Shipmaster, Swordsman

[bamf-b312-musem]

@burn-their-mongrel-hides

White light boiled around a random point in interstellar space, and then, a hole in Slipspace opened and a Halcyon-class light cruiser streamed steadily out. Her hull was not the usual matte black; rather, a steely grey, and she had a white streak down her starboard flank. Gradually, the entire ship came into view, and the hole behind her closed as she finished exiting Slipspace.

“Ma’am! Covenant assault carrier seven hundred kilometres off our port bow!” the NAV officer, a man by the name of Lieutenant Listern, shouted.

Artemis strode across the room and bent over his console, peering at the display. “You can relax, Listern. She’s one of ours. Well, not necessarily, but she and her crew are on the side of humanity. That’s the Shadow of Intent; I’d recognize that particular profile anywhere.” She shifted her weight away and glanced towards the holotank that resided close to the main viewer. “Seeker, what’s our current location?”

“Mapping now, Commander.” A smooth, lightly British-accented voice replied, and the hologram of a young woman with a bow slung over her back, clad in some kind of adventure gear, popped up over the tank. “Appears to be a moon which has recently been colonized by an ex-Covenant remnant faction. The planet this satellite orbits is uninhabited - atmosphere deemed unsafe.”

“Good.” Artemis moved back to the main viewer, clasping her hands behind her back. “Let’s wait and see what we find. Hail the Shadow; see what she’s up to in the mean time.”

The AI accessed the COM network, opening a frequency most likely to be accessed by the other party. Everyone in the bridge crew could hear her as she addressed the carrier. “This is UNSC Smart AI SEK-1497-3, hailing the Shipmaster of the Shadow of Intent. Commander Pembroke would like to inquire as to what you are doing in this region of space?” She was friendly enough… she just hoped that whomever commanded the carrier was also friendly.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

The arrival of the human vessel had not, of course, gone unnoticed. It was not, however, the Shadow’s Shipmaster who answered the hail.

“Apologies to Commander Pembroke,” a deep and gravelly, but not unpleasant voice replied after a moment’s delay; “but the Shipmaster is currently indisposed. Quartermaster Khel ‘Savon addresses you in his stead.”

“We are currently engaged in the extermination of a Remnant infestation. If you wish to lend assistance, you may, otherwise you are welcome to wait for the Shipmaster to return with his troops.”

((Paging @solitarius-lupus-canticum~ Sorry it’s short, but it should hopefully get the ball rolling))

[bunchofrpmemes]

Send my character a ★ and I’ll bold everything they feel toward your character.

[falconrised-a-blog]

bunchofrpmemes:

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

[bamf-b312-musem]

@burn-their-mongrel-hides

continued from here for tidiness reasons

It felt queer, to be embraced by a Sangheili. And yes, while it wasn’t really a substitute for her kin, Artemis couldn’t help but feel that it was better than nothing. Well-meaning physical contact of any kind was wildly accepted by her, and it wasn’t just because she was touch-starved. She just…liked contact. She leaned against the Shipmaster and closed her eyes, heaving a weary sigh.

“No… it’s…. it’s okay, Shipmaster,” she uttered, quiet, and huffed out a laugh, “You’re actually doing pretty good.”

All things considered.

And besides, her opinion of Rtas had gone up a decent amount in her books, right about then. Maybe soon he would become her friend. At the very least, she called him friendly ally. That was more than saying for some of the humans she had to work with.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

Rtas let out a faint, almost amused-sounding hm, that quickly faded into a rumbling purr deep in his chest.

He couldn’t help but feel at least somewhat relieved as the Lieutenant leaned into him with a sigh, and though he still left her an opening to pull away if - or, rather, when - she wanted, he briefly reached up to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Well, I’m glad to not have offended you, then,” he murmured, almost smiling and keeping his tone light; “this was a calculated risk on my part, after all.”

Then, his voice grew serious, lowering in volume so only she would hear.

“Lieutenant... I have been where you are now - whatever you may be thinking, please, know that you have not failed, and there is no shame in grief...”

[bamf-b312-musem]

“I just want to help” (from burn-their-mongrel-hides~)

Artemis stared blankly at her hands, watching them blur as her eyes filled with tears. She struggled to keep her breathing under control; it was coming in harsh, rapid pants. It hurt so much…. why did it hurt so much? Three Spartan-IVs under her command had been lost, on a mistake that had been made on her behalf. It was her fault that they’d died. She felt so guilty… so worthless… it was horrible.

She jerked in surprise when she heard the partially growling, cultured voice that could only belong to Shipmaster Rtas ’Vadum, and glanced upwards, staring into his orange eyes. “I-I-I’m okay,” she stammered, not wanting to seem weak, especially not in front of a Sangheili. “I… I can cope.” She swiped at her eyes, wishing she hadn’t left her helmet behind.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

bamf-b312

Artemis worried her lower lip between her teeth, head lowering in shame and eyes closing. She could not bring herself to look into his eyes. Not when she was feeling so weak. It was horrible, and she hated it, but she had never been whole. Not since Jorge had sacrificed himself for her, all those years ago. In fact, it went beyond that, although the Chief Warrant Officer dying in her place had certainly fucked her up, some.

“I…. I…”

I want my family back. I want Reach, whole. I want to stop hurting. I want to find Tom and Lucy. I want Blue Team by my side.

I want…

“I don’t know,” she whispered, “When….” She paused, swallowing hard, “When I break down, normally… normally I have my kin nearby, and they know what to do. But….they’re not here…”

The ache in his chest sharpened until it was almost unbearable, and he drew his mandibles in tight as he lowered his head. He could only imagine what things must have been running through her mind as she tearfully fumbled her words, and he wished to comfort her, but how? Humans comforted their kin with physical contact, too, didn’t they...? Would it be acceptable for him to do so?

The worst that could happen would only be a minor diplomatic incident that might put her off from working with Sangheili again in the future...

With a soft sigh, he leaned in a bit closer, watching her carefully - before gently nudging his blunt muzzle against her forehead and carefully curling one arm around her back. She could pull away if she chose, but he hoped...

“I may be a poor substitute for your kin, Spartan, but for what it’s worth... I am here, and I understand...”

[bamf-b312-musem]

“I just want to help” (from burn-their-mongrel-hides~)

Artemis stared blankly at her hands, watching them blur as her eyes filled with tears. She struggled to keep her breathing under control; it was coming in harsh, rapid pants. It hurt so much…. why did it hurt so much? Three Spartan-IVs under her command had been lost, on a mistake that had been made on her behalf. It was her fault that they’d died. She felt so guilty… so worthless… it was horrible.

She jerked in surprise when she heard the partially growling, cultured voice that could only belong to Shipmaster Rtas ’Vadum, and glanced upwards, staring into his orange eyes. “I-I-I’m okay,” she stammered, not wanting to seem weak, especially not in front of a Sangheili. “I… I can cope.” She swiped at her eyes, wishing she hadn’t left her helmet behind.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

“No, you are not,” Rtas replied softly as he lowered himself down to one knee before her; he was all too conscious of the effect his height could have and took great care to avoid this. “And I mean no offense, but it does not seem as though you can.”

Tilting his head, he seemed to take a moment to evaluate her condition; her situation was one he was entirely too familiar with, and he could not stop his hearts from aching.

“What do you need to help you through this, Artemis?”

[theyshallbedisappointed]

“Do I ever let my guard down? Truly?” He offered a wry but hopefully reassuring smile as he stepped aside again. One did not attain the rank and standing he had by being careless, after all.

He would extend his trust, of course, but never so far as to put himself - or, more importantly, his crew - at risk. 

“Besides, if she is who - and what - she claims to be…” Rtas turned to face the Architect once more, “then her title far predates the Covenant, and their dangerous misinterpretations…”

Thel was certainly fascinated by that prospect, as unlikely as it was. The one’s who’d come before them in Ages past, the ones upon whom the San’Shyuum’s insidious lies were killed by their creations, by the Parasite they’d unleashed. In a way, Thel held greater reverence for these Forerunners knowing of their mortality than he did when he thought them Gods. In their final days, they’d given their bodies, burned their civilization  to the ground so that the Parasite could be kept at bay.

But they were gone. They’d turned to stardust in a fire of their own creation. 

“It is unlikely.” He whispered.

“But a fascinating prospect…..”

He nods, turning away from Rtas to face their ‘guest’. Whatever she was, it’d be revealed in due time.

[revocate--animos]

The Forerunner lingers for a moment, studying the eyes that now cast their gaze upon her in judgement.

She knew full well that her kind had seemed to become some sort of myth to this generation. She had seen communications from Sangheili and Hamanune alike.

A small shift in her stance, but otherwise she remained silent.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

Now that the worst of the tension, at least, seemed to have been defused, Rtas sighed inwardly in relief and stepped away from Thel and towards the Architect - but only a single step. Clasping his hands behind his back, he looked between the two of them, and softly cleared his throat.

It seemed he was going to have to be the one to broach the silence that had settled between them.

“Now that we’ve all been properly introduced, I think it is safe to say that there are questions to be answered on all sides here, so... where shall we begin?”

[bamf-b312-musem]

burn-their-mongrel-hides:

Rtas paused as well, following her gaze to the group across the way, and felt his expression soften again. Felt the sobering weight of what was unfolding here settle over him again.

The wounds his people had inflicted upon humanity were still raw, and they had so much work ahead of them if they were to even begin to right those wrongs.

But he could see the thin slivers of hope now. In that unheard, but clearly amicable conversation. In the other scattered, smaller interactions he’d noted. And, of course, in his own conversation with the Lieutenant. Artemis. Who probably had more reason than most here to hate him, and who still walked alongside him as a companion.

Perhaps someday she would forgive him (but he didn’t dare hope for it.) Perhaps, someday, he would be able to call her “sister” (this, though, he could hope for.)

It was a pleasant thought.

“I should leave you to see to your work,” he said softly after a long moment, bowing his head to her; “the Arbiter is awaiting my final reports, as I imagine your commanding officers are awaiting yours. Thank you, again, for taking the time to speak with me.”

Rtas started to step away - then seemed to think better of it, looking back to her.

“If… you or your people need anything, and it is in my power to give it… please, do not hesitate to ask. It is the least I can do.”

“Oh, by all means, Shipmaster, I found the conversation to be as pleasant and enlightening as you did.” Artemis admitted with a bob of her head. “So you’re quite welcome.” She was rather glad that he had pulled her aside to talk to her. It had assuaged her fears somewhat … and taught her that there was more to the Sangheili than met the eye. They were more alike to the Spartans than she originally thought, and that was intriguing.

She couldn’t help the flush that formed over her cheeks, and she bowed her head, chuffed at the offer. “I’ll… be sure to do so, Rtas. I’ll see you around then.” She raised her head and the colouration was gone, though her lips were twitched in a faint smile.

She hoped that someday, perhaps soon, she could come to befriend this particular Sangheili. The Arbiter, she was a little more uncertain about, but Rtas, this Shipmaster… he was a good one.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

There. There was that welling feeling of pride again, along with a sense of relief that he hadn’t previously felt before. 

He’d been uncertain before, worried over how his apology and concern might be received... but it seemed as if he could put those worries to rest now. And while it had initially been tempting to send someone less... imposing to deliver his message in his stead - something most other Shipmasters might have done - he was glad to have chosen to take the risk himself.

“I certainly hope so,” he smiled back, lowering his head in a respectful bow. “Take care, Spartan Artemis, and know that you are always welcome on my bridge, should you ever have need of me.”

Rtas resisted the urge to add “my friend” to the end of his farewell; it still felt too presumptuous, but he could now hope that it wouldn’t always.

It was on that note that he departed, leaving the cavernous bay for the relatively quieter confines of the bridge, where he could file his after-action reports... and perhaps spend a few moments collapsed into his command chair...

[theyshallbedisappointed]

Almost immediately, Rtas found himself moving to stand between them, holding both hands up and lowering his head in a deferential, placating gesture towards Thel. Then he stepped closer, until they were shoulder-to-shoulder and he could lower his voice.

“Thel, please,” he intoned quietly, looking his friend squarely in the eye; “I realize that this is… distressing, at best. I am still processing it. But she seems - lost, I suppose, and as confused as we are… I do not believe that she is a threat.”

He briefly glanced away and sighed, before looking back to Thel.

“I am not asking you to trust her. I am asking you to trust me. Please.”

“Mmm..” Grumbled Thel.

He strained to keep his voice to a near whisper when adressing his friend.

“She claims divinity.” 

He motioned with his head toward alien in their presence. He would die for Rtas, and was certain that Rtas would do the same for him, but something about this guest of his raised his hackles. 

He certainly wasn’t naive enough to value the word of one who’d named herself an Old God.

“Keep your guard, Brother.”

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

“Do I ever let my guard down? Truly?” He offered a wry but hopefully reassuring smile as he stepped aside again. One did not attain the rank and standing he had by being careless, after all.

He would extend his trust, of course, but never so far as to put himself - or, more importantly, his crew - at risk. 

“Besides, if she is who - and what - she claims to be...” Rtas turned to face the Architect once more, “then her title far predates the Covenant, and their dangerous misinterpretations...”

[bamf-b312-musem]

burn-their-mongrel-hides:

A soft, baritone chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, and Rtas felt any remaining traces of tension finally fade away. 

It was a relief to know that not only were there no hard feelings, but she was willing to extend - and accept - the hand of friendship, in spite of everything that had happened. It gave him hope - something that was in far too short a supply these days.

It didn’t erase his crimes, nothing ever could, but… it did lighten their burden somewhat.

“Thank you, Artemis.” He sounded out the name again, noting the way it felt so similar to his own in his mouth. If he’d been a believer in signs and omens, he would have taken that to be a good one.

“I am glad that we’ve been able to have this talk,” the outer corners of his eyes creased in another soft smile, “and gladder still to see that the feeling seems to be mutual.”

“It is indeed mutual, Rtas.” Artemis gave a curt, firm nod. She wasn’t quite sure she’d ever thought she would have mutual feelings with a Sangheili, let alone have a polite conversation, and yet… here she was. It was so strange. Most of her family had been taken from her by the Covenant, or had given the lives fighting the aliens. And yet…

She could not help but feel, in a way, like she wanted to befriend the Shipmaster. It was conflicting, she knew that much for sure, but he was a good man …. er, Sangheili. He wanted to right the wrongs he had done… as best he could. He was trying to help the galaxy, rather than put a stop to humanity. She could agree with that.

Hell, she could probably even forgive him.

Maybe, someday.

She glanced out to where a group of UNSC troopers was talking with a couple of Unggoy, as well as a trio of Sangheili, and couldn’t help the smile that crossed her lips. Good to know they were trying their best to get along.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

Rtas paused as well, following her gaze to the group across the way, and felt his expression soften again. Felt the sobering weight of what was unfolding here settle over him again.

The wounds his people had inflicted upon humanity were still raw, and they had so much work ahead of them if they were to even begin to right those wrongs.

But he could see the thin slivers of hope now. In that unheard, but clearly amicable conversation. In the other scattered, smaller interactions he’d noted. And, of course, in his own conversation with the Lieutenant. Artemis. Who probably had more reason than most here to hate him, and who still walked alongside him as a companion.

Perhaps someday she would forgive him (but he didn’t dare hope for it.) Perhaps, someday, he would be able to call her “sister” (this, though, he could hope for.)

It was a pleasant thought.

“I should leave you to see to your work,” he said softly after a long moment, bowing his head to her; “the Arbiter is awaiting my final reports, as I imagine your commanding officers are awaiting yours. Thank you, again, for taking the time to speak with me.”

Rtas started to step away - then seemed to think better of it, looking back to her.

“If... you or your people need anything, and it is in my power to give it... please, do not hesitate to ask. It is the least I can do.”

[bamf-b312-musem]

burn-their-mongrel-hides:

That…

…that was not quite the reaction he’d anticipated.

If he were to be perfectly honest, if the situation had been any less solemn, he might have chuckled. To have rendered a Spartan speechless, even for a moment… how many could say they had done such a thing?

He smiled, though, when she told him he name, letting out a pleased hmm as he did so.

“Artemis…” Rtas nodded slowly, almost as if he were sounding out the name. “Very well. And since we are on a ‘first-name’ basis,” a note of amusement crept back into his voice, “please, call me Rtas.”

A mutual trading of first names, now? That was unusual. And yet Artemis couldn’t help but feel gladdened at the thought. She didn’t want to make an enemy out of this Shipmaster - she would much rather befriend him. This was how she made friends with people. She was already beginning to trust him… and the fact that he had given her his name in response to her giving hers… that was a sign that he was starting to trust her, too.

“Rtas. R-…tas.” She tested the word out a couple of times, getting a feel for it. “Rtas. A nice name.” She bobbed her head when she thought she had grasped it. Short and simple; something she was less likely to slip up on, or forget. She was awkward with words, sometimes.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

A soft, baritone chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, and Rtas felt any remaining traces of tension finally fade away. 

It was a relief to know that not only were there no hard feelings, but she was willing to extend - and accept - the hand of friendship, in spite of everything that had happened. It gave him hope - something that was in far too short a supply these days.

It didn’t erase his crimes, nothing ever could, but... it did lighten their burden somewhat.

“Thank you, Artemis.” He sounded out the name again, noting the way it felt so similar to his own in his mouth. If he’d been a believer in signs and omens, he would have taken that to be a good one.

“I am glad that we’ve been able to have this talk,” the outer corners of his eyes creased in another soft smile, “and gladder still to see that the feeling seems to be mutual.”

[theyshallbedisappointed]

Theres a second preceding the opening of the doors where armor detected movement through the walls, prompting the Forerunner to begin to turn right as another presence emerged from the other side. The turn seemed to be a flourish, as helm retracts to allow unencumbered sight and senses. Even at times her kind could get overwhelmed with information all about them. Locks of a soft lavender hue spilled forth from within where her helm was just a moment ago, like a stream of water tumbling off a cliffside. It fell a long ways down her figure, and ended in a soft point.  It seemed the [ Ship Commander ] had sent out a message to this one. And they came in such a rush, they were without combat skin. Whisper seemed a little surprised by this, but kept it within as she tried to process the situation. “A-Aya, I apologize for the–inconvenience, [ Kaidon ].” Her armor continued to translate for her, even without her helmet on. “It appears my being here is…unexpected?”

“Yes.” Trills Thel. 

He was trying to process it himself. This creature was like nothing he’d ever seen. It, she, was elegant, ethereal, yet also somewhat unnerving. Something about her didn’t seem, right. Something about her made him seem…

Wait, did Rtas say ‘Master Builder”?

Not too long ago, Thel knew that as the title of a choir of Gods. They were the ones who’d made the Sacred Relics, who’d constructed the Rings, the gates through which one could cross to the Divine Beyond. 

Those were venomous falsehoods built to keep his people, to keep himself, in chains. Those falsehoods nearly burned everything away.

Was this creature another slaver, another bent on dominating the Clans.

That remained to be ascertained.

“What are you?” Asked Thel. His eyes narrowed and he drew his mandibles inward.

He left out the ‘really’ he’d thought of. He was defensive, but not without tact. 

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

Almost immediately, Rtas found himself moving to stand between them, holding both hands up and lowering his head in a deferential, placating gesture towards Thel. Then he stepped closer, until they were shoulder-to-shoulder and he could lower his voice.

“Thel, please,” he intoned quietly, looking his friend squarely in the eye; “I realize that this is... distressing, at best. I am still processing it. But she seems - lost, I suppose, and as confused as we are... I do not believe that she is a threat.”

He briefly glanced away and sighed, before looking back to Thel.

“I am not asking you to trust her. I am asking you to trust me. Please.”

[bamf-b312-musem]

burn-their-mongrel-hides:

Rtas felt a sharp, piercing sensation in his breast at the mention of Reach.

Guilt. He couldn’t deny this. It was guilt.

It swept away his pride, and brought him to his proverbial knees. His people had committed many atrocities at the behest of the Prophets, and while the glassing of Reach was far from the largest in scale… somehow, it still managed to feel like the cruelest.

He hadn’t even been present for the glassing of that world. But many former comrades had been. His own closest friend had ordered its destruction. No, he had not been there, but neither was he far enough removed from it to escape the guilt.

He did his best to mask it with sympathy, though - real, unfeigned sympathy - as he lightly, briefly touched the back of her shoulder, mirroring her own earlier gesture.

“He… must have meant a great deal to you, for you to honor him in this way,” he said softly. “He would be proud, I am certain.”

(Not for the first time, he thought of Bero ‘Kusovai. His dear friend. His favored sparring partner. Who had mutilated his face and awakened him to the dire threat posed by the Flood and whose death had, in some way… led to him standing here, with the humans, as an ally. Would ‘Kusovai have been proud of him? Of the choices he’d made and the paths he’d taken to stand where he was now? That… he was not sure of at all.)

Genuine sympathy from a Sangheili? Well, that was… entirely unexpected. For a moment, the Lieutenant floundered in what to say in response, taken aback. She pressed her lips together, uttered a thoughtful noise, and opened and closed her eyes in a few slow, deliberate blinks.

“I…” she began, then stopped, shaking her head in disbelief. “Thankyou, Shipmaster. He… was close to me, yes. And I sure as hell hope he is proud of me.” 

Warmth burned in her chest, and not for the first time since she’d changed to be someone better than when she was first unleashed against the Covenant, so many years ago now. To be told that her dead kin were proud of her, and by a member of the race that had killed them, no less… well, it was unexpected, and she thought perhaps in a way it was a silent apology. One which she accepted, and tucked away in the recesses of her mind, to bring up whenever she felt a burning hatred of the Sangheili in particular.

“…Feel free to call me Artemis, Shipmaster. That’s my real name.”

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

That...

...that was not quite the reaction he’d anticipated.

If he were to be perfectly honest, if the situation had been any less solemn, he might have chuckled. To have rendered a Spartan speechless, even for a moment... how many could say they had done such a thing?

He smiled, though, when she told him he name, letting out a pleased hmm as he did so.

“Artemis...” Rtas nodded slowly, almost as if he were sounding out the name. “Very well. And since we are on a ‘first-name’ basis,” a note of amusement crept back into his voice, “please, call me Rtas.”

[bamf-b312-musem]

burn-their-mongrel-hides:

Now it was his turn to think over the answer he wished to give.

As he thought, he paused mid-step, raising his head and turning to look at the assemblage of troops - most of his men gave the humans a respectful berth, and vice versa, though there were some few who’d come together to talk, seemingly much as he and the Lieutenant had. It wasn’t quite what he’d hope for, but… it was a start.

“I cannot help but feel as if we failed, in some ways,” he finally said, sounding weary; “We could have - should have done better, for the sake of this new alliance.”

Lowering his head again, he resumed his walk, careful not to outpace his company.

“Still… despite my initial misgivings, I must admit that this was much more successful than I’d hoped. In large part,” he smiled, “because of the highly competent commanding officers we had in the field, who kept their heads in a stressful and potentially dangerous situation and prevented this entire venture from going up in smoke.”

Something tugged at her heart when the Shipmaster lamented the fact that he thought he and his people had failed. No, you did all you could. It wasn’t your fault - it’s not as though you could foresee your own people getting arced up about working with my own.

Despite the height difference between them, the Lieutenant reached up and awkwardly patted the Sangheili’s shoulder pauldron… as much of his shoulder as she could reach. Probably due to the way his armour was designed. Some sets of MJOLNIR were like that, and it made it a pain for nonverbal contact between members.

“You did all you could, Shipmaster,” she answered, and there was a note of honest sympathy in her voice, “Even if you yourself worked so hard to tell your people that it was okay to work with humans, it wasn’t like you could just force them into it. They made their own choice, and their choice was the wrong one. Hopefully they’ll learn from their mistakes. I know that humans do.”

When he mentioned about “highly competent commanding officers on the field”, she ducked her head to hide her smile, hair swinging about her face like a curtain. It was high praise, and coming from a Sangheili, and one so highly ranked? Well, it made her feel pretty special. 

She laughed, a soft, somewhat embarrassed noise, and glanced up again.

“Thankyou, Shipmaster. Hearing that… well, it means a lot to me.” she confessed, “I… I haven’t always been in a commanding role, despite the fact that I’m pretty highly ranked for a Spartan. My last CO… well… he perished on Reach, and I vowed to do my best to be like him. So to learn that I’m actually doing a pretty good job… yeah, it means something, y’know?”

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

Rtas felt a sharp, piercing sensation in his breast at the mention of Reach.

Guilt. He couldn’t deny this. It was guilt.

It swept away his pride, and brought him to his proverbial knees. His people had committed many atrocities at the behest of the Prophets, and while the glassing of Reach was far from the largest in scale... somehow, it still managed to feel like the cruelest.

He hadn’t even been present for the glassing of that world. But many former comrades had been. His own closest friend had ordered its destruction. No, he had not been there, but neither was he far enough removed from it to escape the guilt.

He did his best to mask it with sympathy, though - real, unfeigned sympathy - as he lightly, briefly touched the back of her shoulder, mirroring her own earlier gesture.

“He... must have meant a great deal to you, for you to honor him in this way,” he said softly. “He would be proud, I am certain.”

(Not for the first time, he thought of Bero ‘Kusovai. His dear friend. His favored sparring partner. Who had mutilated his face and awakened him to the dire threat posed by the Flood and whose death had, in some way... led to him standing here, with the humans, as an ally. Would ‘Kusovai have been proud of him? Of the choices he’d made and the paths he’d taken to stand where he was now? That... he was not sure of at all.)

[bamf-b312-musem]

burn-their-mongrel-hides:

Rtas watched her carefully from the corner of his eye, noting her thoughtful expression as she took the time to consider her answer, and listening intently when she finally gave it.

Then it was his turn to mull over what he’d heard, lowering his head in a slow nod.

He couldn’t help but smile, too, at the strange little sound that escaped her a moment later. What that was about, he couldn’t quite say, but it was… endearing.

There was another thing he’d never thought he would say about a human, or a Spartan in particular. Endearing. But things were changing so quickly, and the word fit, so…

“And would you say that this was a success?” Rtas tilted his head slightly to look down at her. “All things considered, of course.”

He had his own opinion on the matter, naturally, but he wanted to hear hers, first.

A thoughtful hum, followed by another half-shrug. “All things considered, I’d say it was. We completed the objective, there weren’t any causalities or fatalities caused by our own forces - and the casualties that were sustained were easily treatable - and everyone made it back to their respective homes in one piece.”

It was true.

They had done everything right, and despite the animosity felt between some of the members of both forces… it was a success. She hoped then, in the future, that the UNSC and the Swords of Sanghelios would work even better together. She was hopeful about this; optimistic.

“If I may, Shipmaster, what are your own thoughts on this?”

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

Now it was his turn to think over the answer he wished to give.

As he thought, he paused mid-step, raising his head and turning to look at the assemblage of troops - most of his men gave the humans a respectful berth, and vice versa, though there were some few who’d come together to talk, seemingly much as he and the Lieutenant had. It wasn’t quite what he’d hope for, but... it was a start.

“I cannot help but feel as if we failed, in some ways,” he finally said, sounding weary; “We could have - should have done better, for the sake of this new alliance.”

Lowering his head again, he resumed his walk, careful not to outpace his company.

“Still... despite my initial misgivings, I must admit that this was much more successful than I’d hoped. In large part,” he smiled, “because of the highly competent commanding officers we had in the field, who kept their heads in a stressful and potentially dangerous situation and prevented this entire venture from going up in smoke.”

[bamf-b312-musem]

burn-their-mongrel-hides:

His mandibles flexed soundlessly for a moment, as he mulled over the best way of phrasing his question. This partnership between their peoples was still quite new, and Thel would have his hide if he set things back out of simple thoughtlessness.

He was also finding the Lieutenant to be surprisingly pleasant company, and wished to avoid stepping on her toes, so to speak…

“What… were your feelings regarding this exercise, at the start? Your dossier says that you were selected for your combat skills and your competence in command roles, but that tells me only what you can do. It is… impersonal, at best, and I do not care for ‘impersonal’.”

“An interesting question, Shipmaster.” B312 remarked, not without an amused lilt to her voice. She clasped her hands behind her back as she so often did when patrolling after a battle, and the crease between her brows increased as she mulled it over. It was a deep thing; she had to do some searching before she could elaborate a decent response.

Finally, she spoke.

“I was… anxious, yes. And I would be lying if I said I wasn’t fearful of something going wrong. But at the same time, I was hopeful that we would turn out successful. I knew there was already a good example set by the Master Chief working well with the Arbiter, as well as the various forces under their command… I was hopeful that those under my command would follow suit.”

She couldn’t help but make a noise when she reflected on the fact that the Sangheili noted how her dossier stated she was selected for her competence in leadership roles. Competent was right, but that didn’t mean she was good at it. She wasn’t a born leader, not like some. Not like two blinding examples she knew of. At least though the thought cheered her.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

Rtas watched her carefully from the corner of his eye, noting her thoughtful expression as she took the time to consider her answer, and listening intently when she finally gave it.

Then it was his turn to mull over what he’d heard, lowering his head in a slow nod.

He couldn’t help but smile, too, at the strange little sound that escaped her a moment later. What that was about, he couldn’t quite say, but it was... endearing.

There was another thing he’d never thought he would say about a human, or a Spartan in particular. Endearing. But things were changing so quickly, and the word fit, so...

“And would you say that this was a success?” Rtas tilted his head slightly to look down at her. “All things considered, of course.”

He had his own opinion on the matter, naturally, but he wanted to hear hers, first.

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

theyshallbedisappointed

As if on queue, one of the bridge’s doors slid open, revealing the friend in question. He’d come in a deathly haste, not even bothering with his war-garb.

His chest was bare, showcasing that awful heart-brand for all to see. Rtas had once said that NOTHING could hide that mark and nothing could. But They could hide his shame, could transform it into his weapon.

No longer was he the Lance of lecherous worms parading themselves as the will of the Gods, he was a sword, the Sword.

And he would-

Wait.

What is this?

What is THIS?

Some strange creature stood before his friend, one whose shape was familiar yet alien all the same.

What had Rtas dragged home this time??

“Shipmaster, what IS this?”

“Impeccable timing, Arbiter.” He offered his friend a wry, almost apologetic smile. “Apologies if I woke you, but I thought you needed to see this - to meet her-” he quickly corrected himself, “as soon as possible.”

Stepping aside, Rtas gestured respectfully towards their strange guest.

“Arbiter, this is Master Builder Softly-Whispers-Newfound-Stars, though she calls herself The Architect.” Upon giving that introduction, he turned back towards her, and nodded in Thel’s direction. “Architect, this is Kaidon Thel ‘Vadam, the Arbiter and the leader of the Swords of Sanghelios, and... an honored friend of mine.”

[bamf-b312-musem]

burn-their-mongrel-hides:

When the Lieutenant set her helmet aside, Rtas felt… well, perhaps just a bit inordinately pleased with himself as he returned her smile, and motioned for her to follow him.

That she trusted him enough to forego even that little bit of protection was, in his eyes, a sure sign that he’d done something right. The fact that she was also a Spartan and, thus by her very nature less vulnerable was, of course, not lost on him… but still. Perhaps seeing their commanding officer at such ease would help to allay any lingering worries among the humans…

You’re worrying too much, you old hen, he told himself irritably. Just relax.

“I must admit, this isn’t how I feared our conversation would turn out,” he said quietly as they walked along. “It’s not often that I’m pleased to be wrong… but, in this case…”

Rtas let the comment trailed off, smiling slightly and clasping his hands behind his back as his posture relaxed a bit further.

“May I ask a potentially personal question, Lieutenant?”

The Spartan strode almost step-for-step alongside the Sangheili, a patient, mildly pleased expression on her scarred, youthful features. Occasionally, her eyes darted about, tracking their surroundings; mostly, though, she looked straight ahead, or sideways at the Shipmaster. There was a furrow between her eyebrows; she was thinking hard about a number of things.

Not that it distracted her from the conversation at hand, of course. Spartans were nothing if not intelligent, and Artemis could multitask if she put her mind to it.

She gave an amused hum when the Sangheili remarked he didn’t think the conversation would turn out the way it had, but made no vocal comment on the matter. Believe me, buddy, things take me by surprise all the time. Just something in the line of work of my kind. I’m mostly used to it by now. Can’t expect you to be, though, so I feel for you.

She lifted a shoulder, the movement barely there but the armour clinking. “I’m not fussed and since you’re being quite candid…. go ahead.”

[burn-their-mongrel-hides]

His mandibles flexed soundlessly for a moment, as he mulled over the best way of phrasing his question. This partnership between their peoples was still quite new, and Thel would have his hide if he set things back out of simple thoughtlessness.

He was also finding the Lieutenant to be surprisingly pleasant company, and wished to avoid stepping on her toes, so to speak...

“What... were your feelings regarding this exercise, at the start? Your dossier says that you were selected for your combat skills and your competence in command roles, but that tells me only what you can do. It is... impersonal, at best, and I do not care for ‘impersonal’.”