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brownald · 5 months

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Thought I’d repost the first Halo fanfic I wrote since it’s still one of my favorite things I’ve written and I want to look back on it every so often. I never finished part 2 but I’ll do it one of these days I guess.

Halo: Swords of Sangheilios

Sanghelios.

A dry, scathing world.

A world with ancient ruins covering scars from battles long ago.

A world with such vicious fauna that it was a wonder that so many species ravaged its surface.

To a human eye, Sanghelios was inhospitable, best left to the pirates and scum of the galaxy.

But to the noble Sangheili, it was home.

One such Sangheili stood at the helm of the Shadow of Intent now, his pearly white armor reflecting the reddish glow of his homeworld below. He stared down upon the seemingly peaceful planet underneath his warship's hull. To his side, his crew tapped upon their data pads, keeping the ship orbiting the planet out of sight of the populace below.

A door slid open at the back of the room, a lone Elite making his way to the front of the room where his commander stood, unwavering. He nervously nodded his head and spoke, his voice gravelly and rough, yet highly strung in awe of the war hero before him.

“Shipmaster?”

“You may speak, major. What news does the Arbiter bring me?” His voice was smooth, despite his missing mandibles on the left side of his face. He spoke with an air of superiority, yet if any malice was in his words, his voice did not betray it.

“The Arbiter informs me that our allies on Sanghelios have finished preparing for our arrival. We may begin our landing at Bdaoro City at once.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then return to the Arbiter and tell him this: I will land at Bdaoro City tonight, and I expect Usze and N’tho to be there with him.”

“Right away, shipmaster.”

“Thank you, Major.”

With that, the messenger turned away to inform the Arbiter of the shipmaster’s wishes. As he left, the shipmaster returned his gaze to the world below, and considered the effect that the return of order to Sanghelios might have upon the people. They had been without rule for almost a month now, and he feared that the clans had fallen into anarchy, or worse had ceased to exist. It was a worrying thought, one that the old shipmaster feared would never come to pass. That was the least of his fears, however. He knew that the path to a unified Sanghelios would be a long, difficult one, and that despite his numerous campaigns against foes both large and small, he’d never feared like this.

However he knew that this was too important a job to be left to the bureaucrats. The Elites had experienced such a rule for thousands of years, and only months ago it had threatened to kill every last Sangheili until nothing was left of their species but dust and echoes. He had an opportunity to send his kind on the best possible path, and it was an opportunity that he could not afford to let float away.

It was an odd change of pace for Lord ‘Vadum. But it was one he welcomed with caution.

__________

The messenger slowly entered the Arbiter’s chambers, taking a moment to check if the Arbiter was in the mood to be disturbed by listening for the music Thel ‘Vadam was known to play when in moments of personal crisis. Hearing only silence, he stepped forward into his commander’s suite, the lavish ornaments covering the walls taken from Thel’s various conquests throughout the galaxy. A shard of glass from Reach, an inoperable sentinel beam from the first Halo ring, and one of Sesa ‘Refumee’s holo-drones were mounted on the wall, projecting a timeline through the Arbiter’s exploits. Beyond these few mementos though, little else served to fill the room, save for basic furniture and a sink in the corner. Thel had ordered his quarters to be rid of all luxuries, to appear closer to the warriors under his command. Yet he had insisted on his relics to remain on the wall, for all to see as they entered his quarters. For what purpose the messenger did not know, but then again it was not his job to ask.

He found the Arbiter kneeling in front of a shrine in his meditation chamber, clad only in his ceremonial robe. Seeming to sense the messenger’s presence before the door was opened, he got up and turned to face his visitor. As the messenger looked upon his commander, he took care to avoid gazing at the Mark of Shame branded on him so long ago, he’d heard it was still a sore spot for the Arbiter, in more ways than one.

“Does the Shipmaster bring news from the bridge?” Thel inquired, his voice restrained and somber.

“Yes, my lord, he says that preparations are complete for our landing at Bdaoro, but I also bring news from Lord ‘Taham. He requests that you meet with him in the Blademaster’s Yard as soon as time permits. He says he’d like to debate with you.

‘Vadam sighed, the aging warrior within him resigning his anger to where it could be saved for this disrespectful act of dissent.

“Usze ‘Taham merely wishes to complain of our alliance with humanity once again. His hubris stifles any hope of our race returning to our former glory. Stil, I shudder to think what his bladesmen could do to our cause if I do not heed his request. Tell him I will be there.”

“Yes, sir. Is there any other message you would like to deliver?”

Thel did not reply, instead stepping to the window on the farside of the room, staring at the orange world below. From so high, the cavernous canyons and its blazing temperatures made it seem far too harsh for any life to survive there, let alone a spacefaring people. But the Arbiter saw not the cracked, rough texture of the planet’s surface, nor did he see the field of debris the past month of war had created. He saw a planet with cities the forerunners could only dream of, a race stretching onward into the cosmos. He saw a people joining hands and marching together into the beyond. But his dream was far off, and only a miracle could bring it to reality.

In that case,it was fortunate that Thel was once considered the will of the Gods.

He continued to stare at the planet below, now intent on asking his messenger a query he found most important.

“Tell me, major. Have you a name?”

The messenger looked taken aback for a moment, shocked that a warrior of such status would bother to familiarize himself with his underlings. Nevertheless, he recovered quickly and replied.

“Loro ‘Chamanee, my lord.”

“You ally yourself with me yet you still bear a name bestowed upon you by those who would do our species harm?” Thel’s voice was layered with confusion, baffled as to why this messenger would do such a thing. To keep the -ee at the end of a name was considered worse than the killing of a comrade in battle, to many it was considered a great dishonor.

“Yes. I’ve found my devotion to the old ways is much more rigorous than that of my peers.” Loro’s voice was now full of stubborn determination, standing up to his superior with an almost arrogant tone of voice.

“Fascinating. That will be all.” Thel’s voice was now flat, uninterested in his servant’s words.

Loro departed the quarters quickly, leaving his commander alone with his thoughts. Thel sighed and turned to face the shrine in the center of the room.

It was easily the most lavish thing on the ship. Thel had tried to remove it with the rest of his luxuries, but his warriors refused, fearing its removal would anger the Gods. Despite their newfound freedom, the Sangheili still fervently upheld the religion of the Covenant, even to a fault. Thel cleared his mind with a sigh and continued to stare at the shrine. Gold inlay complemented the platinum ring that had been engraved to resemble a Halo array, with precious gemstones where the generators would otherwise be. A hologram of the “Sacred Icon”, known to Thel as the activation index, hovered in the center of the ring, reminding all who saw it the priorities that the Covenant placed on all its citizens.

Those priorities were still fresh in the minds of the Sangheili, placing them in a state of desperate nostalgia for the days of the Prophets. They had yet to accept that the Hiererarchs were gone and they were free to act as they wished.

“A problem for when we land.”, Thel thought, now gathering his resolve in order to meet with Usze Taham. Thel’s vision of Sangheilios required the aid of Humanity, and so long as Taham continued to dispute with him that aid would never come. Thel mentally prepared himself for a vicious debate, but one he knew he needed to win.

Thel sighed and left the meditation chamber, the door sliding closed behind him. He entered his main hall and stepped over to a combination lock hidden behind a model of a flood infector that had terrorized High Charity during the Great Schism. Entering a series of digits into the pad, he stepped back as his wall began to hiss and emit steam as two panels lifted forward and pulled off to the side, casting a bright white glow across the room. Thel stared as his armor from the Covenant floated forward on a stand, waiting for him to don the holy metal. With slight hesitation, Thel began to put on the undersuit, then the leg armor and the chest, before applying the plates to his arm and looking at himself in the reflection casted by the window overlooking Sangheilios. Seeing that everything was fitted correctly, he lifted the helmet off its plinth and stared at it with resolve, the bright light reflecting off of it nearly blinding him. He flipped it around and placed it upon his head, returning the armor stand to the wall from whence he came. Now donning his iconic Armor of the Arbiter, Thel stepped out of his quarters determined.

Usze would have his debate.

_________

Thel arrived at the Blademaster’s Yard after curfew, the darkened halls stretching out in a line save for one illuminated dueling ring in front of him, a lone Elite practicing inside. He stepped to the entrance, pausing in front of the door to watch.

The Elite stood alone against several training bots at once, standing his ground as they approached him, spindly arms brandishing energy swords and lances pointed at his neck, unmoving as they readied their blades.

As one bot swung a lance with little warning, the sizzling edge met only air as the lone warrior slipped under it with an elegant slide, carving his own blade into the bot’s violet metal chassis with a crackle. Auto-locking on their adversary with mechanical precision, the remaining two androids commenced their own attacks simultaneously, trying to pince their foe between their weapons.

But they never got the chance. The Elite sliced off the hand of the first bot, leaving it defenseless before grabbing the pole of the second’s lance and yanking it towards him with a tug. Sent off balance by its foe's tactic, the robot was pulled forward, leaving its back exposed for an impaling by the blade of one Usze ‘Taham.

Usze stood motionless, surrounded by the husks of his fallen foes, seemingly in a trance. His concentration was so far removed from him that the Arbiter’s entrance went unnoticed, at least until the Arbiter cleared his throat.

“Ah, Arbiter! I did not hear you enter!” Usze shouted with surprise, turning around with a jump.

“That much is apparent.”, Thel replied with barely concealed disgust. “You wanted to meet here, yet I find you preoccupied with your toys?”

“My apologies, Arbiter. I feared the message had not been delivered. Had I been warned of your approach you would have found me much more prepared.”

“I can only hope so. You mentioned a debate of some sort?”

Usze smiled.

“I did. I was hoping we could debate over a duel, if that could be arranged. I find I speak better with a blade to my neck.”

Thel stared back, emotionless.

“It would be my honor, Lord ‘Taham.”

The two took up positions at opposite ends of the dueling ring. After bows were exchanged and blades were ignited, the duel began.

“I’d like to ask you about your alliance with humanity, if I may.”

“Go ahead.” Thel said, keeping his eyes on his opponent.

“Will you share with them our technology?” Usze’s voice was cold, forceful. What little pleasantries he’d exchanged with the Arbiter had been extinguished when he activated his sword.

Thel waited for a moment before responding. “Of course, they are our allies.”

With a bellow, Usze lowered his torso and charged at the Arbiter, sword at the ready. Raising his own blade, the Arbiter began to stomp toward his foe, calm and collected as ever. As the Arbiter sprinted closer, he lept into the air, blade ready for a skyward blow. ‘Taham, thinking quickly, ducked under Thel’s legs, sliding under his attack with an elegant slide.

As Thel skidded to a halt, he turned around to see ‘Taham already off the ground, blade already lifted above his head. Without thinking, Thel lifted his own blade into his opponents’, causing a blinding light to explode out of a shower of sparks, dazzling both duelists and sending them stepping back. Despite Usze’s skill at fighting, it was Thel who recovered first.

Thel swung his blade violently at his foe, however Usze’s impaired vision had not impacted his reflexes and he lept back before Thel’s blade could touch his armor. Pacing back and forth once again, he began to mock the Arbiter’s alliance with Humanity.

“You would sacrifice our mellenia of knowledge and discoveries for a deal with savages who would not do the same for us?” Usze shouted, anger permeating every word he spoke.

“Our knowledge was granted to us by the Prophets, and they are lost to us. If we want the Sangheili to thrive, we must allow others to do the same.” Thel’s voice was emotionless, a stark contrast to Usze’s incurable rage.

What little rationality was left in Usze’s mind evaporated, a primal roar emanating from his maw as he lept a nearly impossible amount of distance, ready to deliver the final blow.

But he never got the chance. Thel stepped to the side as ‘Taham landed bewildered, unaware of the trap he’d just sprung. Still fueled by rage, he swung a final lunge at the Arbiter, aiming for the head. However, with an outstretched hand Thel grabbed Usze’s sword arm, halting the attack, then followed it up with a headbut before kicking ‘Taham’s knee, knocking him to the floor.

Defeated, Usze looked up to see Thel standing above him with a sword pointed at his neck.

“Speak.”

Usze hesitated for a moment before replying, “What little advantage we gain from the humans will be outweighed by assimilation the humans will force us into. One does not cure a broken finger by severing the arm.”

Thel pondered Usze’s words for a moment. “Tell me, Lord ‘Taham,” he asked. “If we were to find ourselves in a civil war, would I find you by my side, or your knife in my back?”

“I would not dream of betraying you, my lord.”

“Good.”

With that, Thel reached his arm out for Usze to grasp. Usze did so, and the two pulled him up off the ground. Thel pulled him close and whispered in his ear.

“You have made the right choice, Lord ‘Taham. Be grateful I do not kill you where you stand.”

And with that, the Arbiter silently left the dueling hall to return to his chambers. Left alone with his thoughts, Usze thought about how humanity had acted during the war, and how their methods left scars on the Sangheili to this day. Usze had beared witness to the effects of human weaponry, and the savagery they inflicted on their foes.

One memory from Harvest stood out to him, all the way when the war had started. Standing among the ruins of a human structure, he’d come across a lance of Unggoy that had been ambushed by a human flamethrower. Despite their lives being taken the moment the flames coated their body, their hides were still crackling from the intense heat, their flesh melted at points revealing the cooked insides of the unfortunate Grunts. One still crawled on the ground, barely alive but still clinging to life, suffering with every movement of its limbs.

It was more of a mercy kill than anything else.

Snapping back to reality, Usze found himself with new resolve. The Arbiter had not seen what Usze had seen. As Usze saw humanity’s brutality first hand, Thel had sat high above in his warships, oblivious to the fighting below. Usze had no doubt in his mind that the Arbiter’s vision for the Sangheili would only lead to ruin. He had to stop him before Sangheilios found itself engulfed in a civil war.

But how to start? Without the support of the Arbiter’s allies such an ideological revolution was impossible. And among the loudest of Thel ’Vadam’s supporters was N’tho S’raom. However, since N’tho was more of the scholarly type rather than a warrior, Usze was certain that it would be easy to show him the error of his ways. ‘Taham left the dueling ring at last, marching toward N’tho’s study with righteous purpose.

__________

His determination led him there quickly and without delay, the sliding doors locked to prevent anyone from accessing the knowledge inside without Lord S’raom’s permission. Taking a nervous breath in, Usze raised a fist and cautiously rapped twice on the metal doors. For a moment, the doors remained steadfast, unmoving. After a deafening silence however, they slid open with a pleasant chime, allowing Usze access to the secrets held within.

Stepping inside, the stifilingly close walls of the room astounded him. Bookshelves covered the walls, some nearly empty with their contents spewed across the floor. A massive window made up the far side of the room, overlooking Sanghelios below, illuminating the room with the help of a desk lamp on a reading desk to the left of the window. Facing it was a pair of couches on either side of a small table with a glass of liquor resting upon it. Usze was still gazing around the room when from some unseen entryway emerged N’tho S’raom, book in hand.

“Ah, Lord ‘Taham! Had I known you were visiting I would have tidied up a bit!” His voice was boisterous, carefree.

“It is no concern of mine. I hope I have not interrupted your studies?”

“Not at all! I needed a break anyway, Jiralhanae war poetry begins to grow weary on the soul.”

Usze felt a pang of anger at this supposed academic’s referral to the Brutes as Jiralhanae. To address one by their proper name was a sign of respect, why then did N’tho refer to the Sangheili’s sworn enemies by their respected name? Usze forced his anger elsewhere. It would have to wait.

“That sounds…”, he muttered through gritted teeth. “Enthralling.” He was lying of course, but he did not want to risk aggravating his host by insulting his interests.

“I assure you, it is not. Please, take a seat.” N’ tho gestured to the sofa facing the window, to which Usze obliged. N’tho sat upon the couch opposite him, pouring himself a drink from the bottle on the table.

“Would you like some, Lord ‘Taham?”

“No, thank you. I would like to discuss the current Arbiter with you, if I may.”

“Of course. What is it you wish to discuss?”

“Many things, but his alliance with humanity in particular.”

“Go ahead then.”

“As you know, the Arbiter and I have butted heads over his proposed strengthening of ties with humanity. He has advocated for an alliance, while I am more isolationist in my views.”

N’tho scoffed. “A grave understatement, but yes.”

“I’ve noticed you often take his side. May I ask why?”

“But of course. Over the past weeks I’ve studied humanity’s history closely, and one common thread I’ve seen is that after a war their economy prospers. If we help them recover, they may do the same to us.”

Usze was taken aback, widening his eyes in surprise. “Is that all?”He asked. “You wish to ally with the humans for their money?”

N’tho answered. “Not entirely, no. The humans have proven themselves to be capable fighters, as well as forgiving ones. We glassed so many of their worlds during the war, yet they stood by us when the Prophet’s treachery was realized.”

“We were the enemy of their enemy. Our alliance was based on circumstances and nothing more.”

“Perhaps, but why then have they not attacked us in our weakened state? Surely such a weakened foe would make easy prey.”

“That is because they are as weak as us, Lord S’raom. Another war would cause only death.”

“And thus we circle back to their upcoming economic prosperity. Though they are weak now, in but a year they will have quickly recovered from their wounds. We will stand little chance after that.”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Unless of course, we have an alliance. They would not betray us then, and perhaps they would loan us some of their wealth.”

Usze angrily stood up. “You assume the best of those savages.” He growled.

“Well yes, that is the job of a diplomat.” N’tho nonchalantly muttered.

“Then do not come whining to me when Sunaion is reduced to rubble by a single human bomb.”

“Let us worry about Bdaoro first. Ah, that reminds me: Lord ‘Vadum has asked for us

both to be alongside the Arbiter when he lands at Bdaoro tonight. What an honor.”

Usze stared down at N’tho with hatred in his eyes.

“You’d best get moving. I doubt our hosts would like to see you so enraged.”

Usze stomped out of the room. “This is not the last conversation we will have about this, Lord N’tho”

“I know.” S’raom replied as the door slammed shut.

“I am counting on it.”

#halo #fanfiction #thel vadam #the arbiter #shipmaster #rtas vadum #usze taham #ntho sraom #halo elites #sangheili #halo fanfic

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holyshonks · 10 days

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Why I love Rojka 'Kasaan (and you should, too)

If Master Chief blew up a Covenant homeworld, you might look at him differently. You might consider civilian casualties and the cruel calculus of war and wince. His story helpfully side-steps this issue by making it so that it simply never happens. Humanity never found Covenant homeworlds during the war soon enough to target them. Until Glyke.

If we expect cooperation and remorse from ex-Covenant who destroyed human worlds, what do we expect from a Sangheili fleetmaster whose own world was destroyed by Spartans? That's Rojka's story.

Rojka was once a fleetmaster, but was demoted after the Changing of the Guard, sent to a shipyard to repair ships rather than command them. As a result, he was not present for the attack on Reach or the assault on Earth.

When Reach fell, Spartan-II Gray Team was granted permission to target and destroy Covenant homeworlds in what was clearly an act of retaliation. They were cleared to destroy the Sangheili colony Glyke before comms were lost with ONI. Unbeknownst to them, the human-Sangheili ceasefire was initiated just before they decided on destroying the planet, effectively betraying the fresh alliance between humans and Sangheili. Rojka, a Glyke native, lost most of his family.

During the Great Schism, Rojka sided with Thel 'Vadam and the Covenant separatists, taking control of the fleet that he'd been tasked with repairing. Rojka was realistic. Like so many, he faced a crisis of character when he lost his religion. He worried for his species' future and longed for direction. He understood that the Sangheili needed to be allies with the humans to survive. To this end, he learned to tolerate them. But not the Spartans that ruined his life.

Rojka isn't anyone special. He's no Thel 'Vadam, with wealth, influence, and his family behind him. He's no Usze 'Taham, with old-world faith and an impressive pedigree. He could probably be most closely compared to Olabisi Varo'dai, except that she lost her home at the hands of a Covenant accident and not a UNSC attack.

Rojka is a refugee. Anyone in his life who didn't happen to be off-world when the nukes detonated was dead. The fleet he used to have was down to a skeleton crew. But Thel 'Vadam still asked him to lead the refugees to a new world that they called Rakoi. They started to rebuild, with Rojka becoming the kaidon of Rak, the Sangheili capital (nerd sidebar for those who care: I believe he was more accurately the high kaidon). He grows to love his new home, with one complicating factor: unbeknownst to them, Rakoi was originally called Carrow, a human colony that evacuated during the war. When the dust settled, the humans returned to find their new neighbors.

There's irony somewhere in Thel asking Rojka to do something he would never ask of a human: to set aside his anger at losing his homeworld and work peacefully with the people who took it from him. It's something that Thel hopes for, but when humans continue to hate him, he doesn't blame them. But he expects more from Rojka, and Rojka, who is concerned about maintaining support from Sanghelios, is caught in the politics. He agrees to maintain peace with the humans, which leads to a civil conflict led by his own cousin, who disagrees with making peace.

As part of this agreement, he is introduced to the UNSC Diplomatic Corp envoy Melody Azikiwe. At first, he resents her presence, thinking of her as a meddler and someone whose skills were ultimately useless. He considers humans to be a necessary evil rather than allies. He does not believe diplomacy is truly possible, and thinks Melody weak for talking instead of fighting. But when a two-front war breaks out on Carrow and Melody awakens Gray Team to assist, his resolve is shaken. Over and over again, he's reminded of how much both humans and Sangheili have suffered.

Eventually the civil conflict escalates to a point where the entire planet is in danger, and he has no choice but to accept help from the Spartans. The decision to destroy Glyke without clear orders was a contentious one for the team, which broke them once they realized what they'd done. In their own way, they try to make amends with Rojka.

In the end, it's not ships or soldiers who overcome the conflict, but people. Regular people, talking their way out and through problems. Rojka begins to realize the importance of jobs like Melody's and that there are better ways to solve problems than separating heads from necks (although he does do that, too). Having decided to set aside his anger with Gray Team, he returns home to Rak to rebuild. When he gets there, he learns that another kaidon has risen to power in his absence, usurping his title. In what is, in my opinion, his greatest moment of growth, Rojka accepts the new power structure without argument.

I can't overstate how unusual this is. Few things are more important than power and pride in Sangheili culture. Many Sangheili prefer to die than admit to being injured. They prefer to be killed rather than captured. The most honorable way to replace a kaidon is a battle to the death. But Rojka is tired. He wants to go home. He agrees to be an envoy for Rak, having grown to appreciate the power of diplomacy.

Growth!!!!!! That's growth!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#its real rojka 'kasaan propaganda hours #give me a world-weary sangheili and i'll be writing paragraphs #it took me a while to decide how to structure this but when i searched my heart of hearts i knew one thing to be true:#i love him your honor #also adding entire pages of envoy for propaganda purposes. read it.#you want to read it #you want to embrace the possibilities of the joint occupation zone #rojka 'kassan #sangheili

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