Chapter 4

Alba – Occupied city center, seven hours after slip-space rupture.

The rain was coming down hard, pouring off Alba’s armor in sheets, seeping beneath her helmet and making her short-cropped hair damp. It wasn’t doing much to lighten her already sour mood. They had been patrolling until sunset, and there had been no sign of Human resistance. The streets were empty, and the defenders were long gone. The Unggoy were pleased, but the Kig-yar were becoming even more restless than she was. They were bloodthirsty creatures, spoiling for the hunt, eager to sink their claws into whatever hapless native might cross their path.

She had been able to link up with a couple of other patrols, it seemed that there was still a substantial Covenant presence in the city. What’s more, after the High Prophet of Regret had withdrawn aboard the Solemn Penance, the High Prophet of Truth had dispatched a large fleet to reinforce them, engaging the Humans in orbit and deploying more troops to the ground. That, at least, was some good news. The Prophet of Truth was a friend to the Jiralhanae, and his fleet was crewed primarily by her kin.

She glanced up as the whine of a Phantom’s engines drew her attention, watching as the craft floated over the city, the bright beam of its searchlight aimed at the ground as it scanned the ruins for the enemy. The fleet was up there somewhere, probably tearing into the defenders in orbit, but she couldn’t see them from the ground.

A crackling in her earpiece distracted her, and she paused, listening as the gravelly voice of a Jiralhanae Chieftain came through on her communicator.

“This is the Shipmaster of the Sacred Fury, calling all Jiralhanae forces. Rejoice, for today is a day that will go down in our people’s history. With the blessing of the High Prophet of Truth, we have been made the sole protectors of the Covenant. The Sangheili are disgraced, ex-communicated by order of the Prophets. We have slaughtered them aboard their ships and taken control, our hour has finally arrived. Kill those that you find on the ground, show them no mercy, their reckoning is at hand.”

She turned to see the Kig-yar and the Unggoy staring at her expectantly, the Jackals watching her like hawks from their high perches as a flash of lightning illuminated the roiling clouds above.

“What is it, Captain?” one of them asked as he clicked his jaws impatiently. “Do we have new orders from the fleet?”

“We do,” she replied, still trying to get her head around what she had just been told. “The ... Sangheili have been declared ... traitors. Our new orders are to kill any that we encounter. It is the will of the Prophets.”