"Surely you jest; do you not know where I used to work? Someone shall recognise me!" Sorran protested in terror. Hem chuckled, shaking his head. "Which is why you shall wear this." The Elder Honour Guard tossed something in Sorran's direction, which the younger Sangheili deftly caught. He brought the object before his eyes, and saw a round, spherical helmet; a scarlet red with golden t-blam!-s. "Pretty," Sorran appraised, placing the helm on his head. The Sangheili looked into the mirror, only to see an emotionless mask stare back at him. The helmet completely masked who he was; the mouth guard even covered his mandibles. "And efficient. When speaking, try to change your voice a little. Put on an accent akin to those some on the colonies wear. If all goes well, you could stand speaking to your own father and he wouldn't recognise you!" Hem remarked, and Sorran's gaze from within his helm grew cold. "My father is dead, as is all my family." The older Sangheili's expression grew apologetic and sombre. "My condolences and apologies young one, I did not know," Hem told Sorran, who shrugged. "It matters not. That was a different life, belonging to a now dead Sangheili. I must move on, if I am to stay sane." Hem stared at Sorran with a look of impressed respect, before turning towards the doorway. "I shall leave you to prepare in peace. Restraint expects us in the lower quarters within the hour. Anything else you wish to speak to me about?" Sorran sighed, gathering his new shoulder pads, affixing them slowly to his slight arms. "Not particularly. I can't help but wonder about Zharn and Ahkrin; they have a tendency to get themselves into trouble. Don't misunderstand me; they are formidable warriors, each in their own right -- but sometimes they can get in over there heads when they don't have a wise mouth to lend them consul," he poured out to Hem, his tone wistful. The Elder Sangheili nodded slowly, with a reassuring smile on his face. "You worry too much young one. I'm sure your friends are perfectly okay, no doubt returning victorious from another battle." * * * * * * * * * * * * * "What do you see Ahkrin?" There was silence from the Stealth Sangheili for a few moments. "Trouble. Of the demonic variety," Ahkrin reported solemnly, prompting a stare from Zharn. "Pass me the binoculars, I wish to see for myself." Wordlessly and ashen faced, Ahkrin passed Zharn the small device. The Ultra crawled between a gap in a large rock, and brought the goggles to his eyes, surveying the outside of the warehouse in the distance. He then saw it. The flash of an orange visor standing tall amongst the otherwise blue visors of the ODSTs. Breathlessly, Zharn ducked back behind the rock, facing Ahkrin with a grimace. "A Demon is here?" he questioned unnecessarily. Ahkrin smiled darkly. "Not [i]a[/i] Demon, [i]the Demon.[/i] The very same you supposedly killed back at the human base a while ago," the Stealth Sangheili corrected with a sigh. Zharn frowned doubtfully. "Impossible Ahkrin, not even one of the Sharquoi could have survived such a grave fall as the one the Spartan experienced. How do reach this unlikely conclusion?" the Ultra demanded. Ahkrin rolled his eyes, as if he were annoyed that he had to explain himself. Arrogance incarnate. "The number on the Demon's chestplate matches that which was displayed across the helmet you took as a trophy. The Demon you fought and the figure by the warehouse are one and the same." "You remember the number?" "I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't. So, glorious leader, how do you propose we steal back that which is rightfully ours under the watchful gaze of the Demon?" Zharn let out a deep breath he hadn't enough known to be holding. The human infidels on Eridanus II had somehow managed to get their heretical hands on a Covenant technology cache en route from High Charity to the 7th fleet. The technology was well encrypted, but everyone knew that the humans could be deviously intuitive at times. They would eventually find a way to reverse engineer the technology, which could give them significant advantages, such as energy shielding, and perhaps even blue prints for plasma weapons. That couldn't be allowed to happen. "I am unsure. I bested the Spartan once, but that was down to luck, and the fact he was already weakened. Perhaps we should listen in to their conversations, perhaps it would give us an idea of what we face." Ahkrin nodded, bringing out sound sensitive equipment. When activated, it would allow the two Sangheili to hear everything the humans by the warehouse said to each other. If they so wished, they could hear a spider on the other side of the valley spinning its web. After a few moments, the equipment was activated. Zharn patched his suit in to its frequency so he could hear. "...we're too exposed out here," one of the human marines, a private, grumbled, kicking the ground. Another taller, smug looking character dressed in officer's clothing gave the private a stare that could have burnt through a Hunter's shield. "Are you questioning my tactical decisions private?" Instantly, the private cringed -- he evidently hadn't thought anyone but his friend would hear him. "No Colonel Errand sir..." the private trailed off, after giving a pathetic excuse for a salute. The human Colonel named Errand sneered in contempt, before turning to face the Demon. "038, how far away is the heavy lifting VTOL?" the Colonel muttered, speaking quietly. The other marines wouldn't be able to hear him, but Zharn and Ahkrin could. "About an hour Colonel Ackerson," the Spartan replied curtly. Zharn frowned in confusion. [i]Ackerson?[/i] Just a moment ago, another marine had called him Errand. [i]How odd. Perhaps it is a human thing.[/i] Zharn turned to Ahkrin, expression bleak. "We have less than an hour to secure the cache and call in the Reaver." Ahkrin scowled. "I know that! Why can't we just bring in reinforcements?" The Stealth Sangheili sounded stressed, and Zharn could tell he was thinking hard. "No possible way. Humans have AA turrets all around this area of the planet -- only a Stealth Reaver is fast and quiet enough to make it through -- they are hardly troop transports." "Then we are alone." "For now? Yes." Ahkrin poked his head above the rock once again, scanning the surroundings. A short while later, he faced Zharn again, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Worry not. I have a plan."