Concurrence Chapter 4-2

2383 words. Sorry its a little less wordy this time round but I'll have more soon.

The Major stepped through the blast doors, calling back over his shoulder: “You have no reason to know my sources.”

Echoing her own words made her mandibles twitch in anger, the Elite following him through to the next street over. As she stepped off the metal blockade, the door returned to its closed state, the sudden grating of machinery making the Elite whip around in alarm.

“You can control these barriers?” she asked him, the two watching as the blockade settled with a final electric whir.

“Not exactly,” he replied cryptically. He set off without waiting for her, the Elite checking the area with her carbine as she followed.

Seela

Streets of New Mombasa

Seven Hours After Rupture

She and the Imp passed through another of those big, blast doors the little creature could somehow open by simply walking up to one. She remembered how much of a nuisance they had been in her recent time in the Covenant, where squads had to be ferried over by Phantom whenever they encountered such an obstacle. The Field Marshal had often grumbled about their inconveniency, and she doubted his replacement had anything otherwise to say about them.

She wondered what had become of the Marshal. Had the Prophet himself executed him the moment he boarded the carrier? Surely not, he was too cowardly to face his adversaries face to face, the fact the Prophet had lured him onto his ship under false orders was proof enough of that. He’d have ordered one of the Brutes to make the kill, perhaps even had him executed on the dropship. She chastised herself for ever fearing the Prophets, trepidation had no place when dealing with a foe who relied on subterfuge.

The road she and the Imp followed ended at an intersection, and as her companion turned down the left branch, she called for him to stop. Putting one of her thumbs to her helmet, she tuned her communicator to a channel which had suddenly picked up activity.

“Rahanis,” a voice growled through her helmet. “Take your pack and move west, were there any Heretics in your sector?”

The Imp turned around, peering up at her and shrugging.

“What is it?”

Ignoring his curt tone, she said: “I am picking up communications between two Jiralhanae.”

“Jiral-what now?”

“Brutes. Now be quiet.” She turned her head away so the plinking of rain falling on her helmet wasn’t so loud.

“No, Chieftain. Sector…” The Jiralhanae listed off a series of numbers. “-is clear, we’re moving on.”

Seela knew that list of numbers, all Covenant troops in this invasion did, and according to her memory, she wasn’t very far away from this Rahanis packmate.

“A Brute patrol will come from that way soon,” she said, pointing behind the Imp.

“How can you tell?” he asked.

“It seems the Jiralhanae failed to switch their communication channels,” she said with an amused huff. “As if the moronic apes could even figure out how to do that. They are still using frequencies I have access to, no encryption.”

“Probably thought they wiped you all out,” the Imp suggested. “Didn’t bother.”

“Perhaps, but the Jiralhanae have always been dense,” she answered. “I can pinpoint positions of their patrols as long as they stay in contact with their Chieftain.”

“Good, that’ll help us slip through their lines,” the Imp muttered. “Where to then?”

Seela hesitated, having never been asked for advice before. Not being bossed around was quite novel, but the fact this creature was behind the act still left a sour taste in her mouth.

“We should move that way,” she said, pointing to the right fork. “And quickly, the Brutes will be here soon.”

They walked on for a while longer, Seela making sure the Imp was always ten or so of her paces in front of her. The streets all looked the same to her, but the creature appeared to have a destination in mind, but with no references they may as well be running circles for all she knew.

“I need to stop,” the Imp said after some time. “Feet are killing me. I’ve been walking for hours straight.”

She didn’t know how long an hour was, but Seela hadn’t stopped moving ever since dropping out of that Phantom, and her hooves were starting to hurt. “Very well,” she said. “anything to get out of this incessant rain.”

Her bodysuit was helping to stave off the cold, but hours in the wet was starting to get to her. The Imp turned a few more corners, then slipped into one of the buildings that lined the street, Seela ducking into the doorframe after him.

There was stairwell right in front of the entrance, but part of the ceiling had come down on it, blocking the way. The Imp moved off to the right into an adjacent room, the creature sitting himself into one of the chairs surrounding a tiny table.

Seela followed him into the cramped interior, having to duck to avoid hitting her head on the arches. “Humans live in these tiny spaces?” she asked, noticing apart from the upstairs, this was all the room in the building.

He didn’t answer her, the Imp tearing off a patch of its armour on its shoulder, repeating its earlier healing as it examined its wound.

“Did you not just rub that… gel onto yourself?” she asked, water dripping off her armoured plates as she examined one of the chairs. They were way too small, so she opted to just cross her legs and sit down on the floor as far away from the Imp as she could manage, resting her carbine on her knees.

“Gotta keep an eye on it, in case the skin opens again,” he replied. It seemed Imps did not possess the regenerative properties she had been led to believe, or perhaps they used the same medicine Humans did. Strange…

“Haven’t got as much blood as you have, clearly,” he added, nodding at the spot the spike grenade had punctured her armour. The trickle of her blood from the wound was so consistent, even the rain hadn’t managed to wash it away.

“The sight of one’s blood is a sign of a hard-fought battle,” she said. “And it does not bother me. On the contrary, I have always thought seeing myself bleed to be… salubrious.”

“Salubrious?” the Imp echoed. “An alien has better diction than me. What a world.”

“The Human language holds a kind of strange satisfaction for my throat,” she answered, feeling nostalgic as she remembered spending the hours between deployments in her quarters, brushing up on Human tongue. “There are many intriguing words that seem to roll off my mandibles, such as… ubiquitous. I’ve always wanted to use that word in a sentence,” she added.

“Haven’t had the chance, huh?” he asked. “Too busy killing us all to work on your vocabulary? Sound about right?”

“I told you, I fought only because it was my duty to the Covenant,” she said, trying to sound neutral but failing when her impatience got the better of her. “To take pleasure in killing, to revel in it, is the way of the Jiralhanae, not mine.”

“Yeah, you’re ‘different’, right?” he asked, Seela suspecting he was mocking her. “You’re not like the other aliens, you’ve always sympathised with humans, thought the Covenant always was in the wrong.”

“I was proud to be in the Covenant,” Seela explained. “my kinsman within the higher ranks promised me renown and glory few females ever got to experience. It was not perfect,” she added, shaking her head. “but with great challenge comes greater glory, so my father said, and I was brought no small measure of satisfaction as I battled my way through the front lines, besting Human after Human, watching my chauvinistic brother’s faces as they witnessed my victories. Yet it seems the Covenant was corrupted at some point, by both Jiralhanae and San’shyuum political interests. If only a creature such as you could understand what it means to have been betrayed by the one thing you devoted everything to.”

“I understand that you’re still a Covvie,” the Imp replied. “If your kind hadn’t been kicked out, you’d still be serving the Prophets.”

“Me and my kin were unaware of their intentions,” she said. “If I had known sooner the Prophets were so cowardly, I’d have…” She trailed off.

“Ignorance is the worst kind of shield you can use, split lip,” he muttered. “You’re still a killer.”

“And what of you? How many of my kin have you slain?” she said, turning the conversation back on him.

“Not enough,” he replied after a pause.

“You criticize me for taking life, yet I have witnessed firsthand the ferocity of you Imps. Do not think yourself better than I, we have both dealt our fair share of death. You might have even surpassed me, the way you butchered the Brutes back in the station.”

The Imp turned back to his injury, dropping the subject. She had used his combat prowess as a weapon against him, but a part of her was impressed by his tenacity. He was as small as a Human, but didn’t seem to let that stop him.

“Why are you here, Imp?” she asked, his visor meeting her gaze. “Your kind usually work in small groups, I’ve never seen one alone.”

“And I’ve never seen an Elite by itself either,” he replied with a shrug. “So what?”

“I see you only like to talk when the topic isn’t about you,” Seela grumbled. “Shall we sit in silence while your wounds mend?”

After a bit of staring, the Imp relented. “I dropped in with three others not long after your carrier jumped away. We got knocked off course by anti-air fire, I don’t know where my team ended up, or if they’re even alive.”

“And you are trying to find them?” she asked.

“Take too long to comb the whole city,” he said. “If they’re alive, they’ll head towards our objectives, just like I am.”

“What do you hope to accomplish in the very centre of the Covenant foothold? Surely you do not plan on taking the city back?”

“Not exactly,” he replied. “the city is lost, everyone in the Corps knows it, but the Covenant brought something with them, a weapon that could turn the tide. I’m going to recover it, even if it kills me.”

“A weapon?” Seela echoed. Perhaps he was talking about the Forerunner artifact the Zealot alluded to. Even if she wasn’t a part of the Great journey anymore, the reverence she held for the ancient aliens made Seela hold her tongue, she did not want to reveal their holy presence to a Heretic.

“What about you?” the Imp continued, Seela cocking her head at him. “How come you’re all alone? Didn’t see any other Elites back at Kikowani.”

“I was sent out with a procession of Kig-Yar and Unggoy, along with a Brute,” she said, the memory making her fume. The Captain Major had made sure to keep her kinsman isolated, she couldn’t deny his betrayal had been well planned, but he’d been a fool to think one Minor would be enough to deal with her. She would make sure he’d regret underestimating her.

“I was stranded once the carrier jumped,” Seela continued. “I’ve not heard from any of my brothers since, and I don’t know how many survived the betrayal. You and I seem to share this in common,” she added. “Worrying if we are the last ones alive, surrounded by our enemies.”

“I’m never worried,” he defended. “Me and my team know what we’re doing, we know what’s at stake if we let themselves get distracted.”

“You certainly live up to your devilish namesake,” she noted, hearing the far-off sound of a passing Phantom. It didn’t grow in volume, Seela trying to relax her muscles as she leant on an elbow. “You spoke of your objectives in the plural,” she said. “What are the others?”

“Minor things,” he replied. “Subterfuge, surgical strikes. Wrote them off as soon as I realised my team was separated. Can’t take on an outpost as a one-man army.”

“Two,” Seela corrected. “I am not going anywhere.”

“Yes you are,” he said, rising to his feet as she narrowed her eyes at him. “We’ve sat around long enough, we must keep moving,” he added.

Seela gestured for him to proceed, watching the Imp as he led her back onto the street, the rain dripping off their armours as they followed the road along to the left, the Imp eventually coming across another of those ‘kiosks’ he used to mark his way through the city, tapping his gloved hands at the screen.

Wary of any more Phantoms that might interrupt, Seela looked over helmet at the map, the Imp so short he barely reached her chest. Their destination apparently lied in the middle of a body of water, close to the city limits.

“There is no land route towards your ‘weapon’,” Seela noted, sweeping her rifle across the buildings, her eyes fighting against the jarring fluorescents on the facades.

“There’s hopefully a bridge, or something,” he muttered, turning and angling his helmet up at her when she grumbled under breath.

“You don’t know?” she asked. “How did you plan on getting to this weapon without knowing the terrain?”

“Supposed to drop right on top of it,” he explained. “Didn’t plan on getting caught out here with my pants down and an Elite at my back.”

“I hope you do not plan on swimming to wherever it is we are going,” she muttered.

“Afraid of a little water?” he asked, his tone suggesting he was smiling.

“Water is a nuisance,” she replied, fidgeting about as the rain dripped down her neck to wet her skin. “Argh, I can feel it slipping through my suit and trickling down my spine…”

The Imp chuckled, the little devil apparently finding her plight amusing. “I’ll fetch you a towel if we get the chance,” he said, turning away to follow the route the kiosk suggested. “You can always leave, you know,” he added. “Go hide out and wait for your split lip buddies to arrive.”

“To wait is to die,” she snapped. “I will meet my end on my own terms, even if it means having a Heretic as company.”

He gave her a look over his shoulder, shaking his head as he pressed on down the road.