Seventeen: Steel Nation's Decree

Thel 'Vadam was tired. If anyone had asked, he would have denied it, projected an aura of unending strength, but in his hearts, he was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of politicking, tired of everything. Five human years he'd spent trying to keep Sanghelios - and all Sangheili - from flying apart at the seams after the collapse of the Covenant. Even with the death of Sali 'Nyon and Jul's surrender, there seemed to be no end of bad news.

And now this.

"Arbiter! A Forerunner fleet has entered the system!"

He contained a weary sigh with a clench of his mandibles. "Have they tried to communicate with us? Made any demands?"

"Not yet, Honored One."

"Then we will reserve judgement until they do," he said, "but keep our weapons near. Have a rendering ready - I wish to see these vessels."

"By your word."

The signal officer left the room, and Thel took a moment to let his shoulders sag - though only for a moment. Then he finished pulling on his armor and headed out to the command post.

Many Sangheili were murmuring amongst themselves when he entered, looking at the visuals streaming in from one of their cruisers in orbit. The fleet was small, which he hadn't expected, but "small" was relative. The largest ship was easily twice the size of Long Night of Solace, and it was escorted by what he assumed were two destroyers and two cruisers. They settled into an extremely high altitude orbit at what the humans would have called a "Lagrange Point".

Then - "Arbiter, we're being hailed."

"On screen."

A human appeared, wearing Forerunner armor. Thel didn't recognize him - until he opened his mouth. "Arbiter," said the Demon, "Good to see you. Sorry about all the guns - we weren't one hundred percent sure what the situation was like on the ground, and thought it better to be prepared."

"Spartan," he returned, pleased, "It is good to see you hale as well. The other Spartans were concerned; I gathered that you were gravely injured."

The Demon inclined his head. "In a manner of speaking. But unfortunately this isn't purely a social call. We have intelligence for you - since personally I doubt the UNSC will get around to informing you - and supplies as well." He glanced at something - or someone out of view. "And a number of medics who can heal your people without shedding their blood and so dishonoring them, if that's still a thing."

"We are working on it," said Thel, "but come, and be welcome. I am eager to hear what is so important it merits you coming personally."

The Demon's lips pulled up in a faintly bitter smile. "If only it were good news," he said, "See you on the ground."

-------------------------------------------

The "Lifeworkers" moved quickly. By the time the Demon came down himself, word of them, their Huragok, and their seemingly miraculous healing abilities had spread beyond the keep; Thel wouldn't have bet against it reaching most of the planet by now. Still, they were treating the Swords of Sanghelios and their allies first, making obvious who had their favor. With his permission, they had launched more than a few transports to other combat zones as well, to treat the wounded.

Then the Demon arrived, and ripples spread through the hall. Though his armor was Forerunner now, it was still unmistakably one of the Spartans' "MJOLNIR" sets, and he was - of all things - unarmed.

Or, he appeared to be unarmed. Thel had fought both against and beside many of his kindred, and knew well that they could turn absolutely anything into an improvised weapon. It was a skill he'd envied once, and mastered himself through long practice.

There was a female with him, but she wore armor unlike anyone else's. Silver and glowing blue, with pulses of light - was that his construct? Locke had said she was involved with the Guardians…

Curiouser and curiouser.

And then the Demon greeted him in proper Sangheili fashion, but as a commander greeting another of equal rank while still showing respect and deference. The Arbiter returned the gesture, then invited him inside to a briefing chamber, where some of his most trusted commanders waited. "Speak, Spartan. Tell us what you have brought."

The Demon sighed. "In order to provide a full explanation of what's coming, I'll have to start at the beginning, but you have my word I'll do my best to condense and omit everything that's not relevant."

And then he told them about his own Great Journey. His construct had brought visuals as well, and put them on screen, and the Demon explained his thoughts, provided live translations in flawless Sangheili.

When they reached his Journey with the Holy One known as the Librarian and arrived in Path Kethona, observed the star roads, he reached into one of his armor's pockets, then held out his hand. Thel extended his own.

The Demon dropped the fragment of star road into his hand.

The fragment was as it had been then, a splinter - relatively speaking - of iridescent, crystalline metal roughly the size and shape of a human finger. He held it up and watched the light glint off it, then, with a nod of permission from the Demon, passed it on so that his other commanders could handle it as well.

Then came the horrible truth of the Flood's origins.

No amount of discipline could have stopped the whispers that raced through the chamber.

Thel himself was silent, not because he didn't know what to say but because there was too much to say. More than a little bit of him wanted to call the Demon a liar, to say that the Holy Ones weren't capable of such a thing, but another part reminded him of the Halos and their terrible purpose. If the Forerunners could bring themselves to wipe out all life in an entire galaxy, then working to eradicate a single species was a small thing in comparison, no matter how advanced they were. Another part of him wanted to weep, yet another to rage; the Forerunners had been like gods to him once, but it seemed that all they had actually left for the galaxy was destruction and death, in one form or another.

Then the Demon showed them the Forerunner-Flood War - severely abbreviated, only a few of the biggest battles - Maethrillian, the Greater Ark - but Thel could see the shadows of the horror that still lingered in the Demon's eyes, dark with recollection. The memory of that war would haunt the Spartan for the rest of his days, and the Sangheili mourned for him, knew that he would never fully be at peace; the blade had cut too deep. Still, the presence of his construct was a comfort to the other warrior, and Thel was glad of it.

After was the Firing of the Array, the Great Cataclysm, the Reseeding… and then the Forerunners' own Great Journey.

"There is much that came after," said the Demon, "that we will provide for you to look at when you have the time, but for now it is irrelevant. Just know that the galaxy recovered, obviously, but in other places as well as here. A Third Ecumene was founded with a number of other species, and endured for sixty thousand years before collapsing at about the same time as the Human-Covenant War. There was… a lot going on.

"But this, I think you will find most enlightening. The other you certainly did. Mendicant Bias, the ancilla that was perverted by the logic plague, was not wholly contained on the Lesser Ark. A fragment escaped… and found its way to the Anodyne Spirit, the Forerunner Dreadnought of High Charity. He was the Covenant's Oracle there, and after the Battle of Installation Zero-Zero, he provided this to us."

And then they heard.

FOR EONS I HAVE WATCHED, LISTENED TO YOU MISINTERPRET. THIS IS NOT RECLAMATION. THIS IS RECLAIMER. AND THOSE IT REPRESENTS ARE MY MAKERS.

"The Forerunners, some were left behind."

"What should we believe?"

"We must take no chances with these… Reclaimers. They must be expunged. Before anyone else knows of their existence."

"If the Oracle speaks the truth, then all we believe is a lie. If the masses knew this, they would revolt. And I will not let that come to pass."

The Demon's gaze was heavy and cold on the image of Truth. "Whether it was for the good of the Covenant or for himself, we cannot say," he told them, "He was taken by the enemy Flood, and so was lost to us. But, given everything that happened after, near the end? We know what we believe. We leave it up to you to decide what you believe.

"But the tale does not end there."

He showed them, in brief, the foundation of the Fourth Ecumene… and then the vision that called him and his people home. The fight against the Didact, twisted by the Flood, the flight to Genesis, the Battle of the Domain.

"We are coming! We are coming for you! And this time there will be no mercy - only judgment!"

"The Flood armada is getting ready to pass the Greater Ark, since rebuilt by the Fleet," said the Demon, "Once it is out of range, we mean to jump out to it and attack it, destroy it, before it has a chance to reach the galaxy and disappear between stars. We don't expect you to come fight with us; in fact, I daresay that you shouldn't. You have enough fighting going on here without adding this to it. But… There are so many variables. Anything could happen. If it got past us - or worse - we didn't want the first you heard of it to be an enemy armada arriving in orbit."