Is it worth it?

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Original characters belong to Halo and Bungie.

Author's Note: No slashy stuff in dis chapter.
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The moment the Demon lost consciousness, Ghlariknee cried out. At least when he had been awake, Master Chief had been supporting half his own weight. But now, he was little more than a few elephants hanging onto the Elite's shoulder. "Leader! I cannot carry the Demon alone!"


Swiveling his head, Drajha-Lee cursed as he saw the truth to his Sanghelli's words. The red Elite was down to one knee, straining under the sudden burden of the Spartan's unconscious body. But it was hard enough keeping the flood back with the Elites he had fighting now. To lose another in order to carry the Demon was... less than acceptable.


--Renegade Command informed me you required assistance, Drajha-Lee?-- The golden warrior gawked as he heard the voice over the communicator. The battle had been so intense, he had been completely oblivious to the arrival of his Phantom hovering mere yards over their heads. The gravitational beam triggered and for a moment, Drajha-Lee wondered if maybe it had been a malfunction. For nobody had descended. That is, until he caught the faintest glimmer as someone with a cloaking device launched an attack.


The flood didn't know what hit them. At first, the rest of the major Sanghelli were as confused as the flood. But the blue shimmer of a 'floating' energy sword cut away their mystification almost as fast as it slashed through their foes. Combat forms were falling left and right. Arms and deformed heads waved jerkily in their agitation, bewilderment clearly skewered in their moronic features. After a few stretched minutes of the continued slaughter, everyone soon found themselves safely inside the Phantom, heading as fast and as far away from High Charity's surface as they could get.


With a grin, Drajha-Lee slapped the back of the still invisible Sanghelli appraisingly, "Your timing is admirable, Arbiter."


"I do my best, Drajha-Lee." The Arbiter dropped the cloaking, a grin now visible on his face.


"Ah, do not be so modest." The golden one berated, manuevering the cobalt armored Elite over to his men. Most were doubled over, trying to regain much needed breath after the energy consuming battle. Others looked like they might need a quick trip over to the med room. But all perked up when they noticed the Arbiter. For the next few moments, they expressed their gratitude profusely, everyone's words tripping over another's. The Arbiter stood his place though, suffering the jumbled thanks in silence before Drajha-Lee cut in, "Yes, as you can see, Arbiter, we are more than thankful. If you had not come when you did..."


"Of course." The Arbiter's head dipped low in a nod, "I would not hesitate to assist any of my comrades. Though... I do find it strange you and your team were still on High Charity in the first place. What could be so important that you would risk your lives on the ground of that flood-ridden place?"


This is when Ghlariknee spoke up behind a huddle of Sanghelli, his voice strained, "Leader, he still breaths."


Curious, the cobalt Elite cocked his head a bit to the side, giving the golden one an inquisitive look. A huge grin spreading over his features, Drajha-Lee commented, "I do believe you will find this most interesting, Arbiter. You have met with him in previous, albeit brief, encounters."


This only intrigued the Arbiter more. Who, after all, could Drajha-Lee be talking about? One of his brows lifted, "I have?"


Leading the cobalt Elite over to the cluster of Elites, the Leader replied with a knowing grin, "Most assuredly so, Arbiter."


That's when the Arbiter finally caught sight of the person the golden Elite had been speaking of. He stiffened immediately, frozen in place by his own dumbfoundment. "This... this cannot be who... Who I think..."


The red Elites and the golden one grinned at the Arbiter's awestruck state. Few had ever thought much phased the legendary Sanghelli. The majority had believed such a thing impossible. Yet... here he was. Let's just say it took a while before the Arbiter remembered to close his gaping maw, none of the others wishing to end the amusing spectacle before its time. Shaking himself out of his befuddlement, the cobalt armored Elite stated in a clear voice, "So, the Demon managed to survive after all."

----
'Oh.... my head....'


Master Chief slowly came to, trying to sit up. When he felt resistance, whatever part of his mind had been lagging suddenly jolted awake. In his confusion, he tried to speak. But all that came out were bubbles.


'Bubbles? What the hell...?!'


The Spartan's eyes shot open, only to be invaded by the same liquid that filled his nose. His mouth. His... lungs. Out of reflex, Master Chief gagged. He wasn't supposed to be breathing liquid. Air. He needed air!! Through the liquid he saw a room beyond some sort of clear barrier. The panic that rose in his mind didn't allow him time to think. All he knew was just one thing. He had to get out. His flexed his arm and his fist shot upward, for he was apparantly lying on his back. He felt something crack, the vibrations trilling through the liquid. Master Chief gagged again, bringing his fist back and bashing the barrier above him again. Still, it didn't break. Impatient now and in much need for air, the Spartan curled up, drawing his knees up to his chest. Then with a quick release of coiled muscles, Master Chief kicked his way through. Some form of glass shattering around him, the Spartan staggered to his feet, pulling himself out of something that reminded him very much of an ovular pod. One with a clear lid and liquid filling inside.


But he disregarded details as he bent over to hurl whatever alien liquid had invaded his lungs.


Liquid which was now spilling out and over onto... the purple... floor. Eyes narrowing, the dripping Spartan quickly surveyed his surroundings.The walls and the floor had a fleshy-looking purple and pink coloring to it. He had thought maybe it had been the lack of oxygen that was distorting the color. But no, it was really that color. So he must be in either a Covenant or Renegade forces ship. Groaning, Master Chief held his head as it throbbed achingly. He tried hard to remember what the last thing he did was. High Charity. The flood. The Elites. Fighting...


Oh right. They saved his life. Sighing, Master Chief lowered his hand and looked at it. Interestingly enough, his armor was still on. Currently dripping, but still functioning. All that was missing was his helmet. 'Not again.' he groaned inwardly this time. Glancing more meticulously around the room, he noticed more pods like his own arranged in a few rows. A couple were occupied by what looked like unconscious Elites. Some he thought may have been the red Sanghelli who had helped him earlier. Looking at the mess he had made of the one he occupied, Master Chief shrugged, "My bad."


But there was still the matter of his helmet. It wasn't anywhere in the room that the Spartan could see. Feeling much better after the rest and... whatever the liquid pod had been, he made his way easily to the door. It opened as he approached and Master Chief couldn't help the involuntary pause he made, cautious in his new environment. Stepping warily into the empty corridor, Master Chief glanced in both directions before choosing one at random. Eventually he would run into someone. And when he did, he'd want a few answers.

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"What is our plotted course?"


"Currently, we are heading towards one of our bases."


"No orders issued from Renegade Command?"


"Not as of yet, Arbiter. Though I am confident in the fact that you shall be one of the first to know."


The Arbiter nodded, turning back to look out of the main 'window' of the ship's bridge. Drajha-Lee, on the other hand, slumped deeper into his chair. Both were reflecting about the same thing. Or rather, about a certain someone. Throughout the bridge, there was a relatively low hum of idle chatting. Most, if not all, of those working at their stations were so familiar with their equipement that they didn't need all of their attention to get whatever they needed done. So they spent the time talking about things like the war. Or how their families were. Or about the more interesting topic as of late, their recent guest...


The Arbiter broke the silence between them first, "How do you think the Demon fares?"


The golden clad warrior shrugged, "A few more days... and who knows. He shall be well enough to walk around-"


The Sanghelli leader was interrupted as the door to the bridge whooshed open. At first, Drajha-Lee had been about to continue when he did a sudden doubletake. The Arbiter himself was already staring openly. Soon everyone's attention was focused at the door as the din slowly died down. The figure standing there was covered in watery goop, dripping as he took in all of the bridge. Then he noticed the stares of the Elites and shifted into a more alert sort of slump. Ignoring the water dripping from his soaked brown locks, the Demon's hardened blue eyes locked onto Drajha-Lee's.


The first thing that came out of his mouth was, "Where's my helmet?"
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Yeah, so. Uh... the Arbiter is there cuz the mission against that brute leader dude was finished and... uh, gravemind's teleportation thing ran out so he was back on High Charity.