Halo - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Parley and Betrayal ❯ 1508 Hours, July 4, 2546 (Military Calendar)\PX-067 ( Chapter 1 )

1508 Hours, July 4, 2546 (Military Calendar)\PX-067

 

Ninth Age of Reclamation

 

From the last attack, Telek managed to acquire several human objects, including a dart board to which he placed the image of Truth over. He had it hung up on his wall inside his ready room and he would often occupy himself with it, throwing darts at the Prophet, especially after several transmissions on the local channels on how the Covenant was close to embarking on the Great Journey. Which he was listening to right now. With each news he heard, Telek growled and tossed another dart.

 

“Lies!” he bellowed. “Lies! Why must I keep enduring these lies? Why can't I find a way out of the Covenant? I feel more like a damned prisoner in here than an honorable warrior.”

 

He sighed and grabbed his tin and swallowed his daily medicine down his throat. He was so fed up with the Covenant now and the lies that it spouted that he rarely even wore his uniform anymore. He was dressed in his gray bedclothes and red bathrobe, growling and spitting, throwing another dart at the Prophet of Truth's nose. He was up on his ship while she remained suspended over a planet the humans labeled PX-067. It was a small colony of humans with an even smaller military to protect them. And it was an easy raid for Telek and his crew. He was ordered to do it, so he followed his orders. Like a good `dog'. He glanced up just as a tone sounded, signaling that someone was outside his door.

 

“Come,” he ordered. The door opened and a white and black armored Sangheili Spec-Ops commander came walking in. Her name was Shri `Canthonee and she was Telek's best in operations. When Telek was just a Spec-Ops Commander himself, she was a part of his team and a diligent student under him. And when he rose to the status of Zealot Ship Master and then Fleet Master, Shri became the commander of his old team. Telek made sure that she would remain under him, working with him in every mission the Shade of Darkness went on. And it was she who brought back the text that told Telek the truth—the truth that the Great Journey was a lie. The Great Journey, a belief that the Covenant held that they would travel to this divine beyond and meet with their lords, was nothing more than a fool-hearty fairy tale. When Telek read the text and told his subordinates, the other Ship Masters under his command—Mitsu `Kimamee, Cujo `Mentatalee, Tulsa `Duroshee, and Tulsa `Yuromee, they were ready to stand by him in whatever decision he made about their future with the Covenant. They all wanted out. The truth that everything Telek believed in devastated him. It made him do insane things, made him take up the bottle, and it made him enraged at the Prophet Hierarchs. The last stunt he pulled was trying to stop the Covenant/Human war by delivering a latrine to the UNSC—with an Imperial Admiral inside. Of course, the charges were dismissed because of the audacity of the stunt itself. But it seemed that the great warrior Telek was reduced to being nothing more than a bully to the humans—for that was the mission he went on today.

 

“The attack went well,” said Shri. “They were easily slaughtered.”

 

“Something for the damned Council can choke on, no doubt,” he growled. “Why, Shri? Why must we keep up this charade?”

 

“What do you want to do?” she asked.

 

“Well, for one thing, stop killing humans,” Telek replied. “Where's the honor in bullying a bunch of beings with primitive technology? Why are we in this war? The humans have done nothing to us.”

 

“It's because the Prophets stated they were evil,” Shri sighed. “They don't seem evil, Excellency.”

 

“No, they're not evil,” he said. “A bit narrow-minded, probably. But not evil.”

 

“Not the entire human species,” she agreed.

 

“There is an old human saying that I've learned to trust,” Telek began as he rose up from his desk. “As with anything, there's a few bad apples that ruin the whole bunch. There are bad humans and good humans, as well as bad Sangheili and good Sangheili. But to the humans, we are the evil monsters, not them. And who can blame them? We're the ones trying to make them extinct.”

 

“We've destroyed so many of their homes,” said Shri. “Then, perhaps I have something that will brighten your day, Telek.”

 

Telek took another swig of his tin: “Nothing can brighten up my day.”

 

“I have three human UNSC Marine prisoners,” she said.

 

“Prisoners?” Telek asked. “We never capture prisoners when it comes to the humans.”

 

“I spared these for you,” Shri said. “You can glory yourself in their deaths.”

 

“No,” Telek cut her short. “They might have information we need. I'll keep them alive.”

 

Shri nodded. She knew that he would find a `reason' to spare their lives. She knew the real reason. Telek was tired of killing beings that proved more worthy to remain alive. But the Council would not stand for it, therefore he had to think of a reason to put on record of why he kept them alive in order to sate the Council and his superior, Supreme Commander Otto `Gamamee.

 

“Very well, Excellency,” Shri began. “I suppose you would like to interrogate them yourself.”

 

Telek tossed another dart at Truth: “I wish to do that.”

 

He looked down at himself and how he was dressed. Telek sighed and pressed a glowing holo-pad on the wall, opening a closet full of his uniform and Zealot armor.

 

“I suppose I better be decent when I interrogate them, Commander,” Telek grinned sheepishly.

 

“That would be wise, Excellency,” Shri said.

 

“Very good, Shri,” he nodded. “You are dismissed. Return to your Spec-Ops teams and debrief them.”

 

“Yes, Excellency,” she bowed and exited.

 

Telek disrobed and dressed himself in his dark green, skin-tight, bodysuit uniform and gold armor. Zealots, like all other Sangheili warriors of the Covenant, had their own color coding. A minor Zealot or Field Master just wore gold armor and no other secondary or accent color. Minor Zealots were also Ship Masters. Telek was a Fleet Master, meaning he commanded more than one ship and had more than one Ship Masters beneath him. His armor was gold, like all Zealots, but his armor had an accent secondary color. The accent color of his armor was black. Above him was the Supreme Commander, who held command over many Fleet Masters. The Supreme Commander's gold armor had an accent color of copper. Then above the Supreme Commander was the Imperial Admiral, who wore silver armor with gold as the accent color. Like all Zealots, Telek's armor held a religious Forerunner symbol on the back. Only officers had this symbol. All other `enlisted' Sangheili, like the Minor and Major Domo did not. Telek mulled over many times in his head to scratch out that mark that was on the back of his armor, but doing so meant execution. He began to believe that death was better than the chain that bounded him to the Covenant.

 

Telek `Herosee was a very tall Sangheili. While most Sangheili warriors stood around 8-foot 6 inches, he averaged out to about 9-foot 7 inches. Though there were Sangheili that grew taller than him. The tallest was around 10-foot 3 inches. The humans of course were much shorter, more like the size of Unggoy, the squat masked, blue-skinned, dim-witted creatures that became rather attached to the Sangheili. Unggoy hero-worshipped the Sangheili for some strange reason. But they were cowards in battle, most of the time.

 

The humans that Telek had fought were different. They were not so cowardly and they were certainly not dim-witted. And they also died with honor. So, why did the Covenant hate them? These, 5-6 feet tall, hairless creatures were incredible fighters in battle, though their physical strength was weak compared to a Sangheili. But they made up for that in strategy. Unggoy lacked strategy.

 

Telek zipped up his bodysuit and adjusted his gold and black, tri-pointed helm. He placed his mandible armor on his mouth, which gave him a fearsome look. He took in a breath and walked out of his office.

 

Corporal Chuck Quincy stared with a scowl on his face at the steel armored Elite that paced up and down the brig. The alien's plasma sword was ignited, and its hoofed feet softly walked up and down, keeping its vigil on the prisoners. Beside the door were two Grunts, sleeping. This was pretty much the first time Chuck had seen an Elite before. The alien had a humanoid torso with very wide shoulders and lengthy, lithe, but muscular arms. The legs of this alien were different than a human's legs. The creature's legs resembled a satyr's legs, complete with cloven hooves. And because of the way the legs were built, with the creature walking on its toes with its ankles in the air like hooved animals would, meant that the Elite could run faster and jump higher than humans. Their gloved hands had a pair of fingers and a pair of thumbs on each hand, which strengthened their grip. The weirdest thing about this alien was its mouth. It had two pairs of mandibles that opened wide to reveal rows of serrated, sharp teeth inside. Elites were predators. No doubt, Chuck thought, that they had a set of claws too in those gloves too.

 

In the other cell beside Chuck was his superior officer, Sergeant Eliot Manning and beside him was Private Ken Toyama. Chuck was the only one awake, watching the Elite pace, while the other two were sleeping. He was afraid. He heard what the Covenant often did to prisoners and he heard it was not pretty. The last thing, Chuck wanted was to die in some Covenant ship's cell. It was the waiting that killed him the most though. He could not stand waiting, not knowing what these Covenant bastards wanted to do with him, or what plans they had to put an end to his life. Chuck was barely a Marine, drafted into the service and taken away from his home, his girlfriend, and his family on Regis 9. He was taken to the outskirts of the United Nations outer colony planet PX-067, a planet barely even colonized to even receive a proper name.

 

These Covenant monsters were angry at the humans for something. What, he did not know. He heard what the Covenant did to Harvest, and every other outer planet the humans settled on. The term was glassing. The Covenant, when they found a human settled world, would come in great numbers of ships and bombard the planet with enormous amounts of plasma, turning the surface into molten rock and fire, destroying all life on it. The atmosphere would heat up so hot that it would just disintegrate instantly, and then after a few days, the planet would cool—looking like volcanic glass—and completely barren—devoid of life. He did not want that to happen to PX-067, nor any other human planet. The Covenant, from all he knew, wanted nothing more than to exterminate the humans.

 

The door opened and another Elite walked in. This Elite was dressed in gold armor with black accents and trimming. In the muted blue and violet light, his bodysuit looked black as well, but Chuck could tell it was a dark green. The black armored Elite wore a black bodysuit to match its armor.

 

“Sarge,” Chuck whispered. “Sarge. Wake up.”

 

“What?” Eliot asked.

 

This Elite dressed in gold was much taller and stouter than the black clad Elite. From what Eliot recalled from the files, this Elite was called a Zealot. Zealots were like generals and admirals of the Covenant forces. And they were also the captains of the Covenant ships. He could hear the guttural sounding barks and such coming from the two Elites as they exchanged words in their native tongue. Then the black armored Elite click its heels and made a gesture that looked like some sort of salute to the gold Zealot. The steel-armored Elite barked at the two Grunts, startling them awake and led them outside the brig. Then, the Zealot turned back to the three prisoners and lifted his head to them.

 

“Toyama,” whispered Eliot. “Wake up.”

 

“What happened?” Ken asked. “Who's he?”

 

“I think he's the captain of this vessel,” said Eliot.

 

“Now, humans,” the Elite began, speaking to them in English. Chuck was shocked. He never heard anyone say that Elites could speak English. The Elite's voice sounded masculine, which indicated he was male. The Elite's voice was a soft tenor, but also boarder line baritone. There was command in that voice. It was obvious, this alien was the captain of this ship. The Elite moved towards the holo-panel that operated the shielding on the cells. “Now, humans, if you attack me, I will kill you. I am letting you out for a moment.”

 

“Letting us out?” Chuck asked. “What are you gonna do to us?”

 

“I'll do nothing to you if you don't do anything to me,” the Zealot said. “Sound fair?”

 

“Alright,” Eliot nodded. “That sounds fair.”

 

“Good,” there was a smile in the Elite's tone. He pressed his gloved finger on a blue glowing, holographic button and the shields that kept the prisoners in disappeared. The three Marines slowly and cautiously stepped out of their cells. The big Elite came walking slowly towards them. He stopped a few paces away, not wanting to get close to them so he would not appear to be attacking them. Eliot eyed the door and bit his lips in anxiousness. He wanted to bolt his men and himself out that door, but deep in his mind, he knew it would be a fruitless scheme. He was on a ship filled with Covenant soldiers that could very well kill him and his men in an instant.

 

“I know what you're thinking,” the Elite said. “And I wouldn't try it. There's only three of you.”

 

“I know,” Eliot said. “But it did cross my mind.”

 

The Elite settled himself down onto the floor and motioned for the humans to step forwards closer to him.

 

“I'm sure you have a name for yourselves,” he said. “What are your names and your ranks?”

 

No Covenant has ever asked for a human's name before. This came quite a shock to Chuck. Eliot figured that this was some sort of game this Elite was playing. Ken was just frozen out of his mind.

 

“Eliot Manning, Sergeant, serial number 156J-475, United Nations Space Command Marine,” Eliot said.

 

“Charles Quincy, Corporal, serial number 197J-138, United Nations Space Command Marine,” said Chuck.

 

“Kenichi Toyama, Private, serial number 219J-461, United Nations Space Command Marine,” said Ken.

 

The Elite just nodded: “I am Telek `Herosee, Fleet Master of the Particular Justice and Ship Master of the Shade of Darkness.”

 

“The Shade of Darkness?” Eliot asked.

 

“That is the name of the ship you are on,” Telek replied. “I am one of nine Fleet Masters of the Particular Justice and I command more than one ship. This is the flag ship of the small fleet that I command when we are not a part of the Particular Justice. Just a fleet of 15 ships. 5 are which who are loyal to me, the other 10 I'm not so sure.”

 

“What the hell do you want with us?” Eliot asked.

 

“If it's information you want, we don't have any,” said Chuck.

 

“Then, there is nothing I want from you,” Telek replied. “I already had a feeling you wouldn't have anything of value.”

 

“Then, why the hell are we here?” Eliot asked.

 

“You should ask my Special Operations Commander,” Telek shrugged. “She brought you here.”

 

“That was a woman?” Ken asked.

 

“You're not the only species that has females in the military,” Telek said.

 

“Still, I'd like to know why we're being held prisoner,” said Eliot. “Usually, you Covies just kill us and don't take prisoners.”

 

“Yeah, and what the hell did we do to you anyways?” Chuck asked.

 

“Corporal…” Eliot sighed.

 

“What?” Chuck asked. “I wanna know. Why the fuck are you aliens so damned determined to destroy us? What did we ever do to you?”

 

“For one thing, you're on my ship,” Telek began. “Therefore you are the aliens, not me. And the other—I have no damned idea why we want to eliminate your species.”

 

His tone shocked Chuck. It was just too sincere. Though one look into the Elite's blue eyes and he could tell there was some truth in his words.

 

“If you want that question answered,” Telek continued. “Perhaps I should take you to High Charity and you can ask the Prophet of Truth your question. He's the one who decided your species fate. But if you want my opinion in this, I think it's a waste of time and resources trying to exterminate a species that has never wronged us in the first place. Like you, I just follow the orders I am given. I'll sit, rollover, beg, and play dead by the orders of the High Council whom Truth presides over. That's it. And it really is a waste of plasma glassing one of your planets just because Truth seems to have some sort of pet peeve about your species. I don't know, maybe he was human in a previous life and some human pantsed him one too many times and that's why he feels the need to have us kill you.”

 

Telek's head turned towards Ken, who was covering his mouth to keep from snickering.

 

“This Prophet of Truth has some sort of grudge against us?” Eliot asked.

 

“Yeah, and there you have it,” Telek replied. “That's all I know.”

 

“So, your commander spared us because…” Ken began. “She likes us?”

 

“She spared you probably because she knows that I have a grudging peeve about killing humans,” said Telek. “There is no honor in killing people who have done nothing to us. Apparently, I and a few of those who follow me all have some sort of conscience. The others—they like picking on the weak creature and playing the bully. It's a turn-on for them. Now, you will remain in your cells until I decide what is to be done about you. But I can assure you that killing you three will not be the decision.”

 

“Where are you gonna take us?” Eliot asked.

 

“That is what I'm going to decide on,” he replied. “Until then, these cells are your homes. You will be brought food and water and as you have seen latrines are provided. The pink button flushes. Your attitudes and conduct will determine how smooth your stay will be with me. Make trouble and you shall receive it. I punish those who do deserve it. You are—in a way guests on my ship. Please mind your manners. I do apologize but the Sangheili guard that is here does not speak English. So, don't try to communicate with him.”

 

“The—what?” Ken asked.

 

“Apologies,” Telek said. “Sangheili is the correct term for my species. You call us Elites. Elite is a word in your language meaning extremely skilled. While I am elite in what I do—that's not what my species is called. I am a Sangheili.”

 

“Alright…” Eliot said. “I'm afraid we couldn't stop and ask you bastards what you're actually called because you guys were too busy trying to gun us down.”

 

“I understand,” Telek said. “Return to your cells. I'll come back tomorrow and we'll have another little chat.”

 

He got up off the floor and went back to the holo-panel. As soon as the three Marines were back in their individual cells, Telek reactivated the shielding.

 

“You plan on keeping these humans on board?” Tekn asked.

 

“I have my reasons, Tekn,” Telek said.

 

“I know, Excellency,” he replied. “But what are you gonna do with them? If they have no other use, perhaps we should just let them go—since you won't kill them. There's no point in keeping prisoners that have nothing to offer us.”

 

“Let them go to where and what purpose?” Telek asked. “Just letting them go isn't as simple as that. Where do you propose to drop them off? Some abandoned planet and hope that their friends will pick them up?”

 

“We can't take them to High Charity,” Tekn said. “They'll be killed, perhaps in some sort of entertainment arena. And they cannot stay here—Otto will find out. You could be charged with treason for disobeying an order. Even if we did get some sort of information out of them, the order is to kill them afterwards.”

 

“And it will stop there,” he said as he glanced back at the control holo-panel of his ship. The bridge of the Shade of Darkness was a vast vault inside the ship. Glowing lights like circuitry ran up the pillars around the walls. Telek and Tekn stood on a large, circular platform at the center of the room and around them in a semi-circle were the holographic controls of the ship. In front were four parallelogram-like holo-screens suspended over a wall that showed various maps of the system that they were in as well as images in front, back and sides of the ship. The room was lit up with ambient blue and violet lighting. It would be considered dark to a human's eyes, but to the Sangheili, it was perfect. The Shade like all Covenant ships, were low staffed, unlike human ships, they did not need many personnel to maintain them. Tekn acted as second in command and secondary Ship Master to Telek, especially when Telek was not on board. Control of the ship was split up into shifts between the two. Tekn waited for Telek to finish informing him of what he was going to do with the humans before he took his leave and returned to his quarters to rest. Tekn was dressed in black armor with gold as his accent colors, giving him a distinct rank of Ship Assistant to Telek's Ship Master. He was not a Zealot, but his rank was equal to, if not slightly above Ultra. Large capital ships like the Shade required a secondary assistant to the Ship Master to operate her accurately. When Telek was off duty, sleeping, taking a break, or eating, Tekn was Ship Master.

 

Telek pressed a button and the image of his prisoners appeared on the screen in front.

 

“Tekn, this is not to go on record,” Telek began. “We can't go dropping them off to some planet and hope that a human ship will come by and pick them up. It would be like killing them, only slowly. They'll run out of food, or who knows what could hunt them down and kill them.”

 

“What do you suggest we do, Excellency?” Tekn asked.

 

“Give them back to the UNSC,” Telek nodded.

 

“Huh?” Tekn's gray eyes widened. “You mean seek out a human ship and say: `Hey, we have some prisoners we wish to return to you.' And hope that they won't try to attack us.”

 

“I'll need all five of my ships to do this,” Telek said. “But I believe there is a term they use when two enemies meet up in a peaceful manner and exchange information before leaving—peacefully. If we use this term, they know that we will not attack them and so they would do the honorable thing and also not attack us. We hand over the prisoners and leave. And no word to Otto about this. He'll skin me.”

 

“He'll do worse then that,” Tekn said. “People are talking. What we found—what we're trying to spread to the Covenant—they are thinking of hanging you for heresy. A stunt like this—if Otto finds out—will cost you dearly.”

 

“Then, I'll take the blame,” Telek said. “No point in all of us going down. I won't have it. I'll take the sacrifice for all of us. If it comes to that, you say that you were just following my orders.” He pressed another button and called his four trustworthy Ship Masters. “Cujo, Mitsu, Tulsa, and Tulsa.”

 

“We're here, Telek,” said Cujo.

 

“I heard you have prisoners, Excellency,” said Tulsa `Duroshee.

 

“How's our little brother doing on your ship, Excellency?” Tulsa `Yuromee asked. “You think he could become a good Spec Ops Warrior soon?”

 

“Tulsa `Tolumee,” Telek began. “Is still a bit wet behind the ear holes. He's just a Minor after all. But he is learning well in air assault strategy. I think he wants to become a pilot instead of a Spec Ops. Warrior. And most pilots are Majors. He'll bring honor to the maroon armor.”

 

Tulsa `Yuromee, the Ship Maser of the Celestial Guard, a Covenant cloak-enabled light cruiser, and the middle brother of the three, looked down at his feet in thought. He hoped that his younger brother would become a Spec Ops Warrior like he and Telek `Herosee once were. Very few times did Spec Ops become Ship Masters, but it seemed appropriate for cloak-enabled ships. Cloaking of ships was a rather new technology only been tested within the last twenty years. The Covenant was not in much of a hurry to mass produce them since the war had started. It seemed the eradication of the humans was its primary concern, instead of replacing obsolete technology and ships with better ones. Almost every Ship Master of each of the 10 cloak-enable ships were once either Stealth Warriors, or previous Spec Ops Warriors and Commanders. Tulsa `Duroshee was the eldest of the Brothers Tulsa, and Ship Master of the Righteous Fury, also a cloak-enabled battle cruiser. Mitsu `Kimamee was the Ship Master of the cloak-enabled destroyer class ship called the Holy Justice. He was the shortest of the five Ship Masters who knew about the truth, and he was also the wiry one of the five as well. And then there was Cujo `Mentatalee, who was roughly the same age as Telek and almost the same size as well. Cujo was Telek's best friend, old frat-brother and the only one of the group who didn't refer to Telek as `Excellency' the Covenant equivalent to `sir'. He was the Ship Master of the Divine Journey, a cloak-enabled super cruiser that can pack nearly the same punch as Telek's on assault carrier. Not only that, the ship could snipe other ships from long range—usually before the other ship could pick Cujo up on its sensors. Couple that with the cloaking technology and the Divine Journey was a deadly ship to mess with. Cujo was always considered as Telek's right hand wingman. Even his ship took the right flank when the five traveled in formation—which they were in right now. The formation looked like something off of the number 5 side on a Craps die—the four smaller ships around the Covenant assault carrier. Ten starfighter Seraphs guarded the top and bottom of the formation. The Seraphs also had slip-space capabilities, though it was short-ranged compared to the five ships. When Telek needed to make a long jump in formation, the Seraphs would return to their ships and dock and the five ships would jump. Unfortunately, the Seraphs could not cloak, but sometimes they were used as decoys to draw the enemy's attention while the five cloaked ships would make their attacks from behind. It was one of Telek's ingenious plans, and it worked most of the time. There had been a few times where someone saw through the ploy and were able to notice the shimmer of stars as one of the cloaked ships went by—but that took a lot of concentration. Not many human ships survived to report back about the Covenant's cloak technology.

 

“Yes,” said Telek. “I have prisoners. Here is the plan. We are going to seek out any human ship—preferably a single ship. No fleets. What we'll do is build a formation around this ship and keep it from escaping while I try to negotiate with them. I'm going to give up these prisoners.”

 

“You know the High Council won't like it,” Cujo said.

 

“Since when did you care about what the High Council thinks, Cujo?” Mitsu asked.

 

“I don't,” Cujo said. “I'm just pointing it out so that we can go ahead and do it. I like it when we piss those bastards off.”

 

Telek chuckled: “Agreed. Another rod up Truth's ass. I've got a dart board now with Truth's picture on it so I can throw darts at it.”

 

“I want one!” Tulsa `Duroshee cried. “I'll have Regret's picture though.”

 

“I'll take Mercy,” said Cujo.

 

“I suppose the usual plan of just letting them pass if we see a human ship isn't the plan this time,” said Tulsa `Yuromee.

 

Normally, if the five spotted a human ship in their sensors, they would cloak and let the human ship go by. Telek never attacked a human ship unless ordered to do so, unlike most Covenant ships. Most Covenant ships would attack a human ship if they spotted one, but they did not have the luxury of the cloak—nor Telek's mentality.

 

“Yup, we go find a ship,” Telek nodded.

 

“Where?” Mitsu asked.

 

“Well, the last raid that picked up these three Marines also had some human star charts,” Telek replied. “I know where to find one of their worlds that no doubt probably has a ship or two lurking by. We won't go near the world, we'll just hang on the out skirts of the system and start our search there. Cloaked of course. I don't want them noticing us until I'm ready to make contact.”

 

“And what will you say to the humans to make them not attack us?” Tulsa `Yuromee asked.

 

“I'm sure they have some sort of term that we could use that will tell them we only wanna talk business, not fight,” Telek said. “I've picked up a very old book on naval and nautical terms used on their home world. I'm sure it'll give me something. Tekn, will you get that book for me? I'll be studying it while I'm in the bridge.”

 

“So lucky the ship can practically drive itself,” Tekn sighed as he left the bridge.

 

“Something tells me you're gonna curl up on the floor in your usual bathrobe and start reading,” Cujo chuckled.

 

Telek chuckled: “Tekn, go get my pillow too!”

 

“Yes, Excellency!” called Tekn's voice.

 

“I like curling,” he said. “The human world of my choice is about a week's jump from here. Order in all the Seraphs and we'll start jumping when I give you the coordinates.”

 

“We're all fueled up and ready for the jump, Excellency,” said Mitsu.

 

“I'll tell you when to jump when the Seraphs are in,” said Telek. He pressed another button. “Squadron leaders, return to dock to your respected ships, we're about to make a jump.”

 

“Yes, Excellency,” said one of the voices of the squadron leaders.

 

“This will probably be the best thing we've done since we raided that planet,” said Mitsu.

 

“I'll drink to that,” Telek nodded, taking out his tin.

 

“Telek,” Cujo sighed. “I swear, you need help.”

 

“Not while I'm drinking, Cujo,” he sneered.

 

“Human, eat,” the Grunt huffed as he tried to place the food nipple down Chuck's throat.

 

“No!” Chuck cried. “Get that thing the hell away from me! Your food is disgusting!”

 

Eliot shook his head: “Corporal! Don't make anymore trouble! We're lucky that Ship Master's being so hospitable.”

 

“Yeah, don't get us into more trouble than we're already in,” said Ken. “Just eat the stuff.”

 

“It's crap!” Chuck cried.

 

“Human, food good,” said the Grunt. “Eat.”

 

“Get the fuck away from me!” Chuck snapped, batting the food nipple away from the squat creature. The Grunt screeched in fear and darted away, running behind the steel-armored Elite with the sword. The Elite bellowed and charged for Chuck, brandishing his blue, plasma sword at the Marine. Chuck screamed, sliding himself on the floor towards the corner of his sell and curling up into a tiny, shivering ball. Just as the Elite was about to cut into him, another hand came out and grabbed the Elite. The armored alien was thrown against the fall wall, its helm flying off its head as it impacted the side. Chuck, shaking in terror, glanced up to see the Ship Master Telek, sword ignited, and pointing it directly at the throat of the Elite who tried to attack the Marine.

 

“Roirraw, dnatsrednu, kcolria eht tuo uoy worht l'lahsi dna mih l'lik?” Telek growled at the Elite.

 

The Elite dipped his head in acknowledgement and rose from the floor as Telek put away his sword. Then, he took his helmet and shoed the Grunts out of the brig. Telek turned back to his prisoners and shook his helmed head.

 

“So damned hard to find good help these days,” he sighed. “Now, what the hell initiated this little fight anyways?”

 

“I'm sorry, Ship Master,” Eliot began. “Chuck here doesn't understand the good hospitality you're giving us.”

 

“That Grunt was trying to feed me poison or something!” Chuck cried, still shivering from the attack.

 

Telek glanced over, seeing the food nipple on the floor, the tube dribbling out its nutrient paste. He picked it up and showed it to Chuck.

 

“You mean this?” he asked. “This is a food nipple. It's filled with protein and carbohydrates, the energy that you need to sustain yourself. Granted it doesn't taste all that great, but it's better than nothing.”

 

“It's crap!” Chuck cried again, hiding his head down between his knees, fearing that Telek might try to charge at him like that Elite did for insulting the food.

 

“I'm sorry,” Telek said, being as cool and calm as he could be, though his voice did hold some cynicism. “But unfortunately we don't have pretzels and peanuts on this flight. Perhaps I can talk to the flight attendant and she can whip up some stale crackers for you.”

 

Chuck just shook his head. Telek could hear the sound of pouting coming from the corporal and he arched an eyebrow.

 

“Stow the sniveling, Quincy!” Eliot barked. “You're a Marine. You're gonna eat this stuff, or you can starve. It's your choice.”

 

“Yeah,” said Ken. “It tastes like tofu without any flavoring. Just eat it.”

 

“I fucking hate tofu!” Chuck cried. “I'm sick of this, shit, man! I'm sick of it! I want out! I can't stand being cramped up in here. It sucks!”

 

Eliot growled and got up, walking out of his cell and into Chuck's. Telek just stood and watched as the sergeant grabbed the Marine by the collar and then punched him in the face.

 

“I told you to shove it, Marine!” Eliot bellowed again. “That was an order, not a suggestion.”

 

He glanced back at Telek and sighed.

 

“Sorry,” he said. “Sometimes it's necessary.”

 

Telek chuckled deeply: “You just saw me throw one of my men across the brig for attacking yours. Believe me, I know. I do have some news for the three of you. I've made my decision on what to do with you.”

 

“And what's that?” Eliot asked.

 

“I'm letting you go,” he replied.

 

“You are?” Ken asked, a smile appearing on his face. “You mean it?”

 

“To where?” Eliot asked.

 

“To the UNSC,” Telek replied. “Where you belong.”

 

“I don't mean to be insulting,” Eliot replied. “But I don't think they'll stop for a moment to talk with you about handing us over. One sight of your ship and they'll jump.”

 

“Oh, I know very well about the Cole Protocol,” Telek said. He began to pace up and down in front of the three Marines. “Article One: To safeguard the Inner Colonies of Earth, all UNSC vessels or stations must not be captured with intact navigation databases that may lead Covenant forces to human civilian population centers. If Covenant vessels are detected, the ship must purge databases, erase back-up drivers and networks, retreat by entering slip-space with randomized vectors that do not lead the Covenant to the Inner Planets, Earth, or other civilian populated stations. And in case of capture of Covenant forces, all UNSC ships must self-destruct.”

 

“How do you know…” Eliot breathed.

 

“As I've stated I am elite in what I do,” Telek replied. “Which includes espionage—stealing enemy information.”

 

“I bet that means you know where Earth is, don't you?” Eliot said, his fists balling up with white knuckles showing. His jaw began to set in place.

 

“No,” Telek replied. “I don't. And I'm not interested in finding it. There's something you need to know about me, Sergeant. What I am about to do would mean treason for me. We are about to embark on a week long jump to one of your colony systems and we are going to be cloaked the entire time to stay off their radar until I wish to make our presence known to one of the ships in the area. By taking this trip, this means that from this day forth, this ship, and the other four ships that are traveling with it—are traitors to the Covenant. I am no longer a warrior in the Covenant regime. I know about the Cole Protocol, but I have never shared it with my superiors. They don't know.”

 

“So, you're a defector?” Eliot asked.

 

“He's a Covie Benedict Arnold!” Ken laughed.

 

Telek nodded and took out a photograph of an alien creature with a long neck, red robes and a golden headdress.

 

“I want you boys to take a good look at this picture,” he said. “This is the Prophet of Truth. He is your enemy. Not me. He's also my enemy. And as the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. You are the enemy of Truth, and I hate Truth. Therefore, you are my friend.”

 

“Why do you wanna betray your own kind?” Ken asked.

 

“Well, for one, I hate Truth,” Telek replied. “A long time ago, my species and the species known as the Prophets were at war with each other. We called a truce after that and formed the Covenant. All other species that have joined are more or less slave species to us. But a new species has joined known as the Jiralhanae. These creatures are big, brutish monsters. Smelly and hairy. They don't even bathe. It's disgusting. They have begun to win the favor of the Prophets in the short time that they've been here which is upsetting the Sangheili High Council. But for now we're turning a blind eye to it. I really don't like them and I want them out of the Covenant and I think the Prophets' reason for bringing them in is to replace the Sangheili with these ugly monsters. I don't want to be turned into a slave—but I think its more than that. The Prophets might try to do to us what they are doing to your—exterminate us. They want the reinitiate that ancient war we fought with them long ago.”

 

“So, you want out because of these new guys,” said Chuck, who picked up his head off the floor and rubbed the place where he had been hit.

 

“It's a little bit more than that,” Telek said. “If I may ask, what religion are the three of you?”

 

“I'm—a devout Protestant Christian,” Eliot replied.

 

“Buddhist,” said Ken.

 

“My—mom's Jewish,” said Chuck. “But my dad was a Unitarian, who converted to Judaism. I'm kinda undecided.”

 

“Well, how would you feel like if you went on a mission for your religion to uncover artifacts about your religion and then found out that these artifacts told you that your religion was a lie?” Telek asked. “And that in actuality what you hoped to achieve in your religion will ultimately destroy the universe?”

 

“Uh…” Eliot blinked.

 

“Uh…” Ken said. “I don't know. I'd—probably be really pissed.”

 

“Probably try to find out a way to stop it from happening,” said Chuck.

 

“A few years ago, I went on such a mission to find artifacts for the Covenant religion,” Telek said. “At the order of the Prophet Hierarchs. I found them and then found out that the very religion I believed in was a fat lie. Not only that—but if they do in fact try to find these so-called Sacred Rings and go on this Great Journey, they'll destroy the universe. Meaning you, me, Covenant, Human, don't matter. We're all dead if the Prophets do what they plan to do.”

 

“What are the…Sacred Rings?” Eliot asked.

 

“They are these—big machines,” Telek replied. “That the Covenant believe will open some sort of gateway to some shining heaven and obliterate any infidel who aren't worthy. But, in truth, these machines will just kill everyone, whether they believe in the religion of the Covenant or not. All of my life, I've been told this damned lie. It sickens me. Every time I think about it, I wanna just—break something. From the moment this war started, I started to have this bad taste in my mouth about the Covenant, and then I discovered this and now I just want to vomit.”

 

“Wow,” Chuck said. “And—and that's why you wanna help us?”

 

“If things turn bad for me, I need a place to run,” said Telek. “My crew too, and my ships. And—I want to set things right. I want my honor back. Maybe even up the odds of this war—providing this ONI of yours the information it needs to save what worlds you have left.”

 

“How do we know you won't trick us and turn against the ship you're gonna contact?” Eliot asked.

 

“I guess you'll just have to find out,” Telek replied. He turned back to the corporal and motioned towards the food nipple. “Eat your food. You'll need the strength. But just think, once you're back, you can have all the hotdogs and nachos you can stuff in your mouth.”

 

“Did the Covenant build these Sacred Rings?” Ken asked.

 

“No,” the Elite said. “They didn't. The Rings have been around for thousands of years—prior to the forming of the Covenant. But so far that's all I know. Rest up.”

 

He was lying, of course. He knew more than that. But he did not want the humans to go looking for these rings. He knew what the rings did, and he knew what they held. Telek got up off the floor and walked out of the brig, closing and locking the door behind him. In came the black-armored Elite and the two Grunts. The Elite motioned for the three Marines to go back into their cells as he reactivated the shielding.