun, and the Baron spoke.
"I offer you the Light."
There was no way the human was lying; whatever it had done to bring her back...she could feel it inside her, a growing radiance suffusing her body. Was this the Light that the legends spoke of? The power that the Great Machine once granted her people?
"So, where exactly am I steering this tub?" The human, Gideon, interrupted her musings on the power within her, "Because long-range hyperspace travel usually requires a destination."
The Baron realized that she had indeed simply ordered the human to point the ship in one direction and go straight forward. She inhaled deeply and wracked her memory for a possible location.
"Keskin. It's a smuggler's hub, and a major rest stop for Eliksini fleets." She ordered, "I require proper weapons and a crew."
"And a ship that isn't so fuel-inefficient," the human scoffed, "Because the amount of adjusting I need to do-"
"Do what is necessary." She ordered, trying to settle in the chair more comfortably, "Wake me when we arrive at Keskin."
There was only a musical humming tone from the human as he continued manipulating the ship's systems.
Even as he worked, Gideon studied the growing power in the Baron and confirmed another succeeded test criteria as the ship traversed hyperspace.
Keskin, Gideon decided, would be a suitable testing site for manifesting the Baron's new powers.
***
Keskin. Once, this world was a shining beacon of learning and commerce, one of many trade centers in the empire forged by the Forerunners before the coming of the Flood.
Now, Keskin was a barren desert with the skeletons of Forerunner structures clawing towards the sky, its barren husk and remote location in a sector poor in resources meant that there was no need for the major powers to claim it.
And so, in the shadow of the United Compact of Sentients and the Covenant Empire, the outcasts and criminals claimed Keskin as yet another world where smugglers, slavers, pirates and mercenaries settled down to drink, whore and sell their loot before embarking on the next journey of plunder.
Quarians settled down next, their technical expertise valued enough that all sides looked out for them in their own ways, while the Quarians themselves traded for tech and supplies.
Humans soon arrived, seeking a life far from extinction on either side, and with the help of the Quarians the small landing site was soon a proper smuggling port.
But the one feature that made Keskin stand out had always been present since the early days. The Fallen had always stopped at Keskin, their fleets and the Houses that controlled them using the planet as a neutral gathering point for trade and breeding.
The establishment of a smuggler's port ensured that Fallen would always be present, the nomadic pirates simply executing any would-be warlords before planting their standards.
Keskin, more than any other smuggler's world, was Fallen territory, and so any Fallen from Dreg to Archon could come to Keskin and restart the lives by recruiting crew and claiming a derelict Ketch. The lucky ones could even secure a Servitor, allowing them to generate their own precious Ether supplies.
Meanwhile, in the shadow of the Ketch fleets, other races traded, drank, whored and lived their lives, completely unaware of how things would change with the arrival of a wildly careening Tel'tak speeding towards the desert sands below.
"Uh, boss?" Marvin Mendel glanced at the supervisor for Keskin's spaceport tower, "Shouldn't we be doing something?"
The Wookie shrugged and growled, prompting Marvin to sigh, "If you say so." He watched as the ship came in on an approach that would overshoot the spaceport, and then watched the ship hit the sand, "Looks like the jawas get a payday."
In the center of the town, stepping out of the sizzling Transmat circle, the Baron looked around with a frown behind her mask.
"Looks like things have changed," The human remarked as he flashed into existence next to her, alarming several Eliksini who had been watching her arrival.
"I had assumed as much, but I did not expect other species here." The Baron muttered before she ingested her ration of Ether flexing her hands restlessly, "I feel strange. There is a pressure in my mind, this power is growing stronger."
The human remained silent and the Baron snorted, "Another test then. I am not afraid."
"Those who have died, no longer need fear." The human replied cryptically, "But perhaps a more direct test is needed." A vial appeared on the ground with a flash, "Pick it up and go to the center square."
The Baron nodded, picking up the vial before following, aware of the oddity that her pristine but simple armor marked with no house markings presented to those watching.
Already, Eliksini were watching, perhaps alerted by the presence of the human drifting ahead while humming to himself, before the pair reached the central square where offerings would be made by other Eliksini.
Already several Archons were standing there as the human floated up to the Servitor that hovered above the Archons.
The Baron flexed her hands nervously as the human and the Servitor exchanged data before the Servitor sent a general gathering alert and drifted back as the human turned to focus on her.
"Do you feel that power within you?" The Archons stiffened in shock at the sound of a Servitor speaking in the Eliksini tongue, "Grasp the vial, concentrate, draw it from within you like the blade at your hip."
The Baron ignored the questions of the Archons, closing her eyes as she concentrated, focusing on the power inside her, the power the human said was the Light.
"There is nothing but my voice," the human whispered, "Feel it, grasp it, its weight is familiar, the grip is secure. It accepts you, it wishes to be drawn."
Was she holding a vial? It felt like the grip of a sword, large and imposing, the weight indeed familiar...as if she had wielded it before.
"Without hesitation. Without regret. Without fear. Draw the blade."
And so the Baron drew the sword.
And there was Light.
***
There was no dramatic chorus of song, no sudden phrase spoken by the Baron that was the center of attention to the assembled Fallen and curious on-lookers.
One moment there was nothing. And then there was a blast, a column of light roaring into the sky.
In an instant the light turned into crackling lightning, the air burning with eye-watering and nose-stinging ozone before everything ignited, blazing solar energy melting the ground but leaving all untouched.
And then finally it flared and dimmed into swirling violet darkness, casting shadows on everything in view.
And then it stopped, revealing the white-clad Baron kneeling on the ground, clutching something in her hands.
Silence reigned, none dared speak until the Baron stood up, still clutching something in her hands and an Archon approached.
Looking at the assembled Fallen, the Archon decided to try and maintain normality as she spoke, "Eliksini. Turn and present your offering."
The Baron turned silently, facing the crowd who remained silent after the spectacle, and opened her hands.
A vial of Light shone on its cord, brighter than the sun, and the Baron spoke.
"I offer you the Light."
As one, the Fallen knelt before their Kell of Kells.
United Compact Of Sentients Opposition Briefing Recording 0: An introduction to the Fallen, with Guardian Vanguard Cayde-6
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Playback begins.
Playbacks opens with vision of a briefing chamber used by high-level officers aboard UCS Space Station 'Dallas-2'. Entering the chamber are General Hezak Griee of the USC Army, Admiral Naz Vagh of the USC Navy, Doctor Harley Hastings of New Coruscant University's Xenobiology Campus, SPARTAN Major Luman-5598 representing the SPARTAN Corps, [CLASSIFIED] from Office Of Naval Intelligence, SPECTRE Sibius Flodas and 'Hunter Vanguard' Cayde-6 from Earth Upsilon-28168168A161351-AXX-315n factions 'The Last City' and 'Guardians'.
Cayde-6 takes position at the head of the holo-table used for briefings.
Cayde-6: *Claps hands and rubs them.* All right then, who's ready to learn the nitty-gritty about the Fallen, the many ways they can kill you even before getting into their new upgrades, and how best to kill them in return?
Dr. Hastings: Is is really necessary to have a briefing like this? While I'm happy for any new insights, the Fallen have been around since...forever! There can't be anything new to learn about them.
Cayde-6: That a fact missy? All right, why don't you start us off with what you know then, and I'll grade you.
Dr. Hastings: The Fallen are a nomadic race of warm-blooded insectoids who regular come into conflict with other species due to their cultural fixation on piracy and raiding, with a distinct might-is-right social hierarchy that dictates access to food, water and other necessities and luxuries. They have distinct growth patterns with older individuals being larger and possessing four arms while the younger individuals only have two. Most notably, all Fallen are addicted to a stimulant known as Ether, which is widely-linked to an event called 'The Whirlwind' which shattered their original civilisation.
Cayde-6: BZZZZT! That was so far off-base that you pretty much went AWOL there. None of that is true, except the piracy, raiding, slave-trading, random bouts of abductions and unwanted surgical procedures and ritual mutilations, and occasional outright mugging. *Looks at each person around the table.* People, everything you know about the Fallen is either false, a lie told by other alien species, or just plain guessing. If Ikora was here, she'd probably be giving you all a look that would tell you just how stupid she would think this info really is.
[CLASSIFIED]: So what is the truth about the Fallen then? Recently, those who haven't gone into the Anvil have been raiding both United Compact and Covenant supply lines, conducting the looting of Forerunner archaeological digs done by both sides, and on some occasions have engaged in open assassination attempts. We need information on how to stop them, not learn their past.
Cayde-6: I know, right? But nooo, Zavala wants to save the really technical stuff for when the first Guardians and Cryptarchs arrive, Ikora is busy showing those volunteers how Warlocks do their space voodoo, and I literally drew the short straw when I could be shooting Fallen with my flaming pistol.
Luman-5598: What?
Cayde-6: Flaming pistol, super-secret Hunter space magic that lets me use a flaming revolver that shoots flaming bullets. Really cool, I'll show you next time in the field.
Luman-5598: I've yet to encounter anyone that can keep up with a SPARTAN.
Cayde-6: And I've yet to meet anyone who can come back from the dead without a ghost, so I'll guess we'll both learn things. *Shakes head.* Anyway! I'm here, and I'm telling you stuff about the Fallen, so let's get the boring stuff out of the way with a brief history lesson.
An unknown, heavily-decorated construct appears. Sensors indicate unknown spatial shifting event before arrival.
Cayde-6: You know what to do buddy.
Unknown: You got it.
Unknown uploads over 5 exabytes of intelligence information onto the network. ONI has sequestered and transferred all data to Blacksite HOLLOW WIND after this meeting.
Cayde-6: What my Ghost just uploaded was the Last City's data on the Fallen for your eggheads to look over. Short story is this: A long-ass time ago, the Fallen used to have a civilisation in an unknown galaxy, which was soon visited by the Traveler, the small moon you probably all saw hovering over The City. They have a Golden Age, a time where thanks to the Traveler they could tap into stuff that would rival your Forerunners, and then that age died.
Gen. Griee: Died? How?
Cayde-6: They call it The Whirlwind, we call it The Darkness, and no-one knows exactly what it is. All we know is that it ain't this 'Flood' that the Forerunners, fought, it was something that could wipe out civilizations in an instant, no need for a war. The Traveler fled, and the Fallen built ships to follow it. Every piece of data we have says that the Fallen followed the Traveler from a galaxy that was not connected to the Halos, which meant they followed it across the Dark Space with their own FTL systems.
Adm. Vagh: How the frell did they survive that?
Cayde-6: The Cryptarchs might be able to tell you, but I've got no idea personally. All I know is that the journey made them into the Fallen you all know and hate.
Dr. Hastings: And how does that account for their physical differences and the combat stimulant?
Cayde-6: It ain't a stimulant. Ether is literally the only thing they consume, it's food, oxygen, water, possibly even their blood. It's literally the stuff of life for a Fallen and it's rationed viciously. Only their Servitors, the big beach-balls that fire quantum energy bolts at you, can make the stuff, and they do it by rendering down a mix of mineral and primarily biological material into Ether.
[CLASSIFIED]: Then the ones they don't sell into slavery or to the Dark Eldar...
Cayde-6: You got it. Turned into Ether to feed the crew. As for the difference between a Dreg and a Captain, it's both because of the Ether supply and how they live. Might makes right is only half the equation; Fallen have to be cunning, paranoid, and vicious to rise to higher ranks and keep those ranks. You do something that shows you can pull more than your fair share of weight, you get more Ether and might even get the chance to get your lower two arms back, but you screw up, they cut those arms off and you're back to being a Dreg.
Luman-5598: Dreg, a rank title similar to reporting nicknames for Covenant troops?
Cayde-6: Eh, probably. It's mostly a close approximation of what they call each other based on our translations done by Cryptarchs of their computers.
Luman-5598: No-one has been able to break the encryption on those computers successfully, any data recovered is inevitably junk.
Cayde-6: That ain't junk. Fallen data uses different protocols and their records are as much diary entries as shipping manifests. You can glean a lot about how a particular Baron or Kell is planning to raid a Guardian outpost based on the diaries of a Vandal musing about a scouting mission.
Gen. Griee: What are the ranks in the Fallen Hierarchy? What purpose do they serve?
Cayde-6: There we go, now that's a good question! Fallen are ranked as Dregs, Wretches, Vandals, Marauders and then the Captains who make up a grouping called a Crew. Captains keep the Crew in line and dole out the Ether rations, and they need to be impressed to allow a Dreg to become a Vandal and get the right to grow their arms back. Oh yeah, quick thing? Fallen can regenerate from any injury short of decapitation if they survive, and no Guardian has ever met a Fallen weakened by old age, they're stay strong and they get meaner.
Gen. Griee: These Crews, the Captain runs one of those massive ships then? Or one of the smaller Dropships?
Cayde-6: Nope. The dropships, we call 'em Skiffs, and some of the starships, called Ketches, are run by Barons. Think of a Baron as a Captain on maybe-literal steroids and you'll have a good idea of what their place is.
Luman-5598: Those have been encountered by SPARTANs in the field before. They're difficult opposition.
Cayde-6: Personal teleporters, cloaking devices, custom weapons and an energy shield combined with possibly several centuries of experience tend to make a Baron pretty damn hard to kill. A lot of the bastards have some kinda emergency teleport that sends them to safety so they can regenerate, and if you ever want to know what getting beaten to death with your own leg feels like, feel free to ask.
*Whispered statement*: Damn bitch was laughing at me, I just know it.
SPECTRE Flodas: Who else is higher?
Cayde-6: Caught that did you? Well, the throne is held by the Kells, but the king-makers are the Archons, who are basically something between a master engineer and a priest. See, they talk to the Servitors and also maintain the Walkers, Pikes, Skiffs, Ketches and guns as Crew overseers. Either way, they're the big dogs; if you think a Baron is tough, try facing a Kell armed with a Scorch Cannon and a pair of Shock Blades or an Archon with a fully-automatic Shrapnel Rifle while he's tossing Shock Grenades everywhere.
SPECTRE Flodas: Would such high-ranking individuals risk themselves so openly though?
Cayde-6: Yup. They lead the way, so they can get the glory and the best loot. Pirates remember? The leader gets the best share, the rest have to make do with whatever they can grab or steal for themselves.
Gen. Griee: I see. What can you tell us of their technology?
Playback Paused.
Playbacks opens with vision of a briefing chamber used by high-level officers aboard UCS Space Station 'Dallas-2'. Entering the chamber are General Hezak Griee of the USC Army, Admiral Naz Vagh of the USC Navy, Doctor Harley Hastings of New Coruscant University's Xenobiology Campus, SPARTAN Major Luman-5598 representing the SPARTAN Corps, [CLASSIFIED] from Office Of Naval Intelligence, SPECTRE Sibius Flodas and 'Hunter Vanguard' Cayde-6 from Earth Upsilon-28168168A161351-AXX-315n factions 'The Last City' and 'Guardians'.
Cayde-6 takes position at the head of the holo-table used for briefings.
Cayde-6: *Claps hands and rubs them.* All right then, who's ready to learn the nitty-gritty about the Fallen, the many ways they can kill you even before getting into their new upgrades, and how best to kill them in return?
Dr. Hastings: Is is really necessary to have a briefing like this? While I'm happy for any new insights, the Fallen have been around since...forever! There can't be anything new to learn about them.
Cayde-6: That a fact missy? All right, why don't you start us off with what you know then, and I'll grade you.
Dr. Hastings: The Fallen are a nomadic race of warm-blooded insectoids who regular come into conflict with other species due to their cultural fixation on piracy and raiding, with a distinct might-is-right social hierarchy that dictates access to food, water and other necessities and luxuries. They have distinct growth patterns with older individuals being larger and possessing four arms while the younger individuals only have two. Most notably, all Fallen are addicted to a stimulant known as Ether, which is widely-linked to an event called 'The Whirlwind' which shattered their original civilisation.
Cayde-6: BZZZZT! That was so far off-base that you pretty much went AWOL there. None of that is true, except the piracy, raiding, slave-trading, random bouts of abductions and unwanted surgical procedures and ritual mutilations, and occasional outright mugging. *Looks at each person around the table.* People, everything you know about the Fallen is either false, a lie told by other alien species, or just plain guessing. If Ikora was here, she'd probably be giving you all a look that would tell you just how stupid she would think this info really is.
[CLASSIFIED]: So what is the truth about the Fallen then? Recently, those who haven't gone into the Anvil have been raiding both United Compact and Covenant supply lines, conducting the looting of Forerunner archaeological digs done by both sides, and on some occasions have engaged in open assassination attempts. We need information on how to stop them, not learn their past.
Cayde-6: I know, right? But nooo, Zavala wants to save the really technical stuff for when the first Guardians and Cryptarchs arrive, Ikora is busy showing those volunteers how Warlocks do their space voodoo, and I literally drew the short straw when I could be shooting Fallen with my flaming pistol.
Luman-5598: What?
Cayde-6: Flaming pistol, super-secret Hunter space magic that lets me use a flaming revolver that shoots flaming bullets. Really cool, I'll show you next time in the field.
Luman-5598: I've yet to encounter anyone that can keep up with a SPARTAN.
Cayde-6: And I've yet to meet anyone who can come back from the dead without a ghost, so I'll guess we'll both learn things. *Shakes head.* Anyway! I'm here, and I'm telling you stuff about the Fallen, so let's get the boring stuff out of the way with a brief history lesson.
An unknown, heavily-decorated construct appears. Sensors indicate unknown spatial shifting event before arrival.
Cayde-6: You know what to do buddy.
Unknown: You got it.
Unknown uploads over 5 exabytes of intelligence information onto the network. ONI has sequestered and transferred all data to Blacksite HOLLOW WIND after this meeting.
Cayde-6: What my Ghost just uploaded was the Last City's data on the Fallen for your eggheads to look over. Short story is this: A long-ass time ago, the Fallen used to have a civilisation in an unknown galaxy, which was soon visited by the Traveler, the small moon you probably all saw hovering over The City. They have a Golden Age, a time where thanks to the Traveler they could tap into stuff that would rival your Forerunners, and then that age died.
Gen. Griee: Died? How?
Cayde-6: They call it The Whirlwind, we call it The Darkness, and no-one knows exactly what it is. All we know is that it ain't this 'Flood' that the Forerunners, fought, it was something that could wipe out civilizations in an instant, no need for a war. The Traveler fled, and the Fallen built ships to follow it. Every piece of data we have says that the Fallen followed the Traveler from a galaxy that was not connected to the Halos, which meant they followed it across the Dark Space with their own FTL systems.
Adm. Vagh: How the frell did they survive that?
Cayde-6: The Cryptarchs might be able to tell you, but I've got no idea personally. All I know is that the journey made them into the Fallen you all know and hate.
Dr. Hastings: And how does that account for their physical differences and the combat stimulant?
Cayde-6: It ain't a stimulant. Ether is literally the only thing they consume, it's food, oxygen, water, possibly even their blood. It's literally the stuff of life for a Fallen and it's rationed viciously. Only their Servitors, the big beach-balls that fire quantum energy bolts at you, can make the stuff, and they do it by rendering down a mix of mineral and primarily biological material into Ether.
[CLASSIFIED]: Then the ones they don't sell into slavery or to the Dark Eldar...
Cayde-6: You got it. Turned into Ether to feed the crew. As for the difference between a Dreg and a Captain, it's both because of the Ether supply and how they live. Might makes right is only half the equation; Fallen have to be cunning, paranoid, and vicious to rise to higher ranks and keep those ranks. You do something that shows you can pull more than your fair share of weight, you get more Ether and might even get the chance to get your lower two arms back, but you screw up, they cut those arms off and you're back to being a Dreg.
Luman-5598: Dreg, a rank title similar to reporting nicknames for Covenant troops?
Cayde-6: Eh, probably. It's mostly a close approximation of what they call each other based on our translations done by Cryptarchs of their computers.
Luman-5598: No-one has been able to break the encryption on those computers successfully, any data recovered is inevitably junk.
Cayde-6: That ain't junk. Fallen data uses different protocols and their records are as much diary entries as shipping manifests. You can glean a lot about how a particular Baron or Kell is planning to raid a Guardian outpost based on the diaries of a Vandal musing about a scouting mission.
Gen. Griee: What are the ranks in the Fallen Hierarchy? What purpose do they serve?
Cayde-6: There we go, now that's a good question! Fallen are ranked as Dregs, Wretches, Vandals, Marauders and then the Captains who make up a grouping called a Crew. Captains keep the Crew in line and dole out the Ether rations, and they need to be impressed to allow a Dreg to become a Vandal and get the right to grow their arms back. Oh yeah, quick thing? Fallen can regenerate from any injury short of decapitation if they survive, and no Guardian has ever met a Fallen weakened by old age, they're stay strong and they get meaner.
Gen. Griee: These Crews, the Captain runs one of those massive ships then? Or one of the smaller Dropships?
Cayde-6: Nope. The dropships, we call 'em Skiffs, and some of the starships, called Ketches, are run by Barons. Think of a Baron as a Captain on maybe-literal steroids and you'll have a good idea of what their place is.
Luman-5598: Those have been encountered by SPARTANs in the field before. They're difficult opposition.
Cayde-6: Personal teleporters, cloaking devices, custom weapons and an energy shield combined with possibly several centuries of experience tend to make a Baron pretty damn hard to kill. A lot of the bastards have some kinda emergency teleport that sends them to safety so they can regenerate, and if you ever want to know what getting beaten to death with your own leg feels like, feel free to ask.
*Whispered statement*: Damn bitch was laughing at me, I just know it.
SPECTRE Flodas: Who else is higher?
Cayde-6: Caught that did you? Well, the throne is held by the Kells, but the king-makers are the Archons, who are basically something between a master engineer and a priest. See, they talk to the Servitors and also maintain the Walkers, Pikes, Skiffs, Ketches and guns as Crew overseers. Either way, they're the big dogs; if you think a Baron is tough, try facing a Kell armed with a Scorch Cannon and a pair of Shock Blades or an Archon with a fully-automatic Shrapnel Rifle while he's tossing Shock Grenades everywhere.
SPECTRE Flodas: Would such high-ranking individuals risk themselves so openly though?
Cayde-6: Yup. They lead the way, so they can get the glory and the best loot. Pirates remember? The leader gets the best share, the rest have to make do with whatever they can grab or steal for themselves.
Gen. Griee: I see. What can you tell us of their technology?
Playback Paused.
Ardion Prosili
An (im)Perfect Cell
Oh! This returns! :O Huzzah! Gideons big ole super Destiny crossover!
ONI Internal Email: The Hexumvirate
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
To: inopsys-56-vertigo@oni.internal.secure
Cc: mcpo117-j-cortana@sphighcom.ucsa.nav.secure
From: WATCHMAN
This is the best look my people have on the Hexumvirate. It's bare-bones in places, I know, but they know their internal security practices.
Plus, some of them aren't exactly able to be infiltrated and I'm not burning my favours with the Imperium for one of their Callidus assassins just to try.
Anyway, here.
The Hexumvirate is a trans-galactic, multi-species coalition formed by The Fallen or 'Eliksini' as a faction independant from the conflict between the United Compact Of Sentients and the Covenant Empire.
This coalition, with the Fallen as the primary ruling body, has stated its hostility to both sides and has claimed legitimacy for the Forerunner 'Mantle Of Responsibility' by touting the successful recovery and integration of approximately 920-million uploaded Forerunner minds into their society.
WATCHMAN: This could be true, or it could be complete Sith-shit. There are beings that exist in shells made from Forerunner tech and materials but no definite proof they're the real deal.
The Hexumvirate further claims control over approximately 5-trillion Promethean Knights, advanced Forerunner combat machines operated by intelligent self-aware AI's.
WATCHMAN: This right here is definitely true. The Hexumvirate has access to Prometheans and five trillion is a lowball number. We think that the real number is closer to twenty-eight trillion, all kept in secured pocket dimensional spaces along with the necessary means to manufacture replacements. Or reinforcements.
The Hexumvirate as the name implies consists of six 'core species' with an unknown number of client species under their control. Further classification of these client species is ongoing.
WATCHMAN: Right now we do know that the Scrin are a client race alongside a machine race known only as the SERK and an unknown starfaring species of incredible power called the Banx. The rest are still unknown but we expect to see them on the battlefield soon.
The core species are made up of the Fallen who control the Hexumvirate, followed by a faction known as the Trinity Alliance consisting of a human and machine faction that were at war with each other, and the rebelling Tau.
WATCHMAN: The Trinity were a surprise entry. No-one expected them to form and no-one expected them to hold together. The humans bring a lot of technical and adaptive innovations, the machines bring high technology and the Tau cover everything else.
Their Trinity teams consisting of a heavily-augmented Tau, Human and Machine operative team clad in high-spec power armour couldn't hold a candle to our Spartans or a Covenant Paladin before. Then they got their hands on the Light.
The remaining two positions on the Hexumvirate council are taken by the Hiigaran Empire, and the Ceph, both of whom are confirmed natives of the Anvil Galaxy.
The Hiigaran Empire represent the most populous group on the Hexumvirate council and while seemingly-human in actuality possess a number of genetically-inheritable augmentations that make each Hiigaran more physically and mentally capable than a base-line humanoid.
WATCHMAN: The gene-inherited augs that all Higs have make them immune to bone loss, spatial coordination and psychological problems that come from deep space ops. Also makes the dumbest look like someone with talent over here; their geniuses are capable of figuring out and standardizing entire scientific disciplines.
As the most populous power within the Hexumvirate, the Hiigarans control much of the Hexumvirate's industry, divided between various clan groupings known as 'Kiths' who also represent various geographical groupings before the unification into the Hiigaran Empire.
WATCHMAN: The control that the Higs have over industry mean that they are the only source of standardized equipment in the Hexumvirate. Said industry also happens to allow them to literally 3D-print ships and tanks, and with AIs being available, 93% of them are basically unmanned.
The Hiigarans also possess a robustly-varied but universal veneration of the Forerunners, with a chief deity-figure being an unknown Forerunner known as 'Sajuuk' although the exact identity of this Forerunner has yet to be isolated from available sources.
WATCHMAN: I can update this one. Sajuuk has been identified as a Builder who came to terraform the Anvil and seed it before he was cut off from the rest of the Forerunner Ecumene by the Halo network firing.
There's a few details that need to be confirmed, particularly with the Fallen's claim, but Sajuuk was real.
Adding to the difficulty of proper identification is that 'Sajuuk' also is the name of the Hiigaran Navy's flagship, a 7000-meter battleship of unknown Forerunner design.
WATCHMAN: Yeah, the seven-kilometer battleship was a major stumbling block. That particular Sajuuk is a frakking monster. Remember those seven Forerunner Dreadnoughts the Covenant had? This ship is the reason you only see four now.
They're not under repair. This Sajuuk cracked open three of them in a single engagement, came home with only minor damage.
Of particular note is the Hiigaran propensity towards large-scale construction and their high-durability building materials in their surface and stellar naval components.
WATCHMAN: They build big and build tough. Seeing a tank the size of a house tends to drive it home.
Further details are pending verification.
The Ceph represent the strangest member-polity in the Hexumvirate, least of which is the apparent peace they coexist with the other five member species.
WATCHMAN: I dunno what to tell you. The Ceph kill and render down anyone they see, how and why they live peacefully is unknown. Especially as Ceph communications refer to anything but Ceph as animals in the literal sense.
With their entry into the Hexumvirate however, they represent a near-unmatched capability for chemical, biological and nanological warfare.
WATCHMAN: We have more toys, but the Ceph have better ones. The jelly-squids love using nanoplagues and nanoweapons, the more horrific the better.
The Ceph also represent the most disciplined infantry forces in the Hexumvirate, armed with powerful plasma weaponry and clad in durable power-frames, a single Ceph Warrior is a potent force multiplier.
It is also believed that the Ceph were responsible for the Typhon becoming a client race.
WATCHMAN: Again, your guess is as good as mine. If the Typhon are intelligent, why would they cause so much destruction?
Listen, I'll send the rest of the report later, getting weird looks here for the size of the files being attached to this.
Attached File: Tourist Information.cf
Cc: mcpo117-j-cortana@sphighcom.ucsa.nav.secure
From: WATCHMAN
This is the best look my people have on the Hexumvirate. It's bare-bones in places, I know, but they know their internal security practices.
Plus, some of them aren't exactly able to be infiltrated and I'm not burning my favours with the Imperium for one of their Callidus assassins just to try.
Anyway, here.
The Hexumvirate is a trans-galactic, multi-species coalition formed by The Fallen or 'Eliksini' as a faction independant from the conflict between the United Compact Of Sentients and the Covenant Empire.
This coalition, with the Fallen as the primary ruling body, has stated its hostility to both sides and has claimed legitimacy for the Forerunner 'Mantle Of Responsibility' by touting the successful recovery and integration of approximately 920-million uploaded Forerunner minds into their society.
WATCHMAN: This could be true, or it could be complete Sith-shit. There are beings that exist in shells made from Forerunner tech and materials but no definite proof they're the real deal.
The Hexumvirate further claims control over approximately 5-trillion Promethean Knights, advanced Forerunner combat machines operated by intelligent self-aware AI's.
WATCHMAN: This right here is definitely true. The Hexumvirate has access to Prometheans and five trillion is a lowball number. We think that the real number is closer to twenty-eight trillion, all kept in secured pocket dimensional spaces along with the necessary means to manufacture replacements. Or reinforcements.
The Hexumvirate as the name implies consists of six 'core species' with an unknown number of client species under their control. Further classification of these client species is ongoing.
WATCHMAN: Right now we do know that the Scrin are a client race alongside a machine race known only as the SERK and an unknown starfaring species of incredible power called the Banx. The rest are still unknown but we expect to see them on the battlefield soon.
The core species are made up of the Fallen who control the Hexumvirate, followed by a faction known as the Trinity Alliance consisting of a human and machine faction that were at war with each other, and the rebelling Tau.
WATCHMAN: The Trinity were a surprise entry. No-one expected them to form and no-one expected them to hold together. The humans bring a lot of technical and adaptive innovations, the machines bring high technology and the Tau cover everything else.
Their Trinity teams consisting of a heavily-augmented Tau, Human and Machine operative team clad in high-spec power armour couldn't hold a candle to our Spartans or a Covenant Paladin before. Then they got their hands on the Light.
The remaining two positions on the Hexumvirate council are taken by the Hiigaran Empire, and the Ceph, both of whom are confirmed natives of the Anvil Galaxy.
The Hiigaran Empire represent the most populous group on the Hexumvirate council and while seemingly-human in actuality possess a number of genetically-inheritable augmentations that make each Hiigaran more physically and mentally capable than a base-line humanoid.
WATCHMAN: The gene-inherited augs that all Higs have make them immune to bone loss, spatial coordination and psychological problems that come from deep space ops. Also makes the dumbest look like someone with talent over here; their geniuses are capable of figuring out and standardizing entire scientific disciplines.
As the most populous power within the Hexumvirate, the Hiigarans control much of the Hexumvirate's industry, divided between various clan groupings known as 'Kiths' who also represent various geographical groupings before the unification into the Hiigaran Empire.
WATCHMAN: The control that the Higs have over industry mean that they are the only source of standardized equipment in the Hexumvirate. Said industry also happens to allow them to literally 3D-print ships and tanks, and with AIs being available, 93% of them are basically unmanned.
The Hiigarans also possess a robustly-varied but universal veneration of the Forerunners, with a chief deity-figure being an unknown Forerunner known as 'Sajuuk' although the exact identity of this Forerunner has yet to be isolated from available sources.
WATCHMAN: I can update this one. Sajuuk has been identified as a Builder who came to terraform the Anvil and seed it before he was cut off from the rest of the Forerunner Ecumene by the Halo network firing.
There's a few details that need to be confirmed, particularly with the Fallen's claim, but Sajuuk was real.
Adding to the difficulty of proper identification is that 'Sajuuk' also is the name of the Hiigaran Navy's flagship, a 7000-meter battleship of unknown Forerunner design.
WATCHMAN: Yeah, the seven-kilometer battleship was a major stumbling block. That particular Sajuuk is a frakking monster. Remember those seven Forerunner Dreadnoughts the Covenant had? This ship is the reason you only see four now.
They're not under repair. This Sajuuk cracked open three of them in a single engagement, came home with only minor damage.
Of particular note is the Hiigaran propensity towards large-scale construction and their high-durability building materials in their surface and stellar naval components.
WATCHMAN: They build big and build tough. Seeing a tank the size of a house tends to drive it home.
Further details are pending verification.
The Ceph represent the strangest member-polity in the Hexumvirate, least of which is the apparent peace they coexist with the other five member species.
WATCHMAN: I dunno what to tell you. The Ceph kill and render down anyone they see, how and why they live peacefully is unknown. Especially as Ceph communications refer to anything but Ceph as animals in the literal sense.
With their entry into the Hexumvirate however, they represent a near-unmatched capability for chemical, biological and nanological warfare.
WATCHMAN: We have more toys, but the Ceph have better ones. The jelly-squids love using nanoplagues and nanoweapons, the more horrific the better.
The Ceph also represent the most disciplined infantry forces in the Hexumvirate, armed with powerful plasma weaponry and clad in durable power-frames, a single Ceph Warrior is a potent force multiplier.
It is also believed that the Ceph were responsible for the Typhon becoming a client race.
WATCHMAN: Again, your guess is as good as mine. If the Typhon are intelligent, why would they cause so much destruction?
Listen, I'll send the rest of the report later, getting weird looks here for the size of the files being attached to this.
Attached File: Tourist Information.cf
Last edited:
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Don't worry, I hit my limit. I just needed to get this stuff down before I came up with something more ridiculous.
Ardion Prosili
An (im)Perfect Cell
And that's why you're a fun writer Gideon. :3 Why shoot for the stars when you can shoot further?
Though I will admit I was more enthralled with the personal bits between the most-definitely-not-a-Ghost and his most-definitely-not-a-Guardian-Ellenski because it was easier to get personally involved in their struggles IMO.
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Eh, I do too, but if I don't write this world-building bits down for reference, I could lose a possible story hook.
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Considering I was basing this off 'Far Flung Hope' you can basically lump the two main factions as follows:
-United Compact Of Sentients: UNSC at the head, then any piece of fiction you can reasonably think of has the 'good guys' as part of the Compact.
-Covenant Empire: Covenant at the head, and they have the 'bad guys' under their heel and caste system.
-The Hexumvirate: Consists of The Fallen, Terminator Humans and Skynet, Tau, Hiigarans and Ceph from Crysis. Client races will be slowly listed, but no more than 2 per core member. So far, the Typhon from the new Prey game are confirmed (based on good ending for the game).
SPARTANS and the Covenant Paladins were just basically lifted wholesale from Far Flung Hope since they were just fine as they were, same with Tau/Skynet/Tech-Com Trinity Teams.
Imbued are they are revealed in story are basically Fallen and others who have been gifted the Light. Unlike Destiny 2, the Traveler is perfectly fine with this, plus it helps it was the Traveler's idea.
Much of this will largely be only pointed out where required, the main focus will be on the Light-Drinker and her party.
Future Visions: Mimic
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Covenant CCS-class Cruiser 'Crusading Fist'
"Shipmaster," The Elite commanding the cruiser quietly grit his teeth at the smooth tones of a Covenant Paladin from behind him before he affected a look of boredom as he turned to face the female.
"What is it Paladin, the Jiralhenae not praying hard enough for your liking?" Inwardly he smirked at the look of dissatisfaction that played across the face of the demonic-looking reptilian.
"Among other matters," The Paladin's expression returned to an aloof mask, "I am going to take my crusade party with me to investigate one of the missiles that struck us during the last battle."
The Shipmaster snorted, "You mean those FTL-capable cargo pods? The ones the Huragok confirmed were filled with meaningless trinkets for the Unggoy to play with? Of what purpose could that garbage be to you?"
"Were you not informed that the Ceph have unveilled a new bio-weapon?" The Paladin remained calm as the Shipmaster sneered, "That 'garbage' as you call it could have been tainted-"
"Our medics are the best." The Shipmaster scoffed, "Nothing suspicious has been found, none of the typical biological or nanotech signatures of the Ceph." He smirked, "Unless they've somehow cracked the secrets of your magic."
The Paladin glared at the Shipmaster, before turning and stalking off, the Shipmaster turning away as the door closed, "Insufferable, self-righteous fools."
"The prophets coddle these 'Paladins', Shipmaster, they are not true warriors." A sensor operator spoke up and the Shipmaster nodded.
"Monsters of our own to fight the Demons," The Shipmaster spat, "And yet the legendary one-one-seven still lives and even slays them with the same impunity it does to the rest of us."
"The Demon is the leader of the Compact's demons for a reason, Shipmaster, and anyone who seeks to slay him would have to be a legend himself." The rest of the bridge crew laughed at the jab at the vaunted skills of the Paladins and their Crusade Orders.
Suddenly an alert rang out and the levity died instantly as the Shipmaster leaned forward, "Report!"
A sensor operator cursed and the alarm cut out, "Apologies, Shipmaster, it was an anomolous biological contact, from the Unggoy quarters." The bridge groaned while others spat oaths and curses.
"Probably using those human trinkets to relieve themselves in." The Shipmaster growled, "Where are those Paladins?"
"Engineering sector, ordering a Huragok to show them one of the enemy missiles." The same sensor operator reported, "Probably going to cast some magic on it."
"Feh!" The Shipmaster spat, "Leave them. We have a rendevous to make. Navigation, check our course and make corrections as needed. Gunnery, I want diagnostics and servicing of the weapons, and give it overriding authority over whatever idiocy the Paladins want."
He considered the situation for a moment, "And tell all crew to ignore the Paladins unless we are under attack. We don't need them caught up in that kind of ridiculousness."
"Yes Shipmaster!" The bridge crew replied.
And then the alert shrilly rang out again.
"And get those sensors checked! Shut down the entire network until that Prophet-damned error is found or the Unggoy muck out their quarters!"
Meanwhile, in the hangers, a Brute chief roared at a group of Grunts, "Move your lazy legs, Grunts! I want every weapon and piece of equipment ready for delivery once we reach the rendevous!"
As the crew laboured, one of the gravity cranes suddenly failed, dropping the cargo container which burst open to spill explosives and ammunition across the hanger deck as the Brute groaned.
"Damned Unggoy." As he turned to walk away and leave others to direct the clean-up, he felt a tugging sensation and span around, attracting the attention of another Brute.
"What is it?"
The Brute shrugged, "Nothing, my grenades must have caught on a corner." He turned away and stomped off to join his fellows, not noticing the extra grenade on his belt.
Underneath a Wraith tank, a panel was worked loose, a dark shape slithering into the gap, while underneath a nearby Marauder, wires were carefully rearranged.
None of the overworked Grunts and Sectoids cleaning up the mess noticed this, nor did the distracted Brutes and Mutons, and as the gravity crane re-engaged there was no-one paying much attention to the neglible loss in weight in that container.
Or in any of the other containers.
In the Engineering section, The Paladin raised her head alongside the rest of her party, "Did you feel that?"
"A shadow," Another Paladin replied, "Or rather...many shadows." He looked over at The Paladin, "Is this what your vision spoke of?"
The Paladin watched a Huragok remove another piece of human detritus, "These missiles. The vision showed the Ceph loading these weapons but what they placed inside was shadows, neither liquid, solid or gas."
She picked up a mug and inspected it, "Was I deceived? These are clearly common household items, in fact they look to be brand new, fresh from the factory..."
The Paladin's eyes narrowed, "And they are completely without imperfections..." As she stared at the mug with her physical senses, her inner eye opened to look more deeply and intensely at the too-perfect mug.
As the Paladins focused their attention on their own objects, a mug near the door shifted slightly.
While their brethren slaved in the hangers, some of the Grunts relaxing in their quarters started a debate on the merits of various Unggoy heroes.
"Yap-Yap?" Laughed a weapon specialist, "Yap-Yap thinks he's gonna replace the Prophets! You want a real hero, you should follow Nug-Nug The Bridge Blower!"
"I thought Nug-Nug accidentally fired a fuel rod into a reactor and blew himself up?" Another spoke up as he removed his breathing mask.
"Nug-Nug doesn't die, he just gets more ammunition." The specialist replied solemnly, eliciting nods and cheers from other listening Grunts before one of them spotted his friend playing with a human drinking cup.
"Whattya doin'?" The addressed Grunt looked up and held up the mug.
"I learned human signs, so I'm gonna practice by reading the words on this out loud!"
His friend made the appropriate noises of being impressed, "What does it say?"
"Its says..." The Grunt concentrated on the words, "Where you are going, your screams are your currency."
The other Grunt cocked, "What does that mean? And why is that thing vibrating?"
The Grunt holding the mug turned his head just in time to see it explode into a mass of black tentacles.
And then the screams began.
Alarms were screaming across the ship as The Shipmaster stared in shock at the wave of biological contaminant warnings, combat alerts and frantic messages ranging from shouted requests for orders over the sound of gunfire and explosions, or long screams of agony and terror.
"Where is the source?" The Shipmaster roared as his bridge officers worked furiously to rally the crew of the cruiser.
"Multiple outbreaks across the lower decks, detonations inside the hangers, no new hull breaches and there are no Compact signatures inside! This came out of nowhere!"
"Not nowhere..." The Shipmaster snarled, "The Ceph missiles. The trash was the bioweapon." He turned to his communications officer, "Contact those Paladins, get them to rally at the bridge."
"We're not evacuating?" One of the bridge officers asked.
"To where?" The Shipmaster snapped, "We are in the middle of nowhere. We're already dead, so we need to hold out long enough to reach the rendevous and warning the rest of the Empire!" He slammed a fist onto the railing, "We die as warriors! Tell all survivors to rally at the bridge, we must hold here long enough to arrive!"
As the rallying call went out to the survivors, the Paladins charged through a door and slapped the door lock, sealing the door in the face of a screeching black tide, The Paladin studied the door as the sound of claws scratching on metal was drowned out by the alarms.
"The Huragok stood no chance." One of her party breathed out disbelievingly, "They were everywhere...everything, no-one could have detected them."
"They fooled our Inner Sight." Another growled sourly, his expression one of a being mortally offended rather than shocked or even intimidated.
"So the Ceph truly did load darkness itself into those missiles." One mused thoughtfully, "We must find a way to warn the rest of the clans. If this bioweapon spreads-"
"It could mean the end of the Covenant." The Paladin declared ominously, "These creatures are clearly intelligent, and capable of reproducing in great numbers, we must rally the crew to beat the creatures back and-"
"Attention all crew!" The Shipmaster's voice rang out through the ship, "The ship is under attack by an unknown bio-weapon that has sabotaged our escape craft. All crew are to rally at the bridge. We are to hold until we reach the rendesvous and warn our comrades, after which I will scuttle the ship to prevent the spread of this infection."
"Scuttle the ship..." One of the Paladins sounded almost impressed, "We had best head to the bridge to rally the survivors-"
"Unfortunately, I have confirmed that the Paladins have died in a heroic defence near the infection's outbreak point in Engineering. To prevent it spreading further, all lower-deck bulkheads are now being sealed, which will limit the infection to the upper decks."
"That damned fool," One of The Paladin's party growled, "His ship is dying around him and he still wants us dead." He turned to the leader, "It will take time for them to seal, we can still-"
An electronic tone played, drawing the Paladins towards the door behind them, the bulkhead opening to reveal a horde of skittering shadows fill the hallway.
One of them slithered off the control panel, The Paladin drawing her fighting staff with the rest of her party, "It seems the Shipmaster is a prophet."
One of her party snickered.
The Shipmaster wondered if there was some cosmic joke being played on him as the doors were hastily welded shut by the bridge crew with what equipment they possessed.
The ship was silent but it was due to enter real-space momentarily, and an automated warning was now constantly transmitting on all frequencies.
Covenant would recognize the coded message, and the Shipmaster hoped that the Compact forces would suffer some losses before they blew up the ship.
"It is done Shipmaster." A crewman reported as the rest checked their weapons and plasma swords, others checking their shields.
"With any luck, we can be rescued, but we must be prepared to face the inevitable." He turned to say more when he paused, "What is that?"
The crew turned to spot something on the ground, and the Shipmaster watched one of his crew approach it and pick it up.
It was a human coffee mug.
The crewmember inspected it carefully, "There is something written on it, Shipmaster."
The Shipmaster, eyes narrowed suspiciously, gripped his energy blade, "What does it say?"
The crewmember turned the mug to read the words properly, "No-one looks up."
The Shipmaster paused, considered the words, and slowly craned his head to stare at the ceiling.
Darkness stared back.
"Roger Starhammer. Prepare to board the Covenant Cruiser and begin intelligence gathering operations, we need to grab as much as we can before that distress beacon brings in a search operation."
"Understood Command, preparing for boarding operations now."
As the communications console on the bridge of 'Crusading Fist' crackled with the communications signals of a inbound United Compact ship, a single white coffee mug shifted position slightly.
"Shipmaster," The Elite commanding the cruiser quietly grit his teeth at the smooth tones of a Covenant Paladin from behind him before he affected a look of boredom as he turned to face the female.
"What is it Paladin, the Jiralhenae not praying hard enough for your liking?" Inwardly he smirked at the look of dissatisfaction that played across the face of the demonic-looking reptilian.
"Among other matters," The Paladin's expression returned to an aloof mask, "I am going to take my crusade party with me to investigate one of the missiles that struck us during the last battle."
The Shipmaster snorted, "You mean those FTL-capable cargo pods? The ones the Huragok confirmed were filled with meaningless trinkets for the Unggoy to play with? Of what purpose could that garbage be to you?"
"Were you not informed that the Ceph have unveilled a new bio-weapon?" The Paladin remained calm as the Shipmaster sneered, "That 'garbage' as you call it could have been tainted-"
"Our medics are the best." The Shipmaster scoffed, "Nothing suspicious has been found, none of the typical biological or nanotech signatures of the Ceph." He smirked, "Unless they've somehow cracked the secrets of your magic."
The Paladin glared at the Shipmaster, before turning and stalking off, the Shipmaster turning away as the door closed, "Insufferable, self-righteous fools."
"The prophets coddle these 'Paladins', Shipmaster, they are not true warriors." A sensor operator spoke up and the Shipmaster nodded.
"Monsters of our own to fight the Demons," The Shipmaster spat, "And yet the legendary one-one-seven still lives and even slays them with the same impunity it does to the rest of us."
"The Demon is the leader of the Compact's demons for a reason, Shipmaster, and anyone who seeks to slay him would have to be a legend himself." The rest of the bridge crew laughed at the jab at the vaunted skills of the Paladins and their Crusade Orders.
Suddenly an alert rang out and the levity died instantly as the Shipmaster leaned forward, "Report!"
A sensor operator cursed and the alarm cut out, "Apologies, Shipmaster, it was an anomolous biological contact, from the Unggoy quarters." The bridge groaned while others spat oaths and curses.
"Probably using those human trinkets to relieve themselves in." The Shipmaster growled, "Where are those Paladins?"
"Engineering sector, ordering a Huragok to show them one of the enemy missiles." The same sensor operator reported, "Probably going to cast some magic on it."
"Feh!" The Shipmaster spat, "Leave them. We have a rendevous to make. Navigation, check our course and make corrections as needed. Gunnery, I want diagnostics and servicing of the weapons, and give it overriding authority over whatever idiocy the Paladins want."
He considered the situation for a moment, "And tell all crew to ignore the Paladins unless we are under attack. We don't need them caught up in that kind of ridiculousness."
"Yes Shipmaster!" The bridge crew replied.
And then the alert shrilly rang out again.
"And get those sensors checked! Shut down the entire network until that Prophet-damned error is found or the Unggoy muck out their quarters!"
Meanwhile, in the hangers, a Brute chief roared at a group of Grunts, "Move your lazy legs, Grunts! I want every weapon and piece of equipment ready for delivery once we reach the rendevous!"
As the crew laboured, one of the gravity cranes suddenly failed, dropping the cargo container which burst open to spill explosives and ammunition across the hanger deck as the Brute groaned.
"Damned Unggoy." As he turned to walk away and leave others to direct the clean-up, he felt a tugging sensation and span around, attracting the attention of another Brute.
"What is it?"
The Brute shrugged, "Nothing, my grenades must have caught on a corner." He turned away and stomped off to join his fellows, not noticing the extra grenade on his belt.
Underneath a Wraith tank, a panel was worked loose, a dark shape slithering into the gap, while underneath a nearby Marauder, wires were carefully rearranged.
None of the overworked Grunts and Sectoids cleaning up the mess noticed this, nor did the distracted Brutes and Mutons, and as the gravity crane re-engaged there was no-one paying much attention to the neglible loss in weight in that container.
Or in any of the other containers.
In the Engineering section, The Paladin raised her head alongside the rest of her party, "Did you feel that?"
"A shadow," Another Paladin replied, "Or rather...many shadows." He looked over at The Paladin, "Is this what your vision spoke of?"
The Paladin watched a Huragok remove another piece of human detritus, "These missiles. The vision showed the Ceph loading these weapons but what they placed inside was shadows, neither liquid, solid or gas."
She picked up a mug and inspected it, "Was I deceived? These are clearly common household items, in fact they look to be brand new, fresh from the factory..."
The Paladin's eyes narrowed, "And they are completely without imperfections..." As she stared at the mug with her physical senses, her inner eye opened to look more deeply and intensely at the too-perfect mug.
As the Paladins focused their attention on their own objects, a mug near the door shifted slightly.
While their brethren slaved in the hangers, some of the Grunts relaxing in their quarters started a debate on the merits of various Unggoy heroes.
"Yap-Yap?" Laughed a weapon specialist, "Yap-Yap thinks he's gonna replace the Prophets! You want a real hero, you should follow Nug-Nug The Bridge Blower!"
"I thought Nug-Nug accidentally fired a fuel rod into a reactor and blew himself up?" Another spoke up as he removed his breathing mask.
"Nug-Nug doesn't die, he just gets more ammunition." The specialist replied solemnly, eliciting nods and cheers from other listening Grunts before one of them spotted his friend playing with a human drinking cup.
"Whattya doin'?" The addressed Grunt looked up and held up the mug.
"I learned human signs, so I'm gonna practice by reading the words on this out loud!"
His friend made the appropriate noises of being impressed, "What does it say?"
"Its says..." The Grunt concentrated on the words, "Where you are going, your screams are your currency."
The other Grunt cocked, "What does that mean? And why is that thing vibrating?"
The Grunt holding the mug turned his head just in time to see it explode into a mass of black tentacles.
And then the screams began.
Alarms were screaming across the ship as The Shipmaster stared in shock at the wave of biological contaminant warnings, combat alerts and frantic messages ranging from shouted requests for orders over the sound of gunfire and explosions, or long screams of agony and terror.
"Where is the source?" The Shipmaster roared as his bridge officers worked furiously to rally the crew of the cruiser.
"Multiple outbreaks across the lower decks, detonations inside the hangers, no new hull breaches and there are no Compact signatures inside! This came out of nowhere!"
"Not nowhere..." The Shipmaster snarled, "The Ceph missiles. The trash was the bioweapon." He turned to his communications officer, "Contact those Paladins, get them to rally at the bridge."
"We're not evacuating?" One of the bridge officers asked.
"To where?" The Shipmaster snapped, "We are in the middle of nowhere. We're already dead, so we need to hold out long enough to reach the rendevous and warning the rest of the Empire!" He slammed a fist onto the railing, "We die as warriors! Tell all survivors to rally at the bridge, we must hold here long enough to arrive!"
As the rallying call went out to the survivors, the Paladins charged through a door and slapped the door lock, sealing the door in the face of a screeching black tide, The Paladin studied the door as the sound of claws scratching on metal was drowned out by the alarms.
"The Huragok stood no chance." One of her party breathed out disbelievingly, "They were everywhere...everything, no-one could have detected them."
"They fooled our Inner Sight." Another growled sourly, his expression one of a being mortally offended rather than shocked or even intimidated.
"So the Ceph truly did load darkness itself into those missiles." One mused thoughtfully, "We must find a way to warn the rest of the clans. If this bioweapon spreads-"
"It could mean the end of the Covenant." The Paladin declared ominously, "These creatures are clearly intelligent, and capable of reproducing in great numbers, we must rally the crew to beat the creatures back and-"
"Attention all crew!" The Shipmaster's voice rang out through the ship, "The ship is under attack by an unknown bio-weapon that has sabotaged our escape craft. All crew are to rally at the bridge. We are to hold until we reach the rendesvous and warn our comrades, after which I will scuttle the ship to prevent the spread of this infection."
"Scuttle the ship..." One of the Paladins sounded almost impressed, "We had best head to the bridge to rally the survivors-"
"Unfortunately, I have confirmed that the Paladins have died in a heroic defence near the infection's outbreak point in Engineering. To prevent it spreading further, all lower-deck bulkheads are now being sealed, which will limit the infection to the upper decks."
"That damned fool," One of The Paladin's party growled, "His ship is dying around him and he still wants us dead." He turned to the leader, "It will take time for them to seal, we can still-"
An electronic tone played, drawing the Paladins towards the door behind them, the bulkhead opening to reveal a horde of skittering shadows fill the hallway.
One of them slithered off the control panel, The Paladin drawing her fighting staff with the rest of her party, "It seems the Shipmaster is a prophet."
One of her party snickered.
The Shipmaster wondered if there was some cosmic joke being played on him as the doors were hastily welded shut by the bridge crew with what equipment they possessed.
The ship was silent but it was due to enter real-space momentarily, and an automated warning was now constantly transmitting on all frequencies.
Covenant would recognize the coded message, and the Shipmaster hoped that the Compact forces would suffer some losses before they blew up the ship.
"It is done Shipmaster." A crewman reported as the rest checked their weapons and plasma swords, others checking their shields.
"With any luck, we can be rescued, but we must be prepared to face the inevitable." He turned to say more when he paused, "What is that?"
The crew turned to spot something on the ground, and the Shipmaster watched one of his crew approach it and pick it up.
It was a human coffee mug.
The crewmember inspected it carefully, "There is something written on it, Shipmaster."
The Shipmaster, eyes narrowed suspiciously, gripped his energy blade, "What does it say?"
The crewmember turned the mug to read the words properly, "No-one looks up."
The Shipmaster paused, considered the words, and slowly craned his head to stare at the ceiling.
Darkness stared back.
***
"Command, this is Star Destroyer 'Starhammer', I have the Covenant derelict in sight."
"Roger Starhammer. Prepare to board the Covenant Cruiser and begin intelligence gathering operations, we need to grab as much as we can before that distress beacon brings in a search operation."
"Understood Command, preparing for boarding operations now."
As the communications console on the bridge of 'Crusading Fist' crackled with the communications signals of a inbound United Compact ship, a single white coffee mug shifted position slightly.
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