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Covenant Civil War by Arbiter
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Exchange of Hats
Date: 4 October 2005, 2:41 pm
Exchange of Hats
Ninth Age of Reclamation
Covenant Holy City, High Charity Sanctum of the Hierarchs
SL
Prologue
The sanctum glowed like a contumely aula, the ghastly armor of the Honor Guards shined to gold and violet, they were in tiers, valiant kin bonded with the same consecration. They resembled celestial rows of divine guards as they were; intimidated and mighty these were the defenders of the Great Journey.
Now the sanctum was a surge of manacles, together they were embedded to the next sanctifying task of protection. They were Elites, pure conquerors and confident warriors, among their pious founders; they were the vises of the Covenant.
The two founders, Prophets hovered around a transparent image of another Prophet. They conversed with hallowed expressions, and moved with astral grace in their imperial daises.
"We have discovered a intrusion in our path of divinity, Noble Truth" The Prophet of Regret advised him.
Regret was a callow being with docility he also possessed contention. He was a guide that mourned over their sanctuary of Halo with an angry remorse. His headpiece bobbed with a pivotal sacrosanct in the opaque blue semblance.
"Without assent you have caressed our Covenant with perfunctory desire and disputed the humans on this 'intrusion'" Truth said with a revering whisper and exacting tone.
Truth was the noblest and most exalted, he governed his Covenant with elegance and integrity. His culminated diadem was an obscure circle of Halo, diminutive but all so moving.
"With the depraved 'Spartan' among the filth of humanity, you surely must have realized your divinity was imperiled" The Prophet of Mercy tittered softly, his jowls twitched at the sound of the Demon's kind.
Mercy was the lesser Prophet to Truth, he was aged and adroit, worn with curls of wrinkles that gave him a distinctive respect. The Prophet batted his eyelids in a mocking expression and waited patiently in his dais.
"Your haste has jeopardized the fulfillment of our Covenant, threatened our grand design, that you shall be exposed to a public display of our content is up to only Mercy and his wise council" Truth said raising his robed arm toward Mercy.
Regret was just one of the civil injustices leading to the sovereignty of corruption into the Covenant Civil War. The Covenant would weep this age for the next era. The Prophets… Deceitful, Brutes…Corrupted, and the Elites will destroy their bond and reign tears upon the Covenant as the exchange of ranks begins the Covenant Civil War…
The Ward
The organized tier of Honor Guards shifted from their duties, the Elites walked and nodded to their vicissitude of turns residing to their quarters. They walked with solemnity and insolence upon the Forerunner metal engraved into the Covenant sanctum.
Brimi 'Kahaommee took off his helmet and separated his mandibles, he gaped with weariness and walked to his quarters in the Honor tenement. The two plates flashed mauve and white and he slipped inside the door to his quarters.
Inside were trees he had planted himself, he cultivated foliage of a grove into the ground to remind him of Halo. 'Kahaommee walked on Halo for a brief second sent by the Mercy to strip technology from a Forerunner ravine to bring back for inspection.
He was granted the special rank of "Suppressor" who's duty was to oversee the stripping of the mechanisms from the ravine. He surveyed and defended a small squad of Engineers who were the designers and dissectors of the Covenant.
They were interrupted by a party of Humans they eventually repelled them with the mechanisms intact, and 'Kahaommee kept sows that eventually became the trees that towered over him now.
The Elite brushed his hand over the trunk and crawled into the reservoir under his private copse of trees. He striped himself of his armor and cluttered inside the pool. He inserted his palm underwater and found a small tab, he pulled and scours grit filtered into his palm he scrubbed himself and emerged with a towel around his hips.
'Kahaommee slipped back into his armor and sat on the hovering bench jutting into a garden. The Elite was optimistic and pessimistic at the same time, a conflicting bond of venality and fidelity kindled where his essence should be.
'Kahaommee sensed some sort of conflict nearing he felt it into his bones and it abscessed his skin. He knew perception was on his side and the Elite felt uneasy. Maybe it was the tension between the Brutes and his kin.
The Elite placed his unsettled opinion inside and heard a peal of a ring and the lights through the crest of the metal pinged to white. The Elite grabbed his Honor Stave and returned with his squad into the organized tier of harmonizing orange and violet.
Regret's Eulogy
"This is a mournful time for all the Covenant!" Truth broadcasted over the Covenant net.
'Kahaommee reflected the period, the Prophet of Regret, the callow but repentant Prophet who justified the Covenant was killed. Murdered, by the ruthless enemy of the entire Covenant, the Demon, or this Master Chief as the Humans referred to him as killed the Prophet.
The Elite perked his ears into his helmet and mourned silently in his cuirass, he held his stave with a firm grip and his hands sweat into a small pulp of a clutch.
"As the Highest Councilor and a Hierarch of the Covenant he will be bemoaned…"
The audience looked from the stands at Truth with teary eyes, the Grunts did not mourn but looked jaded. The Honor Guard hesitated to go over to the Grunts and make them grieve but he could not abandon his tier.
The Jackals looked mortified with beady eyes; they massed into organized rows and hissed at holographic receptacles containing tiny figures of the Demon. Over the Demon's head was a "Covet" sign, the being that killed him received special honors and experience in rank. The Jackal looked famishing at the miniature Master Chief smacking an Elite to the ground in a bloody viscous.
The Elites looked reprised and jerked shame from their faces each wanting revenge, but no one, no one wanted it more than 'Kahaommee right now. His guilt and corrupted signature beating reproachfully inside him flashed into retribution for a condensed pause.
The matters heated into a more complicated praise, the memorializing changed intermittently in the next speech…
"These are the trying times, times that are inconstant and permanent at the equivalent of our Reclamation. Times that need to be modified to this amplitude of security…" Truth halted the verbalization and looked to the Brute Chieftain, Tartarus on his right and glinted an invisible grimace and he continued.
"Our brothers" He said referring to Tartarus "will replace the Elites as the Prophet's protection!"
This was a faltering statement that gave a reflecting silence and an angry buzz that filled the sanctum. Then the audience broke into enraged outcries that was interrupted by a gleam of the doors that revealed hundreds of Brutes that took position right next to the two Hierarchs.
"The Elites have failed to protect the Prophets, and will be punished for their inability to defend us." He paused to raise his hands and continued. "The Brutes are taking the Elite's place and in so doing we will be strongly validated!"
'Kahaommee gave an outcry of rage, and locked his fury into his mandibles and gave another scream. The Elites looked furious, the Grunts now interested, the Jackals hissed in praise and the Brutes looked proud.
A Brute approached the Honor Guard, 'Kahaommee smiled angrily at him, flashing his teeth through his helmet.
"Give it up, Elite" The Brute said also showing teeth.
The Honor Guard took off his helmet and shoved it into the Brutes arm…
'Kahaommee was the first to call upon revenge inside himself, not for the death of Regret but for the vengeance, the euphonious and cherished vengeance that the Elite's would soon live to see.
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