#shipmaster

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.

Wolver, Shipmaster of the Vesalius (or part of the Vesalius now)

I gave Wolver a feminine form, because I can. They are a nervous system in a glass skull, after all.

More info below:

Oh yes, we’re still jumping those sharks. This time Rtas ‘Vadum is serving Shinji Ikari at Burger King.

——————————————————————————————————————————–

The Half-Jaw Rtas ‘Vadum settled at his desk, a mass of paperwork looming over him. He would be lying if he claimed that the Arbiter’s entry of the Swords of Sanghelios into the fast food industry had been any less than a tremendous success. The icy relations between the sangheili and their human counterparts had slowly but surely begun to thaw, and the restaurant had even begun to attract customers from outside of the local area. It truly was incredible what devious marketing could do to make even the simplest of human meals seem like ‘exotic sangheili cuisine’, the Half-Jaw thought. Today alone they had served a group of tourists, a local politician attempting some kind of disingenuous public relations stunt to boost his chances at re-election, and a briefcase carrying older gentleman who managed the impressive feat of simultaneously appearing both frighteningly unseemly and superbly proper. So successful had the venture been that the Arbiter had even seen fit to provide ‘Vadum with additional staff, at least after weeks of pestering from the Shipmaster. ‘Vadum picked a pen from the pot on his desk. An Earth-made pen of course. At first he couldn’t entirely wrap his head around the diminutive instruments, but he was getting used to them. He actually had time to get used to them now that he had other workers to deal wit-

“Shipmaster!”

Other workers like the veteran sangheili blademaster who seemed to have selected ‘Vadum’s office door as his latest victim. The Half-Jaw sighed as the Blademaster’s pounds continued.

“You may enter, Blademaster.”

The door slammed into the wall, chipping the paint slightly. In its place stood an aged sangheili blademaster, his golden armour dulled from years of usage. However the weariness of his armour and body did little to conceal a ferocity in his eyes that would strike fear into even the most hardened of men. This was Vul ‘Soran. The former second in command of 'Vadum’s assault carrier Shadow of Intent, in his prime 'Soran had been a warrior without equal. Even entering his elder years, he had dispatched many of those foolish enough to try and cultivate a reputation through his defeat. Following the end of the Human-Covenant war, the Arbiter had made sure to appoint the legendary warrior to a position fitting of his stature. Assistant manager at a Burger King run by his old shipmaster. The belligerent commander let out a huff, clearly trying to attract said shipmaster’s attention.

“Yes… Blademaster?” the Half-Jaw questioned, his head resting against his hand as though to indicate that he had resigned himself to his fate. 'Vadum held 'Soran in the highest regard imaginable, he genuinely did. This did not mean however that he had to be pleased with his performance as assistant manner. In his short period of employment the veteran had already evicted two customers for what he deemed to be overuse of the condiment dispensers, attempted to fine another for spilling some water, and threatened at least three with his sword for some other vaguely defined offences. Were it not for the humans present one might have mistaken the situation for an evening on the bridge of Shadow of Intent. At the very least this was certainly how 'Soran seemed to interpret his job.

“A young human has been loitering at the window seat. I was prepared to deal with him myself, but Scion 'Juran reminded me that after the last loitering incident you wanted to be consulted on such issues before disciplinary action was taken.”

'Disciplinary action’. That settled the argument about what job the Blademaster thought he was doing then. 'Vadum tapped his helmet in a manner that seemed to suggest he had experienced such an inordinate degree of frustration lately that his mind was simply no longer capable of processing the feeling. At any rate, he would have to remember to thank 'Juran later. She may well have saved that human’s life. At the very least she had saved his limbs.

“Take me to this human, Blademaster. I will make a judgement from there.”

“As you command Shipmaster. Follow me.”

The golden armoured commander turned around and left the office. 'Vadum thought about leaving him to it, but he really couldn’t afford to let 'Soran cause another incident. God only knows what consequences his establishment would already have faced for the Blademaster’s behaviour if its proprietor didn’t have access to a glassing beam. He clenched his hand for a moment before following his assistant manager.

The pair made their way into the public section of the restaurant, and 'Soran gestured to indicate a small human male with a white shirt and black trousers sat at one of the window tables. He seemed uncomfortable, disturbed even, alternating between gazing out the window longingly and staring down at his feet as though attempting to hide his own existence from the outside world.

“How long has passed since his arrival?”

“An hour at the very least.”

“And during that time he has done what? Has he made any purchase at all?”

“Not even a thing. The human arrived, sat down, and hasn’t made a move since. Shall I remove him from the premises now?” the Blademaster growled, reaching for his energy sword. Vul 'Soran was never known for his patience with those who would go against protocol, and the end of the Great War had done little to dull this trait of his. The Half-Jaw knew that there would be no hope of defusing the situation peacefully so long as 'Soran was around.

“Stay your hand Blademaster, I will deal with the human. In the meantime I need you to make a call to some of our suppliers regarding shipments. You’ll find everything you need to know on my desk.”

'Soran grunted bitterly as he began his return journey to the manager’s office.

“I trust that you’ll inflict a punishment on the human befitting of his infraction?”

“I shall do whatever it is that I need to, Blademaster. Now go. I anticipate that the supply dispute will be solved by tomorrow.”

Now that 'Soran had gone, and taken the threat of a bloodbath with him, the Half-Jaw finally saw fit to approach the loiterer. It was a simple procedure really. The physical threat of an almost eight foot sangheili warrior combined with a commanding tone of voice was usually enough to get most disruptive customers to either cease their violations or leave. Despite what his assistant manager seemed to believe, the ignition of an energy sword was not something that needed to be done often. 'Vadum approached the human, who on closer inspection looked to be almost half his height. He didn’t expect a drawn out confrontation here.

“Human. You may make a purchase, or you may leave, but do not continue to abuse our hospitality.”

The human made no clear acknowledgement of the sangheili commander’s words, instead continuing to take in the beautiful view of some cars and a bush that could be seen through the window.

“Human!”

“Huh?!”

This second, firmer address was evidently finally enough to snap the human out of whatever train of thought he was on, and he turned to face the towering sangheili.

“As I have made clear. You may make a purchase, or you may leave, but your continued loitering will not be condoned.”

The panic-stricken male seemed paralysed in fear for a moment, but it was not long before he stumbled around his chair for a bit before lowering his head back towards the ground.

“S-sorry…”

The Shipmaster stood in thought for a moment, crossing his arms. Perhaps he had been too harsh on the human. He had meant to appear firm, not threatening. Besides that, the restaurant’s manager threatening what appeared to be a teenager would be a worse public relations disaster than anything Vul 'Soran could manage. He sighed in frustration before crouching down to the human’s level.

“I am truly sorry if you feel threatened human, that was not my intention. However these tables are reserved for paying customers. Do you or do you not intend to make a purchase?”

“I- No… sorry.” The human said, continuing to shamefully look between at the floor tiles.

'Vadum couldn’t help but feel curious about the young human’s motivations. Most loiterers came in groups, with the goal of disrupting actual customers or simply abusing the staff in some misguided search for retribution regarding the Great War. This one simply sat alone, away from the other patrons and making no attempt to draw attention to himself.

“I see… Well in that case, I am afraid it is company policy that I ask you to leave the premises.”

It was this comment that finally emboldened the human to some degree. He looked directly at the Shipmaster, and it was this that allowed 'Vadum to finally see just how miserable this child was. His blue eyes looked tired, not in the physical sense but rather an emotional one. As though they had been drained of all desire to carry on existing, and were simply continuing to do so out of obligation. The Half-Jaw couldn’t help but feel a swell of pity for the human in this moment. He still didn’t know why he had chosen his establishment of all places to go, but it was now clear that he was trying to escape something, be it an obligation, a person, or something else entirely. And then the human spoke. His voice was still hesitant, but there was a new addition to his tone. Not one of confidence, but of desperation.

“P-please let me stay for a bit longer… I don’t-”

“One moment human,” the Half-Jaw interrupted, standing up and walking towards his office. He felt justified in his interruption. There was no use in letting the human publicly shame himself. He didn’t need to know what he was trying to avoid, it was already clear enough that he wanted to avoid it. 'Vadum wasn’t usually one for charity, especially not for humans. That didn’t make him void of pity however. Sending the human back out would only distress him further, and ultimately be of no use to anyone. Besides that it was late in the day anyway, so it wasn’t as though anyone was in desperate need of the extra table. He grabbed some earth currency that he kept for his own use from his desk, and headed back out. In his haste he completely ignored 'Soran, who simply glared at him in confusion while listening to the supplier waffle on over the phone. The Shipmaster didn’t intend to break company policy by allowing somebody to loiter without purchasing food, but he didn’t see much point in removing the human. He placed the currency on the counter, and looked directly at the sangheili manning the till.

“Prepare a hamburger and fries for the human.”

The other elite gave him a bemused look for a second before punching in the order.

“By your word Shipmaster. Can we have a name for that order?”

The Half-Jaw turned towards the human who had returned his gaze to the window.

“Human! Your name?”

The human turned back around, startled for a moment with an almost confused look on his face.

“Huh?! Oh uh… Shinji Ikari.”

Several hours later the Shipmaster was in the process of putting away the paperwork he had finally finished. After finally getting 'Soran to leave his office he had actually had a fairly productive few hours, and had managed to finish the whole lot half an hour before the restaurant was scheduled to close for the day. The whole operation was going unusually smoothly. At least it was until a furious Vul 'Soran appeared once more in his office doorway.

“Shipmaster! The human is still there.”

“He is a customer now is he not?”

“That was hours ago!”

'Vadum shook his head in a subtle manner. He really did wish 'Soran would stop treating the most minor of infractions as though they were capital offences.

“Do not worry Blademaster. I will have him leave the premises by closing time.”

“You made the same claim previously Shipmaster. With all due respect, should you fail to do so again I shall be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

“Yes, yes. I am sure that you would.”

The Half-Jaw passed 'Soran and left the office, partly to get away from his incessant complaining, and partly to ensure that the human went on his way before the Blademaster became violent. He walked back into the public area to see the human still sitting in the window seat. He didn’t seem quite as despaired as before, and had evidently stood up at least once to dispose of the packaging from his lunch. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“Ikari was it? The establishment is closing for the day in half an hour; I would suggest that you leave soon.”

Shinji turned to look at him, nervousness once more overtaking his face as he realised the time.

“Y-yes sir. I’ll be sure to leave by then. Can I please just stay for a little bit longer?”

'Vadum considered bringing up the loitering policy, but figured it wasn’t worth it. There was only half an hour left anyway. He would solve the issue as he had done before.

“'Rodam! Prepare a basic ice cream for the human. We need to get some use out of the machine anyway.”

“Thanks… for the lunch too.” Shinji said, quietly and nervously.

“Do not concern yourself with it. I must ask though; why are you so eager to remain here?”

“It’s uh… it’s nice here. There’s nobody around an-”

“Does the human mean to insinuate that we are a failing establishment?” cried out Vul 'Soran, who was currently busy cleaning unoccupied tables, though seemingly more so with listening in to Shinji and 'Vadum’s conversation. The human male’s face turned red with embarrassment and a hint of fear.

“N-no sorry that’s not what I was saying…”

“Ignore him,” said the Half-Jaw. “You may continue.”

“I meant that there’s nobody here I know. I don’t have any responsibilities here, and nobody feels responsible for me.”

“And how did you find yourself here to begin with?”

“I uh, I ran off… Everyone there hates me anyway, so I figured they’d be better off if I left.”

“I see… and what drove you to this conclusion?”

“I uh- I mean I never did anything for anyone else. Whenever they had problems I just hid away until they figured it out themselves. I guess that’s my solution to most problems. Avoid everything until it goes away.”

“So Ikari… I believe the point you are trying to convey is that you hate yourself?”

“I… I guess so. But it’s justified hate right? I’m a terrible person. All I do is use other people to make me happy. I try to force them to love me because I can’t love myself, but then as soon as something happens to them I just run away. I don’t deserve to exist…”

“Perhaps that is so, human. But have you made any effort to solve that problem?”

“I- no, I just told you that. All I do is hide…”

Shinji buried his head between his arms and his legs. Sobbing noises came from within. The Half-Jaw decided to soften his approach, to an extent at least. He didn’t endorse Ikari’s attempts to avoid any meaningful interaction with others, but he wasn’t cruel enough to attack him for it.

“You know Ikari, for thousands of years the title of 'Arbiter’ has been bestowed upon certain Sangheili of great significance. The first Arbiters were the most wise and skilled warriors of all Sanghelios. Part king, part judge, they led the species through even the most turbulent of times. The title in this state lasted even after the formation of the Covenant. It was the very highest badge of honour imaginable to our people. That is until Arbiter Fal 'Chavamee rejected the lies of the prophets. 'Chavamee was branded a heretic, and upon his death the prophets saw fit to remould the role of Arbiter. From then on it would granted only to those deemed heretics. These 'heretics’ would be expected to redeem themselves by giving their life in battle for the Covenant.”

Shinji’s sobbing grew even more frequent. 'Vadum assumed that he had misinterpreted the story to be his way of saying that he could only find redemption in death. Perhaps it was a poor decision to tell this story at all, especially with the wounds of the Great War still fresh in humanity’s mind. But the point of no return was long past.

“That was not the point I was making Ikari. If you would allow me to finish the story, I was going to tell of Thel 'Vadam, the present Arbiter and leader of the Sangheili. I served in 'Vadam’s fleet for some time before his appointment as Arbiter. His faith in the prophets was unwavering, and his campaigns on their behalf were ruthless. I can only imagine how he felt when he was branded a heretic and stripped of his positions. As you may have guessed, 'Vadam was appointed Arbiter. He was expected to die in service of the prophets, as his predecessors did before him. But with time 'Vadam saw through their lies. When the prophets betrayed the Sangheili it was him who led us to join with humanity. Since the war he has made every effort to push for unity. Not only between the divided Sangheili factions, but with humanity and the former species of the Covenant. The Arbiter overcame the worthlessness that had been put upon him by the Covenant, and in doing so he restored the honour to his title. Do not assume that sacrifice is the only path to redemption Ikari. Find your own purpose; do not rely on those around you to give you one. Then you can open yourself to the viewpoints of others. Assist them with their struggles, do not push yourself away. There is pain to be found in forming relationships with others. Even the Arbiter could not unify all the people of the galaxy. But there is no joy to be found in wallowing in your failures, and you will never achieve true satisfaction until you grant those around you a glimpse into your true feelings, and allow yourself to take a glimpse of theirs. Fulfil your responsibilities, both to yourself and to them, and perhaps then you will find that yes, you do deserve to exist.”

Shinji raised his head and looked at the Half-Jaw.

“You- you really think so? But I can’t do that.”

“You will have to. Open yourself to others. Allow yourself to engage in meaningful interaction. Then, and only then, you will find worth in your existence. And besides that, I do not believe that you cannot. After all, you did here did you not?”

“I- I guess so…” Shinji said. He wiped his eyes on his arm, and stood up. “Thank you.”

The Half-Jaw nodded at the boy, slightly proud that his tangential story had made any positive impact at all.

“Think nothing of it. Now return to wherever it is you came from. Take your responsibilities head on, and open yourself to your fellow humans. Farewell Ikari.”

“I- yeah… Thank you.”

And with that the human boy left, placing the wrapper from his ice cream cone in the bin as he did so. The Shipmaster on the other hand turned and headed back to his office to finish the filing. Perhaps this fast food business wasn’t as pointless as he had thought.

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