Something was wrong.

With nineteen cycles left until reinforcements arrived, and their shields still at over a third of their strength, Selendis should not be worried. The battle on the surface was rather one-sided, as well. The Covenant, as their enemy called themselves, seemed to have no other tactic than throwing bodies at them.

It was not working.

And yet, she could feel a subtle change unfolding. The enemy warships were ever so slowly pulling back. Bombarding, yes, but not as ferociously as before.

Selendis stared at the tactical map. The attacking vessels numbered in the dozens, but thousands of ships remained beyond the ring's shadow. She could understand sending small formations at first, probing at their defenses, but the trickle of warships had neither ceased nor intensified. Meanwhile, the Shield of Aiur had gained dozens of kills to its name, the Terrans not far behind. Their blockade seemed impenetrable...but then their enemy appeared uninterested in figuring out how to break it.

Until now, she thought.

The bombardment ceased, all at once. The crew rapidly set the shields on recharge, wasting none of the few precious moments of respite. Their attackers opened wormholes and flew through them, reappearing near the main fleet.

Selendis brought up the enemy composition. The Covenant fleet was impressively diverse, and respectably numerous. Their ship designs varied wildly, too, from the purple and pink warships styled after cetaceans, to the frankly hideous, dark green vessels that seemed to resemble bulbous insects.

It was the latter that finally began to play their part.

Out of the hundreds of capital ships in the Covenant fleet, seventy-two of them charged, as one. They were unshielded, smaller even than the Terran Battlecruisers, but their engines were powerful, and they rapidly zipped through the void.

Selendis sneered. "It seems their tactics are no more complex in space. Fire at will."

The fleet opened fire, a mass of energy zooming through space to meet their enemies. Before the bolts could reach their targets, however, five of the remaining enemy dreadnoughts swiftly exited their respective portals ahead of the charging warships, absorbing most of the salvo and effectively protecting the strikers.

Selendis snarled as she saw the green vessels pass by their colossal allies. Her anger turned to fear, however, as she saw that none of them were shooting, instead making a beeline towards the Shield of Aiur.

"Shoot them down!" -she shouted, frantic.

The Mothership came to lethal life, obliterating ship after ship, but there were too many. "Brace for impact!" -someone shouted.

Selendis grabbed the display as the first vessel violently smashed itself against the Mothership's shields. Its propulsions systems had little time to compensate, as more vessels collided with the Shield of Aiur, breaking apart into thousands of chunks, venting atmosphere and leaking swiftly igniting fuel. As the seventh warship crashed, the powerful plasma shielding broke. Selendis and the rest of the bridge's crew were thrown about, as two more ships crashed directly against the hull, lodging themselves into the superstructure.

The rest of the suicidal ships, thankfully, broke off their charge, settling around the damaged Mothership and finally opening fire on the Terran fleet. Selendis idly saw their plasma lances impact the green particle shields the Battlecruisers were protected by as she rose. "Damage report." -she bitterly requested.

"Four of our Purifier batteries have been disabled. Life support has been destroyed, as well as the primary shield generator."

"The Core?" -she asked.

The Zealot nodded. "Intact, Executor."

Thank the gods, she thought. Selendis broadcast her thoughts throughout the ship. "Warriors, retreat towards the Mothership's Core!" -she ordered. She then brought up the targeting array, damaged but functional, and began to input coordinates - straight in the middle of the main enemy fleet.

"Executor, I must advise you: this course of action may imperil our forces and allies on Halo if the Mothership falls." -an Ensign pleadingly stated.

"They are exactly why I'm doing this. The Shield of Aiur will hold until reinforcements arrive. We will make sure of it." -Selendis promised.

Before she could activate the Mothership's ultimate weapon, however, several hundred warp vectors appeared between them and the Covenant.

"Reinforcements?" -she wondered, confused. "The Purifiers are ahead of schedule."

The first warship warped in, scarlet and obsidian. Selendis already knew to expect it, but the dark, Void-tainted thoughts still grated against her own.

"Oh, how the mighty Templar fall. The Shield of Aiur, utterly shattered! Truly, it is a sight I will not soon forget."

Had she any teeth, she would've ground them. "Alarak. What are you doing here?"

The Highlord's tone was almost overwhelmingly smug. "The Death Fleet stands ready to aid our allies, of course." -he said, mocking innocence. "The Void showed me your petty troubles, Executor. Your disastrous stratagems. I have come to end them."

"And here I thought you found heroics disgusting, Tal'darim."

"Would you rather I allow this farce to continue until the robots arrive? Please." -he said, rolling his eyes. "I can see your vessel's Core is intact. Retreat towards the ring. I will deal with these invaders."

Selendis narrowed her eyes. "Do not presume to order me around, Alarak."

Alarak shrugged. "By all means, then. Stay in your doomed flagship. I will try not to eradicate you and your warriors as I cleanse it."

He cut the communication then, making Selendis mentally growl in frustration. The ensign shouted, half-shocked, half-amused. "The Blood of the Forged is targeting us!"

"Void-damned blight of a Protoss…all of you, leave your posts! This ship is lost."

Sara watched in awe as the Shield of Aiur's core disengaged from the Mothership's superstructure, swiftly escaping towards the relative safety of the ring below.

"Protoss tech is a hell of a thing." -she whispered.

"No doubt. The newly arrived Tal'darim fleet has started disabling every Covenant warship within range." -Kallo said. Their screens were indeed sobering, filled with Protoss warships utterly decimating the unprepared and out of position Covenant vessels. The Assault Carriers, in particular, had been quickly disabled, and were currently being boarded.

Dalara, the Nerazim who'd tagged along with them since the scout mission, seemed troubled. "The Forged Ones do not normally disable. They destroy, and they do so gleefully. Highlord Alarak must have something special in mind for the Covenant Storm."

"From what little Selendis told us about him, it does seem strangely out of character." -Sara admitted. "Either way, we should be able to slip by unnoticed in this chaos, so I won't complain."

SAM opened a private channel. "N'kon 'Vaiot wishes to speak with you in the cargo hold."

Sara nodded. "How long until we reach 'Mdama's flagship?"

"T-minus twelve, Sara." -Suvi replied. "Commander Raynor says Halo is primed for a simulated activation sequence."

"Great...I just hope it's flashy enough." -Ryder said, heading out of the bridge.

She checked her inherited N7 Eagle on the way to the cargo hold. Her father had always sworn by it, and she could indeed confirm its effectiveness, but using the elite weapon felt...disrespectful. She'd never trained to be an N7, never earned the red stripe on the powerful handgun. SAM and her many augments may have made her a veritable super-soldier, but it was all courtesy of the Pathfinder program.

At least she'd managed to talk Admiral Kandros out of her wearing Pathfinder armor with the N7 color scheme.

N'kon stood proudly, arms behind his back, examining the Nomad. His posture seemed stiff with pain, still, but the worst of his broken leg had been fixed - Medi-gel really was universal - and a Protoss-made prosthetic had already replaced his severed hand. His armor had also been repaired and improved by Daelaam phase-smiths.

"Fancy a ride when this is all over?" -she asked, holstering her pistol.

The towering Sangheili did not seem to acknowledge her, but he still answered, after a moment. "Perhaps, one day. I have only seen the galaxy through the eyes of a ruthless conqueror. A different perspective may indeed be what I need."

"Well, the Initiative is always hiring. Who knows? You could be our first Sangheili Pathfinder."

N'kon scoffed, but even that gesture felt...dignified, coming from the proud alien. "It remains baffling to me, to so casually be addressed by a human, let alone work with one. Out of blind hatred, before; now, out of crushing shame."

Sara pursed her lips. "I can't claim to speak for the other humans, but...from what you tell me, and what I've come to understand about the Terrans, it's kind of a universal trait that we Earthlings are quick to forgive."

"Far too quick. A thousand ages of atonement would not be enough."

Sara hummed. "I don't think even the Protoss have that kind of time, N'kon." -she said. "What did you want to talk about?"

N'kon turned to face her. "I have been...observing, you and your crew. Merely out of caution, I assure you, but I must admit my curiosity has been piqued. The different aliens aboard this vessel, they are your allies?"

"Friends, more like. But sure, I guess you could call them allies."

The Sangheili cocked his head. "Is this the norm for your...Council?"

Sara shrugged. "Yes and no. I don't think you can ever completely stamp out xenophobia, but for the most part, it's stopped being a problem in Council space. We've survived too much death and destruction together to let something as petty as discrimination keep us apart."

"You are an optimistic sort, Pathfinder." -he noted, wistful. "We will see if you remain so after we face Jul 'Mdama."

"Let's hope so...anything we should know about him?"

N'kon scoffed. "He is a fool and a zealot. A capable warrior, I suppose, but not one of extraordinary talents. I must say, I do not expect this display you have prepared to change his mind."

Sara pursed her lips. "Are you prepared to take him down, if he doesn't?"

The Sangheili hummed. "There is something you must understand about us, Pathfinder. I was born into the service of the Prophets, yes. A slave to the Covenant from the very beginning. And yet...'Mdama's takeover happened half of my life ago. He did not force us to stay. I...have followed him for too long to simply say yes." -he admitted, but drew the hilt secured at his thigh, igniting the oddly shaped energy sword that had so nearly been her end. "But, he is a threat to galactic peace. We, the Covenant, have been a force of destruction for far too long. I will do what I must."

Over the ship's intercom, Suvi caught their attention. "T-minus two, away team. Mind the bumpy approach."

Sara smirked at N'kon, who put his blade away. "Ready for this?"

The alien nodded, resolute. Dalara, Drack, Cora, Liam, Vetra, and Peebee joined them at the airlock, which Sara punched open. Ahead of them appeared the massive form of a CAS-class Covenant Assault Carrier - 'Mdama's flagship, Song of Retribution, the largest starship she'd ever seen. Sara thought the colossal vessel beautiful, especially in the midst of the chaos, for the most part untouched by the Tal'darim fleet.

"Check your vacuum seals, people." -she ordered, leading by example. SAM quickly ran the diagnostics, settling into the back of her mind when the results came back green. Everyone but Dalara confirmed the order, the Protoss being naturally immune to the damage of hard vacuum.

"Transmitting hangar override codes." -her AI whispered.

Their approach was indeed shaky, narrowly avoiding the sheer amounts of firepower traded between the Tal'darim and the Storm. When the warship's hull filled their entire view, a series of hexagonal plates retracted, revealing a massive hangar, easily large enough to fit the Tempest inside.

"I can't believe this is 'Mdama's personal shuttle bay. Can't imagine the main one." -Sara said, admiring the cavernous space, filled only with three large shuttles and half a dozen Sangheili, stood in a line, already expecting them.

Tempest hovered about twenty feet in the air. "Good luck, away team." -Suvi said.

Sara jumped off, mitigating the fall with her biotics. Beside her, Drack landed with a heavy clang, and Cora daintily floated down. N'kon took the lead, greeting his kin as the Tempest blasted away, turning invisible again. "My thanks for securing this landing zone, brothers and sisters. Is the path to the bridge clear?" -he asked.

The one who answered was female, from the tone of her voice. "I fear not, General. We were able to divert many of the patrols with false reports of boarding parties, but the protectors closest to the bridge have remained."

N'kon's expression softened. "I am not your General, warriors. I am a traitor to the cause."

"Then let us all stand together in betrayal. We have come to a single conclusion, the same as yours: the Covenant must end."

N'kon growled in approval. "Let us make our bloodlines proud!"

The Sangheili roared, and charged. I guess they don't do stealth, Sara thought. The Nerazim regarded her, amused. "I will forge ahead and secure our escape route." -she said, and vanished in that strange, trademark smoke of hers.

Sara nodded, and looked at her teammates. "Let's secure that sensor room, people. This telenovela ain't about to broadcast itself."

Jul 'Mdama wept. It was unbecoming of him, of the Covenant's sole and unchallenged Leader, but he could not help it. Few in the Song of Retribution's bridge could. They all stared at their screens and holograms, unable to truly comprehend the situation.

The Storm had been tamed.

Crimson and black had rolled over them, targeting their every weapon, crippling their engines. 'Surrender', the voice in his head - inside all of their minds - had threatened, 'or die by the blades of the Forged'. His warriors had scoffed at the mere notion. He had arrogantly ordered them to fight.

Fought they had, and they had been soundly defeated. Not just a ship or two, no; one by one, he had lost contact with every single vessel in the fleet, it seemed, all in the span of minutes. A thousand warships lost, and then some. A few, perhaps two dozen, had escaped - broken ranks and panickedly entered Slipspace, away from the utter carnage wrought upon them by the mysterious enemy fleet. Many others had organized, bringing forth a sudden coup throughout the fleet, taking over their own warships from the more stubborn captains, surrendering to survive.

He did not begrudge them. Had he not been who he was, he may have done the exact same thing.

"Leader, the traitors have secured the main hangar bay. Our loyal defenders are being pushed back. Worse still, we have reports of alien boarders, throughout the entire vessel." -one of the ensigns reported, dismayed.

Jul blinked, unable to respond. A panicked Archon tried to take charge. "The bridge! Have the warriors protect the bridge."

"I do not answer to you, Kett." -the ensign managed to spitefully hiss through his fear.

"...order a stand-down. All our forces." -'Mdama whispered.

The ensign balked. "Leader?"

"I refuse to sacrifice our remaining brothers and sisters."

The Archon scoffed. "Belay that order. Think on how close you are to the Great Journey, Sangheili!"

"And how do you propose we achieve victory in this instance, Archon? Look at the fleet! Hear the cries of the dying on our own ship! We have failed." -Jul spat.

The Archon sneered. "We had a deal, Sangheili. See it through."

"Your choices have doomed your race, and mine have broken our Covenant. Whatever dealings we may have had are null and void. Flee and survive, if you wish, but do not try what little of my patience is left."

The desperate Kett Overlord's armor lit up with his natural bio-electricity, but his threat might as well have been empty; Jul's Honor Guard and Mgalekgolo bodyguards immediately pointed their myriad weapons at him. The Archon glared one last time at Jul, and turned to leave the bridge.

Unfortunately for him, the blast doors started to glow crimson. "What?" -Jul balked. "They breach our bridge already?"

Despite his orders - and against his own sense of self-preservation - Jul ignited his energy sword, ready to fight for his life. His warriors forgot all about the now cowering Archon, and braced for the betrayers' explosive entrance. Soon enough, the reinforced blast doors cracked, and violently blew inwards, showering them all with molten slag and door fragments. Jul saw more than one of his guards perish on the spot from the force of the shrapnel. In the end, it is our own kin that destroys us. Just as before, he thought grimly.

Only, once the smoke cleared, he realized it wasn't a Sangheili that entered the room.

His brain flared with pain as the grating voice violated the privacy of his very thoughts. "So this is the might of the Covenant Storm. How...disappointing." -the voice, which could only belong to the absurdly tall, darkly armored figure, taunted.

Jul grabbed his head, tried to do something, anything to stop the pain. "Who...what are you?"

The figure ignored him, instead looking around at each and every one of his uncertain defenders. "Not unexpected, of course. The Void has shown me nothing in you and your ilk that could hold my interest."

"The Void has chosen not to show me some things from time to time. Perhaps you may yet surprise me." -he mused. Glowing crimson eyes met his own blue orbs. "Alarak, Highlord of the Tal'darim."

"What?" -Jul whispered, his grip on the energy sword faltering under that penetrating gaze.

"You asked who I was. You asked what I was. I am Firstborn, Jul 'Mdama. Protoss. Child of actual gods, unlike the paltry failures you hail as divinity."

Jul hissed. "You dare mock the Forerunners?"

Alarak scoffed, the mental sound grating between his ears. "I do what I please, Sangheili. I have more than earned the freedom to choose. Success affords such leisures...something you wouldn't understand, of course."

The Leader of the Covenant growled. "Not another word, Firstborn."

"Do you see me tremble?" -Alarak asked.

Jul let loose a savage roar, and leapt towards the Highlord. The Protoss rolled his eyes - a strangely human gesture - and flicked his hand aside. As if he'd been tackled in mid-air by a Jiralhanae Chieftain, Jul was thrown aside, crashing with two of his guards.

"There is courage within you, to be certain." -Alarak casually said, as an energy blade manifested from his wrist. Two honor guards lunged for a coordinated attack, but the crimson lance easily - and frighteningly swiftly - bisected them. "Yet...courage is such a common trait. So unfortunately necessary for life to survive. Tell me, 'Mdama...what makes you special?"

The Mgalekgolo pair rumbled, shooting their fuel rod cannons at the threat. Alarak stood his ground, red particle shield unharmed, even when bathed in nuclear fire. "Initiative, perhaps? No, of course not. You've idled for decades, content with merely surviving."

The pressure in the room suddenly intensified to unbearable levels. Jul could only stare in horror as the eel colonies shook themselves apart, armor pieces unable to hold together without the cohesion of the Lekgolo within them. Alarak laughed in delight. "Ah, I've missed this." -he admitted, dreamily. "Peace can be so very boring. Wouldn't you agree, Kett?"

Jul turned towards the console he knew the Archon had tried to hide behind. The Kett rose, his fear etched into his features. "...my Lord?" -he said, tentatively bowing.

Alarak's eyes narrowed in disgust. "Your Lord? Have I conquered your race without realizing? Ugh, you are pathetic."

The Highlord extended his arm towards the Archon, his armored hand open. The Kett raced towards it, unable to resist the invisible force exerted by the Protoss. "I have no quarrel with you or the rest of your incompetent species, Archon." -Alarak said, once the helpless alien was in his grasp. "But I do have plans. And, much to my chagrin, the Kett figure into them."

The hand tightened. "You, however, do not."

Jul looked away, but still he was showered in green blood and bits of gore. Again he looked only to see the massive Protoss standing above him, seemingly the only other living being in the bridge.

"Now, O Leader...we talk."

I got pretty horribly writer's-blocked. Fortunately, Alarak was there for me.

Whispers of Darkness is nearing its end, ladies and gentlemen. It's meant to be a three-part story, but I've already started on one of my spin-off ideas, called Of Dragon Queens and Deathclaw Tamers. Whispers has the sci-fi aspect covered, so I thought...why the heck not include magic in the Milky Way? It takes place a couple of years before this, and doesn't really connect until much later on, so if you just like futuristic Skyrim combined with the plot of Fallout 4, and don't want to relate it to this universe, you can choose to do that, too.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Big ol' wrench thrown in the works. Until next time!