Covenant Intermission

[Dufflepud]

Fleetmaster Geidr Svor ‘Vrotalai, CNV Triumph and Condemnation

Geidr mulled over the words of his coming speach in his head as he sat upon his regular seat on the bridge of his Assault Carrier. He almost wasn't aware when the Master of Communications, Faroth 'Solamee called out,

"Excellency, your communicator is linked to that of every soldier in the fleet. You may begin." Giedr gave a nod, lifting the piece to his mouth and flexing his mandibles.

"Warriors of the covenant," he began, similar to most speaches addressed to the common soldier, "you have served the path well. You're actions on the world we have left were those that could be expected of any true warrior of the covenant."

Geidr took a short pause, to let his light complement sink in for a moment, before continuing,

"But all of you may thank the gods that you still draw breath. What we unleashed below was a demon beyond anything the covenant has faced before. Every one of you fought admirably, but in order to repel and enemy such as this, amirably is not enough. One day we may face this parasite again, and when we do, the full might of the covenant must be brought to bear, for if we are surprised by this menace once more, I'm afraid that we will not be as lucky as we were."

The fleetmaster once more paused, this time giving his bridge crew a meaningful look, before speaking again,

"Rest and relax for this brief period of time, you will need your strength for the coming battles." With this statement, he deactivated the communicator and sat back with a sigh.

(OOC: All covenant are stationed aboard a ship in the fleet, although most PCs will be either inside of the Triumph and Condemnation, or the Divine Harbinger.)

[Huka]

Major Domo Til 'Muramai
Aboard the Divine Harbinger

Sitting on a crate with his unhelmed head in his hands, Til was alone now since his, as the humans would describe, 'episode'. His body was shaking, his head pounding, and his eyes saw nothing but the dying faces of his warriors and occassional flashes of Sentinels and the Parasite;

Pluk,

Glutz,

Reeg,

Dakip,

Piypip,

Berek,

Tui,

Raz,

and Skor...

He have failed them all. It was his fault. It felt like it in his hearts. His clawed hands tightened on his head in frustation.

'Holy Spirits of Muram...Gods of the Covenant...whoever can hear my woes. Please, I have no hope of my destiny, I place my body to your command. Others say I have a purpose, to keep living for those who have died...but it is not the Sangheilian way. I have lost the honor of being a commander. I...can see how I can live on, but I continue to walk as a husk. A weapon to the Covenant. I pray to you, not to forgive me, but to give my unworthy body as a purpose to do your will. My soul...I can't speak about that. Only you have the true judgement on that, my ancestors. ' He prayed out loud to himself. As he said the words, they echoed off the walls in his self-loathing but he started to feel a bit less burdened.

[kartoffelfogel]

High Shipmaster Uredan 'Zakharai

It was time for him to gather the warriors of the Covenant worthy to advance. The task had fallen to him, as the Fleetmaster's second-in-command.

He had put the announcement out--already the calls were being made. There were advancements in rank to be had.

He would wait until they were all gathered once again in the Triumph and Condemnation's amphitheatre. And then...they would learn that the Prophets could be kind, and that virtue does have a reward.

OOC:

Promotion time!

If you feel as if your character should be promoted, post as him/her in the amphitheatre.

[Spartan 999]

Special Operations Officer Sorsa 'Xirsasai traipsed into the amphitheater, dark armor dully glinting in the light. He folded his arms as he took a position near the back, half-concealed in shadow. He took slow, measured breaths as his eyes flicked over all that were there, sizing up the crowd with a practiced eye. He knew not why he was here, though he suspected it had something to do with the fact most of his creche had been slaughtered on Artifice. His best guess would be a demotion, or maybe, just maybe, he would become...

No. He shook his head slightly, bracing himself for the inevitable demotion. But...he couldn't shake the thought of becoming an Assassin. He had often wondered what it would be like, and found it appealed to him. Still, it was a million-in-one chance he would be given that particular rank, and he didn't want to get his hopes up.

He clicked his mandibles, somewhat frustrated. He looked around, aware that the room had filled up. His muscles tensed as he looked up at High Shipmaster 'Zakharai, awaiting the inevitable.

[kartoffelfogel]

It was to be expected.

Most of his compatriots believed that he was long overdue for promotion, and the remainder believed that he was overdue not only for his promotion to Ultra, but for his promotion to Zealot. It was therefore of no surprise to him when he was given a notice telling him to report at the amphitheater.

Upon his arrival at the amphitheater, the High Shipmaster had already begun the ceremony. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure standing in the shadows--distinctive Spec Ops armor. He kept his distance. Had had only ever met one Special Operator who he had not disliked at first sight. But chances were that Sorsa would be far away by now.

High Shipmaster Uredan 'Zakharai intoned the first names.

"Sorsa 'Xirsasai."

"Legra 'Adantee."

Legra blinked. The gods are definitely watching us now.

He began to dazedly walk toward the center of the amphitheater.

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa cocked his head to the side, mandibles clicking twice when he heard Legra's name. He unfolded his arms, then tentatively took a step forward after a short pause. He continued, walking somewhat slower than usual to the raised dais at the center.

He nodded slightly to Legra as they both reached the middle of the amphitheater at the same time. His hands clenched and unclenched, mind racing as he bowed to the High Shipmaster.

[kartoffelfogel]

"Legra 'Adantee."

"You are a Major Domo, and the Huntsmaster of Templar's Rest."

"You also participated in the campaign against the Humans in the Epsilon Tauri system."

"Your reward is long overdue."

The High Shipmaster sonorously proclaimed the words. Legra bowed.

"You wear now the proud armor of a Major Domo. Now, it is pockmarked by burns and bullet holes. It has served you well...but it no longer fits the warrior you have grown to be."

"Will you don the armor of an Ultra? Do you swear upon the blood of our fathers, on the blood of our sons, to uphold this armor and the Covenant it protects?"

Legra raised his head slightly, and then bowed even deeper once more, in a solemn nod. He intoned his words earnestly, and fervently.

"I shall, on the blood of our fathers, on the blood of our sons, I swear to uphold this armor and the Covenant it protects."

"Then allow me to present you with a rare gift. Alongside your own two curveblades of steel and bone, take these curveswords of energy. Your armor will be sent to your quarters."



High Shipmaster 'Zakharai turned to Sorsa. He leaned close to the Special Operator, and whispered in his tympana.

"It saddens me that I cannot give you what you deserve. I cannot mention your courage on Templar's Rest, or any of your other exploits. To do so would be to betray the trust of our Prophets. Let me instead commend you on your courage."

He stood back.

"Sorsa 'Xirsasai."

Without any further words, he drew a small crimson bundle from the depths of his cloak, with a small wristband atop it. He presented it to Sorsa.

"These are your raiments. This is your blade. Out of the darkness, it shall light your way."

There was no question. No answer was invited.

There was simply the cloak. And the blade.

[Huka]

Major Domo Til 'Muramee

Standing amongst the matter of blue and red armor, Til mixed amongst the crowd to hide in shame of his efforts. Then he heard the names of his closest and dearest of friends,

Legra 'Adantee and Sorsa 'Xirasasai.

Clicking his mandibles, Til watched the possible promotion, and shook his head in mild happiness.

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa's mandibles slackened, then snapped together as he took the cloak and sword, then bowed low to 'Zakharai. He backed up, then turned to walk out. He jerked his head to the side slightly once he caught Legra's eye, attempting to tell the newly appointed Ultra to join him after the ceremony.

[kartoffelfogel]

Legra donned his armor swiftly enough. He had strained against his own self-control in an attempt not to bolt after his quarters like a Sangheili child on Signing Day.

The armor fit him perfectly--he felt it become him, and he felt himself become it.

The blades nested easily on his hips as well, complementing the twin curveblades he bore.

He stalked out of his quarters in gleaming armor, and began to take strides toward one of the Assault Carrier's recreational centers. On his comm, he signaled Sorsa to do the same.

OOC: Huka, bring Til there too.

[Huka]

Til walked towards one of the recreational centers on the assault cruiser with a emotionless expression, pushing past people with no interest till he came to a shielded 'window' looking at the endless void of stars. He wondered how he will make his way to be a Special Operator. The clan will need to be informed soon...

[kartoffelfogel]

The recreational center Legra was walking toward was an arboretum--many Covenant ships had these. The glory of nature had never been lost on the Covenant, as nature was the canvas of the gods.

And so, it had been designed as an expression of nature--soft moss had begun appearing between the cracks in the paneling. The moss grew thicker, until it covered an expanse of space. Small, interconnected pools and burbling brooks cut sections of moss that were shrouded by trees...it was a classic hallmark of a forest on Sangheilios.

Legra wandered over to a shaded patch of thick moss. False sunlight, still seeming real, dappled the ground. He rested his hooves at the edge of a wandering stream. He drew both his curveblades and lay them, crossed, across his lap. He sat there and meditated.

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa breathed deeply, his spirits high as he strode to the arboretum. His cloak flapped out behind him, marking him as one of the deadliest Sangheili in the Covenant. He could hardly believe he had actually become an Assassin, instead of being demoted.

His lower mandibles clicked in a shrug as he entered the arboretum, nostrils expanding as he breathed in the scent of various plants. Back on Sangheilios, not many plants flourished near the Xirsas Keep, as it snowed for much of the year. His footsteps were even more muffled by the green moss as he came up behind the meditating Legra.

Sorsa paused, hands clasped behind his back, allowing the Ultra to come out of his meditative trance naturally.

[Huka]

Til rubbed his lower mandibles in deep thought, formalizing the words he would say and responses. It was a complex process but he is good at it. Exhaling, he nodded at a mental suggestion before continuing his walk into a internal garden. It was a beautiful sight to behold and his mandibles quivered in joy. Just then, hisLegra. eye caught Sorsa and Legra. Silent, he walked towards his old friends, and bowed his head. "Greetings, old friends. It have been too long since we have been together." He said with vocal joy.

[kartoffelfogel]

Legra opened his eyes.

He lifted one of his curveblades--the bone one.

"This has not been crafted at all. A handle has merely been affixed, as well as a crossguard. But for its soul...it remains in its whole as it was when it was still wielded by the moonbeast Queen."

He set it down next to him. He then lifted his steel curveblade.

"Now this...this has been crafted over and over. It is refined--it is the epitome of finesse, as crafted by the greatest bladesmiths of Xirsas. The steel is unparalleled."


He stood, and turned toward his friends.

"Friends...I am troubled in my heart. Suffice it to say I cannot bear these blades in good faith anymore."

"Sorsa...this blade has served me well. I return it to you with no steel lost, and much glory gained."

"Til, Great Hunter, this is your blade, not mine. You felled the Queen, not I. It is yours."

He held out the blades, on in each hand, the flat of the blades lying neatly on his palms.

[Huka]

Til looked at Legra in dismay and looked to Sorsa before taking the bone curveblade in his hand. He was silent to see if Legra would continue or Sorsa will say something before speaking himself.

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa looked down mutely at Legra's hand, head tipping to the side.

"Sorsa...this blade has served me well. I return it to you with no steel lost, and much glory gained."

The Assassin's head was shaking slowly side to side before Legra had even finished. "No, brother." Sorsa rumbled, crossing his arms before his chest. "I have no need for it, and I gave it as a gift."

[kartoffelfogel]

Legra turned fully to face his comrade.

"Sorsa...I cannot wield this blade any longer. To do so would be to dishonor it."

He held the blade out, now gripping it by fingertips, holding it handle-first toward Sorsa.

"I refuse to wield it. I return it to you."

[Huka]

Til looked at Legra with a firm appearance as he held the new blade in hand. This was far too familiar. "Legra." Til said, "What is going on?"

[Spartan 999]

Shifting uncomfortably, Sorsa looked down at the curveblade, then back up into Legra's eyes. His mandibles clenched as he reached a hand out...and neatly cut the blade in two with a quickly activated energy dagger. Legra's hand and fingers were unscathed as the two pieces of the curveblade tumbled into the stream, cauterized edges smoking.

The Assassin merely stared at Legra as a silence fell over the trio, face impassive behind his helmet. He crossed his arms over his barrel chest once more, then stood remarkably still--he could have been a life-size statue of an ancient Sangheili hero for all the movement he made.

[kartoffelfogel]

Legra looked at the sheared curveblade, and nodded.

He looked sadly at Til, bowing slightly.

"I'm afraid that next we meet, I fear that once again, we will be at opposite ends of a blade. Likewise, I am also afraid that there will be no compromise."

"You are both now Inquisitors...but I still trust that you will do what is right."

Legra stalked off into the false forest, his new armor gleaming in the dappled light.

[Huka]

Watching Legra leave and quickly understanding the message, Til felt something change in him. It wasn't a joyful feeling. It was dark, mucky, and disgusting. Gripping at his chest, he looked at the bony blade. First Rakath, now Legra. What is going on? Is there a plague going on seeping into everyone's heads? "Sorsa, what do we do now?" He asked, maybe more to himself than to Sorsa.

[Spartan 999]

Sorsa shook his head, his breaths deep and angry...but he truly felt a great sadness fall over his previously high spirit. He put a massive hand on Til's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother-in-arms as much as himself. He turned to leave, mandibles clenched in frustration.

He couldn't but help think his fury was partly because of a sense of betrayal more than religious fervor; he had never really been a fanatic, unlike some he had known. He growled as he strode out of the arboretum, actually lashing out with a fist at a passing Sangheili Minor in frustration. The unfortunate Minor slammed into the wall, then slid to the floor, unconscious.

Sorsa glanced around, making sure no one had seen. He continued on his way, footsteps still quite as the whispering wind.

[kartoffelfogel]

Minor Sino 'Baiyonee

Minor Sino was not having a very good day.

He had been only recently made a Minor, and he was relatively fresh out of the Academy. While he'd been in a battle, he'd never actually KILLED or even shot anyone.

After a fresh round of teasing by his comrades, he'd gone to relax in the arboretum--which, incidentally, was the place he had been assigned to clean, as punishment for his failure in battle. He'd wanted to relax a bit before doing his chores.

So, naturally, he had not been expecting a random fist from nowhere.

Worse still, he had been knocked totally unconscious.

When he awoke, he was still in the corridor. But with a glyph scribbled on his armor that read "stupid."

It was even signed by one of his lance members.

He was not enjoying himself.

Sino groaned as he stood. He gave himself a mental checklist. He had everything but...his passcode ring. His digital keys. His method in and out of the arboretum's maintenance rooms he was supposed to clean.

Now he was just mad.

He still had the broom he was carrying. Now, he was angry.

Now, this was just too much.

Now, this broom was going places.

The person who had hit him had stirred up some dust.

[Huka]

Left alone, Til was suddenly a typhoon of emotion. He felt angry, desperate, sad, and most of all..betrayed. Betrayed by close allies. These feelings were foreign and annoying. They were meant to be apart of him but they were transforming him. Shaking his head at this mental defiance, he snarled and if anyone was around to see him, he would look he was going rapid, and he threw his head back, unleashed a feral roar that echoed through the whole forest, the ground around vibrating. When he stopped, he fell on the knees, and seemed to freeze in place like he was when he was electricuted by the Moon Beast queen.

[kartoffelfogel]

Sino strode brusquely into the Arboretum, his frustration nearly boiling over. He set about his tasks with a fury--he raked the moss clean (tearing up a few clods he hastily put back in place) he lugged jugs of water to the places the streams didn't reach, and collected the assorted trash left behind by those who were careless with their refuse.

He was occupied with this when he found a very odd piece of trash--a bone curveblade. Sino dropped his trash sack temporarily and hefted it--finding it surprisingly light for a bone blade. It was sharp, amazingly so--it was also jagged and serrated. This was a valuable piece--no one would have intentionally left it.

He began to search for a possible owner. He spotted a likely candidate--a tall Sangheili in dark armor.

"Brother!" he called. "Is this blade yours?"

[Huka]

Awakening from a sudden blackout, Til shook his head from a dull pain, and started to get up when he heard someone behind, "Brother, is this yours?" Turning with his good eye, he spotted a young Minor Sangheili holding his bone curveblade. Growling angrily at first, Til straightened himself, easily towering the smaller soldier, but he relaxed and took the blade. "Yes..." He said, his normal soft voice seeming to flang with a deeper voice, before clearinghis throat. "It is. Thank you...brother." Inspecting the bone, he remembered the hunt, and started to walk away from the minor.

[kartoffelfogel]

Sino pondered for a moment, and then shrugged to himself.

"Pardon me, brother, but have do you know if, perhaps, one of your comrades was here a little while ago? I was...incapacitated...recently by someone who also wore dark armor and a cloak. I was wondering if you know who this person might be..."

[Huka]

Til stopped at the question and chuckled, "I know who you speak of, but I won't tell you his name..for your own protection. Trust me, he is not one to challenge. Enjoy yourself." Leaving, he made a journey back to his quarters to contact the Kaidon.

[kartoffelfogel]

Brushed off! Again! He was getting sick of this. Half the time he was harassed, and the other half he was ignored.

In a fit of fury, he threw the sack of trash at Til and snatched his broom up, and walked away in a huff.