The Book of Zar, Part 1

The alarm sounded, heralding the onset of the period for mandatory exercise and outdoors exposure. Steadily, we prisoners streamed out into the dusty, dirt yard of the prison, which stretched for almost a whole kremla. Its boundaries were marked by concrete walls topped with razor wire, reinforced with energy shields. Watchtowers menaced over us, the apathetic guards lazily watching us with plasma rifles at their sides, ready to liberally fire on the yard below in the event of disturbances.
I myself witnessed a disturbance once. It was a rather trivial thing, but not uninteresting. A fellow Sangheili convicted of unlawful murder took offense to a newcomer, a thief like me, and there was a clash of fists between the two. A few quick seconds of blows passed, and then the murderer produced a small improvised blade, hidden in one of the segments of his ragged tunic. He stabbed the thief in the neck several times, but the thief attempted to claw out the murderer’s eyes. The thief would not prevail, though, and he bled to death, desperately attempting to rip out his killer’s eyes and hopeful to land some sort of permanent blow. However, the prison guards did that for them. The alarm sounded, the others and myself dropped to the ground and remained still, while the murderer was shot down by the guards from the towers. The survivors were then sent back to their cells and nobody was permitted to leave them for a week as collective punishment.
That was last year. Now we all awaited this year’s incident, for at least one occurred every year. The year before last, it was a riot. I was only peripherally involved, but I was beaten nevertheless. As I looked up at the watchtowers, the guards staring down at us, I was approached by one of the newest guests to this facility. He walked up to me, saying, “Hey you, did you serve in the Fleet of Divine Mysteries?”
I nodded in the affirmative.
“Hah, my sword-brother!” he exclaimed as he embraced me. “Ah, I served with them as well, under Commander Jul ‘Mdamaee. Oh, but that was then, this is now. I am Verth ‘Nashar. And who may you be?”
“Zar ‘Yorinee.”
“Ah… I remember that name. I remember that incident you had with another lance, where you and your comrades looted Human dead and their property, and absconded with heretical and tainted booty. The commotion you caused among the fleet was indeed memorable."
I grumbled uncomfortably.
“Right… well… I also do indeed notice you still using that suffix, as if you are still a soldier.”
“I used to be,” I said, a faint taste of bitterness echoing in my voice.
Verth paused momentarily, as if he was well aware of my tone. Then, he said, in a slightly somber voice, “As was I.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out as he spoke. “But then they threw me in here.”
“What crime have you committed to have had your fate lead you to this loathsome place?”
“Blasphemy. They arrested me four cycles after you.”
“Hmm. What did you say?”
“I went on a long-winded rant about how the Prophets were mishandling our war effort after my whole lance was killed by a Human tank. Damn near everyone in the whole legion heard me. An Evocatus who happened to be in the area sought me and wished to challenge me in a duel over my words. We fought, and within a few seconds the fellow disarmed me and was moments from running me through with his sword before the Supreme Commander intervened and court martialed me. The trial lasted barely an hour.”
“Such is the way of things,” I responded.”
“Correct, brother,” said Verth. “I shall be in chains for six cycles.” He moved very close to me and began speaking in a lowered tone. “That is of course if I do not enact my plans to escape.”
I looked at Verth incredulously. “Your plan?” I inquired with a soft voice.
“Oh yes. You see, I do not intend to serve out my sentence quietly. In fact, I have some… help… and I was wondering if you were willing to come with me. I have already approached five others before you, and they all wish to join me.”
“I shall as well,” I said with incredible eagerness but in a very hushed tone. “Just make sure all parties are competent enough.”
“They are, otherwise I would not have approached them.”
“You seem cleverer than one might surmise. Who are your friends?”
“In due time, you shall know, but that time is not now. For now, I must be silent on that matter. Let us wait until we have left this place.”
“When do you intend to… act?”
“Tonight. And you will know what will happen. All I need you to do is to meet me in the yard when the signal is given: you shall know what it is. It will be a signal that will assuredly allow us to escape.”
“Very well.”
The day progressed as usual: after our mandatory hour, all inmates were returned to their cells to spend the remainder of the day there. As day turned to night however, I must admit a certain anxiety befell me as I waited for this hypothetical signal to appear, although the form it would take remained unknown to me, a dilemma I found irksome. How could I trust a man I have known for naught but a day and speaks as if an army backs his words even though his hands are bound by the same chains that bind mine?
I waited into the night, my anxiety arresting my need for sleep. Sitting impatiently on the slab of concrete that functioned as a bed, I stared at the door with a quiet anticipation. Would Verth suddenly appear before the door, opening it and revealing friendly Sangheili? Would a riot break out, larger and deadlier than the last? Or would there be a knock on the door and something as simple as the intervention of some outside authority, perhaps a Prophet? Or perhaps, maybe, Verth’s friends are outside the prison, waiting to-
A great boom interrupted me with a furious sound matched only by the explosion of plasma and artillery shells on the battlefield. I can recall, in that exact moment, instantly thinking, “Ah. Yes. Of course. It is indeed as simple as that.”
Alarms sounded as the energy shields deactivated and the doors opened. I got up off of the bed to bear witness to the lights coming on in the rooms. The fellow across from me, a deserter named Thon ‘Shathar, looked to his left and right. “Verth said you were with us?” he asked. I nodded. “Good. He said you should come with me. The fates of the others do not matter, focus only on us. Come, follow.”
So, I followed Thon, ignoring the other inmates rushing to and fro, attacking the confused and somewhat feckless guards, ransacking the prison, or rushing towards the massive hole in the wall of the yard. Plasma rifle fire and screaming filled the prison, as I noticed Jiralhanae, Unggoy, Kig-Yar, and even some Sangheili, all adorned in old-fashioned armor sloppily painted in red. They were using old-fashioned weapons, as well, with most of their plasma rifles dating back to before even the Unggoy joined the Covenant. Verth and dozens of prisoners jogged towards the exit. He waved at Thon and I, and we waved back.
As some of the fighters covered the escape, most of us boarded onto a Phantom, which was undoubtedly sequestered by this group, for it too was painted sloppily in red. I found it somewhat heartwarming that so many of us Sangheili shed any of our prejudices towards the Jiralhanae when they blew open the walls. There were no cheers, though, when we broke our chains and came pouring through the wall. Most of us dispersed throughout the countryside quickly, some loudly, most quietly. Those who joined Verth boarded the Phantom, although many did so in the heat of the moment, without consulting us beforehand. We took on as many prisoners as we could on our one Phantom before it was in danger of overloading.
“Hah, my friends! I thank you!” excitedly said Verth as the Phantom was taking off. He stood beside one of the Jiralhanae, a chieftain in red armor. “Brother Zar, this is En’Geddon. He and his comrades are part of a group of warriors that reject our Covenant’s oppressive laws and misguided ways.”
“Do none of you believe in the Great Journey?” I asked.
“You still have faith?” En’Geddon asked. “Even after how the Covenant – how the Prophets – have treated you? Me and my kind as well? All of us? Can you not see with your eyes, Sangheili? Men of your kind know this, can you not be the same?”
I did not exactly hate the Jiralhanae, but they were no friends of mine. They were indeed on the battlefield, but I did not feel a sense of brotherhood with them as I did with my own kind. Even the Unggoy I looked upon as particularly dimwitted childlings rather than aliens. And now, to be thrust into cooperation with these beasts…
I must confess, however, that these men broke my chains. That is no trifle. I was honor-bound to serve them, to repay the debt I owed them. And in this moment of realization, I saw the genius of this tactic. The genius. The complete and utter cunning. I was admittedly filled with envy.
We flew above and beyond the planet, towards a small vessel awaiting us, painted in, one might presume, a reddish hue. I looked at En’Geddon with deep suspicion. He simply let out a slightly amused chuckle. “Perhaps you should put your hatred aside, friend. You are a criminal in the eyes of the Covenant, and we are all you have left in the Universe.”
I raised my chin slightly. “Indeed,” I said. “But there are many days to come before I can call you ‘friend.’”
On that day, whether I planned to or not, I joined the Banished.
Category:The Weekly