Halo: True Sangheili (Part Five is available)

Aw, Sorran died!

Fuck you, frog, make him magically come back to life!

He didn't die. That would be silly. More will come.

Here's part four, should be a bit better than the last part, which I was a little disappointed with; I may rewrite it. Enjoy.

Part Four - Into Custody

Pain. Intolerable, inescapable pain was all Sorran Mahaf'ee felt, as he lay in the darkness. Was he dead? No, he can't have been. It looked nothing like the Great Journey. A dark void, devoid of light and sound, only his muddled thoughts present.

Panic gripped him: what if there was no Great Journey? What if the Prophet's had lied? Was he doomed to spend all of eternity drifting in the darkness, with heavy footfall echoing around him?

Wait; footfall? Yes, the unmistakable sound of feet meeting ground was distinguishable. Perhaps he wasn't dead after all!

His suspicions were furthered as he heard voices, tiny and distant. At first, it was like a whisper, drone like. The voices grew louder though, and Sorran realised with dread that they weren't Sangheili, nor belonging to any other species of the Covenant. They were human!

Sorran wished he could see, perhaps if he could, then he wouldn't be so afraid. But he couldn't, his eyes were shut tight. Or, he suddenly thought with horror, maybe he was blind! He put those dreadful thoughts out of his mind for the time being, and concentrated on the two voices.

"I don't think there are any survivors sir." The first said, deep and echoing, as if the human was wearing a helmet.

"Well if you find one son, don't kill it. We don't have much Intel on what the Covenant are doing on Eridanus II, so if we can capture one of the higher ranking soldiers, then we can interrogate it." The other, older sounding voice spoke.

"Roger that." The first voice replied.

Sorran tried to stay still, realising that these humans were looking for survivors, in other words, him.

Slowly, Sorran's vision restored, to his relief. He could see directly in front of him now, and nearly jumped up there and then in disgust.

A mutilated Sangheili was before him; right before him, the dead warrior's ripped open, bloody chest mere centimetres from Sorran's face.

Instinctively, Sorran shifted a fraction away from the body. A mistake, as he felt a new rush of pain as he did so, through his leg. It must have been broken. Sorran couldn't help it, he yowled in agony, and sensed the two humans turn their heads towards him, even though they were behind him.

"I guess it's your lucky day sir, here's one of their so called Elite Warriors, alive and kicking." The first human said, and Sorran felt a figure come up behind him.

Sorran braced his arm, and prepared to punch the human behind him. Humans were laughably weak, and Sorran knew that even in his decrepit, weakened state, he could probably knock it out, and perhaps level the weapon it likely held at the other human before it could react.

Gritting his jaw, Sorran ignored the pain and spun around, his fist an iron club. He felt his ragged flesh smash into the human's chestplate with a ping, but it didn't have the desired effect. The human merely laughed. It didn't even fall to the ground. Impossible. More curious than afraid, Sorran lifted his head so he could actually see the human he just tried to take out, and shirked away in fear.

Looking down at him, emotionless, was a mirrored, golden visor. Sorran knew that behind that mask burned the very fires of hell.

"D-d-d-demon!" Sorran shrieked, and attempted to rise off the floor. He managed to do so, yet before he could take a single step his legs gave out underneath him, and his face smashed into the rock below, cutting his face; displaying that his shields were damaged. The Demon bent down, and scooped up Sorran like he weighed nothing.

"Yeah, you'd better be afraid." The Demon threatened, driving an armoured fist into Sorran's gut. Sorran cried out, and coughed up blood. He felt himself being slung over the Demon's shoulder, and didn't resist. There was no way he could fight something like that. Even Hunters were afraid of the Demons.

"No trouble zero-seven-eight?" The second human asked, and Sorran looked at him. This one wasn't a Demon, but seemed to be in command.

"It tried to prick me with it's sting Lieutenant, but I've got it under control. I'd knock it out, but we don't want to run the risk of brain damage. Should we get back to the Pelican sir?" The Demon asked, and the Lieutenant nodded.

"Lead on zero-seven-eight, out work here is done."

Sorran's head was swimming, and he was only vaguely aware of what was happening. He felt himself being lead out of the outpost, and the next thing he knew, he was being slung into the back of one of the humans air transports. Sorran coughed, and looked up. There were other humans in the transport, and they seemed to be afraid of Sorran. They looked at each other nervously.

The Demon got on board, and slung Sorran into a seat. He felt his head smash against the metal interior of the 'Pelican', and his hand came away from the back of his head warm and sticky with purple blood.

"You try anything, and I will break you like a twig." The Demon said, tying Sorran's hands together, as well as his legs. It was a crude material, the humans hadn't even worked out how to use energy as a means to bind someone. Still, the rough rope did the job, and Sorran couldn't move in his pitiful state. All he could do was cower in fear.

What were these humans going to do to him? His thoughts were drowned out as the human transport lifted off the ground, and it sailed off into the distance. Sorran thought about trying to jump out, the hatch was open, and he could probably survive the fall. But there was the Demon to think about, it would either grab him or shoot him before he could reach the ground. Sorran sighed, and wished he was still in his Library, back before all of this mess had begun.

Far below in the outpost, Zharn Refun'ee disengaged his active camouflage, and watched the humans leave with Sorran. At least he'd managed to slip a tracker onto the drop ship before it had left. He hadn't dared to do more, the Demon was more than a match for him.

Kicking the ground in frustration, Zharn once again activated his camouflage, and set off in pursuit of the glowing beacon on his display.

He would rescue his warrior, no matter the danger.

Part Five -- Interrogated

Sorran was thrown into a small cell by an entourage of five humans, not Demons. Perhaps, if Sorran hadn't been so weak, and his shields had been functioning, he could have overcome them. As he was though, there was no possible way he could have done so.

As he staggered into the cell, desperately trying to keep his balance, the Sangheili heard a heavy steel door shut behind him. Sorran's eyes searched the room, yet he could find no possible way to escape. He was trapped in the room, reinforced steel surrounding him.

A motion in an upper corner of the room caught his eye. It looked like a lens, encased by a white box. A camera, if Sorran's studies of human technology were anything to go by. He was being watched.

A table sat in the middle of the room, with a large chair next to it. Evidently, if the size of the two pieces of furniture were anything to go by, this room had been catered to Sorran's needs. On the table sat a plate of human food, and a mug of what seemed to be tea; a human beverage popular amongst some Sangheili. They were both, Sorran presumed, for him.

The Sangheili Minor sat down in the chair, and found it to be relatively comfy. Odd, that the humans would care about how settled the enemy was. Sorran had been expecting chains and a dark, dingy dungeon. Strange.

He was, however, reluctant to touch the food, at first. What if it were laced with poison? Sorran put that thought out of his mind; if they wanted him dead, then he would already be lying face down in a ditch. No, these humans evidently wanted to question him. So without further pause, Sorran wolfed down the food, attempting to soothe the hunger which gripped him. The mug of tea soothed him, the warmth spreading through his shaking body. The camera remained trained upon him the entirety of the time. There was no doubt in his mind that every move he made was being scrutinised by human experts.

Time crept by, and Sorran took the opportunity to rest. He refused to fall asleep though, after all, he was in enemy territory.

Hours later, and Sorran could not tell whether it were morning or night, a bolt clicked in the steel door confining him, and a human walked in, flanked by three marines, as they were known. The lead human didn't seem to be a soldier, he wore no visible fire arm, and was dressed casually, in a shirt and loose trousers. Not the rigid, militaristic uniform the others wore. To Sorran's bemusement, the man gave him a warm smile, yet it didn't quite extend to the eyes. Strange, once again. It was almost as if the humans were trying to convince him they were friendly...

Aha, that's what they were trying to do, Sorran realised suddenly, they were acting friendly so he wouldn't feel intimidated, and thus, he would release more information, in theory. Undoubtedly, once they had what they needed, the humans would toss him in a ditch somewhere.

Then again, perhaps they were trying to broker a piece of sorts, it would be understandable that they would've mistaken Sorran to be a high ranking soldier in the Covenant hierarchy. They would be disappointed to learn the truth.

Regardless, the human pressed a button, and a stool rose out of the floor, on the other side of the table. He sat down, and faced Sorran. Sorran tried to keep his features blank, to keep the fear out of his expression. Then again, how was a mere human to know what a nervous Sangheili looked like?

"Good morning." The human greeted, confirming the time of day. "My name's Ambassador Errand, how are you?"

Sorran remained silent, this so called Ambassador of the humans would get nothing out of him. Sorran huffed, and crossed his arms in defiance. He noticed that one marine tightened his grip on a side arm.

"Yes...quite." Errand replied somewhat nervously, his smile faded slightly. " You are an Elite yes? One of the Covenant officers?"

An Elite? Sorran had never heard the term used before. The Ambassador evidently was confused. But, to some degree at least, Sorran was a Covenant officer. He commanded Unggoy, Kig-Yar, Drones, lower class Hunters, and if the situation required it, the Brutes.

"Elite?" Sorran simply phrased, trying to seem disinterested. Errand saw the opening though, and launched into a reply.

"Yes, it's the name we have given to your race. Do you..uh..have another which would be more apt?"

Sorran remained silent, he was not going to divulge any information to these barbarians.

"Elite is good then?" The Ambassador asked, clearly mistaking Sorran's silence as a yes.

"If you wish it so." The Sangheili replied coldly.

"Good, good. Now, as you are no doubt aware, Elite, you are now a prisoner of war." Errand stated, as if something like that happened every day.

"I see. Am I to be executed?" Sorran asked, trying to seem like it didn't matter. The reality was that he was terrified of dying. Yet he knew breaking down in front of the humans would not help.

"Executed? No, it would achieve nothing. You are far more valuable to us alive." Errand replied, prompting a nod from Sorran.

"That is understandable. Now, why have you come here? I am sure it was not to exchange pleasantries human." Sorran replied, noting the wince the Ambassador gave when he spoke the word 'human'.

"Why are the Covenant attacking us?" Ambassador Errand asked, his voice thick with emotion. "What did we ever to to you?"

The question caught Sorran by surprise, and he searched for the answer. Then he realised, he didn't have one. He fought because he had been told to, nothing more, nothing less.

"I. . .know not." Sorran replied to the question, feeling foolish and ignorant. One of the marines scoffed.

"He doesn't know why he's fighting us? Yeah right, and my girl back home's a super model!" The marine said, and the others found this funny. The joke was lost upon Sorran though.

"I think he's telling the truth guys." The Ambassador said, and the marines stopped laughing.

"Seriously? You don't even know why you're attacking? That's pretty sad." A marine said, and Sorran grew angry -- how dare these infidels question the glorious Covenant's motives!

"Nay, what is truly sad, human, is how your pitiful species cannot withstand our might." Sorran replied, in the heat of the moment. He regretted it afterwards, it wasn't their fault they were weaker, and less advanced.

"Right, that's it squid face!" The burliest of the marines shouted at Sorran, ramming his rifle into the side of Sorran's face. Sorran flinched, yet did not retaliate. Luckily, the other marines restrained their friend, although, Sorran noted, they did it reluctantly.

"Let's all calm down here shall we?" Ambassador Errand soothed, looking nervously upon Sorran. He remained still.

"So you know nothing?" Errand asked anxiously, and swore when Sorran wouldn't answer, "dammit, we're getting nowhere here. Maybe I should ask the Spartan to do the questioning."

A thinly veiled threat, yet one which Sorran detected instantly. Fear showed upon his face.

"No, I will talk, just don't bring the Demon in here. . .please." Sorran pleaded, disgusted with himself. What kind of a warrior was he, to break down at the first threat? Not a warrior at all, he reminded himself, but a scholar in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Would the Covenant rescue him? Bah, unlikely. Even if they knew where he was, Sorran doubted they would waste time and resources saving him. It was more likely they would send an Assassin to silence him, doing so would be simpler and more efficient than a rescue operation.

Smart choice freak," one of the marines said smugly. He would not be so smug were he facing Sorran on an open battlefield, him with a sword in hand.

"Tell us then, what do you know?" the Ambassador whispered. Gone was the smile, replaced by a frown. Sorran felt afraid.

"Human, until but a week ago, I was a librarian upon High--" Sorran stopped himself, realising he had nearly revealed the name of the holy city, "upon a ship in our fleet." he lied "I know little of the Covenant's plans."

"A librarian? Hard to imagine you stacking books you monster," the same aggressive marine taunted, and Sorran growled a warning. The human was beginning to try his patience.

"What is your rank in the Covenant Elite?" Ambassador Errand asked.

"Minor Sangheili." Sorran replied curtly.

"Sangheili? What is that?"

"The name of our species."

"Ah, I see. Who do you command, if anyone?"

"The lower caste of the Covenant; Unggoy, Kig-Yar, Yan'mee, Mglekgolo, Jiralhanae. Not other Sangheili, nor the Prophets."

"Whoa there, slow down. I didn't understand anything what you just said, speak English. I'll hold up photos, and you'll identify them for me."

And so the human held up images for Sorran, which he promptly identified. He felt like a traitor, selling out these secrets, but what else could he do?

"So," Errand said, once Sorran had finished, "let me get this straight. Grunts are called Unggoy, Jackals are called Kig-Yar, Drones are called Yan'mee, Hunters are called. . . bloody hell, I can't pronounce it..."

"Mglekgolo." Sorran filled in for him.

"Right, and the Brutes are called Jiralhanae, and your race, the Elites are named Sangheili. Is that right?"

The Sangheili nodded. He felt sick.

"Good, good. We're making progress. This information will be very helpful, thanks. And, one more question, what is a 'Prophet'?"

Sorran perked up. The fools didn't know what a Prophet was, they had no image of one. He decided to play dumb.

"Prophet? What do you mean?" The Minor pretended not to know.

"Don't play coy with me alien, you don't want to see me angry. Before, you mentioned a Prophet. What did you mean by that?" The Ambassador retaliated angrily.

"I know not what you speak of." Sorran replied tartly, hoping the human wouldn't be able to detect he was lying.

Errand narrowed his eyes, although what that signified amongst the humans was unknown to Sorran. To the Sangheili, it showed suspicion, perhaps it meant the same for the humans too.

"You're a liar alien, I can sense it. You said Prophet, we've got proof on tape. Sergeant Harper, beat the truth out of our guest would you?" Errand asked of one of the marines, who grinned wickedly, and walked over the Sorran.

"What's a Prophet eh?" The man asked, and Sorran shook his head.

"What do you mean?" Sorran replied uncertainly, and was rewarded by a punch to the jaw. It hurt, and Sorran tasted blood.

"What's a Prophet?"

"I don't know." Sorran repeated, and was hit again, this time on the temple. Before he could collect his thoughts, he was asked the question again.

"What's a Prophet?"

"I don't --"

Smack! Sorran was hit once again, and felt himself get pushed out of his chair. He hit his head on the hard ground, and all turned blurry. A voice called again, asking the same question. Sorran gave the same answer, albeit slurred, and was this time kicked in the side. He doubled over in pain.

Maybe he should just tell them. What could it hurt? It would give respite from the pain. No! He could not betray the Covenant; not again! He would remain silent, take the information to the grave if he had to.

Fear was replaced by anger. He was a Sangheili, not some common Unggoy! Why was he allowing himself to be abused like this? The anger surged through his body, filling him with adrenalin.

"What is, a Prophet?" The human named Harper emphasised once again, leering down at him, but this time, he received a kick to the stomach as an answer. Sorran heard the man gasp with shock and pain, and double over. The Sangheili stood tall, and faced the rest of the humans angrily. They were staring at him with newly found fear. They raised their weapons nervously.

"Freeze!" one shouted, and Sorran's anger faded as quickly as it came. He grew afraid again, afraid of the weapons aimed at him and the bullets they would fire out, ending his life. He froze.

"Stand in the corner, and put your hands on your head!"

Sorran complied with the order, and one of the other marines went to go check if the Sergeant was alive.

"He's got a pulse, he'll live, but he's gonna have one bad ass headache when he wakes up."

"Poor Sarge."

Gun barrels remained trained upon Sorran. Ambassador Errand stood.

"Ah, violence, how I hate it. I think we have enough information for now men, let us depart. Elite, I will question you once again in the morning. This time, I think I shall bring the Spartan in with me."

"Yes sir Colonel Errand." one of the marines spoke, and Sorran stared. The man had lied; he wasn't an Ambassador at all. Sorran had been duped, and worse, he had fallen for it.

The humans scooped up Sergeant Harper and left, slamming the door and leaving Sorran alone in the room. He gently caressed the side of his jaw. Pain shot through him; it was probably broken. His side hurt too, where the human had kicked him. Sorran felt his eyes go moist.

What had he done to deserve this cruellest of punishments?

This story is win