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Description
High Charity

Chapter One
Soft pings echoed in the air as doors slid apart. Water flowed from artificial springs into canals made in imitation of nature. Voices of reverence sung by ancient beings hung in the thick air. Bright light from a synthetic illuminated the glorious city.

Heavy boots of red clomped against a metal floor as they tread through a holy sanctuary. Words of prayer emanated from his quadruple hinged jaw and hands were held up in worship. Guards in glowing armor stared at his crimson form as he passed through. They gave him a huff of respect as the three part door slid back into place with a clamp.

There he stood in a Mausoleum for heroes of ancient past. Lights blood red, like his Combat Harness, winked in a silent chorus which his shining Combat Harness reflected back. On either side of the of the Mausoleum were two platforms that curved with the structures design. And in the center, was the holiest of relics to his people: the armor of the Arbiter.

Vecr stood before the pod that had contained the historic artifact and genuflected. Though the armor was now in use, he held his four fingered hands up before the smooth pod and prayed.

Not to the gods.

Not to the Journey.

Not to the Prophets.

But to his ancestors. To those who fell before them.

He prayed silently as others of his kind gave up their own prayers.

He had been through much since The Ring. The pain, the anger. The fear.

He had been sighted drifting near the Rings satellite, very close to its gravity well. He was in peril of crashing into the planet when the Stealth Corvette Imminent Judgment had retrieved him. When discovered, Vecr had been half starved and severely injured, but he was predicted to return to full health within a week. The damages, as Vecr would later discover, were two of his mandibles were broken, his left wrist was shattered, thoracic cage completely broken, spine ruptured in three places, and his skull was fractured as well.

During rehabilitation, Vecrs hearts had failed three times and required immediate resuscitation through severe shock treatment. The overall rehabilitation process had actually taken twenty-one star rotations.

After the rehabilitation process was completed, Vecr had been sent to the Holy Covenant City for a period of permitted absence.

High Charity.

Vecr had been granted a small living quarters near the outskirts. It was small, but none too shabby. It had been about thirty rotations since the destruction of the Sacred Ring and each rotation Vecr made a pilgrimage to the Mausoleum of the Arbiter. And he prayed. It was the least he could do to honor all those who came before him.

As Vecr prayed before the teardrop shaped pod he received a transmission over the Comm-unit.

“Vecr ‘Xemoree, there is a ceremony that will be held in thirteen units in the Mausoleum of the Arbiter. Your presence has been requested.”

“As ordered.”

There had been strange occurrences lately. The High Prophet of Regret had left High Charity to an unknown destination. The destination had in fact been the humans homeworld! However, the humans defenses were heavy and the High Prophet of Regrets fleet had practically been destroyed. Many of Vecrs brothers had fallen and he prayed that their spirits had found the Journey. It was then the Prophet of Regret had fled and discovered the greatest, and possibly most horrible thing of all.

Another Sacred Ring.

During the final quarter of Vecrs stay, High Charity had made a slip-space jump to the second ring and all present witnessed the death of Regret. Though Vecr felt anger towards the humans for the casualties inflicted upon his kind, he could not help but feel his heart rejoice! Vecr had always believed the San ‘Shyuum did not deserve their elevated position in society.

As he walked back to his living quarters, Vecr recalled his species history with the San ‘Shyuum. They were pigs. Cowering behind a vessel the gods left behind, they would not even dare fight the Sangheili man for man. Had it not been for the vessels infinite might, the San ‘Shyuum would have died out long ago. Unfortunately, the conflict ended in a stalemate. The Sangheili were numerous and more powerful man to man. The San ’Shyuum had little numbers, were weak and fragile, but they possessed the gods vessel. And it alone could slay thousands of Sangheilian ships.

Vecr stepped into his temporary home as the main door slid apart with a gentle ping. With his mind not at rest Vecr sauntered his to the far end of the room. A data unit was suspended by gravity along the wall. It beckoned with its soft violet light bobbing up and down. He seemed to have lost control over his hands as they made the figure of a San ‘Shyuum. As data scrolled up the holographic projector in the common word, Vecr felt a twinge of fear. To delve into historical archives, especially one describing the Covenants founding races, was deemed heretical.

But fear left him as the data stopped scrolling. He sat down in a low purple chair and interpreted the writing.

One unit. Two units. Three. Time seemed to fly by as Vecr read the transcripts. After the fifth hour, Vecr came to the end of the data flow. He had to admit, he was disappointed. The transcript simply ended with the three current High Prophets declaring a new age. The Ninth Age of Reclamation.

Reclamation?

Vecr selected the word with a finger and watched as a new data flow emerged. It was a short and simple script, beginning with the declaration of war against the humans stating that they were an abomination before the Gods. It puzzled Vecr. What had the humans done to affront the gods? He continued on and sat confused the data flow ended with the discovery of the second Holy Ring. Intrigued, Vecr scrolled back up and studied the symbol of reclamation. It seemed so odd, luminous and deceiving. Vecr scratched his helmet out of habit and stuck a fist to his mandibles. Where had he seen the symbol before? He selected a list of translation verbiage and watched as words in the common language were attached to the gods letter. Reclamation, Reclamation. Where!? It had been present elsewhere, it had to have been!

Vecr selected another option and another list popped up. This one of similar glyphs. Vecr looked up and down desperately searching for another as he moved to the edge of his seat. Then he came to the human glyph. It was exactly like the Reclamation glyph but upside down. The specific glyph signified wherever humans were, thus making it easier to eradicate them. He selected the human glyph and watched as the data began scrolling along the holograph screen. Suddenly, Vecr slammed his fist down onto the data unit. He stared as the glyph was translated.

It had to bee some mistake! Some mistranslation! Some misconception in the data units translating software! But no, it was their. As plain as the methane tank on a Unggoys back. Vecr reeled over backwards as thought struck, knocking the chair across the room.

Reclaimer!

The glyph glowed softly, its light pulsing as though in mockery. How… Why… How could this be? The chosen!? The ones the Mantle was handed to after the gods departure!? And he had been senselessly slaughtering them by order of the Prophets. It… it was horrible! As fresh insanity began brewing in Vecrs already damaged brain, his comm-unit was activated.
“Vecr ‘Xemoree, your presence is requested immediately by order of the Councilors.”
“Forgive me. I am on my way.” he replied in a shaky voice.
Vecr left the small room, his hands rubbing one another while the door slid shut. As it made the soft characteristic ping, the data unit began to pulse slightly.

The Mausoleum was devoid of any souls save for a group of ten Zealots at its center. As the door hissed shut behind him one of the Zealots motioned for Vecr to join them. He trotted down the central ramp and genuflected before his superior officers. He looked up as they parted and through them walked a Councilor.

“Your deeds have impressed us Half-Commander. Long have you been loyal to the Prophets. Long have you fought with honor and courage.” He boomed as light was reflected from his helmets large crest.

“We are in need of warriors to fill the gap created by recent battles. And you have been a promising candidate.”

The immense Councilor motioned the Zealots forward. Six of the golden clad officers carried a white, shining piece of metal. Two unburdened ones began removing Vecrs crimson Combat Harness. Rapidly they finished, gathering all of the pieces and stood aside. Vecr kneeled bare, save for his Synthetic Second Skin. The Councilor crossed his massive arms.

“You have been selected to rise up to the greatest duty you can achieve.”

Two Zealots, carrying what Vecr now realized to be Deltoid Pads, stepped beside him and applied the protectors to his shoulders.

“A warrior dos not follow others into battle, a warrior leads the battle.”

Two more Zealots approached Vecr with thigh armor. They placed them onto his bent legs as the Synth-Skin adhered themselves to them.

“A warrior does not stand idle in a battle, a warrior inspires others in battle.”

Another pair slid heavy metal boots around Vecrs two toed feet.

“A warrior fights with the heart, not with the lust for blood.”

Two more placed iron gauntlets along Vecrs arm.

“A warrior uses his strength to destroy his enemies, not to sacrifice his brothers.”

The two last Zealots carried a glinting, pearly white harness, which both placed around Vecrs chest. The two pieces of the harness came together with a snap and hissed as the seams of the armor were sealed tight.

“A warrior does not use a shield, a warrior is a shield.”

The Councilor stepped towards Vecr carrying a gloriously bright helmet. He stopped before Vecrs kneeling form and slowly placed it upon his head.

“A warrior fights for his brothers, for his home, and for the Journey.”

The Councilor stepped back.

“Rise brother, and behold the glory that you have become.”

Vecr complied and stood wearing his blinding uniform. Its white sheen radiated in the Mausoleums low lighting. He flexed his hands as the Councilor approached him with another gift.

“A warrior uses his sword to bring swift death to his enemies while using his life as a shield.”

The Councilor held out his palm, and within lay a short handle. Vecr retrieved the object and studied it, rolling it firmly in his grip. It was indeed a handle and possessed a large ridge on its center. On both ends, the handle had numerous glyphs along its edges that glowed a soft white light. Vecr held it up and snapped his arm down. As the action was carried out, two blades of luminous light erupted from each end crackled with fierce energy as electricity rode up and down its length.

“This is a symbol of your authority Commander. It represents the power that the Sangheili have wielded for countless millennia. Use it with honor.”

Vecr nodded as the Councilor and Zealots turned to leave. Vecr watched them go as he stared at the blade in his grasp. How could one be rewarded for the slaughtering of innocents? How could one live with himself knowing that he murders those he professes to revere? He snapped his arm once again and the blade retreated back into the handle. Vecr placed it on his thigh, feeling it take hold, and began walking back to his living quarters.

He strolled through the entrance and headed for the rooms holographic reflector a small camera that projected all in front of it onto a small screen. Vecr admired the pearly white armor that covered his entire form while it glinted in the soft light with a iridescent sheen.

“Glorious…” Vecr mumbled. “But do I truly deserve it?”

It was then Vecr looked over to the data unit he had left before and noticed something different. At first he could not tell, he was simply too far away. But after inching his way closer he soon realized what. The data was changed. Vecrs twin hearts began to beat faster as he came closer and closer to the data unit. On its holographic screen there pulsed one word.

Heretic.

“To ignore the Prophets word is heresy infidel.” a low gruff voice growled.

Description
High Charity

Chapter One
Soft pings echoed in the air as doors slid apart. Water flowed from artificial springs into canals made in imitation of nature. Voices of reverence sung by ancient beings hung in the thick air. Bright light from a synthetic illuminated the glorious city.

Heavy boots of red clomped against a metal floor as they tread through a holy sanctuary. Words of prayer emanated from his quadruple hinged jaw and hands were held up in worship. Guards in glowing armor stared at his crimson form as he passed through. They gave him a huff of respect as the three part door slid back into place with a clamp.

There he stood in a Mausoleum for heroes of ancient past. Lights blood red, like his Combat Harness, winked in a silent chorus which his shining Combat Harness reflected back. On either side of the of the Mausoleum were two platforms that curved with the structures design. And in the center, was the holiest of relics to his people: the armor of the Arbiter.

Vecr stood before the pod that had contained the historic artifact and genuflected. Though the armor was now in use, he held his four fingered hands up before the smooth pod and prayed.

Not to the gods.

Not to the Journey.

Not to the Prophets.

But to his ancestors. To those who fell before them.

He prayed silently as others of his kind gave up their own prayers.

He had been through much since The Ring. The pain, the anger. The fear.

He had been sighted drifting near the Rings satellite, very close to its gravity well. He was in peril of crashing into the planet when the Stealth Corvette Imminent Judgment had retrieved him. When discovered, Vecr had been half starved and severely injured, but he was predicted to return to full health within a week. The damages, as Vecr would later discover, were two of his mandibles were broken, his left wrist was shattered, thoracic cage completely broken, spine ruptured in three places, and his skull was fractured as well.

During rehabilitation, Vecrs hearts had failed three times and required immediate resuscitation through severe shock treatment. The overall rehabilitation process had actually taken twenty-one star rotations.

After the rehabilitation process was completed, Vecr had been sent to the Holy Covenant City for a period of permitted absence.

High Charity.

Vecr had been granted a small living quarters near the outskirts. It was small, but none too shabby. It had been about thirty rotations since the destruction of the Sacred Ring and each rotation Vecr made a pilgrimage to the Mausoleum of the Arbiter. And he prayed. It was the least he could do to honor all those who came before him.

As Vecr prayed before the teardrop shaped pod he received a transmission over the Comm-unit.

“Vecr ‘Xemoree, there is a ceremony that will be held in thirteen units in the Mausoleum of the Arbiter. Your presence has been requested.”

“As ordered.”

There had been strange occurrences lately. The High Prophet of Regret had left High Charity to an unknown destination. The destination had in fact been the humans homeworld! However, the humans defenses were heavy and the High Prophet of Regrets fleet had practically been destroyed. Many of Vecrs brothers had fallen and he prayed that their spirits had found the Journey. It was then the Prophet of Regret had fled and discovered the greatest, and possibly most horrible thing of all.

Another Sacred Ring.

During the final quarter of Vecrs stay, High Charity had made a slip-space jump to the second ring and all present witnessed the death of Regret. Though Vecr felt anger towards the humans for the casualties inflicted upon his kind, he could not help but feel his heart rejoice! Vecr had always believed the San ‘Shyuum did not deserve their elevated position in society.

As he walked back to his living quarters, Vecr recalled his species history with the San ‘Shyuum. They were pigs. Cowering behind a vessel the gods left behind, they would not even dare fight the Sangheili man for man. Had it not been for the vessels infinite might, the San ‘Shyuum would have died out long ago. Unfortunately, the conflict ended in a stalemate. The Sangheili were numerous and more powerful man to man. The San ’Shyuum had little numbers, were weak and fragile, but they possessed the gods vessel. And it alone could slay thousands of Sangheilian ships.

Vecr stepped into his temporary home as the main door slid apart with a gentle ping. With his mind not at rest Vecr sauntered his to the far end of the room. A data unit was suspended by gravity along the wall. It beckoned with its soft violet light bobbing up and down. He seemed to have lost control over his hands as they made the figure of a San ‘Shyuum. As data scrolled up the holographic projector in the common word, Vecr felt a twinge of fear. To delve into historical archives, especially one describing the Covenants founding races, was deemed heretical.

But fear left him as the data stopped scrolling. He sat down in a low purple chair and interpreted the writing.

One unit. Two units. Three. Time seemed to fly by as Vecr read the transcripts. After the fifth hour, Vecr came to the end of the data flow. He had to admit, he was disappointed. The transcript simply ended with the three current High Prophets declaring a new age. The Ninth Age of Reclamation.

Reclamation?

Vecr selected the word with a finger and watched as a new data flow emerged. It was a short and simple script, beginning with the declaration of war against the humans stating that they were an abomination before the Gods. It puzzled Vecr. What had the humans done to affront the gods? He continued on and sat confused the data flow ended with the discovery of the second Holy Ring. Intrigued, Vecr scrolled back up and studied the symbol of reclamation. It seemed so odd, luminous and deceiving. Vecr scratched his helmet out of habit and stuck a fist to his mandibles. Where had he seen the symbol before? He selected a list of translation verbiage and watched as words in the common language were attached to the gods letter. Reclamation, Reclamation. Where!? It had been present elsewhere, it had to have been!

Vecr selected another option and another list popped up. This one of similar glyphs. Vecr looked up and down desperately searching for another as he moved to the edge of his seat. Then he came to the human glyph. It was exactly like the Reclamation glyph but upside down. The specific glyph signified wherever humans were, thus making it easier to eradicate them. He selected the human glyph and watched as the data began scrolling along the holograph screen. Suddenly, Vecr slammed his fist down onto the data unit. He stared as the glyph was translated.

It had to bee some mistake! Some mistranslation! Some misconception in the data units translating software! But no, it was their. As plain as the methane tank on a Unggoys back. Vecr reeled over backwards as thought struck, knocking the chair across the room.

Reclaimer!

The glyph glowed softly, its light pulsing as though in mockery. How… Why… How could this be? The chosen!? The ones the Mantle was handed to after the gods departure!? And he had been senselessly slaughtering them by order of the Prophets. It… it was horrible! As fresh insanity began brewing in Vecrs already damaged brain, his comm-unit was activated.
“Vecr ‘Xemoree, your presence is requested immediately by order of the Councilors.”
“Forgive me. I am on my way.” he replied in a shaky voice.
Vecr left the small room, his hands rubbing one another while the door slid shut. As it made the soft characteristic ping, the data unit began to pulse slightly.

The Mausoleum was devoid of any souls save for a group of ten Zealots at its center. As the door hissed shut behind him one of the Zealots motioned for Vecr to join them. He trotted down the central ramp and genuflected before his superior officers. He looked up as they parted and through them walked a Councilor.

“Your deeds have impressed us Half-Commander. Long have you been loyal to the Prophets. Long have you fought with honor and courage.” He boomed as light was reflected from his helmets large crest.

“We are in need of warriors to fill the gap created by recent battles. And you have been a promising candidate.”

The immense Councilor motioned the Zealots forward. Six of the golden clad officers carried a white, shining piece of metal. Two unburdened ones began removing Vecrs crimson Combat Harness. Rapidly they finished, gathering all of the pieces and stood aside. Vecr kneeled bare, save for his Synthetic Second Skin. The Councilor crossed his massive arms.

“You have been selected to rise up to the greatest duty you can achieve.”

Two Zealots, carrying what Vecr now realized to be Deltoid Pads, stepped beside him and applied the protectors to his shoulders.

“A warrior dos not follow others into battle, a warrior leads the battle.”

Two more Zealots approached Vecr with thigh armor. They placed them onto his bent legs as the Synth-Skin adhered themselves to them.

“A warrior does not stand idle in a battle, a warrior inspires others in battle.”

Another pair slid heavy metal boots around Vecrs two toed feet.

“A warrior fights with the heart, not with the lust for blood.”

Two more placed iron gauntlets along Vecrs arm.

“A warrior uses his strength to destroy his enemies, not to sacrifice his brothers.”

The two last Zealots carried a glinting, pearly white harness, which both placed around Vecrs chest. The two pieces of the harness came together with a snap and hissed as the seams of the armor were sealed tight.

“A warrior does not use a shield, a warrior is a shield.”

The Councilor stepped towards Vecr carrying a gloriously bright helmet. He stopped before Vecrs kneeling form and slowly placed it upon his head.

“A warrior fights for his brothers, for his home, and for the Journey.”

The Councilor stepped back.

“Rise brother, and behold the glory that you have become.”

Vecr complied and stood wearing his blinding uniform. Its white sheen radiated in the Mausoleums low lighting. He flexed his hands as the Councilor approached him with another gift.

“A warrior uses his sword to bring swift death to his enemies while using his life as a shield.”

The Councilor held out his palm, and within lay a short handle. Vecr retrieved the object and studied it, rolling it firmly in his grip. It was indeed a handle and possessed a large ridge on its center. On both ends, the handle had numerous glyphs along its edges that glowed a soft white light. Vecr held it up and snapped his arm down. As the action was carried out, two blades of luminous light erupted from each end crackled with fierce energy as electricity rode up and down its length.

“This is a symbol of your authority Commander. It represents the power that the Sangheili have wielded for countless millennia. Use it with honor.”

Vecr nodded as the Councilor and Zealots turned to leave. Vecr watched them go as he stared at the blade in his grasp. How could one be rewarded for the slaughtering of innocents? How could one live with himself knowing that he murders those he professes to revere? He snapped his arm once again and the blade retreated back into the handle. Vecr placed it on his thigh, feeling it take hold, and began walking back to his living quarters.

He strolled through the entrance and headed for the rooms holographic reflector a small camera that projected all in front of it onto a small screen. Vecr admired the pearly white armor that covered his entire form while it glinted in the soft light with a iridescent sheen.

“Glorious…” Vecr mumbled. “But do I truly deserve it?”

It was then Vecr looked over to the data unit he had left before and noticed something different. At first he could not tell, he was simply too far away. But after inching his way closer he soon realized what. The data was changed. Vecrs twin hearts began to beat faster as he came closer and closer to the data unit. On its holographic screen there pulsed one word.

Heretic.

“To ignore the Prophets word is heresy infidel.” a low gruff voice growled.