Cross Blades

Cross Blades

Chapter the Seventeenth: History’s Shadow


“N’tho!”

The loud, growling voice was shouting right next to his ear. He tried to ignore it, cuddling deeper under his sheets and the doarmir-fur cloak that served him as a blanket. Ignoring the sound was hard, though, when his pillow was being tugged out from under him.

“N’tho, what were you thinking?”

Nitro cracked open an eye. With a few blinks, the fuzzy shape standing before him resolved itself into Piro ‘Kipaz.

“Bwa?” It was the most intelligent thing N’tho could manage to say. His tummy was sore from the alcohol of the previous day, his back was warmed by Usze’s velvet hide and his brain…well…every time he felt the metal chain links moving over his wrist, his brain turned to mush with the unreality of it all.

“I told you not to bring your fuck buddies home.” Piro’s hands were on his hips as he scowled disapprovingly. “Wake up your friend and tell him to get the hell out.”

Uzi stirred. “Nitro, what’s…”

Piro grabbed Usze’s pillow and wrenched it away. Usze’s head impacted the headboard of the bunk with a hollow thud. “Ow!” Uzi barked.

“Piro!” N’tho protested.

“Out!” Piro ordered.

“Piro, wait,” N’tho pleaded, sitting up in the bed.

Usze flipped over with lethal speed, lunging for his blade resting on the end table. N’tho caught him in the chest with both hands, pushing him back into the bunk. “Uzi, no! It’s just Piro.”

Usze peered up at Nitro and Piro with those strange, exotic, mismatched eyes—emerald and amber. His cheeks purpled.

Then he pulled the doarmir-fur cloak over his head.

“Piro, you’re freaking him out,” Nitro said. “Leave him alone.”

“That’s…that’s the Blademaster?” Piro stammered, staring at the purple lump in the bed.

“Yeah, and I’ll bet you my dessert for a week that he’s never been caught naked in someone’s bunk before.” N’tho smiled. Cool metal shifted over his wrist. “Piro,” N’tho whispered. “Look.” He held up his arm for Piro to see.

Piro frowned. “Is that Human?” He leaned forward to examine the engraved plate on the bracelet and his mandibles all dropped open. He stared questioningly at Nitro.

Nitro smiled softly. “Yeah. It’s real.” ‘Kipaz was clearly flabbergasted. N’tho smirked. “So please, Piro, stop terrorizing my mate.”

Piro stumbled backward, flushed. “I…well. I’m going to step out for a few moments so you two can dress. Then I will return to offer my congratulations. Excuse me.” Drawing up his dignity, the old soldier opened the door to the hall and closed it after him.

N’tho pulled the cloak off his mate. “Hurry up, Uzi. When he says a few moments, he means it.” N’tho darted into the head and tossed Usze’s jumpsuit out into the bedroom. The Blademaster still looked embarrassed as he dressed, but every time he peeked over at Nitro, he was smiling.

They had barely gotten their suits on before Piro returned. “Now, let me offer you two my hearty congratulations.” He shot a glare at Usze. “I’m trusting you to take care of N’tho here.”

“Piro,” Usze said urgently. “I’ve got assassins after me. I shouldn’t be staying in your quarters. You’re in danger if I do.” He swallowed hard. “You probably won’t be happy to hear that N’tho is determined to stay with me, no matter the risks.”

Piro sighed and took a seat on his immaculate bunk. “I’m not going to live forever,” he said. “Someone has to look after N’tho when I’m gone.” His gaze travelled from one Sangheili to the other. “If you think he’s worth the risk, N’tho, then I am not about to berate you for your choice. From the way you wear that bracelet before we’ve even had a formal ceremony, I doubt I could change your mind anyway.” He set his mandibles. “We can only fight on from here.”

While Usze related the story of the events in the Arbiter’s quarters, and his reason for turning his back on the Ascetics, N’tho thought hard and came up with an idea. By the time ‘Taham finished, Nitro had the details ironed out. He turned to Usze. “We can hide you.”

Uzi scowled. “A warrior does not hide.”

“Wait.” Piro stroked his mandibles thoughtfully. “When I came in here, I did not recognize you.”
“Exactly,” N’tho said smugly. “Has anyone in the fleet seen you without your helmet, besides N’tho and myself?”

Usze thought hard. “Ki ‘Chaz and Aj ‘Qorop.” He felt his stomach sink. “And Zhaal ‘Lymux.”

“Ki and Aj are no problem,” N’tho said. “They owe me for getting them together. But Zhaal…”

“I think I can scare Zhaal into keeping his mouth shut.” Usze wrung his hands. “So then what?”

“Then all you need to do,” N’tho explained, “is get some SpecOps armour. Rycl and Vaa are getting plenty of new SpecOps recruits in, and a Blademaster would surely have sufficient talent to meet SpecOps requirements. If you pose as one of the new recruits, you can disappear in plain sight.”

Usze nodded thoughtfully. It just might work…and it would keep him close to N’tho. It wouldn’t solve the assassin problem, but hopefully, given time, the Arbiter would crush the rebellion and the Ascetics’ assassins, with nobody to pay them for their victory, would give up on hunting him. There was only one challenge…other than not pounding the excrement out of Subcommander ‘Moiril, especially if he hit on Nitro again…

“Where am I going to get armour? Piro, your red armour is the wrong rank and unit, and I can’t fit N’tho’s.” N’tho was taller and broader across the shoulders than Usze.

Nitro shrugged. “Fil will set you up.”

Usze scowled. “Fil Storamy. Yes, there’s a good idea. She’s probably still waiting to duel me. Or punch me right in the face.”

Nitro clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Nothing else you can do, Uzi. You’re going to have to go down there, apologize to her, explain the situation, and promise her some favours if she’ll set you up with some SpecOps armour.” He winked. “Tell her to do it for me.”

“Can’t you come with me?”

Nitro shook his head. “I checked my comm when you were in the head. Rycl ‘Otsed wants me on honour guard duty today.” He rubbed his lower mandibles. “But I have an idea how you can get to the storerooms. Put on your jumpsuit and your old armour, but skip the helmet. Then put this on over it.” He pulled the cloak off his bed. “Wrap yourself up in that and just give that, you know, that look of yours to anyone who stares at you.”

“What look?”

“The look that makes people feel like complete fools for even daring to question your high and mighty self.”

Usze sighed. “I suppose having an oversized ego has its uses.”

“Yeah.” Nitro grinned. “If you walk down the corridor like that, nobody’s going to say anything. Just make sure you drop the attitude before you see Fil.”

*

Two hours later, N’tho was standing at attention in the hangar bay across from Ki ‘Chaz. The two SpecOps Minor Domos had been summoned by Subcommander ‘Moiril to act as an honour guard, but ‘Moiril had not told them the occasion.

Nitro tried to hide his unease as he watched Epse ‘Gamul prowling around the bay. Fortunately, ‘Gamul appeared to be too busy talking to Rycl ‘Otsed and Vaa ‘Moiril. N’tho wished that Vaa had become Commander instead of Rycl, but there was no way Vaa would be made Commander when he’d spent so little time as Subcommander.

The doors opened to admit a Phantom. N’tho watched the Phantom maneuver into the bay and dock, guided by a group of Grunts with glowing directional pointers.

“’Sraom!” ‘Gamul barked. “You will escort our guest to my stateroom.”

“Sir!” N’tho replied.

And, mercifully, that was the end of it, as ‘Gamul left with ‘Otsed at his heels.

The door of the Phantom opened, and N’tho found himself struggling not to stare at the figure that stepped out of it.

He was tall, and lean, and moved with a fluid grace that would not be unbecoming of a dancer; but he stepped from the ship with an unshakeable aura of authority. He wore a doramir-hide cloak in a rich bold claret purple covering his armour, but N’tho noted a claret helmet with two distinctive blade adornments on the sides tucked under one arm. He had an energy sword strapped to either hip and a plasma rifle in a leg holster. His gaze swept over N’tho and Ki and he evaluated them with the discerning eye of a judge who held their very lives in his hand.

N’tho and Ki bowed as one when the new arrival moved forwards. N’tho felt his tongue catch in his throat, and so ‘Chaz spoke first. “Minor Domos ‘Chaz and ‘Sraom welcome you aboard Shadow of Intent, sir.”

The newcomer laughed softly. “Do you two have any idea who I am?”

“Judging by your helmet, sir, I would presume you are an Ascetic,” Ki guessed.

The newcomer turned his head towards N’tho. Up close, Nitro saw that one of his eyes was the colour of fossilized amber; the other was a sickly, bilous green.

“’Sumai,” N’tho whispered.

“I see you recognize the hallmark of my lineage.” The older Sangheili bowed with a cruel smile. “My name is Toha ‘Sumai, Blademaster Liason to the Ascetic Temple of Sanghelios.”

“An honour, sir,” Nitro said, trying to act casual…or at least as casual as any Minor Domo would be in front of a highly decorated Swordsman…while inside his mind was racing.

The Ascetics had sent an assassin, all right, and not just any gun for hire. They’d sent one of their own. One of their best.

They’d sent Usze’s own father.

*

Usze ‘Taham stood before the Chief Quartermaster’s door, feeling as though he were standing before his executioner.

For a moment he considered walking away. He could swallow his pride and hide in Nitro’s quarters, ask Nitro and Piro to bring him food… Then he realized that he might, indeed, be facing imminent execution. He could not conceal himself in a stateroom forever. His best chance was to take a new name and a new identity and blend back into the fleet.

Usze knocked.

“Come in,” Fil’s rough voice called.

Usze swallowed to steady his nerves, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

Fil, in full lavender armour, half-spun in a swivel chair to see her guest. When her eyes met those of the visitor, she raised her eyebrow ridges curiously and got to her feet.

“It’s Usze ‘Taham,” he said quietly. “I came to apologize.”

She stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. Usze bit down on his mandibles so as not to allow any of his irritated, sardonic, abrasive thoughts to escape from his mouth.

Fil looked him up and down and said, “That exceptionally flamboyant cloak suggests all-new heights for your massive ego.”

Uzi replied, “I was attempting to aim for all-new camouflage to hide my claret armour. So much for concealment.”

“Yeah,” Fil said thoughtfully. “I heard some folks are homicidally displeased with you right now.”

Word apparently travelled fast.

“Are you one of them?” By the Rings, Nitro would make a comment like that.

“You’re a bit of a stuck-up prig,” she replied, blunt as ever, “but ‘Gamul and ‘Jar Wattin are worse.”

*

Ki took point, with N’tho falling into step behind Toha. Nitro struggled to think of a way to warn Usze.

He could jump on Toha now, but even if he caught the old bastard by surprise, he knew that Toha had power armour on. He didn’t trust himself to be able to lop off Toha’s head in a single blow, and besides, there was Ki to think about. Ki might be his friend, but he doubted Ki would just stand by and watch him attack Toha ‘Sumai.

No, his usual style of charging-in-shooting would not work here. He had to be cunning, like Uzi.

He might even be misjudging Toha. Could a father really kill his own son? N’tho didn’t know who his father was; many Sangheili did not. Usze was clearly the product of ‘Sumai lineage, but that did not mean he’d ever had a personal relationship with his father. It was probably Usze’s unusual physical features—proving that his mother’s husband was not his biological father—coupled with Toha’s fame, that had revealed the secret of Usze’s parentage to one and all.

Traditionally, a Sangheili only found out his father’s identity upon the death of his mother, when she was no longer living to approve or deny mating requests. The role of the sire’s mother in breeding arrangements was to prevent accidental breeding between half-siblings, or father and daughter, or other close relatives. It was for this reason that knowledge of parentage was passed on at the mother’s death.

N’tho’s mother had not left that information behind. She had taken her knowledge of N’tho’s father to her grave. In fact, none of the ‘Sraoms knew—they had never seen N’tho’s mother with any male—and as a result, many of the ‘Sraoms had made cutting remarks that N’tho’s father must have been a commoner, at best. The favourite theory was that N’tho’s sire was his own grandfather, the coward.

N’tho was going to enjoy returning to the ‘Sraom keep and flashing his medals from the Halo mission around. Maybe that would shut his horrible relatives up for a while.

Then N’tho heard Toha speaking to Ki and remembered that he had a job to do. Distraction would not help Usze. He had to let Usze know that Toha was on the ship…

N’tho reached into his storage pocket, found his comm link, and palmed it in his hand. As he walked along behind Toha ‘Sumai, he typed in Usze’s address and set the link to audio.

“Blademaster ‘Sumai,” N’tho said loudly.

‘Sumai looked over his shoulder, scowling.

“I served with your son, Usze ‘Taham. On the Halo mission.”

Toha’s eyes narrowed. “You and my son are battle brothers?”

“Actually…” N’tho hung his head. “I’m afraid we didn’t get along very well.”

“Yes, I gathered that from reading your reports.” Toha’s eyes sparkled as if sharing some kind of horrible joke.

“You read my reports?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Shipmaster ‘Gamul was kind enough to allow me some excerpts.” His eyes narrowed. “My son was apparently corrupted by his time on Earth. He thinks we should be understanding of failure and tolerant of fools. You do not think that way, do you, ‘Sraom and ‘Chaz? You two surely understand that those with power have both a right and a duty to use it, and those without power have two choices—to better themselves or to fall to the bottom of the heap and suffer the consequences?”

“Yes, sir,” Ki replied.

N’tho hoped Ki didn’t really believe that; on the other hand, disagreeing with Toha would be a very bad idea. “Yes, sir,” N’tho parrotted.

“Excellent. Lead on, then.”

Then N’tho’s thoughts turned in a different direction. How had Toha ‘Sumai found out what Usze and the Arbiter had discussed in the privacy of the Arbiter’s quarters? N’tho only knew because Uzi had told him that morning; Toha knew before he’d even disembarked.

N’tho winced as he realized the answer. Toha had been speaking with Epse. How had the entire ship found out about N’tho’s sexual escapades?

Epse ‘Gamul and the shipboard security cameras.

Epse had the authority to get into almost any part of the ship. He’d doubtlessly put a camera in the Arbiter’s quarters when the Arbiter wasn’t around.

Oh, shit. Does he have a camera in my quarters?

Ordinarily N’tho would have thought that he and Piro didn’t merit the security attentions of an executive officer, but ‘Gamul had it out for him, and…

“You are dismissed,” ‘Sumai said.

N’tho awoke as if in a daze. They’d reached ‘Gamul’s stateroom. “What are we doing here?” N’tho whispered.

Ki shrugged. “The Shipmaster told me to bring our guest here. Let’s go.”

“Not you,” Toha said, gripping N’tho by his shoulder. “Just ‘Chaz.”

Ki saluted and turned away.

Toha gave N’tho a slight dip of his head. “After you.”

Feeling suddenly uneasy, N’tho stepped through the doorway.

On one side of the room stood Rycl ‘Otsed. On the other side of the room stood a second Sangheili: Zhaal ‘Lymux. At the back was a coldly smiling Shipmaster ‘Gamul.

N’tho realized he was in even more trouble than he’d thought. He hesitated in the doorway, reluctant to go forward any farther. He wondered if he had time to run.

Then N’tho heard the crackle of an energy sword igniting.

He felt the heat of the blade near his right cheek, only a finger’s breadth away from his skin. The light blazed into his eye; he squinted it shut. He instinctively turned his head to the left—only to ram his muzzle into the flat of a second blade that leapt to life moments after the first. N’tho howled as his hide burned; he threw his head up to get both sides of his face away from the heat of the swords.

As a Blademaster, Usze would of course have trained in the use of two swords. But in combat, N’tho had only ever seen him use one. Similarly, Rtas ‘Vadum could fight with two, but preferred one…

Toha appeared to be that rare kind of warrior who preferred the double-blade configuration.

N’tho leaped into the room, hoping to get some distance between him and Toha to enable him to turn around. Unfortunately, the leap just took him closer to ‘Gamul. N’tho ducked swiftly to the side and turned to face Toha ‘Sumai.

‘Sumai stood there, swords blazing. Sangheili never drew blades unless they meant to draw blood.

N’tho would not go down without a fight. He scrabbled for his sword hilt.

Then something hit him sharply on the back of the neck and his world went black.