EliteCommander

The Cradle

Vreta sat up on the couch, briefly taking a moment to stretch out the arm 595 had been lying on all night. He watched her scrounge around and put on the clothes she found, though unlike most Human observers, her lack of clothing hardly even registered with Vreta. She could walk through Threria naked and most Rothians would scarcely notice.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Vreta remarked, and honestly, in this case. He did not have any of the anxiety she seemed to be showing, if he was placing that emotion correctly. At the very least, she had been in a hurry to get up for some reason. “That was more of a fun night than I had been expecting, I will admit. I’m looking through the recordings now. You did end up getting in a bit of trouble. I think you might have incurred some fines at the club.” He chuckled. “I think we got through the night without any major trouble, though. I don’t think any of us left after we came to my apartment, so there shouldn't be any more, uh, repercussions.”

The Cradle

When Vreta lost his focus, it also became easier for him to lose his sense of time. He had been dancing at first with the Agent, then…others. He found himself gravitating towards Tindrel especially, and he did not question why. He simply did what he felt he should and let his impulses drive him, at least for a time. When he saw the “fight”, if it could be called that, which Agent 595 ended up in, it was enough to at least partially pull Vreta back into reality. There was a part of him in the back of his mind that, strangely, felt like he understood why she was doing what she was doing, despite the fact that he had not seen the events leading up to it.

In any case, there was enough lucidity in Vreta’s mind that he did not lose focus on what he felt he needed to do. By the time he and some of the others had approached the Agent, she had released her grip on the clubgoer, but Vreta still felt strongly that he needed to prevent it from happening again. “This is…getting to be too much. We shouldn’t stay here like this. My…my apartment. On the upper level of the city; let’s go there. Stay out of trouble…”

---

Vreta was awoken by a beam of light shining in onto his eyes early in the morning from one of the windows. Though, before he even opened his eyes, he was already receiving reports on his body’s current state from his neural implant. It was alerting him to seek water soon, as he was becoming dehydrated, and it was currently releasing a treatment into his brain to suppress a headache. He felt that he was laying on the couch in his living room, though more importantly, he was not laying there alone. In his arms, nestled between him and the cushions was a naked Human woman. His memories of how he came to be in this position were not returning to him immediately, but he did not feel that it would take many guesses to come to the right answer. It was uncommon of him to choose a partner that was non-Rothian, but it was not something that was entirely new to him, either. However, when he finally opened his eyes to see the person he was holding in his claws, he found that it was none other than Agent 595. That was…more unusual.

Vreta did not immediately get up. Instead, he laid his head back and started skipping through parts of his recording of the night’s events to jog his own memory. He started with the last point he remembered, then skipped ahead to start filling in the gaps. The more he remembered, the more…interesting the story became, and he expected he would be telling it soon enough.

The Cradle

Vreta had to admit the strangeness of the situation. Or at least, part of him recognized it. His mind was torn between his normal rationality and…something else entirely. He found himself easily losing focus and simply acting on impulse. Though, he did not feel that he had entirely lost control. He just no longer felt the need to observe certain inhibitions.

Vreta did not react immediately to 595’s hand on his snout. Even had he been completely lucid, he might not have known how to respond right away. Though, in this case, it was laughter that he replied with after a few seconds. “This is your dancing? Well, I guess I should join in instead of just standing around.”

For a while, Vreta made no effort to fight the impulses of his clouded mind and instead simply allowed him to dance with the agent and Freyr in whatever ways came to mind. Vreta was someone who had practiced dance in a more professional setting at one point in his life, during his more artistic phase. Although, that experience was five centuries in the past. He had, of course, had cause to dance recreationally in the intervening years, his instinct still wanted to call back on that practice he had drilled into himself so long ago. There was a certain grace and fluidity to his movements, but they still came at a fast, almost chaotic pace to match the temp of the music filling the air. The crowded dance floor meant that he was starved for much of the space he needed. He was not uncoordinated, but there were a few times that unexpected movements in the crowd caused him to bump his considerable weight into strangers, friends, or both.

Overall, the one Vreta danced the most closely with was Agent 595. At first it had been to pull her attention away from Freyr, but that motivation faded the more he allowed himself to become lost in the moment. He made the most use of the limited space he had by dancing around and between 595 and Freyr, depending on who his partner was at the time. Eventually, his motions brought him back to the Agent, whose hand he took in his own as he pulled her closer to him. He moved himself to her side, whipping his tail around behind her. The “correct” response was to entwine her tail with his own, but for a Human, that was obviously not an option even if she had known. For the most part, he just ended up slapping her with his tail, then wrapping it around her waist.

The Cradle

Vreta tilted his head slightly at Masgard. “Again, that is not the sort of response I would have expected from you. I am beginning to think there is a side to your people that I have not seen before. Or, at least, have not seen much of.” He remarked. However, they did not have much time to talk before the group moved out onto the dance floor.

It did not take long before the effects of the inhalant became apparent. Everything just felt…more. More intense, more visceral. He could feel the rhythmic thumping of the music that seemed to pulse along with his own heartbeat. Some scents in particular, even filtered as they were through his olfactory implants, became more distinct. Most strikingly, once he confirmed that his eyes were not deceiving him, he realized he could see certain scents from Tindrel in the crowd. At least, that was how he interpreted what his eyesight was telling him. The overload of sensory information among the flashing lights, pulsing music, and constant movement of the crowd was overwhelming, to say the least.

Vreta had not expected such a drastic effect so quickly on himself. He could only imagine the influence on the smaller Humans he was accompanying. That thought did have him finally focus his attention back on his companions. By that point, Freyr was bound up close in Agent 595’s arms, receiving a steady stream kisses to her neck. All of it was simply a surprise after surprise for Vreta. Humans did have a reputation for peculiar aversions to some core instincts, but that was not what Vreta was seeing now, as long as he was interpreting the displays of affection correctly.

His first reaction was to be happy that Freyr could still enjoy herself despite all that was happening for her professionally, yet…there was something that was prodding at the back of Vreta’s mind. A memory, something Freyr had said to him that very night, was sticking out to him. He was reminded of their conversation during dinner, talking about their families and partners. Vreta stopped where he was on the dance floor, struggling to focus and remember. Freyr was happily married, as she said. That meant something to Humans. They were culturally monogamous. It was not a practice that Vreta understood very well, but even addled as his mind was, he still remembered that it was something important to them. If she was being affected by this drug even more strongly than he was, then she might not have wanted this in her right mind. Vreta, despite his overwhelmed senses, could still think clearly…enough. He could be of some help.

When Vreta approached, he soon found Freyr’s hand firmly on his chest. He still had his neural implant assisting him with deciphering her facial expressions, but even his implant was not entirely determinant about what it was seeing from Freyr’s expression. It did seem that she might have been more overwhelmed by it all than he was. For a moment, he took a hold of Freyr’s hand in his own, smiled, and squeezed her hand gently. Though, he released her after a few seconds and instead placed one hand on Agent 595’s shoulder to grab her attention. “Do you…still want to dance, Agent?”

The Cradle

Evidently, the friend that Ambassador Verengoning was keen on them meeting was another Human diplomat: a woman who seemed far classier than the entire rest of the club combined. She was just as friendly and welcoming as he was, no doubt as her job required. Vreta did realize that his career made him more paranoid than most, but it was hard for him to trust the authenticity of those who were paid to make friends. Still, it was not as if he was going to be swayed from his duty by a night of drinking, dancing, and sampling strange inhalants. Perhaps the Sthrirad might have been more of a concern than the other aspects of the club, but Vreta always had his toxin filters on standby if he needed them. He felt safe enough to indulge.

Vreta headed down the lift just behind Freyr and 595, leaving the ambassador to speak with his superior. He resisted the tempation to do a search on the effects of the inhalant, as he figured he might enjoy the night more if it was a surprise. He chuckled to himself for a few moments before speaking up loudly enough to be heard by them over the noise of the crowd. “Is this how most Humans like to enjoy their evenings? I will admit, this is not what I expected after my time on Outremer. Though, perhaps that is just because no one wanted to invite me to the fun parties.”

The Cradle

With as unique as the atmosphere of the club was, Vreta did feel less of a pressure on him compared to the restaurant, or official meetings. Certainly, he was professional enough to still keep up his guard with respect to matters the Rahn’Masser would find important, but it was something of a relief to not feel the need to keep up an externally professional attitude. At least from all he understood about Humans, that would not be the expectation here.

Grinning, Vreta took a drink from the server and gave Freyr a light pat on her back. “Don’t worry. Like I’ve said, I’ve lived many lives before, and not all of them were that of a business executive or professional diplomat. I think it will be nice to…let loose for a night, especially with all that’s been happening.”

Tilting back his head, Vreta quickly downed the full volume of the drink he had taken, which, granted, was not as difficult of a task for his biology. He continued to follow Kalax along with the rest of the group to meet this friend of his. Although, he had no notions of who this friend might be. He still could not even be sure if the ambassador was as “informed” on the reality of the situation as the likes of 595 or Masgard. Personally, Vreta leaned towards the ambassador being out-of-the-loop. Rothian surveillance on their homeworld was all-encompassing, and the sophistication of their decrypting tools meant that no message could be guaranteed to be truly safe. At least not forever. In all likelihood, he was operating without all of the information.

Ultimately, Vreta put aside the thoughts of espionage and conspiracy. He did, quite genuinely, want to enjoy himself tonight, even if that meant putting aside rivalries. As they headed down the ramp, Vreta tilted his head towards 595. “I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but the art of motion is one I might be familiar with.”

The Cradle

Vreta did accept the compliment without argument, though he was still not sure he would rate himself as a hero. His actions certainly had helped the Humans around him, but he acted more out of their mutual interest in self-preservation. Of course, he would not say that openly. The perception of heroics was a useful one.

Freyr’s last question made it obvious to she had been talking to in her mind, though Vreta found it particularly curious that she had she had said “we” had been invited to a club. Briefly, he wondered if the ambassador or the agent had some other plan in mind, or if they had simply been drinking even more than himself and Freyr. Either way, the idea was just too intriguing for him to pass up; he simply had to see where this would lead. “Well, there’s an invitation I didn’t expect to receive. A club is certainly a very different establishment to this one, but I’m still interested. Sure, I’ll join you.” He answered.

Regardless of their new plans, they did not rush the remainder of their dinner. They filled the time with more small talk and discussions about their respective homeworlds, and for Vreta, another drink or two. He could tell that Freyr was a bit farther along in her inebriation than he was, even though he was not having his implants filter the alcohol. It was simply a matter of body mass as to why he felt the effects more slowly, but he could catch up if he wished to.

---

Once their dinner did finally come to an end, Vreta did keep his word and joined the group to this club Kalax apparently frequented. They did not go immediately to the club from the restaurant, as the Humans insisted they needed to change their clothing before going to a new place. As his people did not tend to wear clothes, Vreta found the intricacies of Human customs in regards to their fashion to be entirely foreign, and seemingly arbitrary. The quality of the clothing that Kalax and the agent were wearing seemed to be quite high, so he was not sure what would make the change necessary. In any event, Vreta did not need to wait too long at Kalax’s home for the three of them to be ready to leave.

In contrast to the places they had been so far, the flight to the club took them down a few levels deep into the city. Many parts of the Threria’s lower layers could not see the sky, so many areas made use of a simulated sky on the underside of the layer above. As nightfall had already descended upon the city, they were under a simulated night sky, but still with well-lit streets. Windows of the surrounding buildings could all be sufficiently polarized to block out any and all light from the outside, so they could control interior light levels as they saw fit.

Despite the wealth Vreta had acquired over the years, he was still no stranger to the less than “high-class” parts of the city, and the club was certainly a far cry from the fine dining they had been enjoying less than an hour before. Nothing could be heard from the street outside, but once through the doors, the thumping bass and rhythmic beats of the music dominated the air, even moreso than the crowd in attendance. Although Vreta had never been to this club, specifically, but he knew how they tended to operate. When the lights were up and the hologram projectors disabled, the interior was largely a bland, white room. However, the sophistication of Rothian holography allowed the club coordinators to any illusion they so desired to tailor the atmosphere to the crowd’s liking. Such holograms were convincing to the point that, especially for tourists, one who was not previously aware could go through their entire night without noticing.

Inside, the overall atmosphere of the club was remarkably different from anything Vreta had seen on Rothia, or Outremer, for that matter. Just a quick look around at the club’s patrons showed that they catered to more than just Rothians, as about half of them were of a mix of species, Humans included. The air was comfortable to Vreta, though still quite warm by Human standards. The club’s theme for the night made the whole place seem particularly vintage. The dance floor itself could be shaped and reformed to create platforms and objects, which were then overlaid with holograms to make the whole place seem like it came from a time centuries in the past. Granted, Vreta was not quite sure what culture this place was taking its inspiration from. If it was Rothian, it was from before his time.

The Cradle

Vreta felt like he had missed the context for whatever joke Freyr was laughing at, but in any case, he answered with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Well…yes. Every year, the Rahn’Saki honors citizens who accomplish something of significant benefit to our society as a whole, which is accompanied by monetary rewards. If I were judged to have played an important role in saving your world, I would be awarded for it. Perhaps not as much as if I had directly saved a Rothian world, I will admit, but to help your people also helps mine.”

Chuckling to himself for a moment, Vreta briefly interrupted himself to make some more progress on his steak before continuing. “Of course, I am in no dire need of any reward. I am...how did that one Human put it...’absolutely loaded.’ Is that the right expression?” He asked, laughing again. “I have not retired in quite a long time. I just keep finding work that I find fulfilling. I am not one of the scientists like you, so I doubt I will be one of the heroes of this expedition, but I still hope I can make a difference in the end.”

The Cradle

Freyr might have been able to spot some awkwardness in Vreta’s expression as she gave him her answer. It was sometimes easy to overlook the effects a limited lifespan would have on how other species’ lived their lives, and to Vreta, he found the notion of impending mortality to be an uncomfortable topic to discuss. While he might have been adjusted to it more than most Rothians, he still did not deal easily with the topic of death. He took his time sampling chunks of different steaks and sipping wine while she explained, and he was fully composed by the time it was his turn to respond. “Yes, of course. My apologies, I sometimes forget that retirement is a different matter for most other species. It is a…temporary thing for us.”

Vreta took another sip of wine, then tried to continue along the vein of the more optimistic parts of the conversation. “But I was more referring to the time after all of this is over. After we solve this problem with the Cradle, after your planet is safe. If your team is responsible for saving your world, would you all not be deserving of a reward substantial enough that you would not have to work again, if you did not choose to? Does your government have any system of rewards for its heroes?”

Halo: Aegis Team

The two teams arranged themselves quickly once they had been given orders, then proceeded down the split paths with haste. The corridors were fairly narrow, though fortunately there was no resistance in the halls themselves, at least for now. Both paths led downwards towards large chambers that were similar, though not identical.

Down the left path, the final door opened into a wide, tall chamber. Its original purpose to the Forerunners was not apparent, but as it was open and mostly featureless, it was now filled with stacks of crates almost from one wall to the other, though they did have an orderly arrangement that allowed one to navigate between them. There were also two rows of three long, flat columns each going from the floor to two walkways above. One was on the far side of the room, while the other row was on the near side just in front of the door the team entered through. Although they could not see through the ceiling above them, there was presumably a second walkway just above them, overlooking the center of the room.

Among the collection of crates in the center of the chamber was where the enemy had been putting up barricades and starting to fortify. They mostly consisted of metal, deployable barriers, though Humans were not the only defenders among them. There was also a small pack of Brutes, four individuals, though their leader wore the armor of a Chieftain. Including the Human rebels, there were about a dozen defenders ahead of them from what they could see. The Jiralhanae used exclusively their own weapons, such as spikers, or a gravity hammer in the case of the Chieftain. The Humans, meanwhile, wielded a mix of Human and Covenant weaponry. Out of those that were visible as the team entered the chamber, two carried storm rifles, one a needler, and one a carbine.

Most notably, the Humans and Brutes did not appear to be entirely unified. Some of the Humans seemed to be on alert and in defensive positions, but the Chieftain seemed to be having an altercation with a Human commander. Just as Aviza’s team was making it into the room, the Chieftain struck the Human “lightly”, which, for a Brute, was still enough to knock him clean off of his feet. “Cowards! There will be no retreat; we will crush them, feast on their flesh, and suck the marrow from their bones! Flee from them, and I will make you my dessert.”

---

Vael 'Virisusai and Tasuma

Vael led his team from the front down the right path. He moved alongside Tasuma through the halls, as a Mgalekgolo could force its way through nearly any obstacle they might come across in the halls. Fortunately, they did seem to have moved quickly enough that their enemy did not have time to fortify the halls. Although, the moment they reached the large chamber at the end of the hall, they faced immediate resistance.

The chamber itself was large and quite open, except for the crates in the center of the room. They were stacked and organized neatly, though it was not obvious from the outside whether or not they contained weapons. What was apparent was that the rebels had put up barriers in the center for cover, including two mounted heavy machine guns, both of which had opened fire as soon as the door had opened.

Fortunately, Vael’s team was not left completely without options. There were two of what seemed to be support struts running diagonally up to the ceiling, one to the left and right of the door Vael’s team was entering through. The struts were wide, so they did offer ample cover. Vael lunged and rolled to the left to get behind one of the struts as quickly as he could, though even with his armor’s shield strength, the heavy weapons had very nearly depleted them in just the few moments he had been exposed to incoming fire.

“Spread out and get to cover!” Vael ordered, though Tasuma took that order at a slower pace. It kept a low posture with its shield in front to protect itself, then used the smoke launchers mounted on its armor to fire two smoke grenades towards the center of the room. It would take a short time for the smoke to fill out, but it would at least provide partial cover for the rest of the team to move. Overall, the Hunter’s armor could handle the incoming fire for a time, which, together with the smoke, would hopefully allow the rest of the team to reach cover.

It was difficult for Vael to see in detail, but there seemed to be ten or fifteen Humans ahead of them. The chamber was longer than it was wide, and he could see an upper walkway that ran along the right side of the room to the far side, with a ramp to just next to the other support strut to access it. However, from his angle, he could not see if there were more rebels up on the walkway defending that path.