Pawns of the Prophet

The Seccoona unit was already gathered around the holotable when Autel ‘Vadamai strode into the briefing chamber, every single one of them standing ready in their stealth harnesses with their helmets tucked under their arms. The Hand of the Prophet, the unit was called, and unlike the Ossoonas whose job was to observe and gather intelligence, Autel and his crew took on a more proactive role albeit with a similar level of discretion.
For over three hundred cycles, the Seccoonas had methodically eliminated or sabotaged countless threats and enemies to the Prophet of Truth in the arena of combat and politics alike, all without making their involvement known to the Covenant. Not even the Prophet Mercy was aware of the unit’s existence, something that made Autel wonder if Truth would put a hit on his fellow Hierarch as well one day. I wouldn’t rule it out, he thought, slotting the datasphere in his hand into the pedestal on the holotable. The Prophet was as devious as he was self-serving, and the mission he had given Autel to share with his team only attested to that.
The hologram of a gold-armoured Sangheili shimmered into visibility before them, bathing their dimly lit magenta surroundings in bright blue light. The image rotated slowly to give everyone a clear view of his features, and Autel’s gaze briefly lingered on the cloak fastened around his shoulders, unable to recognize the material even though he was close enough to make out its details. “This is our target. Supreme Commander Thoze ‘Sumanai, master of the Relentless Piety.”
“The Golden Voice himself?” Fira ‘Demalee uttered in slight surprise. “I thought the Prophets wanted him as their new champion, after... well...”
After Thel ‘Vadamee’s fall from grace. Neither of them said it out loud, but they didn’t need to. The trial of the Covenant’s keenest weapon against humanity had been witnessed by all and sent shockwaves rippling through High Charity, a phenomenon that had only marginally subsided in the wake of Thel’s appointment as the Arbiter. Autel’s mandibles tightened a little, but all he said in response was, “Not all the Prophets, evidently. Truth believes Regret’s confidence in Commander ‘Sumanai to be misplaced, given that the Piety is limping its way back to High Charity as we speak.”
The albino tapped the holotable once, and the image of a heavily damaged battlecruiser sprang forth next to ‘Sumanai’s head. Ceyla ‘Cazal, the only member of the team clad in an engineer's utility harness, leaned forward a little to scrutinize the second hologram. “I have never seen this kind of damage on any ship before. It looks like it’s leaking... biomatter.”
“It is,” Autel informed her grimly. “Shortly after the crew reached the Cartographer, the ship was beset by the parasite. ‘Sumanai reported that he had located the Sacred Icon before the Piety lost contact, and it is this data we must recover before we deal with him. He is expecting us to extract his crew once we are on board.”
“And instead we are to kill him,” muttered their daughter Vena, who was leaning against the opposite wall with arms crossed. “Why?”
The rest of the team turned and looked at the adolescent, including Autel. When she did not avert her gaze from his, he responded, “The Prophet of Truth is taking no chances on letting the infection spread into the Holy City. Not when the dawn of the Great Journey is almost upon us.”
“And the Supreme Commander has done his part dutifully,” she argued. “Does it not concern you that this is how Truth rewards loyalty?”
The albino’s shoulders tensed, not out of disagreement but because he knew Truth had eyes and ears everywhere. “Commander ‘Sumanai is certainly dutiful, but his loyalty has come into question at this time.”
“How convenient for some,” said Vena darkly.
Autel gave his daughter a hard look, silently urging her not to press the matter. He swiped the holograms before him again, and the team turned their attention back to front as a second battlecruiser appeared alongside the Relentless Piety, identical in size but contrasted by its undamaged exterior. “The Tenebrous Wrath is to accompany us to the Piety on the far side of the ring. Once we retrieve the Sacred Icon’s location, we are to transmit it to Chieftain Zacynthus so that the Arbiter can begin his mission.”
“A Jiralhanae escort?” Fira groused. “Does the Prophet still doubt us, after all the Sangheili blood we’ve spilled for him?”
“It is not a question of doubt. ‘Sumanai is no easy quarry, and should he elude us, the Wrath will be standing by to fire upon the Piety — with us on board, if necessary.”
“A fate we’d rightly deserve, if we were so inept,” snorted Ka’avni ‘Oltemee. “Better than returning without honour.”
“There is nothing honourable about this,” Autel reminded, now glancing at the systems report on his waiting corvette. “Ceyla, prepare the final diagnostics check on the Resurgent Nova. Vena, Rakh, you are to help her and the crew guard the ship once we board the Piety — ensure that the parasite do not infiltrate or sabotage our escape. Ka’avni and Sona will shut down the cruiser’s remaining power supply and force-initiate the emergency power. Fira, you and I are heading to the bridge to eliminate the Supreme Commander.”
Rakh ‘Pyronee’s eyes remained fixed on ‘Sumanai’s image as he secured his pilot helmet. “What do you suppose he did to draw the Prophet’s ire?”
“Ire has nothing to do with it,” Sona ‘Demalee told him pensively. “‘Sumanai was my superior officer when I served with the Evocati. He is a warrior of principle, a formidable ally — and a fearsome enemy, as I have witnessed during our missions together.”
Despite himself, Autel found his mind dwelling on Rakh’s question, almost certain that the Prophet of Truth’s motives for wanting ‘Sumanai dead were more political than he let on. Public perception of the Sangheili had been anything but favourable recently; between Thel’s highly publicized trial and the Honour Guards’ failure to protect the Prophet of Regret on Halo, there was an uneasy stirring in the air throughout High Charity. He could only conclude that ‘Sumanai posed some sort of threat to Truth that the albino could not identify, but he quelled the thought as he had grown accustomed to doing long ago. “Any further questions?”
The other Sangheili shook their heads. All except Vena, who was still staring tersely in his direction.
Autel slipped his helmet onto his head, though he kept the upper face shield retracted for the time being. “We will convene aboard the Nova in sixteen centals. Gather what you need and be ready to depart.”
The Seccoona unit equipped their helmets as well and filed out of the briefing chamber one by one, leaving him alone in the room with Vena. She made no move to secure her gear, or even budged at all.
Suppressing a sigh, Autel deactivated the holotable before directing his attention toward his daughter. “I do not wish to quarrel with you again. Not about this.”
“I don’t intend to quarrel,” she responded stiffly. “I am requesting permission to stay behind, Seccoonata.” Her tone remained even, but he could hear the distaste in the way she spoke his rank.
“And if I do not grant it?” he probed.
Vena’s mandibles tightened. Her expression told him that she had expected this from him. “Then I will go my own way, with or without your approval. High Charity is a big city, and I have never sworn fealty to the Prophet of Truth.”
A small mercy, if I did not dread what Truth has in mind for her when she comes of age. “I need you to protect the Nova. Our lives may depend on it.”
“What are our lives worth if we do this?” she snapped. “You would expect me to approach the Supreme Commander under false pretenses, and kill his warriors for defending themselves from our treachery?”
“They are dead, because the Prophet of Truth decreed it so.” Autel could feel a heaviness setting into his shoulders just from speaking the words. “It matters not whether we execute them or the Jiralhanae do.”
Vena slammed her clenched fists against the holotable. “The Prophet is using you. How many more lives will you trade for his schemes before you admit it?”
“As many as I must, and even more still,” growled the albino, his voice underscored by resignation. “I may be short of sight, but I am not blind. I shall keep my word if he keeps his, and so long as I do, Rahnelo is safe.”
“You owe nothing to Rahnelo! They rejected you when you were cast out, and yet you still shield them! Truth preys on your loyalty because it allows him to hold power over you — and for three hundred cycles you have simply let him! Where is the honour in that?”
“Fools covet power, and honour is no use when it is led by pride. There is no glory in what we do, but I know the purpose I serve — and it is my own, not the Prophet’s.”
“So you say,” she said reproachfully. “You have become someone you reviled. Someone you once promised you would never become.”
“Someone I had to become,” he corrected wearily. It was the truth, as much as part of him wished it wasn’t.
Vena gave him a long look of profound sadness and disappointment. “If this is so, father, then I can no longer fight by your side.” As she made to leave, Autel instinctively moved to step in front of her. The younger Sangheili’s fingers brushed against the ria’kun at her hip. “Do you intend to stop me?”
He shook his head. “I could never harm you. I just... I know you would understand, if only you saw Rahnelo as I do.”
“But I don’t. My place — my home — is among the stars, because that is the life I was born into. Because you chose your people over yourself, and mother — and me. You still do, even now.”
“That’s not—”
“Do not deny it,” Vena said quietly. “I honour and cherish you, father, and I always will. But I still fondly remember the days before you tethered us to the Prophet of Truth, faint as those memories are now. We struggled, yes, but we were happy... weren’t we?”
Autel strode forward and gently placed one hand on her shoulder. His other hand rested above her lower heart. “We were. But happiness alone will not fulfill you. It is finding our purpose that makes us whole.”
“Then I must find mine, for it is not here with you.”
Autel lowered his head, not sure he was ready to face the fact that his daughter was nearly grown up. “I must stay the course, but that does not mean you should do the same. You are free to go, Vena.”
Vena placed her hand over his, pressing it against her heart. “So are you, if you choose to be. I hope you do, before you outlive your usefulness to the Prophet as well.” With that, she pulled away, marching off toward the hangar to say goodbye to Ceyla and the rest of the crew.
Not for the first time, Autel questioned why it was that the things he wanted seemed to only slip farther out of reach the more he tried to hold onto them. Perhaps it’s just as well that she is staying behind. I will not have to worry about her facing the parasite at least. And yet the twisting feeling in his gut tightened at the thought of leaving his daughter in High Charity amidst the rising tensions between the Sangheili and the rest of the Covenant.
I will return before the end of the cycle. Until then, she will be safer here.