Jump 123: Halo Covenant

Jump 123: Halo Covenant

Location: High Charity, 2525 CE
Age: 63
Identity: [-350] Special, Sangheili
Drawbacks: [+800] Extended Stay, Tie-In Game, ONI Priority Target, Cole Proto-Oh, Come on!, Dishonored
Prophecy: Age of Abandonment

[Free]      Notably Disconcerting
[200/1450]  Unquestioned
[600/1450]  Supremely Adaptable
[Free]      Elite Bearings
[650/1450]  Sensors Supreme
[1450/1450] Writ of Union

You know, it's interesting when I stop to think about it, how I can instinctively shift to a shape that better suits the era and location that I'm in. Theoretically, human could still work, but practicality trumps that and it appears I'm quite different. Sangheili is not unsuitable, I will say, though.

It's just a pity that circumstances being what they are, I find myself inexplicably accountable to the Covenant's rulers for allowing a human ship to delete its navigational data instead of capturing it intact, among other related issues. Evidently, rumors of me doing it intentionally weren't helpful. And when I failed to keep my tongue in check after being dragged in front of the Hierarchs, well... what's a little heresy between friends?

Apparently it's a lot considering the Hierarchs decided I ought to wear the silver armor and engage in suicide missions in their name to regain any shred of honor with the hopes of my death in glorious combat.

Of course, it was their mistake to keep me alive. Dead, they could only call me a heretic. Alive... I could prove it. Moreover, I could prove the truth of my heresies.

Now, it was no simple task to expose the Hierarchs as hypocrites while remaining undiscovered. Letting word be circulated in certain circles, raising doubt, was not as simple a thing as one would think, but... if you can find the right circles, trade the right things in the dark, you can get more done than most would imagine. And so bits of data and favors were traded and placed in the right places, thanks to the Kig-Yar's black market network, over a matter of months stretching out into years. Jackals are always useful to trade technologies, artifacts, and data. All to set up the dominoes while my reputation slowly builds up, the dishonored warrior that unbelievably marches out of the worst hellscapes, no matter improbably.

And then when things line up, when given the right nudge, the right strings pulled, the right words whispered... the dominoes fall.

The Sangheili are disgruntled because, without notice, they've been displaced by the Jiralhanae, those accursed Brutes. Scant months after, the Covenant-Human war is interrupted by an Unggoy rebellion. Damn Grunts couldn't have chosen a worse time, and they'd not been as cowed by their homeworld being glassed as it appeared. Rumblings indicate that certain heretical truths have been spread as well, and the Hierarchs curse those damned Jackals who seem to know more than they're letting on. And throughout, the Elites of the Covenant have been given information beyond their imagining. Heresy or not, all is confirmed. But when the truth itself is heresy, there is only one path to go; the truth must not exist. To prevent it from spreading widely throughout the Covenant, the Prophet of Truth tasks the Jiralhanae with the assassination of the vast majority of the Councilors on the High Council, blaming the humans' demons, claiming they did it through some sort of covert mission. Unfortunately, the act was recorded... and broadcast everywhere except High Charity through means unknown, shattering any trust in the Covenant.

And so the Covenant splits in twain, their fight against humanity grinding to a slow halt. The sparks of the Unggoy rebellion are fanned by the subsequent insurrection of the Sangheili. They ally, joined by the Lekgolo. And with so much insanity and the Great Journey revealed as a death march, even the Kig-Yar defect and join this new alliance, bringing a scant majority of the Huragok with them.

Granted, doing this all means the ONI can no longer try to trap and ambush me on missions that involve being in human space, so this is a very positive situation for me. I continued to wear the silver armor, but now I could speak the truth openly, share it with anyone and everyone without fear; the only issue was that the Covenant still sent their combat missions against humanity, and so I often was tasked by my new (and far better qualified) superiors to combat them and give the humans a fighting chance.

The closest thing to a nightmare scenario was Reach. A Covenant fleet did its damnedest to glass the planet. An Alliance fleet showed up to fight it, and humanity had no idea what was going on; this was the first time they'd seen Covenant ships fighting Covenant ships. When the Pillar of Autumn fled and found Halo 04, both fleets were in pursuit. Both fought each other. Human survivors took advantage of this as best as they could - they knew which species hadn't been showing up to fight them often or at all - and worked uneasily alongside the Alliance to deal with the Covenant and Flood present there, and to prevent the Halo from being fired. Of course, ultimately it was destroyed.

This redoubled the Prophets' efforts, their focus shifting from exterminating humanity to launching the Great Journey. And... well, ultimately, they were unsuccessful; one Thel 'Vadamee personally executed the last mad prophet, the Prophet of Truth, alongside a Spartan. And once the Covenant's backbone was broken at last, it fell apart. Armistice came fight, and the Alliance and UNSC scoured the galaxy of the traces remaining of the Flood - initially each side on their own, and then side by side, until finally signing a formal peace treaty in 2553.

By that point, I was no longer needed, of course. And I gratefully faded away into the history books, unsung, with few even realizing how active I had been in seeking out and obliterating Forerunner sites and both dormant and active Flood on them.