It was raining on High Charity right now, again at Ahkrin's request. As such, it would not seem strange to be wearing such a garment. "Evening," he drawled in the accent of a working-class Sangheili, born of a lower house. The guards at the gate seemed to slowly wake up to attention, obviously not expecting anyone. One reached down to his side as if searching for his weapon, and managed to get the wrong side. Obviously these guards were not competent ones. Hence why they were assigned to such a lowly post. "Access to the spire is restricted to the public aside from during festivals, sir," one of them apologised, clearly having the force the 'sir' out to the lowly being before him. Ahkrin reached into the folds of his coat, and drew out a small device the size of a button. He pressed it with his thumb softly, and the holographic ID he'd forged appeared, cutting through the night with its golden sheen. "I'm from the ministry," he told them in the same drawl as he passed the ID over for them to check. "I hear your spire's not working right." "That's right, and he's got a tower of hard-light behind him not operating properly too," the Sangheili he hadn't addressed joked badly, earning him a sharp jab in the side from his fellow. Ahkrin laughed heartily at the crudeness. "Very clever, sir," he falsely praised in that same idiosyncratic dialect. "Is everything in order regarding my credentials?" Finally the guard passed the ID back, nodding. "Be careful up there," he was told. "For all we know it could deactivate at any time." "I'll keep mostly to the real zones," Ahkrin assured them, referring to the small sections of the spire comprised out of metal rather than hard-light. "Shouldn't take no more than a few hours, sirs." "Head on up then," he was invited as the gate slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Ahkrin thanked them curtly, drawing his coat tighter around him and slowly beginning his long ascent up the spiralling spire of light. * * * "Not bad," Blademaster Katoth'ee finally conceded to Sorran as they ended their spar, each with a blade at the other's neck. Sorran would be a little more proud of that had Katoth'ee not decided to handicap himself by tying his right arm behind his back and obscuring one eye with a blindfold. "Swords mean little when put up against rifles," Sorran gasped, wiping sweat from his brow. They both stood in Katoth'ee's courtyard, watched over the by great Helios. The master warrior's gaze darkened at that little heresy. "Is that so?" he demanded, a small smile playing upon his lips as he untied his arm and tore the cloth from his head; although even older than Hem, Katoth'ee still possessed about him a ferocious aura that must have been utterly terrifying in his prime. He then turned to Hem, who was watching them with amusement from a small distance. "Show your pupil that is not so." Hem stood up with a wry grin across his face, before drawing out a plasma rifle and firing a volley of shots at his former tutor. Sorran yelped in surprise, staggering back to avoid to super-heated bursts as they surged towards the unarmored Katoth'ee. They never reached their target. Moving like a blur, Katoth'ee twirled his blade in an intricate circular motion until it almost looked like a solid circle. The plasma rounds smashed into the circle, pushed it back a little and was finally absorbed by the similar composition of the blade. Finally the Sangheili blademaster lowered his sword, energy discharging into the baked earth. Hem laughed, putting his rifle back in its nest. Katoth'ee merely stared at Sorran, challenge playing about his eyes, as the sword retreated into the hilt. "That's not a certified combat manoeuvre," Sorran grumbled lamely as his eyes averted the ancient Sangheili's striking-green gaze. "You're not in the Covenant army, boy," Katoth'ee chastised, throwing a small rock at his head. Sorran winced at the small blow. "When the High Councillor is touring the colonies and a rebel faction decides to try and kill him because they disagree with the policies he advocates, they won't be fighting according to protocol." Sorran smiled, but all the while wished that his job was as simple as protecting Restraint as he delivered speeches throughout the Covenant. Katoth'ee did not know the truth about the Great Journey. Not because he couldn't be trusted, that was certain. It was clear Hem trusted no one else in the world more than his former master. Rather, the reason the once-General had not been let in on their terrible secret was because Hem did not want to burden the few years Katoth'ee had left with a revelation that would crush the very religious man. So they had to be careful about what they said around him. Around the complex several of Katoth'ee permanent pupils could be seen walking through the pillars, watching the two honour guards who were visiting with curiosity. The Sangheili's home and academy was only a few hundred miles away from San, which was still visible in the distance. On the main-strip, you could traverse the distance in just under twenty minutes. "Hem, who is this boy you bring before me? Is Restraint also recruiting Unggoy fresh off the teat into his personal guard too?" Katoth'ee joked, and although Sorran felt a little offended by the Sangheili's words he could understand where he was coming from. To an outsider, seeing such an ill-trained honour guard must be an odd sight. "I was a friend of his father," Hem lied deftly, not hesitating for a second. "Just before he passed away last season, I promised him I would look after his only son and give him a good life. Sorran is trying sometimes, but he has a sharp mind which Restraint finds more useful than his skills with a blade." "I imagine," Katoth'ee laughed, patting Sorran on the back to show he was just kidding. "But there is a warrior within this one, most certainly. A few months and I can bring hit out, I guarantee." "We will see," Hem mused thoughtfully. "In these capricious worlds we live in, it is hard to commit to anything." "Take opportunities as they come," Katoth'ee lectured them both, slipping back into the familiar role of teacher. "For when you are old and facing your final few years like myself, you should be able to look back at your life and see one well lived." "Do you?" Sorran asked, wondering if the question was too personal. Katoth'ee thought for a moment, before nodding. "Yes... although it has not been completely without sorrow. But you must take the good with the bad, and treat fortune as a gift, not a right. I have been Lord General of the Covenant once upon a time, which is more than most can say." "Do you miss it?" Sorran continued his onslaught of questions. "Being in the Covenant, I mean." "I do," Katoth'ee confessed. "There is a certain camaraderie and sense of adventure that can only be found in the army, one I am sorry you will miss due to being in the guard, Sorran. Yet I am also glad for you, as you are free from the shackles of this terrible, senseless war with the humans. We have them on the run, yes, but we are also losing far too many of our own." "They are indeed a formidable foe," Hem agreed, walking over to them. "Were it not for their heresy, I would advocate their welcoming into our Covenant with open arms." "Bah, we have too many species as it is," Katoth'ee grumbled. "I remember when the Jiralhanae joined; now that was a tragic day. The species I had commanded be grounded to their homeworld for their barbarity suddenly uplifted by order of the hierocracy and inducted into our collective. We should just leave the humans be; the galaxy is more than large enough for us all." "Enough talk," Hem suddenly interrupted, drawing out his energy blade with an air of challenge. He looked at Katoth'ee, brow raised. "What say you, old man? Think you can still match your former pupil's hand?" "Hem, my old friend," Katoth'ee told his once-student with sympathy, unsheathing his sword once more. "Even when I am buried beneath the ground we now stand on, you willnot best me in swordplay. But if you insist on embarrassing yourself before your student, then I shall oblige." [i]Oh, this should be hilarious,[/i] Sorran thought to himself happily, finding a rock nearby and reclining on it in preparation for the show. * * *