Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for my OCs. Everything belongs to their respected owners. I also don't make money off this story. I do it for the enjoyment of writing and the franchise.

When Thel and Isabel passed the entrance that led from the building to the outside, she heard Donovan making small talk with Erdo. The gesture appeared to be unsuccessful or, at least, a one way situation. The Sangheili officer was not even making an attempt to focus or respond to anything the male super solider was saying. 'Ramat was silent as he focused on his data pad. The ridiculous quality of the sight made the woman snort derisively.

No surprise there, the woman internally huffed before briefly glancing at Diablo. Idiot! Her mental scolding was brought to an abrupt end when she felt the cube being gently pulled from her grasp. Following a couple of quick blinks to help pull her attention to the present again, she saw 'Vadam taking the artifact from her hold. She offered no resistance to his action.

"Major," Arbiter addressed while trekking toward 'Ramat.

"Yes, sir," Erdo responded, coming to attention at his leader's beckon in a prompt, crisp fashion.

"Save your findings for later and continue with your assigned task," Thel ordered as he handed the cube to the officer. "We shall assemble to discuss what we have learned once the T'vaoan has been fully questioned and taken care of."

" 'Taken care of', sir?" 'the Major asked, firming the grip he had on the ancient, ornate object upon retrieval from 'Vadam.

"A detail you do not need to concern yourself with," Arbiter replied plainly. He conveyed the statement in a way that left no room for argument or further explanation on the matter.

Easily picking up the quality of his CO's words, 'Ramat bowed his head in understanding.

"You are dismissed, Major," Thel declared. While Erdo went back inside with the cube in hand, 'Vadam shifted to Dawson who stood a small ways behind him. His expression became a bit softer with pleased, tender amusement at how dutiful she appeared. Her posture was secure, yet flexible like she was ready to spring into action at any time. Despite how relaxed her arms seemed to be hanging down her sides, he knew the moment she needed to, any weapon she had on her would be drawn and aimed.

Never stops being a warrior, does she? he inwardly mused, content by the concept and grateful to have her as an ally. Before he could reflect more on the notion, her gently stoic and professional voice brought him back to the present, "Sir…?" Truly not caring if his straying thoughts were noticed by the two super soldiers or not, Arbiter faintly sighed prior to smiling at Isabel.

"You have your orders, Shadow," he merely said to her. "See to them."

A bit confused by the seemingly deep, silent stare followed by the sudden, yet slight change in mood, she peered at him for a second. However, her militaristic instincts promptly pulled her out of the brief daze. More out of habit than anything, she straightened her stance and saluted.

"Dismissed."

When she walked passed him, time appeared to slow as he wrapped his arm around one of her own. Upon reaching her hand, he took and gave it a squeeze. Warmth spread from his chest and soothed his body while she returned the gesture with just as much sincerity.

"If Diablo becomes an issue as you are fulfilling your tasks, stay close to any of my brethren," he whispered to her. "Report it to me afterwards."

"I'll be fine, Arbiter," she whispered back. Her tone was gentle, yet resolved. "Still, thank you. I will do as you say."

"Very good." After squeezing her hand a second time, Thel released her. Then 'Vadam looked at the male Spartan and motioned with his head, "Diablo, you are to resume your current duty of patrolling the area. You are dismissed." Leaving the command at that, Arbiter trekked back to the building where the T'vaoan was being held.

The events that happened around the male super solider without any sort of acknowledgment from any of the figures left Diablo taken a back. For a moment, he quietly stood there in a bewildered fashion. In the meantime, he aimlessly gazed about like it would provide him with some kind of answer to his puzzlement. When the careless deed proved unhelpful, he peered back in the direction Thel left toward.

"Uh…sir, yes, sir…" Diablo said, his words more of a question than a statement.

The day progressed onward as the occupants of the campsite were immersed in their appointed duties.

Unconsciously basking in the muffled solitude of the area around him, Major Erdo 'Ramat intently studied and translated the inscriptions on the Forerunner door. Occasionally, he bent down to examine the cube, which he had placed on the floor near one of his hooves. While keeping the initial symbols and what he had deciphered so far clear in his head, he proceeded to make what connections he could – whether it related to a particular event or some type of theory. No matter the outcome granted to him, he stored the information away for later. The Major repeated a similar process with the inserted key, despite how little it was externally displayed right now.

Diablo resumed his patrol of the encompassed region. He performed the task as more of a means of avoiding boredom than actually following 'Vadam's order. Donovan was aware of the notion he could probably trek farther beyond the border of the encampment. In fact, the Sangheili-occupied Ghosts, which had taken part in the ambush earlier, had vanished when he had been finished prepping the T'vaoan for Arbiter. The male Spartan guessed they had headed back in the direction they had come to return to whatever duty they had been commanded to do. Whatever that had been, the super solider couldn't say or simply didn't care.

Diablo guessed the main reasons why the warriors were allowed to travel greatly outside the camp's perimeter. First, they were under direct orders from either Thel or one of the other superior Sangheili officers. Donovan had not doubt rouge Sangheili soldiers existed somewhere within the alien race's ranks. Despite that, he believed most, if not, all the warriors here were unwaveringly loyal to those they served under. That trait played a role in the second reason.

With loyalty comes trust, he rationalized.

The pilots of those Ghosts were fellow Sangheili. This meant enough trust had been built with their COs to leave little room for question about the soldiers' inevitable return.

The concept caused the Spartan to pause while peering out into the softly lit horizon. His eyes casually scanned the vista – seeing only the illuminated, lightly swaying greenery. Whichever route the warriors had taken, they had not come back yet. It would seem the soldiers' duty carried them out of sight for a prolonged period of time. Now, if Diablo were to attempt to explore beyond visible view, one or more Sangheili would speak up about it – alerting the rest, including Isabel, to his presence.

How boring…Donovan dryly sighed. After that, he continued his patrol. As he did, he felt a pair of eyes on him. Following the sensation, he guided his eyes toward the feeling until they landed on Shadow who was glancing over her shoulder. Due to the helmet and visor, Diablo couldn't tell if she was truly staring at him or not. However, before he could react in any way, she shifted her attention to the trio of Sangheili near her while acting like she had never looked back. Unperturbed by her action, Donovan shrugged and resumed his task.

"What is it, Spartan?" a Minor asked who stood to one of her sides.

Upon meeting the officer's gaze, she gently shook her head, "It's nothing. Now, I suggest…"

Even though the woman had to deal with the occasional questioning dispute from the warriors she interacted with, she was appreciative to be in their company. Not only did she share some militaristic qualities with them, but the younger, less experienced soldiers appeared to welcome her presence and advice. The latter and understanding certain viewpoints of the veterans helped to keep her irritation in check. Plus, she always informed the group of Sangheili she was under the order of 'Vadam. When the information was argued against, Dawson countered in the same, aloof, and professional manner, "Take it up with Arbiter. I am merely carrying out the order he has given me." Fortunately, that seemed to quell any further conflict.

Following that initial hurdle, she discussed offensive tactics and defensive measures with each and every warrior and unit. She sought their opinion, advice, and reasoning behind current formations and setups first before offering her own. The hesitation on some of her better ideas was expected. The lack of initial, prompt responses gave it away. Though, a few groups and/or individuals were not as lengthy in their reactions as others. Those who needed time to consider eventually – albeit begrudgingly – accepted her plans. Once agreed upon, Isabel went more into detail while directing weapons, barracks, and even Sangheili as needed.

By the time her duty reached completion, the sky's illumination appeared to stretch and touch anything and everything the planet housed in a warm, radiant light. She was shifting one of the human-made turrets into a different position as a final step in her task. While moving it, she heard someone behind her ask in a casual tone, "Need some help?" Immediately recognizing the voice and the figure who it belonged to, she lightly but fiercely hissed, "Go away, Diablo! I'm fine."

"That goes without saying," he teased. "And what is with this 'Diablo' business? Why don't – "

"Why don't you do something productive?" the woman spat, turning and setting down the weapon so the barrel of it was aimed toward the other Spartan. "I believe you were assigned on patrolling duty."

He shrugged, "I was, but I'm done now."

"Oh, bullshit!"

"Hey! I carried out the order since I first got it," he clarified with slight bitterness.

"Uh, huh…" she drawled suspiciously.

"Besides, the place isn't big anyway. I can only traverse the area so long before I start to go in circles. That is…unless Mr. Boss Alien wants me to inspect every piece of greenery around here." The last bit was conveyed in a joke-filled fashion.

Disregarding the quality of the statement, she whispered in a snide, mocking manner, "You do that." After that, Dawson picked up the turret again and continued to transfer it to its new location. Initially, she was relieved when she heard Donovan's retreating steps. However, with how well she knew him, she became a bit apprehensive. She wondered if he was merely planning something and would enact it the second she was fully focused on her finishing her deed or following that.

Before Isabel's thoughts could be pulled in that direction, motion accompanied by the sound of soft, firm steps caught her attention. As she placed the weapon down, she looked to see a small number of Sangheili exit the interrogation building. She observed them until her brows unconsciously rose at the sight of Thel and 'Lavat who brought up the end of the procession. She saw the two alien leaders briefly exchange words. Upon finishing, the pair parted ways with the Field Master going towards the way the other Sangheili had gone.

While 'Vadam approached the woman, she straightened her posture and saluted as a means of readying herself to address him in a formal, professional fashion.

"At ease," he nodded to her with a faint, prompt smile. "Report."

While loosening her stance a little, yet keeping it proper and firm, she did as requested, "Of course. I have spoken to as many Sangheili as possible to get an idea of what has already been done to prepare for a possible attack."

"How did it go with those you interacted with? Did any of my brethren give you any trouble?" Despite how casually the question was conveyed, it held of a hint of wary ire to it.

"Overall, it wasn't too bad," she replied, keeping her shoulders still so they wouldn't lift in a shrugging gesture. "I always ensured to inform them I was under your orders."

"And their response…?"

" 'Take it up with Arbiter. I am merely carrying out the order he has given me,' " Dawson repeated the phrase she had used earlier with a somewhat sly, arrogant smile. It and her features relaxed in a soft, stoic manner when she spoke up again. "That seem to settle any further argument."

"Understood. Continue."

Following a nod, she spent the next few minutes explaining what she had done. As she did, she occasionally motioned with her head or hands to either specific locations, warriors, or weapon emplacements. If the matter remained unclear, Isabel clarified as best as she could while guiding him to said matter. Upon conclusion, she said, "I worked as best and as much as I could with the resources and soliders present. If there is anything more I could've done – "

"It is all right, Shadow," Thel soothed. "It is as you say, at the moment, we are limited on warriors and assets such as weapons and the like. Every one of us can do so much before it becomes trivial or irrelevant."

She just nodded in acknowledgement.

"Before proceeding, we will be breaking for a short time to gather our thoughts as well as collect those who will be attending the briefing later," he plainly stated. "While that is transpiring, rejoin Major 'Ramat and see if there is anything you can do to help with his task."

She crisply saluted, "Understood."

He bowed his head, "You are dismissed."

The two were about to completely part ways when the woman suddenly recalled a notion she had considered earlier. Stopping mid-step, she turned slightly to face him and called out, "Arbiter."

Picking up the beckon, he stopped in his own trek and shifted about to address her, "What is it, Shadow?"

Before speaking, she stepped closer in order for the topic of the conversation to be between her and him alone, "Permission to speak with some freedom, sir?"

"Granted," he permitted, his tone growing curious but remaining official.

"And I mean this with the utmost respect – "

"Dawson," he chuckled. "Simply say what you desire to say."

Following a second's pause, she awkwardly cleared her throat, "Y-Yes, of course. Since we face the possibility of an attack from the Covenant, how about we hold off on finding the Fleet Master? Instead of having the Ghosts look for him and the Sangheili who are with him, we redirect them to seeking out our own soldiers. With our combined forces, it would be a bigger unit than the Fleet Master's, correct?" When 'Vadam merely stared at her in silence with a stoic expression on his face, she resumed. However, upon opening her mouth to speak, he spoke up – promptly cutting her off.

"Given the circumstance of the mission, I imagine the Fleet Master's group would be comparable to size of our current unit," Thel explained as he carelessly scanned the area and its occupants.

"But still smaller than the companies we were originally with?" She pondered the concept for a moment prior to adding, "Well, I suppose that is a bit unfair to assume simply because he was on his own while we were together."

The last part of her remark made Arbiter's brow lift in an inquisitive fashion.

It took a few moments for her to catch the gesture. When she did notice it, one of her brows rose in a puzzled manner, "What?"

He smirked slyly, "I would say not we were 'together' – "

"Don't start," Isabel chuckled, pointing a finger at him while her features briefly darkened. Soon, her expression lightened as the once tense muscles in her face relaxed. "But you know what I mean, right?"

He softly laughed, "I do." Then his demeanor grew professionally serious again.

"I just think, in regards to the Fleet Master, there are more unknowns than knowns. I get such matters can make things interesting, which I don't doubt you and your kind thrill over." The statement was conveyed with a playful, teasing voice. Then her tone reverted back to its previous factual, stoic quality. "However, they can make certain situations a bitch by complicating stuff, which comes as no surprise considering how much we've experienced lately."

" 'Unknowns than knowns'?" 'Vadam questioned. "Clarify."

"Presently, we are surrounding and interacting with Forerunner artifacts. That was one of the main objectives of the mission. Twice, you and I were attacked by Covenant Loyalists with the highly probable leader of said faction being part of the first assault. As for the second time – "

"It could merely have been a distraction…or something more," Thel aloofly finished the remark.

She nodded, "Despite its attackers being taken care of, maybe…before or during the fight, one got away to go inform its leader of our location…" Even though the idea sounded logical, she still left room for various, different possibilities. "If that is the case, then I believe we are the bigger, more compelling target than the Fleet Master. But I could be wrong."

Arbiter was quiet for a time while he reflected on the woman's words. As he did so, his thoughts skimmed over a variety of topics. He paused and lingered on the notion of the attack where Titus had made his first appearance. Aside from the unsurprising factors about the Jiralhanae and his troops, the only things that stood out were the shield that appeared to be built into Titus' armband and…

"What a sad fate to befall such a high-ranking Sangheili. Fortunately, all his hard work and dedication was not a waste. Until he and his troops came along, we had not had such fine prey for the longest of time. Nice and fresh."

Remembering what Titus had said following the sight of the Sangheili skull attached to a piece of the Jiralhanae's armor caused a low, unconscious snarl to surface and resonate in Thel's throat. The deep, feral sound lasted for a moment when it was abruptly ceased by Dawson quietly addressing him. Upon shifting his focus, he saw she had taken a step closer to him with her head tilted to the side a little. Despite any type of facial expression hidden beneath her helmet, he was able to easily pick up the concern in her voice. He merely inhaled and exhaled a great breath to settle himself back down.

Once relaxed again, 'Vadam placed a hand on one of her armored shoulders. He gave it a light but firm shake, "Bring your suggestion up in the briefing later after everything else has been discussed." His voice and demeanor had reverted to the commanding quality as they had been earlier.

After a brief, hesitant stare, Isabel slightly bowed her head in acknowledgment.

Offering her a small, warm smile and a squeeze on her shoulder, he nodded, "I will see you at the briefing later. You are dismissed."

"Sir," she simply said, inclining her head his way a second time.

"Major, do you think the second key is really necessary to fully open the door?" the woman casually asked. She was diligently working on her weapons on a nearby table after Erdo had politely declined her assistance with his work. With little else to do before the briefing, she had decided to kill time by occupying herself with the carbine and plasma rifle she had been given during the recent ambush. "One would think the Forerunners applied either multiple or one, grand security measure for their…" She paused to consider the appropriate word to use. Dawson struggled for a second, due to the matter of different time frames occasionally jumping into the mix.

A bit annoyed by the interference, she sharply waved her hand back and forth like she was swatting the notion away as if it were an annoying insect. Eventually, when a suitable word came to mind, she continued with a shrug, "Legacy, I suppose one could call it. I mean, not only have I heard, but I have witnessed how quite advanced they were. Hell, because of the cube, I've become a participant – unwilling, mind you."

"Which led you to your solution to unlocking the entryway, correct?" 'Ramat inquired, not taking his eyes off his work.

"The initial solution, yes," she sighed in exasperation, remaining focused on her own task.

"Your deed still pertained to opening the entrance, Shadow," he stated plainly. "Instead of being the complete result, it was part of it."

She shrugged again, "True enough." She briefly stopped what she was doing to momentarily glance back at the Major. As she stared, she saw he appeared to be in deep concentration. It was like he was in the room with her physically. However, internally, he was somewhere else. Maybe, right now, his mental self was no longer in this current universe or time. Believing the idea, Isabel blinked prior to returning a majority of her attention to the weapon firmly cradled in her grasp.

After a period of productive silence went by, she spoke up again, "You've translated quite a bit of text on the door, right?"

"A fair amount, yes," Erdo replied.

"Has it revealed anything we don't already know?"

"Some. It depends on who 'we' is referring to."

Strangely, the remark caused her to experience of variety of adverse emotions that whirled about inside her. They ranged from confusion to annoyance to anxiousness. Doing her best to remain calm despite the chilly, dizzying sensation of the feelings, she set the carbine down and turned slightly toward him.

"What do you mean by – "

"Major 'Ramat, Shadow."

Upon being addressed, each warrior turned to see Field Master 'Lavat standing in the doorway.

The sight of the superior officer caused Erdo to automatically come to attention and salute.

The Field Master just gestured with his head toward the Major, "At ease, brother." After the officer heeded the order, 'Lavat altered his gaze between the pair before saying, "We are ready for you to join us. Follow me." With that, he shifted around and departed.

'Ramat nodded. Before trailing the Field Master per his order, the Major peered at the Spartan, "Shadow, could you carry the cube for me? I need to finish up what I am doing."

She shrugged casually, "Sure." After promptly gathering and securing her weapons, she retrieved the artifact. Once in hand, an odd, puzzling thought entered her mind. Furrowing her brows at him, she asked, "Aren't you coming?"

"I will be working as I walk."

"Oh, all right." When the minor, confusing matter had been cleared up, she headed out with Erdo close behind her.

The moment the three figures entered the building where the briefing was being held, they saluted in a crisp fashion.

"At ease, " Thel commanded, his tone smooth and warm, yet not losing its authoritative quality. "All are present now?"

The Field Master's gaze promptly but intently scanned the enclosed area. He made a note of every individual that passed his vision while marking them off a list in his head. The moment he reached and checked off the last figure, he bowed his head toward 'Vadam, "As you requested, Excellency."

"Good."

"How did the questioning go, Arbiter?" one of the superior, Sangheili officers asked. His voice held a hint of controlled anxiousness to it.

"What did you learn from the prisoner?" another inquired. The quality of his tone was layered more with disgust than interest.

Faintly sighing, Arbiter crossed his arms and began as 'Lavat stood next to him, "Informative, but not like I had hoped."

"But you were still able to get something from it, right?" Isabel said. The question was expressed in a way to offer encouragement to Thel, despite his words seeming to downplay his action of interrogating the Covenant Loyalist. "At least, information none of us already knew or were aware of."

'Vadam glanced at her and nodded, "Even though what had been gathered was not much – not originally believed – it did offer some insight."

"Such as?" Erdo asked curiously.

Arbiter exhaled, "There may be more to Titus than we had initially thought."

" 'With the given task completed, the Forerunners saved their newest servant from the clutches of false gods'," Titus preached. His voice boomed among the group that formed a semi-circle before him. The intrigue-filled unit consisted of a few Jiralhanae Minors, a couple of Kig-yar, and several Unggoy. With their own, unique facial features, each alien listened with an open ear and inquisitive eyes. After the chieftain finished speaking, they conversed among one another, mainly with their own kind.

A short amount of time passed when one of the Unggoy took a seemingly bold, yet timid step toward its leader, "It forgiven?" The quality of the question was conveyed in a hesitant but hopeful manner. The small, short alien allowed the latter feeling to gradually rise within it.

"Those who repent and remain true to the Forerunners are granted with such a blessing," Titus replied as he met the Unggoy's gaze with a look of complete resolve.

The blend of the chieftain's words and the expression in his eyes caused the optimism within the small alien to swell. The Unggoy made the sensation known by emitting gleeful squeaks.

Titus was about to resume when another of the small aliens spoke up. While it did, it waddled up next to the one that had first approached the chieftain. Compared to the first, the second Unggoy appeared to have quite a number of years on its younger counterpart. Its features were more worn and wrinkled. The dye of its armor's color had less vibrancy to it. Minor scratches and burn marks scattered throughout the hardened attire displayed evidence of the alien's numerous battle experiences.

"San'Shyuum preach similar creeds," the second noted. "You voice of San'Shyuum?"

Snorting, Titus crossed his arms, "No. I am the voice of the Forerunners."

"Leader been touched by Ancient Ones," the first Unggoy chirped in an awe, elated tone.

" 'Touched by Ancient Ones'?" the other questioned in a puzzled, suspicious fashion while furrowing its brow at its fellow kin.

"Are you that blind, fool?!" one of the Jiralhanae Minors spat as it took a couple of steps toward the pair. "Chieftain was granted a direct audience with the Forerunners."

The second Unggoy stared at the officer for a moment, maintaining its confused, wary expression, "San'Shyuum visited too…" It paused to consider the matter, feeling the concept was more certain in its head than when it was being conveyed aloud. "…Yes…?"

The Minor crossed its arms over its chest and snorted, "They merely desire to be as blessed as our chieftain."

"But…" The small, older alien briefly stopped again to consider his next words as a notion formed in its head. "But San'Shyuum send us to retrieve objects left by Ancient Ones…"

The Minor scoffed, "Has it never occurred to you the San'Shyuum are mere steps to pave the way for the Forerunners' true prophets?"

It took a second for the depth of the Jiralhanae's words to sink into the older Unggoy's thoughts. Its initial reaction was horrified shock. Its eyes widened and, despite its rigid frame, faint but evident trembles went down its body. Unconsciously, it stepped back, causing its short, stout build to shift at an angle on one side. When the small alien spoke, its voice slightly quivered and cracked, "It…It cannot be…! San'Shyuum…liars…?!"

"You ignorant fool!" the Minor snarled, taking a threatening step toward the older Unggoy. "How – "

"Enough!" Titus roared, bringing just about every one of the alien's attention toward him, including the group near him. However, the former did not last long. Those in charge barked orders to get back to work. The rest of the camp's occupants returned to their duties per their COs orders. In the meantime, the gathering of aliens close by the chieftain remained silent and still. They kept an observant, obedient eye on Titus as they waited for his next word or action.

The Jiralhanae Minors stayed firm beneath the chieftain's sweeping gaze. The Kig-yar and Unggoy, no matter how hard they might have tried or how faint the traces might have been, showed visible signs of tense-filled anxiousness. Low chitters and squawks seeped from the Kig-yars' maw occasionally. The Unggoy emitted sounds familiar to their own species, in addition to some of them carefully putting some distance between themselves and Titus – one step at a time.

After eyeing each alien near him, the chieftain tapped the bottom of his gravity hammer on the ground once next to him. Then he altered his gaze from the Jiralhanae Minor that had bitterly addressed the elder Unggoy to the rest of the group.

"Were you all blind and deaf to the story I preached mere moments ago?" he asked in a controlled snarl.

"Of course not, chieftain," the same Minor promptly replied. When the top end of Titus' weapon was abruptly pointed in its direction, its armored, hulky build quickly stiffened – keeping it in its place.

"If so, then tell me the lesson behind it," the chieftain commanded.

Before the Minor could answer, the younger Unggoy from earlier puffed out its chest and bravely stepped closer to Titus, "Believers get second chance."

Insulted by the small alien's interfering outburst, the Jiralhanae officer growled, "You little – "

"That is correct," the chieftain nodded, his interjection cutting the Minor off. "Good to see my words were not completely wasted." While he spoke, he gave an intimidating and disapproving scowl to the Jiralhanae officer as well as the rest of the group. Upon reaching the last member, Titus tapped the ground beside him with his weapon a second time. Then he began to trek back and forth in front of the gathering with a steady, intent stride. As he did so, his eyes glided over each individual.

"Yes, the San'Shyuum are indeed liars," he declared in a factual, lecturing tone. "But do not be fearful for your salvation. The Forerunners have blessed their Chosen Ones to see through such deceptive creatures. It is why I teach their doctrine to others. I have been granted the task to guide the souls who have been led astray by false prophets."

Due to eyeing every occupant near him one at a time, the chieftain noted the variety of reactions. They ranged from obvious shock on a few of the elder members to fasciation on some of the younger warriors. Keeping that in mind, Titus resumed, "I will admit the San'Shyuum were right about one matter. The path to true salvation is never clear or easy." After he finished the remark, he stomped to a halt and slammed the lower half of the hammer to emphasize his next statement. "But that is where it ends." Lowly snarling, he added while his features briefly darkened, "The end of their manipulative reign is coming. It is only a matter of time."

With that, he inhaled slowly in a seemingly meditative fashion – closing his eyes and lifting his head up to the sky. The chieftain held his breath for an extensive moment as he remained motionless like a statue. Most of the group peered in a curious, puzzled manner – wondering if this simple action was more than it appeared to be. Some voiced this notion or a similar idea quietly among themselves. Others kept silent while they continued to observe Titus.

After a certain point in time passed, the chieftain muttered in a distant, awe-filled fashion, "'The path to true salvation is never clear or easy'." Then he gradually exhaled as he opened his eyes and shifted his attention back to the aliens close to him. "We are done for today. I expect my fellow followers to be more alert next time. Until then, always remember to heed what you have learned and be vigilant. Forerunners guide your path."

Following a dismissive motion from Titus, each faction gave their own response to his words – whether voiced or gestured. Once their reply ended, they departed, going their separate ways. They either stayed with their comrade or rejoined the rest of their kind. Some of them were almost instantly given orders to work on specific tasks. Others sought to deeds that had been assigned to them before attending the chieftain's preaching session.

Titus carelessly watched the group disperse in various directions, until he spotted the elder Unggoy who had spoken up earlier. The chieftain peered at the alien for a moment before locating his second-in-command.

"Vezilius," he barked, beckoning the Ultra to him.

The officer indicated he had heard his leader's address. Upon guiding a small number of Jiralhanae to certain duties and dismissing them, Vezilius walked over to the chieftain. Once he was within inches of Titus, the Ultra halted and crisply saluted, "At your service, chieftain. What do you wish of me?"

"See the Unggoy with the worn armor?" Titus asked, faintly gesturing with a claw.

Trailing the talon while keeping the description of the small alien in mind, the officer searched the area before noticing said Unggoy. After briefly studying the alien, Vezilius returned his attention to his leader, "I do."

"I want you to assign a small unit to follow and watch over it," Titus ordered.

"Chieftain…?" the Ultra wondered, curious and puzzled by the command.

"It was quite vocal, not to mention startled by my teachings," Titus explained, a minor, controlled growl coating his words. "I want no trouble from this Unggoy. If it begins to preach the false doctrine of those deceitful San'Shyuum or plan/start any type of uprising, it is to be taken care of."

"Of course," Vezilius acknowledged. "How would you like it to be done? Shall it be made an example of or – "

"In secret," Titus replied. "Its downfall will merely act as another tool, which I will to use to propel the true believers forward in the Forerunners' name."

The Ultra's eyes lingered on the chieftain for a moment longer before the officer glanced at the targeted Unggoy. After carelessly studying it for a short time, Vezilius gazed at Titus and nodded, "Are you desiring any specific brand of warriors for this unit you would have me gather?"

The chieftain briefly placed a claw on one of the Ultra's shoulders prior to firmly shaking it, "No. I trust your judgement on this. I leave it to you to decide who will be silently observing our wary Unggoy comrade."

"Yes, chieftain!" the officer replied in a resolved fashion. He saluted his leader once Titus had released him. Then Vezilius left to fulfill his latest order.

The chieftain casually watched the Ultra leave for a second. Titus' focus was altered by the slight stir of several warriors who were promptly quieted down by either their commanding officer or fellows. Judging by the familiar, incoming scents and the direction where the figures' steps were coming from, the chieftain had a good idea on the approaching beings. The matter holding his attention was the smaller number of smells than he remembered previously. Keeping his suspicions and tension settled, he shifted around to face the figures who soon revealed themselves to be the squadron of T'vaoan and Kig-yar he had sent out.

While they trekked toward him, he noted the lack of a T'vaoan leader and a couple of Kig-Yar warriors.

"Where is your commanding officer?" Titus questioned in a level but commanding tone. "What has happened?"

One of the T'vaoan Minors took a step forward and acknowledged the chieftain with its own, unique salute and greeting, "My mossst assstue and blesssed leader, my brethren and I were ordered by our commander to return to you to inform you we located the loathsssome Demon Diablo. It was headed for the place where the Forerunner artifact is being held."

Ignoring the unconscious twinge of wary annoyance, Titus asked, "And where did your leader and the rest of your comrades run off to? What was their plan?" As he spoke the words, he became a bit leery on the notion. However, he kept the emotion to himself and barely tangible within his psyche.

The Minor exchanged a prompt glance at his fellows who just returned a similar vacant, puzzled expression. Seeing as his brethren offered little to nothing to assist it in this situation, the alien faintly hissed in irritation. After that, it looked back at the chieftain, "We were not told anything beyond the order we had been given." It reacted quickly upon picking up Titus' low, vicious snarl of frustration and displeasure. "Ressst assured, my graciousss and merciful leader, I do not doubt they went to trail the Demon to its dessstination."

"But you have no evident proof that is – indeed – the event that occurred…" The words were conveyed more as a challenging question than a direct statement.

Noticing the truth and quality of the remark, the Minor was quiet while trying to consider a suitable response. Its reflection was cut short by a heavy sigh from the chieftain prior to his calm, firm voice, "I see. Do you have anything else to report?"

Not desiring to test Titus' patience further by delaying in any way, each of the alien officers shook their head in response.

"Very well," the chieftain said. "You are dismissed. Return to your assigned unit."

Following their acknowledgment and departure, Titus journeyed to his own, personal area of the encampment. As he did so, he silently pondered the latest information that had been passed on to him from T'vaoan Minor. Matters were beginning to become more complex and bothersome than he would have preferred them to be. It had all appeared to start the moment he had received the report about the camp occupied by human and Sangheili troops, which included the infamous Arbiter.

"Arbiter…" Titus breathed out the name through his nose and maw, seeming to make it a mixture of a careless exhale and snarl. Like an audible narration at the back of his mind while an internal image of the Sangheili leader materialized, the chieftain casually thought, The heretical, disgraced Sangheili commander granted a second chance at redemption for his failure to protect one the sacred rings. The chieftain huffed at the concept and the memory of the day of Arbiter's branding. Titus had not been at the ceremony personally, but he had heard enough to make him feel like he had been a direct attendant.

If Titus had to be honest with himself, he was indifferent. On one hand, he had shared the feelings that had been expressed by most of the Covenant members. Sorrowful due to the desecration and destruction of one of the most scared Forerunners artifact ever known. Anger-filled emotions had been aimed at the ones responsible for such crimes against the Ancient Ones and the legacy they left behind for their believers.

On the other hand, it was one of those extremely rare moments where the chieftain had approved of the San'Shyuum's decision. After all, the position of "Arbiter" had known to have a high mortality rate for the warriors who were "gifted" with it. In addition, similar to the present, doubtful Unggoy, the dishonored Sangheili was only another foothold for the chieftain's own followers. Arbiter's life would act as a sacrifice for those more worthy of the salvation Titus preached to his believers. In some odd way, the Sangheili's life being spared had benefitted Titus.

Recalling the notion caused the chieftain to lowly snarl, "That damned Arbiter is nothing but a heretical, bothersome pest now." The sound resonating from Titus shifted into a growl. One of his talons unconsciously trailed down his armor's chest plate and side piece. He felt the dents the female Demon had made when she had fired one of his own kin's weapons at him to save Arbiter. Remembering the event appeared to add fuel to his gradually boiling hatred and fury. The chieftain faintly began to bare his teeth as the upper part of his maw rose.

"She will pay for her actions and so much more," Titus vowed between snarls. However, all of a sudden, a sinister idea surfaced in his mind, which lessened his simmering anger. At the moment, it wasn't much, yet the appeal of the concept overall did not diminish. An inquisitive noise rumbled in his throat as he pondered the matter for a time. Then a pleased growl resounded from his thick, trimmed neck to his broad, muscular chest while he smirked, "It should bring her some solace, knowing she will not be alone in the fate I will bestow upon her."

Hints of imagery from previous, religious ventures against his foes flashed in and out of his mind – plasma, explosions, fire, corpses…blood…and meat. Despite the minor, irrelevant differences in enemies, he had no doubt the experience would be just as glorious, more so with the battle including Arbiter and a pair of Demons. The mere notion caused the chieftain to shake with anticipation. He snickered while his claws flexed. The faint but evident crackling of the energy pulsing within the gravity hammer on his back appeared to sync with Titus' present demeanor.

However, he promptly calmed himself down so he would not get too ahead of himself. There was still a lot of work to do, especially with all the complications that seemed to surface at every turn. The idea made him exhale a brisk steam of air out of his nostrils to lessen the irritation that was slowly rising within him.

All in good time…he reminded himself, which appeared to help the adverse emotion settle.

Once the chieftain reached the part of the camp that was exclusively his own, the pair of Jiralhanae guards near the area's initial borders stood at attention in greeting to their leader. Titus acknowledged them with a huff and nod of the head. He gave a similar response to the warriors who either crossed his path or he unintentionally went by while continuing to walk. He resumed his trek until he got to a section of the place where a multitude of trees appeared to be cocooning a delicate, wide-open center. Despite the number of greenery surrounding it, enough light shown through to reveal a hollowed out Phantom, which seemed to be rooted into the ground so only the upper semi-circle was visible. Currently, the entry/exit hatches were lowered on each side to reveal the transport's empty interior.

The whole sight made Titus breathe in a great inhale as an emotional blend of pride and peace swelled inside him. Instantly, he credited those feelings to the Ancient Ones with blessing him with the knowledge to come up with the idea and having the means to bring it to life. Upon exhaling in a serenely encouraged fashion, he set his gravity hammer off to the side, but kept the spiker with him. After that, he entered the makeshift temple before closing the doors. Following the individual clicking of each lock to indicate they were securely bolted in place, the chieftain shifted until he was comfortably kneeling what would be the very center of the Phantom.

Closing his eyes and bowing his head, he began to pray to his gods. His prayers consisted of a variety of matters, ranging from giving thanks to seeking guidance. For a time, he spent a quiet period of reflection. The tranquil environment that encompassed familiar sounds and scents merely allowed his immersion to deepen. The further he sunk, the more he felt like he was being taken to some otherworldly plane of existence. No surprise to him, considering where he stood in the Ancient Ones' graces.

As if on cue, words of spirituality from a prayer Titus had never heard or uttered formed in his head. Like he was compelled by the prayer itself, he started to softly say it aloud. He was about to reach the middle portion of it when a brief but loud series of crashes followed by cries, shrieks, hisses, and snarls pierced the air. The resonant, unexpected noises caused the chieftain's features to momentarily flinch in startled agitation. However, that was his only reaction to the abrupt event.

He knew a number of his troops would settle the disturbance one way or another. Truthfully, he desired it to be handled as silently as possible so he may return to his meditation. Fortunately, that seemed to be the case. With each moment that went by, the sounds faded out. Before everything became smoothly and evenly faint again, he picked up the chatter of two Kig-yar. Within seconds of hearing the topic of their conversation, their voices dwindled into the background until they became nothing but muffled noises in Titus' mind. Satisfied matters had been taken care of, the chieftain returned to his holy-filled reflection.

Everything appeared to revert to the way they had been prior to the commotion. The deeper he descended back into the spiritual pool he allowed himself to enter, the more he let himself go – mind, body, and soul. The experience resurfaced the prayer that had made itself known to him. He was about to resume it when the chittering and hisses of Kig-yar abruptly echoed in his head before becoming muted once more. Unconsciously, Titus huffed in arrogant annoyance at the mental sounds. However, he soon calmed down as he claimed his action of ignoring the sounds as a triumph. After that, he shifted his full attention to his current, holy task.

The chieftain made more progress through the prayer when the Kig-yar noises from earlier resounded in his head again. Assuming they would come and go like they had done previously, he patiently waited. They did indeed fade away. However, they had lingered longer than their initial "visit". Thinking nothing of it, Titus just breathed a sigh. Then he lowered himself down until his head touched the cool metal of the Phantom with his talons resting on each side of his head.

The chieftain managed to get through one more section of the prayer. Then, all of a sudden, the sounds of the Kig-yar grew insist like a gathering of Unggoy squabbling over a minimal number of teats. At first, Titus attempted to disregard the noises. Forget them, Titus, he inwardly told himself. They are not worth your time. Plus, they will quiet down at some point. And his internal self was right…partly…much to the chieftain's gradually rising irritation. The sounds would become silent, but only for a very brief period of time. Then they would return as soon as they had left. This continued on for quite some time to the point where it seemed endless.

The longer the prompt recollection of Kig-yar noises lasted, the more Titus grew greatly irked. Like an automatic reflex to the emotion, a snarl slowly rose from his chest prior to climbing up into his throat. The sound caused the encompassing muscles and tissues to vibrate. When it reached his maw, his teeth began to clench while his lips shifted above and below the rows of fangs. As it seeped out of him, it became louder and louder with each passing tick. Upon resonating in his ears, the noise reverberated off the transport's interior, metal shell.

Just as the adverse, simmering feeling was about to make itself fully and externally known, the chieftain suddenly found himself frozen in place. Unlike on the outside where he felt like he couldn't move at all, his mind raced due to a variety of different thoughts being fueled by emotions of tension, confusion, and…wonder…The initial, former feeling was brief in its existence. The latter pair of emotions lingered while the source behind Titus' stillness beckoned his focus to it. Highly intrigued, he complied.

As he allowed himself to be led by whatever had a firm, yet gentle hold on him, he compared the sensation to the powerful, enlightened influence of his gods. The notion made him abruptly pause on his own. Bit by bit, he considered the matter. No surprise that nothing of significance jumped out at first. However, like a tender parent guiding its lost youngling back home, the mysterious source directed him back on the path to its original destination.

The closer the end point became, the more familiar it was to Titus. It was the place where his boiling feelings almost overcame him. Everything remained the same, except he had a greater control on his current emotions and the noises of the Kig-yar were almost inaudible.

Why…the chieftain wondered, mentally standing in place. Why have I been brought back here…?

Following a second of inner contemplation, the source that led him suddenly experienced an odd transformation. It maintained its present, base form of familiarity, but its exterior appearance altered. Unlike its previous self, which Titus found he could only feel and not see, this current figure's aura and features were visible and instantly recognizable.

Myself…? he inwardly asked, internally coming face to face with himself. But…I do not understand…

The being that mirrored him did not answer. It merely stood before the chieftain, tall and proud. The erected gravity hammer by its side sizzled with energy like it was ready to unleash its power upon the world. The figure emitted the same air Titus felt when commanding his troops during battle. It was that idea that brought the chatter of Kig-yar into focus. As if the action was some kind of consent from the chieftain himself, the being merged to become one with its master again. The moment it fused with Titus, the chieftain's militaristic instincts kicked in.

Like a beacon, he placed a part of himself in the background, so he may have an easier time returning to his spiritual meditation later. After that, he heeded the militant-filled beckon. The experience began with a recollection to the exchange he had with the T'vaoan Minor. At first, Titus did not think much of the event – not believing it to be more than what it was. However, upon remembering the emotions he felt during the encounter, he paused to analyze the words exchanged and emotions experienced.

The notion of the meddlesome Diablo being found and its destination surfaced an inquisitive sound from the chieftain. Intrigue gradually increasing little by little, Titus slowly opened his eyes and straightened up into an upright, kneeling position. He stared vacantly ahead as his mind worked.

It's going to the Forerunner camp…the chieftain pondered. Why would it foolishly go there when…

"I beg your forgiveness, most enlightened chieftain," a voice said from beyond the Phantom's closed entryways. "But I have news of great importance to report to you."

Sighing in a faint, composed manner, Titus mentally noted with slight irritation, It appears my lone time with the gods is meant for a later time. Exhaling, he added while his emtions settled to a more awe-filled, curious quality, Very well, my lords. Your humble and honored servant is listening. Guide me onward.

Remaining where he was, he addressed the figure who had beckoned to him, "Speak, Serockis."

"Yes, sir," the officer bowed as a means of acknowledgment, even though the gesture was hidden from the chieftain's sight. "I regret to inform you we have yet to receive any sort of update from Marius. We suspect his journey have either been impended by an unknown adversary or obstacle…"

"Or he has been killed," Titus said, finishing Serockis' remark.

As if the report was a direct offense by him personally, the officer promptly clarified, "It could be either or, my divinely-gifted chieftain."

A low noise rumbled in Titus' throat while he started to quietly ponder on the matter. Before he allowed himself to sink too deeply in thought, he inquired in a distant, stoic tone, "Is that all?"

"Only that we was trying to get in contact with Marius or any of his troops, so we may have a better understanding of the situation," Serockis replied.

"I see…"

"The moment we have any type of confirmation from either, you will be promptly notified."

"See that I do," the chieftain said, his voice briefly bored before becoming coolly firm and commanding again. "Now, leave me be."

Without hesitation, the officer lowered his head in a respectful fashion. After that, he departed.

Titus carelessly listened to the sound of the Jiralhanae steps lessening in volume the further away he got. Eventually, the chieftain centered his focus purely on the environment exclusively around him. Then he let his thoughts descend into a deeper, reflective state. He stopped when his mind was just about to reach a profound, religious state like it had been in earlier. This time, he placed his psyche on a more militaristic level.

So…there is a chance the Forerunner artifact and its secrets could be comprised…The immediate notion caused a part of him to become tensely anxious. However, he quickly calmed the sensation down while he resumed. And the Demon is journeying toward there…Titus pondered the concept for a second. A wickedly amusing idea made him snort in a snide manner, whether it was guaranteed or not, No matter the company, it will not be met with a warm welcome…

The internal remark brought about memories of witnessing the interaction between Diablo and the female Demon when he had ambushed her and Arbiter. The event may have been short, but the relationship between the pair of Demons had been made quite evident. The female had expressed the loathing she held toward Diablo through venomous words and hostile behaviors like firing upon it without true, direct motivation. Though, the chieftain could not blame the female for her deeds or words. Titus and she pretty much shared similar feelings toward Diablo, but that is where things ended between them.

Speaking of…As if the mentally conveyed words acted like a cue, the memory of hastily pursuing the pair of foes alongside his troops played out in his mind. The Sangheili and human's scent had faltered from his nostrils, while it had been whipped about by the falling rain and speed of the chieftain's running. The noise of their hurried steps had mingled almost inaudibly with the trek of the Jiralhanae trailing after them and weapons' fire. The water covering the dark layered environment had often transformed them into shadowy phantoms that had faded in and out of sight.

The trend had continued onward for a bit, but had abruptly come to an end by the thundering sound of earth crumbling. It had soon been followed by a large splash of water. The initial noise and the possible consequences, if they had resumed on, had been reason enough for Titus and his warriors to come to a rough, sudden stop. Sure enough, they had avoided falling into a river-filled chasm. Unlike the depth, the chieftain had been able to tell the body of water was fast flowing.

Unconsciously, he had sighed heavily. Then he had recalled what he had been doing. Huffing in irritation, his eyes had darted swiftly but intently back and forth, scanning the water for the female Demon and Arbiter. When the chieftain had not seen them, he had ordered his troops to scour up and down the river's edge for the two. After quite a bit of time had gone by, the search had come up empty.

They must have been taken by the water's grasp…Titus noted. Meaning they either succumbed to its depth and perished…An involuntary, snide snort of disbelief made him briefly pause. However, he promptly recovered. Or it carried them…somewhere…Having not taken the time to explore the planet's entire landscape, he could not be sure where the river could have brought them to.

However, that did not stop the chieftain from considering the idea – no matter how indefinite or impractical it was. It was certainly better than completely disregarding the notion. After all, there was still a threat to be dealt with. If not the female Demon and Arbiter, then it was their comrades who remained on the planet like an infestation. One way or another, Titus intended to be rid of this current heretical plague residing on the planet.

Aware he was becoming more invested in the present situation pertaining to his enemies, he allowed the religious side of him to recede to the back of his mind for later. As it did, he centered his entire attention on his current thoughts.

If they are not dead, then they are scuttling about the land like the insects they are…Hmmm…After a second of reflecting, an intriguing concept struck him. I wonder…by some unknown force…there is a chance they ran into Diablo…The idea appeared to trigger a whirl of inner connecting notions. Or the river carried them back to their comrades…Or possibly to…He instantly stopped the notion when he felt his emotions rushing to the surface. Huffing while holding onto the thought like a clue long sought after, the chieftain exited the Phantom.

Upon stepping onto the earth outside the transport, he gathered his gravity hammer before trekking to a different area of his side of the encampment. As he walked, he continued contemplating, If that is the case, then the situation may be more troubling than if only Diablo was there. With the female Demon and the Arbiter…more action might need to be taken to prevent the worse from happening…What is frustrating is I cannot be certain how true the matter is…

Once Titus reached the sight that seemed to be a small, personal armory and vehicle depot, he went straighten to a tall and wide cabinet, which was dyed a rusty brown and purple color. Six, red tinted Jiralhanae plasma rifles were positioned in slots, ready and waiting to be used. The chieftain did not go for the weapons however. Instead, his gaze zeroed in on a barely visible control panel off to the side of the rifles. When he reached it, he stopped to type in the unlocking code he had setup long ago upon receiving the specially built weapon container. Following the final input of the correct key, it gave off a faint clicking sound before opening slightly. Titus opened it a bit further, but only until he could reach in to take what the cabinet secretly held within it.

The moment his claw touched the object, he grabbed and pulled it into view. It was a metal, egg-shaped oval about the size of his palm. Its silver tint was worn with age, which had caused the simple yet ancient cravings all around it to chip, scratch, or fade from view. The chieftain shifted it about between his paws for a second. Then its movement ceased upon landing on his right paw. With a casual breath, he swept his left paw over the top of it. He typed in another code following the appearance of a holographic key pad.

This time, a soft beep emitted from the item after the proper code was inputted. After a low hiss, the top part of the oval object slid open, revealing…

The beginnings of a startled, anxious growl resonated within Titus while his eyes widened. As his pupils became more prominent slits, he stared in shock disbelief at the small, vacant-filled space.

"It's gone!" he hissed lowly with alarm. "Where could it have gone?! How could…" He paused when a faint scent flowed into his nostrils. When it did, he took in a deep breath like the aroma would tell everything about the source of the smell if he took enough in. The second it registered who the scent belonged to, the growl darkened into a vicious, infuriated snarl.

"Diablo…" the chieftain hissed. "But how is his…" The remainder of the question drifted away upon a memory surfacing in his mind of a certain confrontation he had with the super solider.

"Diablo!" Titus roared while stomping toward the Spartan.

Following the address, the super solider casually turned to face the approaching Jiralhanae chieftain, "Hey, T-man! What's going on?"

"What in Forerunners' name are you doing here?!"

"Uh…" Diablo let the word linger in the air for a moment as he carelessly looked around the current area. "I've been here for quite a long time, chief. Not sure if you've been paying attention or not."

"Don't play the fool with me, Demon!" Titus commanded, halting mere inches from the super soldier. "Unless summoned or commanded to do so, you are not allowed to be in my domain of the camp."

"And the others…?"

"Do not turn the blade on the rest, we are talking about you," the chieftain declared, narrowing his brow and conveying the words in a low and cool, yet fierce growl.

"I see. Well, forgive my rudeness, oh wise and holy one," the Spartan said following a carless breath. The tone as he spoke dripped with evident sarcasm while he bowed in an overly dramatic fashion. Upon straightening back up, he added, "However, with respect, information pertaining to restricted areas was never conveyed to me."

Despite the super soldier's helmet concealing his facial expressions, Titus could tell an impish smirk coated Diablo's words. Not allowing the Spartan to gain any sort of emotional foothold on him, the chieftain said with restrained control, "Now that you are aware, you need to leave."

The super soldier peered vacantly at the Jiralhanae leader for a moment before shrugging and saying, "In a bit."

Following a prompt, unconscious snarl, Titus demanded in a calm but vicious voice, " ."

"But I want to admire – " Anything more he was going to say or do was abruptly cut short by Titus snatching his neck in a claw like a striking snake onto its prey. Then the chieftain slammed the Spartan up against the large, wide container housing the Jiralhanae's plasma rifles.

"You are making it very difficult for me not to kill you, Demon," Titus hissed.

"Get in line, T- meister," the Spartan plainly replied. "You and probably hundreds of other beings – not all alien."

The grip around the super soldier's throat tightened a little, "But not one of them are here right now."

"Technically, they are. Your Covie troops count."

The pressure around Diablo's neck increased a bit more, "But none of them will get the chance, not if I am the one who spills your blood all over the ground after breaking every bone in your body."

"Might take you a bit," the Spartan said, a hint of arrogance and pride in his tone. "I am no mere human af – ack!"

The chieftain tightly squeezed the super soldier's throat. But soon after he loosened it a little until the grasp was snug and uncomfortable for Diablo, "But you can die just like the rest of your foolish, pathetic species."

The second the Spartan was able to breathe somewhat normally again, he replied, "True enough."

Upon huffing in exasperation, Titus regained a part of his composure to where he had a decent enough control on his emotions, "Be as it may, I still need you in order to fulfill my quest granted to me by the gods."

"You need me?! Awww, boss, I didn't know you cared that much about me. That would explain all the explosives quarrels we have."

One of the super soldier's arms began to lift up from his body. Not only sensing but picking up the faint motion of the limb, the chieftain acted immediately by pinning it back to the weapons cabinet. Titus was uncertain if Diablo was merely being his eccentric, foolish self or been attempting to reach for and grab the spiker hanging loosely on the Jiralhanae's side. Either way, the chieftain was not going to allow such actions to pass, especially when it directly involved himself.

"Cease overstepping your bounds," he ordered, slightly baring his teeth and growling lowly.

"But it's fun."

While constricting the Spartan's air flow once more, Titus roared, "Vezilius!"

Within moments following the beckon, the soft but audible sound of the Ultra's heavy, hurried steps resonated a small ways behind the officer's leader. Upon reaching the chieftain, Vezilius bowed as he greeted Titus, "Yes, chieftain?"

"I want you to place this fool with a team of five Jiralhanae of your choosing," the chieftain instructed. "He is to be watched at all times. Deem whatever punishment you see fit, should he step out of line or disobey a direct order."

The Ultra smirked wickedly, "It will be done."

"See that it is." After that, Titus squeezed the super soldier's throat one last time before throwing him to the awaiting officer.

The second Diablo crashed into Vezilius, the Jiralhanae did what he could to restrain the Spartan. Then the Ultra pushed the super solider away from the chieftain and back toward the area that inhabited the rest of Titus' troops.

"Chieftain."

The address brought Titus back to the present, causing him to become aware of the figure standing a few feet behind him. Judging by the voice and scent, the Jiralhanae leader could tell it was Vezilius. The chieftain spoke without turning to face the officer, "What do you have to report?"

Caught off guard by the mundane question, the Ultra hesitated in vacant confusion for a moment before replying plainly, "N-Nothing. You summoned me, wise one."

Merely glancing back, Titus snorted in an irked, arrogant manner, "What are you talking about? I didn't – " He paused upon remembering being immersed within the memory of the conflict he had had with Diablo. He huffed an exhale following the end of the recollection. Then he returned his gaze fully back to the objects in front of him as he spoke quietly to himself for a brief second, "Yes…"

Promptly remembering his place and who he was speaking to, the officer quickly bowed, "Forgive me, voice – "

"No need, Vezilius," the chieftain said, cutting the Ultra's apologetic remark short. After a moment of quiet, Titus' mind started to work on an idea that slowly rose to the surface of his thoughts. "I do have a task that needs accomplishing."

Lowering his head in a respectful fashion, the officer responded, "Of course. What is it you would have me do?"

"I need you to…" His words lingered for a brief period while Titus allowed the idea that had arisen in his mind to form and grow. The second it struck his appeal, he smirked in wicked triumphant as he kept his tone cool and commanding, "…to bring the Unggoy with the worn armor to the temple."

The oddity of the order made Vezilius look up at the chieftain with a curious, puzzled expression, "Chieftain…?"

Instead of offering any clarification, Titus asked, "Have you chosen those who would be watching over it?"

The Ultra's bewildered state was broken by his leader's inquire, making him bow his head once more, "Per your order, holy one."

"Good. I want you to delay the second part of the initial order."

"The heretic's assassination?" Vezilius hissed.

Peering slightly back at the officer, the chieftain said in a profound but casual voice, "Let the Forerunners be the ultimate judge of that." Then he spoke in a plain, matter of fact tone. "All we can do is guide and protect those who are loyal from being tainted by impure elements."

Thinking of no other way to respond, the Ultra only lowered his head again, "Yes, of course. You are enlightened as ever, our spiritual shepherd. Do you require anything else of me?"

"No, you are dismissed," the chieftain replied.

"By your word." With that, the officer straightened up and left to fulfill the order he had been given.

Titus waited until Vezilius' footsteps and scent were barely visible to his senses. Once that happened, the chieftain shifted his attention to the vacant, oval-shaped object in his talon. He stared blankly at it for a second with less potent, yet still evident annoyance. Despite the emotion, most of his inner self was calm and stoic like his external demeanor. Exhaling, he closed, locked, and placed the item back into the secret compartment built into the weapons cabinet. While he completed the task, the idea that had surfaced earlier gathered and altered his thoughts into a plan that became favorable with each passing tick.

"Why focus on only one when the gods grant their loyal servant the blessing of accomplishing multiple trials at once?" Titus mused, closing the door that led to the undisclosed part of the plasma rifle container.

"Most wise and holy chieftain, I have brought the Unggoy as you have requested," Vezilius announced, his voice muffled but still understandable through the Phantom's closed entryways. "He has informed me he goes by the name Klus."

A name with a face…Titus thought distantly before he spoke up, "Very good, Vezilius. Stand by for further orders. Do not speak unless spoken to while Klus and I converse. Understood?"

"As you command," the Ultra responded prior to retreating a bit of ways behind the Unggoy. Upon passing the smaller alien, the Jiralhanae officer carefully, yet roughly pushed Klus toward the improvised temple.

The abrupt shove caused Klus to squeak in surprise as he stumbled a little. Luckily, he was able to catch his footing. Once he was able to stand firmly on his own two feet, he stuttered, "Y-You summoned m-me, sir ch-ch – "

"I did," Titus said. He promptly interrupted the Unggoy, due to knowing the smaller alien was going to go off on an irrelevant tirade without some type of secure, verbal footing.

"Y-Yes, yes, wh-what is y-you wish o-of me?"

Aware this exchange may take longer than necessary due to Klus' tense, panic-filled speech and demeanor, the chieftain exhaled in a faint, heavy manner. However, the exasperation was short-lived while he took in a deep breath to collect himself. When the adverse sensation dwindled away where he could barely feel it, he spoke in a gentle but commanding tone, "Klus, calm yourself, would you? We are merely talking. Nothing more, nothing less."

Unconsciously, the Unggoy became comforted and even bolded by the words, "You say this not about…"

"About the remarks you made earlier, it is not."

Shocked, the smaller alien stammered, "B-But…"

"The Forerunners do not punish those who find themselves lost when they are being sought after," Titus preached in a stoic, cool tone.

"I…I see…" Klus said, confusion still evidently coating his words.

Picking up the quality of the Unggoy's reply, the chieftain quietly sighed again. Then he began to straighten up as he unlocked the Phantom's entryways to exit the transport/temple.

The sudden sound and motion of the Phantom's doors opening made the smaller alien emit a resonant, high-pitched yell of frightened surprise. The moment it left his maw, he leapt a bit up into the air before landing and curling up into a snug, kneeling position.

Already knowing the significant size difference between his species and Klus' race, Titus instantly looked down to see the Unggoy in his tensely curled, stooped stance. The chieftain exhaled upon the sight, "On your feet, Klus."

Without hesitation, the smaller alien leapt to his feet. He stumbled for a second, but fortunately managed to catch himself again. Not a second later, his eyes widened when he saw Titus' paw lifting and reaching out toward him. Fearful of an incoming attack, he reacted the same way he had done moments ago. This time, he shielded his head with his arms. Then he started to tremble, awaiting the harsh, vicious blow.

Resisting the urge to breathe in an irritated fashion again, the chieftain merely sighed quietly and ordered, "Klus, remove your arms and straighten your posture."

From where he was observing the exchange, Vezilius' jaw down to his feet tightly constricted while he forced his wide, muscular frame to remain still and in control. His leader had ordered him to not interfere by any means as he conversed with the Unggoy. By the Forerunners' holy might, the officer was going to see the command through until told otherwise. However, the small alien's sluggish, cowardly demeanor was making the task difficult. Instead of acting outright, the Ultra released some of his slowly simmering emotions by inhaling and exhaling deeply and clenching and unclenching his fisted talons.

Compelled by nothing more than heeding to a CO's orders for years, Klus gradually did as he was told. After that, he just waited for what would come next – whether it was unpleasant or not.

For a time, nothing happened. All was quiet and motionless between the pair of aliens, except for the environment surrounding them.

Then, suddenly, the Unggoy felt a warm, hairy touch on top of his head. Before he could make any move to acknowledge the sensation, Titus declared in a plain, resolved voice, "You are forgiven, Klus."

For such simple words, the smaller alien experienced a variety of emotions that twisted and mingled together. The diversity made him feel like he was being pulled in two, different directions. On one side, he experienced a sense of relief and encouragement. On the other, he felt lost and confused. If the Unggoy had to guess, he would not doubt his current emotional situation was due to his present, religious standing.

As if the chieftain understood Klus' thoughts, Titus patted the small alien's head once in a soothing manner. Then the Jiralhanae' claw returned to its owner's side, "I know it may not seem much to you now. However, it is merely because you are still trying to find your way."

Believing it would be better to answer right away instead of linger, the Unggoy looked up at the chieftain, "Y-you right, holy chieftain."

"But fear not, wanderer! For I have spoken to the gods and they have chosen you for a spiritual quest."

"M-Me…?" The small alien altered his tone and body to make it appear like he was hesitant but hopeful, despite still feeling puzzled.

Whether Titus noticed the shift or not, he gave no type of indication while he nodded, "This assignment was designed specifically for you, Klus. This means, following your triumph, your path to enlightenment and salvation will be as clear as it has ever been in the past."

Keeping the slow, yet sure rise of doubt internal, the Unggoy replied in a way that was a means of distraction or ruse toward either himself or Jiralhanae, "B-But why me? I – "

"I do not feel the need to question our all-knowing gods," the chieftain simply responded. "You will feel the same upon the completion of your task. Just learn to trust them, if not myself."

Trustful as back stab, the small alien's inward, much bolder self hissed in a disdainful, suspicious fashion while he answered outwardly, "O-Okay." Following a pause as he pseudo reflected on the matter presented to him, he asked, "What…What am I to do?"

"I was only able to gather glimpses here and there of the vision granted to me by the Forerunners," the Jiralhanae leader started to explain. "From what I observed, a wicked, thieving phantom had snuck into our camp without our notice. I could not begin to tell you how it had managed to accomplish such a feat." Titus displayed his perplexed frustration by heavily sighing. His exhale was coated in a cool but anger-filled growl. "The being must be truly foul and diabolical to pass through the protection the gods had blessed us with."

Vezilius mirrored his chieftain's reaction to the event while Klus' response was more diverse. It ranged from becoming more baffled and mistrustful by the second to feeling like a fresh, new recruit in the Unggoy military – fearful of the dangers and unknowns fighting and war had to offer him. Despite the terror evident in his voice and posture, he inquired in a fairly even tone, "What…What it do?"

The question brought Titus' attention back to the matter he had been discussing with Klus. After clearing his throat, the chieftain continued in a controlled, stoic manner, "It stole an ancient object we retrieved from the Forerunner sight."

While Vezilius outwardly snarled, the Unggoy questioned, "What object? What it do?"

Casually sighing, Titus answered, "I am still conversing with the gods about the item's purpose. However, I do know it is blade-shaped and small in size, which may be one of the reasons why the being was able to get away with stealing it."

Not much go on…the small alien thought in an exasperated, tired fashion prior to saying, "Understood. Where I start?"

The visible display of the chieftain's broad chest expanding showed how pleased he was. "Unfortunately for that devious phantom, the Forerunners are on our side. The last, brief vision revealed where the being has escaped to. Though…from what I saw…I am questioning how much of a threat this phantom truly is..."

"What it show?"

Peering directly at the Unggoy in front of him, Titus plainly said, "The Forerunner sight."

"'The Forerunner sight'?" the small alien repeated, confirming what he had just heard.

"That's right."

"Why so obvious a place? Our allies there, yes?"

"Indeed we do, which makes the matter of the being's escaped destination quite puzzling," Titus replied. He chose to withhold the information pertaining to the troops stationed at the ancient, sacred sight, including the unit he had sent to investigate. "But let me worry about the complexities. All you need to concern yourself with is the quest that lies before you."

Following a nod, Klus asked, "How carry out?"

"Since the gods personally granted the deed to you, you will be on your own in completing the task. However, this does not mean you are restricted on resources to implement during this assignment." The chieftain quickly clarified before the Unggoy could say anything. "But I would choose wisely. Given we know nothing about this nefarious phantom, we may have to assume the Forerunner sight is either compromised or entirely taken over. Best to be prepared for the worst."

Never easy, always dangerous…the small alien mentally grumbled as his body faintly began to shake in a frightful fashion. Externally, he only nodded in understanding.

After acknowledging Klus' response, Titus said, "Your best starting point would be to speak to one of your kin who own a set of camouflage armor. It does not matter whether you switch or wear a spare set. Then I would gather the proper amount of supplies, including weaponry, for your journey and possible conflict with this wicked being."

In addition to the chieftain's words, the concept of facing an unknown enemy caused Klus to fiercely quiver a bit more. This reaction affected his tone as well, whether he had any control over his voice or not, "U-Understood, ch-chieftain s-sir, s-spirit – " Anything more he was going to say promptly ceased when Titus gently placed his claw on top of the Unggoy's head again.

"Fear not, Klus," the chieftain soothed. "This quest does not mean the gods will not be with you as you travel. They will be your ever watchful guide and protector. Keep that in mind whenever you find yourself faltering. If they did not believe you could accomplish this task, they would not have granted it to you."

Despite a part of the small alien still mistrustful of Titus and his teachings, the Unggoy could not help but feel encouraged by his words. At the moment, he did not care if the warm, bubbling sensation in him was real, divine inspiration or not. It made him feel more determined and ready to take on whatever was thrown at him. Meeting the chieftain's gaze as best as he could, Klus nodded in a sharp, firm manner, "I do best, spiritual one."

"That is all they ask of you." With that, Titus kneeled down, lowered his head, closed his eyes, and muttered a brief, profound prayer. Upon its end, he removed his claw and stood up. "You are dismissed."

Happy New Year, everyone! I wish you and your loved ones a safe, fun, and prosperous 2018! ^_^