Here's Part Nine, the story is warming up. Enjoy. [b]Part Nine - Immortal Repentance[/b] [i]Immortal Repentance Infirmary[/i] "My my my, this is indeed a potent poison." spoke the minor Prophet of Convalescence, as he shuffled towards the table upon which Sorran lay. Zharn nodded grimly. "Can it be purged holy one?" Zharn questioned of the Prophet, who's wise brow furrowed. Convalescence was old, even by the standards of the San 'Shyuum, but a lifetime of hurrying around on the battlefield as a medic of the Covenant had kept his body strong. Zharn admired the surgeon's independence, most Prophets used Gravity belts, or chairs at such an age. This one still used his own feet. "Of course it can, it is but a basic human substance, I think the humans call it 'Botulinum'. I was merely commenting upon the fact that the poison was powerful. Help me take off young Sorran's armour Major." Convalescence instructed, and Zharn gingerly assisted the Prophet in stripping Sorran of his cumbersome attire. The poisoned Elite Minor soon lay naked upon the surface of the table. "Do you wish that I should fetch a blanket, so as to cover up Sorran holy one?" Zharn questioned of Convalescence, who shook his head in protest. "No Major, I need to see his full body in order to see which areas have been affected most." the Prophet chastised. "But, what of the dishonour noble one?" Zharn refuted. "There is no dishonour in being healed Zharn. I often find myself wishing that the Sangheili would do away with their sense of honour, it makes my task only harder." Zharn flushed at the elderly Prophet's rebuke, knowing him to be right. "Of course holy one. Even as you say. Do you require my assistance further, or may I part?" "You may leave Zharn, I shall send a runner once Sorran has awoken. May the ancients guide you." the Prophet nodded, turning away from the Elite Major. "And lead us all upon the path." Zharn completed the ritual, marching out through the sliding doors of the infirmary. Ahkrin awaited on the other side, alert. "Well?" the Stealth Sangheili questioned of Zharn, who's shoulders rose. "Convalescence told me to come back later. The poison is not critical, Sorran will live." "'tis indeed good news, in these troubling times. Come, a Kig-Yar messenger came to me but a moment ago. The Zealot requests our presence." Ahkrin replied solemnly, and Zharn's head rose, curious. "The Zealot? Truly? Why bother himself with ones such as us?" "Perhaps he has heard about your triumph over the Demon." Ahkrin mused doubtfully. "Have you told any of the encounter?" Zharn questioned, suspicious. "Well, nay, but perhaps one of the Brutes upon the Phantom overheard us." There was a pause, as Zharn thought about the situation. "Perhaps. We shall soon discover the truth ourselves, let us go Ahkrin. Where is the Zealot?" Ahkrin shrugged, puzzled. "I'm not entirely sure brother; I presume he would be in the officer's living quarters." replied the Stealth Sangheili, and Zharn sighed exasperatingly. "Not entirely sure? Ahkrin, the [i]Immortal Repentance[/i] is colossal. We could spend all week searching for the honoured Zealot." the Major cried out. "I'm sure we can find one of the Honour Guard to lead us to him Zharn, worry not. Let us move, Sorran isn't going anywhere." "By your word, Ahkrin." Eventually, an hour later, the two Sangheili stumbled into the Zealot's quarters, tired. Zharn had been right, it had taken a long time to find the ship master of the [i]Immortal Repentance.[/i] They found the Zealot to be standing by an observation window, deep in thought. Zharn looked at Ahkrin nervously, wondering if they should announce themselves. There was no need. "Major Zharn, Operative Ahkrin. It's good to see you." the Zealot spoke , turning around. Zharn nodded uneasily; he'd never met the Sangheili before in his life. "You beckoned us great one?" Ahkrin asked in a timid tone of voice he usually reserved for the Prophets themselves. "I did. I heard about what happened at the outpost. I'm sorry for your losses, would it that I could have sent reinforcements in time." the Zealot apologised, and Zharn nodded sadly, narrowing his eyes to slits at the same time. The high ranking Sangheili hadn't called them merely to convey condolences. "Thank you, noble one." Zharn replied suspiciously. "But I did not call you here for that. The truth is, the Prophets have commanded this ship to stage an attack upon a human city on 'Eridanus II'. It is a small one, yet it produces many weapons and vehicles the humans need. I would lead the attack myself, but I don't trust anyone to command the [i]Repentance[/i] in my absence, and my Sub Commander is getting a little too defiant. I need to keep an eye upon him." the Zealot told both Zharn and Ahkrin, who nodded. "Of course noble one. But, if I may be so impertinent as to ask, what does this have to do with us?" Ahkrin questioned boldly. "Everything. I heard about how you invaded a human base on your own, to save a fellow warrior. Zharn, I wish you to command the attack, with your friend Ahkrin under you. If the one named Sorran is recovered by then, take him along too. You leave in a week." "But noble Zealot, I am a mere Major, not permitted to command such an operation. As a Stealth Sangheili, Ahkrin may be qualified, but I am not." Zharn protested, and the Zealot smiled, nodding. "Which is why I put your name forward for a promotion to Ultra, and it has been approved. Congratulations are in order Zharn, Sangheili Ultra. Go down to the armoury, and you shall find that I have prepared you a set of new armour, as well as your own Energy blade." Zharn stood there, speechless, his mouth open in shock. He couldn't utter a word, all his life he had dreamed of becoming an Ultra, like his late father. And now, his wish was fulfilled. "You're catching flies Zharn." Ahkrin commented wryly, nudging him. Zharn snapped out of his stupor, and bowed to the Zealot. "Thank you noble one, you have no idea what an honour this is." the now Ultra thanked, stuttering slightly. The Zealot smirked. "Oh, I think I do. Go Zharn, collect that which is your right. And never let it be said that Thel Vadam'ee does not reward those faithful to the path." Ahkrin and Zharn bowed in respect, and left the chamber. "You know what this means, don't you?" Zharn asked of Ahkrin as the two walked past the Honour Guards, exiting the Zealot's rooms. "That you finally achieved your lifelong dream?" Ahkrin guessed, smiling. "Well, yes, but it also means that I'm of a higher rank than you now. I can command you as I will." Zharn told the Stealth Sangheili, who laughed with mirth. "Ah, Zharn, my friend. Try that, and I'm afraid that even our bond shall not stay my blade from entering your throat." ******************* [I]: > 0430 Hours, September 15, 2530 (Military Calendar)/ UNSC Planet Eridanus II/ Delta Base[/i] "The prisoner escaped?!?" "It would seem so Ambassador Errand. The best we can tell, two other Elites infiltrated the base, and escaped with him." "And Spartan 078?" "MIA sir, the Super Intendant class AI has footage of him being thrown off the cliff by one of the Elites. There's no possible way he could have survived." Errand ran a hand across his face, trying to think. What would ONI say when they heard one of their golden boys, one of Halsey's pet freaks, had been killed? It certainly wouldn't do him any favours. Of course, he wasn't an Ambassador. Nor was his name even Errand. That was an alias he was known by throughout non military personnel. The marines and Navy knew him as Colonel Errand. James Ackerson was forever careful to keep his true identity a secret. It wouldn't matter in the future, not if his [i]own[/i] project was approved by Section III. But for now, every single Spartan was a gold mine. Precious and finite. "Damn it. Any idea where the Elites went?" Ackerson growled at the technician, who shook his head. "Negative Ambassador, a Phantom picked them up, and jumped ship through slip space above atmosphere. They could be anywhere." "I guess they won this round then." Ackerson sighed, sitting down. He hated the fact that the Covenant were more advanced than humanity. As he reached for his cold glass of lager on the table, a speaker in the corner blared. "Ambassador Errand sir; I've got someone here you might want to see. It's him sir, the Spartan." a women's voice called, and Ackerson's face brightened considerably. At least Vice Admiral Parangosky wouldn't have his head now. "Show him in. Rogers, you're dismissed." Ackerson ordered, and the technician left his office, a little disappointed. As he left, a huge figure entered. The Spartan looked rough. A huge welt covered the left hand side of his face, and one of his eyes was puffy and black. His armour was covered with dirt, grime, and general tarnish. The super soldier's mouth was bloodied and swollen. One of the Spartan's arms was bent backwards at an unnatural angle. Still, 078 somehow managed to salute at Ackerson. "Sir, Spartan 078 reporting." Ackerson scowled; he hated each and every one of the Spartans. Freaks, the lot of them. Still, he had an alias to keep up, and 'Errand' harboured no resent against the Spartans. So Ackerson forced himself to smile. "Good to see you son. What happened?" Ackerson spoke. "The Elite took me by surprise, collapsed a wall on top of me. I was weakened, and it managed to throw me off the cliff." "That's a change, you Spartans are usually the ones with success." Ackerson commented bitterly, and 078 frowned.