* * * The last ship in Cole's retreating fleet staggered into a hastily torn void-sundering. Azure streaks fired from the victorious Covenant fleet until the last moment, when the void closed itself up at the human fleet completely vanished. "Forerunners be damned!" Subsidiary Commander Xatan'ee cursed, pounding the wall near him heavily before toppling over a table. "We lost them." "The humans had long since killed most of the Covenant aboard during the mutiny anyway," Ahkrin assured his newly-met superior, surprised at Xatan'ee's reaction to such an inconsequential thing in the grand scheme of the Journey. It was like something Zharn would do. "Give the order: slowly kill every human still breathing on that planet, and then burn it to ashes" Xatan'ee ordered fiercely to his second, who nodded grimly before leaving the room. [i]Okay, that is something Zharn would [/i]never[i] do,[/i] Ahkrin blinked, surprised at the ruthlessness of the subsidiary commander. He coughed delicately, and finally gained Xatan'ee's attention. "Ah, operative," he remarked calmly, as if he'd only just now noticed Ahkrin was standing there and as if he hadn't just hurled a solid table across the entirety of his quarters. Ahkrin knew that was he was about to say wasn't smart, but that was pretty much the definition of most things he said. "Your order seems a little... brutal, if you do not mind me saying noble one," Ahkrin told Xatan'ee as nonchalantly as possible, trying the best he could to make it not sound condescending. He failed. The sub-commander's jaw tightened, and his fists clenched. "They cast the first stone," Xatan'ee breathed heavily, eyes dilated and narrow with rage. "Killing our warriors in cold blood when they promised sanctuary. It is a favour to the galaxy to stamp every last remnant of these vile vermin out, operative. Do you not agree?" "Of course," Ahkrin answered nervously, worrying the sub-commander would draw out the sword at his belt and try to detach his head from his body if he said otherwise. "But I would prefer to do so when said vermin were themselves armed." [i]Wait... no I wouldn't. I'm just playing devil's advocate here as I always do, and I probably shouldn't with this man.[/i] Xatan'ee shrugged. "They are all heretics, and thus have no honour. My own would not be the slightest bit affected were I to kill every last child of theirs as soon as it left the womb. It would be doing their sinful souls a favour, I think. But I digress. Would you care for something to eat?" "I think I'm too tired to eat, noble one... where's the fleetmaster, if you do not mind me asking?" "Dead," Xatan'ee answered dully, not even trying to put some pretence of remorse into his voice. "He fell from a flight of stairs when our ship was rocked by human fire and broke his neck. Not a very heroic end for such a seasoned war veteran, sadly." "Oh. I'm sorry," Ahkrin answered, and he truly meant it. Because that meant Xatan'ee would inherit the title, being sub-commander. "May I retire and give you my debriefing tomorrow, great one?" Ahkrin asked, eager to get away from this sadist. Xatan'ee frowned. "But you'll miss the executions," he pouted. "Yet I can see you're tired. Don't worry, I'll save a few for you to kill yourself tomorrow. No doubt you're eager for revenge." "There's really no need--" Ahkrin began to protest, backing away a little. Xatan'ee didn't seem to notice his discomfort, grinning. "Nonsense. You escaped hell with your superior, and deserve recognition for that. I'll have the humans trussed and tied with breakfast tomorrow." Ahkrin laughed along with what he thought was a joke. Xatan'ee frowned, asking him what was funny. Ahkrin blinked twice, before swiftly making his leave. * * * Zharn glared angrily at Ahkrin from his bed, as the stealth operative entered the infirmary tenatively, wearing sheepish expression. Zharn balled his fists, nails digging into his palm painfully. "You," was all he could bring himself to say, throwing as much animosity into his sore voice as possible. "Me," Ahkrin agreed, taking a seat next to him. "I brought you flowers." "No jokes, Ahkrin. What you did is unforgivable," Zharn snapped, moving to get up and finding himself unable to do so, his arm wrapped in a cast as it was. Ahkrin looked at it pointedly, nodding. "I figured it would be a good time to apologise, since you can't wrap your hands around my throat right now. Zharn... perhaps it is unforgivable, but at least you [i]can[/i] forgive if you so choose. Had you died on that ship saving the doomed Covenant on it though, I would never have had the option to forgive myself." "How very poetic," Zharn remarked dryly, staring angrily at Ahkrin. The longer he stared at his life-long friend, though, the more his anger faded until eventually the raging inferno became a simmering flame. He looked away. "Is Orpheus alive?" "Yes. I know how much you love him so, and thus did my best to keep him safe," Ahkrin muttered wryly. Zharn rolled his eyes, grinding his teeth. Finally, he sighed. "I know you were just trying to save me--" "-- once again," Ahkrin could not help but interrupt despite his attempts at reservation. Zharn silenced him with a murderous stare, before continuing. "And although I cannot forgive you yet... I will not kill you. Unless you really did bring flowers." "I couldn't find any," Ahkrin lamented falsely, looking down with a melancholy gaxe. "But I did bring chocolate." "Chocolate?" Zharn questioned curiously, turning his head sorely to look at the small violet box in Ahkrin's hands. It was inscribed with human writing. "You've never had chocolate?" Ahkrin uttered with mock indignation. "I'm fairly sure that the procurement of chocolate from the humans is the only positive this war has brought. It's delicious. Here, try a piece. And then I can tell you about the psychotic sub-commander who is about to inherit control of this fleet." * * * "They're moving in," Hem told Restraint, who nodded as he stared out at the quiet night sky of High Charity, and the ever-active Forerunner Dreadnought that had for so long been the centre piece of their religious doctrine. "It seems the hierocracy won't wait for my cancer to take me," he observed sadly, shaking his head. "Begin his training tomorrow. I will make preparations for after we are gone, should what we fear come to pass."