"It's always so, isn't it? We rely on the Forerunners far too much. What if one day their technology ceases to work, or if it turns against us? Say what you want about the humans, but you cannot fault their innovation. Where we simply found the secrets to slipspace travel, they [i]invented[/i] their own! It may not be as efficient, but it is their own. What can [i]we[/i] claim as [i]our[/i] own, Jajab? Mathematics, science; all things that humans have but we do not. When we encounter a problem we do not set our minds to it, we simply turn to the Forerunners for help." The Unggoy frowned, before placing a small hand on his chest, signalling for him to lie back. "You're delirious Sorran; it's possible your wounds have become infected." Sorran was about to reply angrily, when suddenly the world blurred slightly, and a feeling of intense pain shot through his head. "Be that as it may," he replied sluggishly. "It doesn't make my point any less valid." "The Forerunners chose us as their successors," Jajab began slowly. "You still believe that, even knowing the truth about the 'sacred' rings?" Sorran asked bitterly, wincing once again as the deep welts in his skin had pressure applied to them. Jajab hesitated. "I know that the Forerunners existed, and I believe that they had a plan for us all," the worn old Unggoy answered slowly. "Do you not?" [i]Do I?[/i] Sorran asked himself, realising that he had never really posed the question to himself before. But the answer came to him instantly. "No." "That's blasphemy," Jajab replied matter-of-factly. "Not even Restraint is so skeptical about the Forerunners. The sacred rings may not be the key to our salvation, but that does not mean--" "You're entitled to your beliefs, Jajab. But after all I have learnt, and seen... the Forerunners were simply mortal beings like us. Advanced, certainly, but not gods." "I fear that you may be the only Sangheili to hold that view," Jajab told him sadly, before applying a sedative patch to his arm. "The day will come when all learn the truth," Sorran replied sleepily as the drug seeped through his skin and oozed into his blood stream. "And then we shall all be free." * * * * * * * * * * [i]Restraints bound his wrists and legs as he hung in the air, dishonoured before all. He had been stripped down of all clothing, and a burning mark of shame covered his beaten chest. A shadowy figure glided towards him, execution-sword held in hand. [/i]Crack![i] a noise like thunder sounded. "This is what happens when you sympathise with humans," the Prophet of Truth snarled, before bringing up the sword and sinking it into his--"[/i] Zharn awoke with a shriek, and found himself nestled in rough foliage underneath a shoddy make-shift shelter. Rain poured through the gaps, trailing down his body and diluting the cold sweat he had broken out in. He was panting heavily, shaken. "Zharn, you imbecile! Do you want to bring them down upon us?" Ahkrin's voice hissed as he stormed into the tent, eyes and sword ablaze. Zharn was still shaking. "W-what?" he asked in an unsteady voice. Ahrkin tilted his head, peering down at Zharn curiously. "Are you okay?" Zharn forced himself to stop shaking, and prised himself away from the floor which was moist with rain and sweat, standing up. His loose garments, which he usually wore under his armour, were stuck to his clammy body. "I'm fine. Just a bad dream. Bring [i]who[/i] down upon us?" Ahkrin glanced skyward up at the shelter's patched roof with a worried expression. "The humans. Our fleet at this planet has been destroyed, my brother," Ahrkin told him sombrely. Zharn snapped out of his daze immediately. "Their ships destroyed an Assault Carrier, two CCS-class Battlecruisers and four corvettes? They must have suffered grave losses as a result," Zharn answered, reaching for his armour, which lay in a heap on the ground covered by leaves. Dirt marred its unshielded surface The next words spoken by Ahrkin made him halt in his tracks. "Eight human ships came. Only one was destroyed." "Impossible!" Zharn exclaimed as soon as his friend had finished his sentence. "Alas, the good special operator speaks the truth, noble Ultra," Orpheus' voice rumbled in a low crescendo as he stepped through the mouth of their shelter. "We watched, amazed as eight of their ships -- not even the largest ones -- managed to outmaneuver our own and turn what I thought would be a decisive victory for us into a tragic loss." Ahkrin's jaw clenched as he heard the Jiralhanae speak, but managed to force himself to add to Orpheus' input. "They've sent down their Falcons and Pelicans to secure the surface. Without support from the skies, we cannot win. All the long-range transmission equipment was in the fleet. It's possible that they managed to send a message to High Charity before they were destroyed, but I doubt it. The humans know how to jam our communications for a short while, and the battle took them less than twenty minutes." "Why did you not wake me up sooner?" "The humans only achieved victory a few minutes ago. I'd seen the ships exit slipspace before that, but never did I think eight ships would be able to defeat our own. We must leave and find transport, and tell the rest of the Covenant that--" Their words were drowned out by the sound of whirring blades high up in the air. The three rushed out of the shelter and looked up. A human Falcon hung high in the air above the trees of the expansive forest they were in, and it was soon joined by several others. Flood lights were spread out through the dark trees, threatening to reveal their camp. "[i]Every Covenant bastard cowering in those trees had better come out of hiding immediately and surrender themselves to my troops, or I swear to your hateful gods that I will nuke the entire province![/i]" a chilling voice boomed out of one of the Falcons through a sound system mounted on the bottom. A voice that sent shivers down every member of the Covenant's spine. A voice that signalled crushing defeat, or incomprehensible loss. A voice belonging to a human who was a better tactician than even the Supreme Commander. "Admiral Cole," Ahkrin stated unnecessarily, his voice carrying a despondent air. Zharn nodded, eyes downcast. When Cole commanded a fleet and won, there was no escape. Cole meant death. Except he was offering a surrender. It was very unlike him. "What do we do?" Orpheus asked, knowing that there was only really one answer. Zharn sighed, thinking. He could hear human voices in the distance, shouting. "There is only one thing that we can do. Find the nearest humans and surrender."