Thirteen: Fighting Spirit of Steel

The Arbiter arrived at the Prophet's inner sanctum right as Rtas 'Vadumee was leaving. The other Sangheili nodded to him as he passed, though his guards did not, before the silver-armored Elite approached the Prophets.

"Politics, how tiresome," Truth sighed, "Did you know, Arbiter, that the Elites have threatened to resign? To quit the High Council? Because of this - exchange of hats?"

"We have always been your protectors," Thel 'Vadamee replied, shuffling his hooves slightly. Though he knew they were necessary and how to play them, he only rarely had patience for political games. As a people, Sangheili generally believed in solving disagreements with their swords.

"These are trying times for all of us," Truth conceded.

"Even as the humans' annihilation filled us with satisfaction, the loss of one of the Sacred Rings wracked our hearts with grief," Mercy interjected before Truth held up a hand to silence him.

"Putting aside our sorrow," the other Prophet said, "we renewed our faith in the promise that other rings would be found. And see how our faith has been rewarded."

He gestured to the ring spinning slowly in the void of space beyond the glass, and the Arbiter took a step back, only then realizing that this ring was, in fact, a Halo, nearly identical to the one at Threshold - the one whose destruction had cost him everything.

"Halo," Mercy said, with zeal borne of years of fervent worship, "Its divine wind will rush through the stars, propelling all who are worthy along the path to salvation."

"But how to start this process?" Truth said, stroking the strange fleshy lobes that dangled from his chin, "For ages we searched for one who might unlock the secrets of the ring... an Oracle. And with your help, we've found it." The Prophets guided him over to where 343 Guilty Spark was caught in a stasis field, preventing him from moving or speaking.

"With appropriate humility," Mercy said, "we plied the Oracle with questions, and it, with clarity and grace, has shown us - the key." He pushed a button on his throne, and an image of the Index appeared next to the helpless Monitor.

"You will journey to the surface of the ring," Truth told the Sangheili, "and retrieve this Sacred Icon. With it, we shall fulfill our promise-"

"Salvation for all!" Mercy interjected again.

"-and begin the Great Journey."

The Arbiter dipped his head to the pair and turned to go complete his task. Once the door sealed behind him, Mercy murmured to Truth, "Do you think he suspects?"

After a moment of silence, the other replied, "No. They all suspect nothing."

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The Sangheili boarded a Phantom bound for the surface of the ring, only half-listening as Tartarus spoke. "Once the shield is down, we'll head straight to the Library. I do not wish to keep the Hierarchs waiting."

He could no longer contain his curiosity and voiced a question that had been on his mind ever since he heard the news. "The human who killed the Prophet of Regret. Who was it?"

"Who do you think?"

"The Demons are here?"

Tartarus snorted an affirmative. "Why? Looking for a little payback?"

"Retrieving the Icon is my only concern," the Arbiter replied aloud, then thought to himself, 'Though I would very much love to pursue the beasts and give them a piece of my mind.'

The Jiralhanae at the helm chuckled as if he had heard what the Sangheili had not said. "Of course."

The Phantom soared toward the Sentinel Wall protecting the Library. There were signs of recent fighting everywhere; the wreckage of Sentinels themselves, along with splatters of neon blood from the Covenant. Yet when the Arbiter dropped from the Phantom, there was something else on the wind, something that made his hide shiver.

Then the sensation grew stronger, and he turned.

A Sentinel Enforcer rose up beyond the edge of the platform. It seemed ready to engage, but Tartarus beat it to the punch, firing the Phantom's turrets at it and convincing it to chase him rather than the Sangheili. "Lower the shield, Arbiter," he said as they both raced away, "I'll pick you up when you finish."

He acknowledged the other and turned to go, ducking under swarms of Constructors making repairs in wake of all the fighting. It seemed that there was only one way to advance through the wall: by activating a series of pistons and dropping inside, falling through curving passages through the construct. The piston paths were clearly not meant to accommodate organic life forms, but they did so just the same.

After a short but bumpy ride, he reached solid ground again. It seemed he had arrived in a chamber with a plasma conduit power generator, the energy stream running overhead through the center of the room. There was also a swarm of Sentinels chasing a few Jackals and Unggoy. Though his people disdained their cowardice, the other members of the Covenant were still his allies, and the Sangheili galloped forward to defend them.

When the Sentinels were destroyed, the smaller aliens followed him deeper into the Sentinel Wall, the Grunts huddling so close in his shadow that he almost tripped over them several times. Yet the Sangheili barely noticed, more focused on the faint scent that he kept getting occasional whiffs of. He defeated the Enforcer guarding one of the shield's power sources, and the scent came again, stronger - rot and decay, but strange.

Frightening.

The Arbiter deactivated the locks and opened the blast door, their platform moving along an unseen path toward the far side of the gulf. The stench of death was stronger now, but there were bodies all around him, corpses he ignored. They were dead; they were no threat.

Tartarus's Phantom came gliding over the Sentinel Wall and soared along next to the platform. "Our path to the Library is clear," he said over the radio, "I'll pick you up on the ledge ahead."

The blast doors before them slid back, revealing another Enforcer. "Blasted machines!" Tartarus cursed, jerking his Phantom back and away, "Make your own way through the wall, Arbiter!"

The Sangheili clicked his mandibles in irritation - then stopped. 'No, it can't be.'

It was. A Flood combat form leaped to the top of the platform and fired on him with its weapon. The Sangheili gunned it down with his plasma rifle while the surviving Unggoy ran around in terror. The Jackals at least were halfway useful and added their fire to his own. When it fell, flesh cooked from the heat, he approached as close as he dared, plasma rifle at the ready in case it got back up. 'An infected human,' he thought, 'It is not in a poor state - it has not been infected long. There must be a band of humans ahead of us, heading for the Library.'

He squeezed his mandibles, then chose speed over valor and abandoned the Sentinels to their fight with the Flood. He jumped through a hatch and raced ahead to close the distance between him and the humans. He followed the hall and activated another piston at the end.

It was only a short drop to the hall below. It stank of the Flood, the air so filled with spores that it seemed like green fog. He heard the hiss of Sentinel lasers and human gunfire ahead, so he raced forward.

It was only a handful of combat forms and the scattered remains of some Sentinels, so he kept moving, though slower than before. The presence of the Flood made it easy to believe that enemies could jump out of every shadow - and some Infection Pods did, in a chamber beyond. Rather than waste power, he stamped them to death with his hooves, then kept moving.

He made another controlled fall into the next room, where there was still more fighting between the Sentinels and the Flood. He fought his way through the waves of combat forms and the carrier forms that followed before he was able to drop through to the level below.

It opened up instantly. He was outside again, and there was a battle in progress between the Flood and an Enforcer and its supporting Sentinels. But this time someone seemed to be supporting them; a sniper was shooting the Flood from a distance with a weapon that made the corpses dissolve in swirls of glowing golden flakes. Whoever it was didn't seem to count him as a threat because they didn't fire on him as he ran for cover, just on the Flood.

'Commander.'

[Go ahead, Shields.]

'Arbiter's here.'

[Good. I'll be right in.]

When everything went silent, he left it for a minute, then slipped out from behind the pillar he'd used for cover. The Flood was all dead, most of it gone entirely - destroyed by the odd rifle no doubt - and the Enforcer wasn't even paying attention to him. He used its distraction to sprint across to the opposite housing, where he was swarmed by more Flood. There were only a few combat forms but they seemed more vicious than before, throwing themselves into battle whole-heartedly and trying harder to kill him.

The Arbiter pulled a similar tactic in the next room, though it grated at him to leave the battles unfought and foes unslain. But when he entered the next power conduit room, he was grateful he hadn't wasted his energy. The air was so thick with Flood spores that visibility was barely more than two body lengths in any direction, and cargo modules scattered about lent additional tension to the situation; Flood forms could - and did - leap out from behind them at any time.

Despite the tainted air, the Sangheili forced himself to take slow, deep breaths to calm his racing hearts. Then he kept moving through the chamber.

The Flood heard him and came to meet him in waves, and it took forever to kill the monstrosities. But he did, and kept going, dropping down another piston path further into the Sentinel Wall. As he fell, he couldn't help but wonder if at some point he would just keep falling into the structure of the ring itself. In truth, save perhaps falling in honorable battle, he could think of no better death than being lost in one of the holy rings.

Another contaminated room waited below, and another piston. He dropped down this one as well and found himself in an open chamber, a wide cavern set into the Sentinel Wall, with no means of continuing forward except by going down again. He traded out his weapons, replacing his plasma rifle for another with a higher charge, and switching the human pistol of a plasma sword from one of his fallen brothers, intoning a soft prayer as he activated it.

The Arbiter activated the next piston and fell through more of the curved paths - he was going to be quite heavily bruised at the end of this mission, and he would stink of Flood. He came to a stop on a crosspiece through the bottom and stayed for a moment, listening.

Wisely so, for the Flood howled as someone launched a plasma bombardment against them. When all was silent, he dropped to the floor at last and looked around. There was no sign of what had attacked the Flood, but a few of the parasites still remained. He cut them down with his brother's blade, then paused for a moment to admire the sight of the Library in the distance. The Forerunner's creation seemed as pristine as ever, lit with gold, despite the infestation.

"Arbiter Thel 'Vadamee."

He whirled around, blade raised - and stopped dead, then dropped to one knee. "Forgive me, Holy One. I did not realize - I will accept whatever punishment you see fit for raising my sword against you."

"Peace," said the Forerunner in the Sangheili tongue - for who else could it be? Who else had such magnificent and advanced armor? Who else could appear in such silence, with such skill, save one who had transcended to become a god? "There is no punishment where there has been no crime."

The god tossed him something, a wristband of some kind. He caught it and peered at it. It was made of the same silvery metal as the holy rings themselves, with a single glowing blue light at one point on it and other smaller lights that pulsed out rhythmically from the blue.

"Put it on," said the Forerunner, "It will mark you as friendly to the Sentinels, so long as you are not killed and infected by the Parasite. And be wary. Do not trust the Prophets, and do not turn your back on Tartarus."

The Sangeheili did as instructed, but when he looked up again, the god was gone, just as swiftly and silently as he'd come. He paused, then rose and bowed to the space where the god had been. Then he continued on.

At last he reached ground level beyond the Sentinel Wall. There were Flood there, of course, and as he began scything his way through them, Sangheili orbital insertion pods began landing all around him, at last bringing proper allies to fight alongside. With their help, he easily slew the Parasite and paused a moment to catch his breath.

"Forerunners be praised! The Arbiter!" One of the others came to stand before him and continued, "This Quarantine Zone has been compromised. We must do what we can against the Flood. Our commander has landed further in; let us join him."

The Sangheili nodded his head in agreement and led the way toward a small stretch of tunnel boring through the rock to another canyon. As they had said, there were more of their people beyond, including Rtas 'Vadumee. "Arbiter!" he called, "What are you doing here?"

Before he could answer, the howls of the Flood rose all around them, forcing them to stave off the Parasite until a Phantom arrived with a few more reinforcements, its plasma turrets blasting away the few remaining combat forms. When at last they had fallen, Thel approached the other Sangheili. "At the center of this zone," he told Rtas, "is a Sacred Icon critical to the Great Journey. I must find it."

Rtas nodded and clenched his fist. "We shall cut into the heart of this infestation, retrieve the Icon, and burn any Flood that stand in our way!" The other Sangheili roared their approval, and the SpecOps Commander said, "The Parasite is not to be trifled with. I hope you know what you're doing.

"Forward, warriors, and fear not pain nor death. Go, Arbiter; I'll follow when our reinforcements arrive."

The Phantom had dropped off a Spectre for them, and he jumped into the driver's seat, waiting for others to board before taking off. The remainder of the warriors took Ghosts and followed close behind. They all sped through the rusted-steel doors, following another short path through a small wall before they emerged into a machine shop. Enforcers and Sentinels dominated the fight, bombarding the Flood, but as the god had said, not one launched a single attack in the direction of the Spectre.

"Commander," one of the Sangheili cried, "we found a human vehicle!"

"Keep moving," was the reply, "I'm on my way."

They mowed through the enemy ranks and entered another stretch of tunnel before emerging in the open once more. They had arrived on a wide, spiral ramp covered in snow, and over the far side, they could see a human-controlled transport - a "Pelican", it was called - firing at the Flood alongside yet another Sentinel Enforcer and-

"Forerunners?!" one of the other Sangheili cried.

The gods were perched atop the wall that ringed the spiral ramp, some wielding the long black rifles that destroyed the Flood corpses, while others carried shorter weapons akin to Covenant carbines or human assault rifles, providing cover for the snipers. There weren't many of them, but they were gunning down the Flood with zeal, protecting both humans and Sangheili from the Parasite.

When the immediate area was clear - they vanished. Just jumped through swirling portals and disappeared like they had never been there at all.

"Such is the power of the gods!" another Sangheili chorused, "Soon we too shall follow in their footsteps and begin the Great Journey! It is as the Prophets have said!"

'Then why did the Holy One tell me not to trust them?' the Arbiter thought, but he said nothing, only kept moving forward. The Enforcers continued to ignore the Spectre, making for the Flood-controlled tanks instead - and also the Ghosts with the other Sangheili. "Stay close!" he called, hoping that the band would cover them as well.

It seemed to; they wove through the wreckage of an ancient battlefield and into another tunnel, where they found more Flood-controlled vehicles firing on Enforcers just outside a building that looked like it had been hit by a plasma bombardment, the metal of the ruined structure still glowing with heat, warmth they could feel even at a distance.

There was a human tank blocking their path, controlled by the Flood. The Arbiter popped the hatch on the Spectre and threw two plasma grenades, one after the other. The throws weren't perfect, but they did the job, adhering to the body of the tank and exploding, dealing enough damage that the vehicle rolled to a stop and broke down.

The other Sangheili commended him, but he waived off their praise in favor of moving forward. But they had no choice but to abandon the Spectre and proceed on foot into the wrecked structure, which was on fire and creaked and groaned as if it was in pain. It was not safe, but they had no choice. "Stay close," the Arbiter reminded them. He hesitated, then showed them the wristband. "I know not why, but one of the gods saw fit to give me this. It marks us as friends to the Sentinels and will let us pass them by."

A few of the younger warriors seemed in awe of it, but one of the elders was more practical. He snorted and nodded his head. "We need not destroy the Sentinels if they do not target us," he agreed, "Leave them to fight the Flood. Let us move."

The others formed up around him almost like an Honor Guard to stay in range of the band, and the Arbiter couldn't help but think of better times, when he was still a Supreme Commander in the Fleet of Particular Justice, when he had so many warriors at his beck and call. But that was a lifetime ago now, and the mantle of Arbiter was his to bear.

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'How's he doing? We lost visuals on him and the others when they went inside the building.'

[He's still alive, which is more than can be said for some. Moving up to the last canyon now. Once the Gravemind moves to High Charity, we'll actually be able to modify the Sentinels' targeting roster, take the Sangheili off.]

'That can't come soon enough.'

[Agreed.]

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The Arbiter let his Wraith slow to a stop and assessed the situation ahead, his remaining brothers bringing their Ghosts to halt alongside him. There were several Flood in Wraiths trying to guard a structure against three Enforcers and a small horde of normal Sentinels, and both sides were having a tough time of it. At last he said, "We will take the near side. That should turn the battle in the Sentinels' favor, so that they may eliminate the Parasite while we press on ahead. Time is of the essence."

"By your word, Arbiter," said one of the others.

So they did. The Ghosts took the risk of darting ahead to harry the tank and the enemy Ghosts that zipped out to support it, while the Arbiter swung his own tank around to launch plasma bombs at the Flood. When the enemy Wraith exploded, they all moved forward to fight the Flood inside the structure, where the fight was decidedly more lopsided; even the Flood died the same as they did when hit by superheated plasma.

When the area was as clear as it was going to get, they all hopped from their vehicles to head further in. But Thel paused at the side of a dead human combat form lying next to that of a Sangheili. Blasphemous though it was, he couldn't help but think, 'In the end, we are not so different, are we?'

The call of one of the other Sangheili made him lift his head and put aside his heretical thoughts. He led the way into the transport room, the other Sangheili somewhere behind him. Rtas caught up with him as they both charged up a ramp to the gondola controls, where another grinding caught their attention. The humans were launching another gondola from an adjacent tower. Rtas said, "They must be after the Icon as well."

Just as the Arbiter was about to start their own to give chase, the unearthly screeches of the Flood caught their attention again. The white-armored Ultra ignited his plasma sword and said, "On your way, Arbiter. I'll deal with these beasts."

He called two other Ultras to join him and raced away, blade at the ready. Thel said a soft prayer for the gods to watch over him, since they had made themselves known more times in the past few hours than the preceding hundred thousand years. Then he turned and activated the controls, sending him and the other Sangheili after the humans' gondola.

They glided across a gap in the Sentinel Wall, an ingress opening up before them as they approached the other side. A number of combat forms gathered on a platform on their forward left, and one of the Sangheili called a warning to the others as their gondola approached.

A shot lanced through the space and took out two of the combat forms on the platform, the bodies dissolving in a swirl of golden flakes. The rest shrieked in wrath; some even jumped too early and went plunging toward the ground far below, but more made it across. The Sangheili fought them down, then looked up.

One of the gods was perched on one of the cross-pieces overhead, wielding one of the long black rifles. "Hail, Sangheili," she greeted them in their own tongue, "My Commander has asked me to provide support, and I will do so gladly for as long as I can."

"We are honored, Holy One," the Arbiter replied, pressing his fist to his chest and inclining his head, a gesture which the other Sangheili mirrored.

But after that there was no time for talk. The Flood arrived in droves, charging up from somewhere below in the gondola, somewhere they could not reach. Thel hardly noticed when they began their ascent through the section of the wall, or even when the path leveled off again, so focused were they all on fighting the Parasite.

At last, as the last gateway opened up before them, the god called down to them, "Our paths diverge here. Fare thee well, warriors! May we meet again victorious!"

They roared their approval and raised their swords to her. She lifted her rifle to them, then jumped through another portal that opened before her.

As the gondola docked, one of the SpecOps Sangheili said, "We shall protect this vessel. It may be our only means of escape."

"Retrieve the Icon, Arbiter, for the Covenant and for the Journey!" said another.

The Arbiter ran on ahead into the curving hall beyond. There were Infection pods all over the place, along with countless bodies for them to take, but he had no time to deal with them. Instead he sprinted past them and to the very edge of the Index chamber, where the remains of an Enforcer lay smoldering on the deck. Then he activated his active camouflage and slipped inside.

Miranda looked around the Index chamber, searching for something to hold on to while she retrieved the Index from its holder. She couldn't do a full run through the Library like Blue Team had, in order to reach the Grand Lift that would take her down the "correct" way; she might have been the daughter of the woman who made the Spartans, but she wasn't one herself.

A torn cable seemed to be her best option; the casing on it wasn't as slippery as she expected and had a fair bit of grip to it. She tugged it a little closer to the Index and leaned out over the gulf, unaware of the invisible Spartan ready to step in at a moment's notice should Johnson not get there in time. Fortunately, he had nothing to worry about; the S-I caught hold of the cable a scant second after it began to slide. He growled, "You know, your father never asks me for help either."

"The Index is secure," Miranda said by way of a reply as she hooked the T-shaped Key to her belt, and Johnson pulled her back up to the platform.

"McKenzie, Perez, how's our exit?" he called to the Marines who were supposed to be guarding the door. When there was no response, he said, "You hear me Marines?"

Still no response.

He pulled his battle rifle off his back. "We've got trouble."

Miranda lifted her SMG to the ready position even as Johnson warily swept the room. Though they could not see the enemy, their intuition told them that it was there, a belief confirmed when the Arbiter leaped at Johnson out of the dark, roaring. Johnson cursed as he fired at him, trying to do some damage, but the Sangheili's shields absorbed the fire. Then the Elite ran at him again, and he dodged out of the way, and then again.

He came up more prepared and jammed his elbow into the Elite's side hard enough to wind him, sending him back a few steps, but the advantage was gone as fast as it had come. When he brought his BR around again, the Sangheili batted it out of his hands and slammed him up against a wall. "How you doin'," Johnson grunted, and the Arbiter roared again before throwing the human aside. Johnson hit the ground hard but still struggled to rise.

Gunfire hit the Sangheili's shields; Miranda had reclaimed her SMG and called for Johnson to stay down as she shot at the Arbiter. The Elite darted for cover, disappearing from view, and she called out to the sergeant.

It was no good; he was unconscious, but John ran an imperceptible scan to make sure he was still alive. He was.

The Elite leaped at Miranda as he had Johnson, lunging from out of the dark with a battle cry. He tore the SMG from her hands and threw her aside. She hit the ground not far from the other human and crawled for his fallen weapon, but before she got there, a crackling field of gravitational energy surrounded her, formed by the Fist of Rukt, then yanked her back into Tartarus's hands.

'Do not trust the Prophets, and do not turn your back on Tartarus.'

The Arbiter tensed in case he needed to attack, only vaguely hearing the Brute speak as the god's voice echoed inside his head. He was not even aware of the fact that he himself had spoken, only that the hormone humans called 'adrenaline' was rushing through his veins with every beat of his hearts, eyes flicking between the three Brutes that approached from before and either side.

"When the Prophets learn of this, they will take your head."

"When they learn?" he laughed, "Fool. They ordered me to do it."

Betrayal from the ones who were supposed to lead his people.

Betrayal from the ones who were supposed to guide them all on the Great Journey.

Just as the god had said.

A pulse from the Fist of Rukt blasted him backwards. He fell down into the depths of the Library, where a monster waited for him.