"I--" Orpheus began, before he was violently interrupted by the sudden eruption of sound from one of the Longsword's radios. "[i]--the March of Righteousness. Do you receive?[/i] a Sangheilian voice questioned, accentuated by a cascading wave of static. One of the Unggoy lunged for the transceiver, and brought it up to his mouth. "Receiving," he squeaked in a weary voice. There was a delay for a few seconds, before the voice replied. "[i]Who is aboard your... vessel?[/i] the Sangheili questioned suspiciously, and Ahkrin took this opportunity to take the archaic radio from the Unggoy and speak himself. "Operative Ahkrin, of the house Descol'ee," Ahkrin rasped over the radio with a voice worn out by weeks of hardship. A longer pause, this time. "[i]... Descol'ee. I didn't know there were any of you left.[/i]" "You'll know soon enough when I wrap my hand around your throat unless you clear us for docking, communications officer," Ahkrin threatened, and he heard a light chuckle on the other end of the frequency. "[i]That's sub-commander, actually. I would advise against wrapping your hand around[/i] my [i]throat, operative,[/i]" the Sangheili answered, and Ahkrin felt his heart constrict. Orpheus was making a small strangled noise. "Forgive me, noble one. I thought you were a communications--" "[i]I know. Worry not, I have made the same mistake in the past. I shall send two Seraphs to safely escort you to this ship, although I must warn you that you will be met by an armed lance of warriors just in case. Once you're properly aboard, they'll take you to me for debriefing.[/i] "... Of course. Again, I'm sorry for the mistake." "[i]It is forgotten. I will see you soon, operative.[/i]" The radio connection terminated, and Ahkrin softly placed it on the ground. He looked at Orpheus, who had been holding a large breath which he gradually exhaled. "Is there a single person in the Covenant you haven't issued a death threat, Ahkrin?" "Of course... on some distant border planet, probably. Do not hold me to that, though." * * * "You're a long way from home, Sorran," Hem spoke as he found Sorran staring down at the planet High Charity was currently draining resources from, from one of the many ridges of the station. The emptiness of space surrounded him, his only protection from the vacuum a thin shield blanketing High Charity. Streams of plasma jetted from the underside of the stations, slamming through the thin atmosphere of the lifeless rock and tearing the ground asunder. Mining Scarabs sailed down from the colossal holy station to collect the resources thrown up by the digging. "I needed to clear my head," he answered, looking out at the universe. It made him feel better. Compared to that infinite space, he was nothing. Nothing in this galaxy was. Where once this thought may have depressed him, now it imbued him a little. Once again his mind turned to the dream he'd had last night. "You've been doing that a lot lately," Hem interrupted his train of thought, leaning on the hard-light balcony adjacent to Sorran. The older Sangheili had begun wearing a lighter variant of the honour guard's attire, due to his age. "You're not happy." "I'm dead," Sorran answered with a biting laugh, kicking his foot against the bottom rung of the balcony. The hard-light shimmered and contorted around the impact, like ripples in a still pond. "Everyone who cared about me thinks I'm dead." "It must be hard," Hem agreed sympathetically. He looked at Sorran. "Did you have a mate prior to your 'death'?" Sorran shrugged, turning away. "Not as such. I had met someone, though. Her name's Savara, and she's perfect. And for some reason she liked me. I can't think why, I was never a great warrior or anything special. Just a Sangheili minor who got caught up in events beyond his control, and now look. I'm plagued by a secret I wish I never knew. Why did Restraint tell me?" "Because he's dying," Hem interjected sharply, and Sorran felt his hearts skip a beat. He stared at the older Sangheili. "What?" he asked unnecessarily, because he'd heard perfectly. Hem was looking at him grimly. "The Minister's health has always been precarious. He came from a flawed gene pool, and whilst his mind is amazing, his body has always been faulty. The physicians say in his body, a group of abnormal cells are multiplying uncontrollably. It's rare, but can occur." "Why did he not tell me?" "He didn't want you worrying on his behalf. He's a very selfless man," Hem answered with admiration. "Can it not be cured?" Sorran asked, his stomach sinking. Hem shook his head. "Not by us. The humans know how to; they call it cancer. Ironic, isn't it? That despite all our advanced technology and knowledge, the humans probably know more than us with regards to how the universe works." "So why not just capture a human physician and have him cure the Minister?" Sorran questioned. "The Minister is too far along for that. We only found out a few months ago that the humans had a cure for 'cancer,' and this cure is ineffectual at the stage Restraint is at. I too am old, and do not have many years left. That is why the Minister needed someone to pass the truth of Halo along to." "Me," Sorran realised, and the weight of the world came crashing down upon him. "How long does Restraint have?" "A bit less than a year, maybe," Hem answered despondently, glancing around. A kig-yar walked past them at a distance with aloof grace, seemingly unperturbed by the two Sangheili honour guards. His face was shrouded by a hood. Hem waited until he positive the kig-yar was out of ear-shot, and then continued. "It could be decades before the right time to reveal this secret comes. And he and I will be long-gone by then. It will all be on you, Sorran." "I can't. You'll have to find someone else. I'm just--" "It [i]has[/i] to be you, Sorran. The fewer who know about Halo for now the better. Restraint and I exhausted ourselves and a considerable amount of wealth doing an extensive background check into you. You're not an honour-obsessed warrior, and you have an open and intellectual mind; few Sangheili are like that, and fewer are trustworthy as you are." "I only ended up here because I was conscripted into the army by Truth's edict. I'd still be in the library otherwise," Sorran protested, and Hem laughed. "Fitting that his edict will bring about his doom. Sometimes, to change the world, all it takes is the right person in the right place at the right time. It looks like you're that person, Sorran. My apologies." "This isn't fair," Sorran still argued weakly. Hem shrugged. "That's life. Worry not, Sorran. Restraint still has some time left and will tell you more. And I will train you to defend yourself and the secret you carry even after he has gone. You will be prepared." The plasma stream stopped, and silence was left in its wake. Sorran gripped the hard-light balcony tightly. "I came up here to escape all this. And now you're piling even more on me. You are terrible at cheering others up, Hem." "You are not the first to say so," Hem laughed, patting Sorran on the back affectionately. "Come, let us draw away from these melancholy thoughts and have ourselves a drink. I would like to get to know you better, if you are to be my pupil in the years to come."