Editor’s note: This short story takes place in a fractured canon that is unlikely to be revisited in the future. In this fracture, the Master Chief died by the hands of Chieftain Cathegus on the Ark and the Prophet of Truth successfully activated the Halo Array in December 2552. The story that follows is about a survivor.
Infinity-class supercarrier Code of Silence
Lagrange Point 4, Earth, Sol System
February 3rd, 2553
I have killed him. Avitus, the Thrallslayer; the gluttonous bloodthirsty warmonger. To whom I had lost my home, my pack, and my sovereignty. And then, standing defiant at the feet of a giant among giants gesturing threats and obscenities to the sky, I took everything from him.
Avitus is dead, uncle. And with his pack I will see that our people are avenged. Our ploy set in motion in your presence on Warial those cycles ago must come to pass. I will see the false prophet Truth and his dog Cathegus executed for their crimes against the jiralhanae. But first I must reach the Ark. And to do that I must find the portal on the human home world.
You will remember the day High Charity fell to the Flood and the coward Avitus fled the holy city for Warial. We received him baring our fangs on the field of battle where the jiralhanae clans had descended into chaos and infighting as they had countless times before. In the days that followed we lost many warriors and many homes to Avitus’ blood lust. We fought until the day the false prophet Truth began the so-called Great Journey, set the stars ablaze, and doomed us all to oblivion.
A storm roiled overhead on the field of battle. The sky flashed red with arcing blood-stained teeth. All at once the fighting stopped as every combatant felt the static of the air seize them by their spines. And then they fell.
Many on Warial died that day, save for a handful of jiralhanae warriors, yourself included. Many of them are here with me now. Avitus as well. Damn him.
We spent the next few cycles gathering the survivors and burying the dead. We conjured theories of weak jiralhanae being judged by angered gods until the clarity of Truth's sermon blew in on the cosmic winds.
"My faithful, stand firm!” proclaimed the old worm. "As our Chieftain Cathegus has slain the human demon, we tread the blessed path. In a moment, I will light the rings! And all who believe shall be saved!
"So far are we along the path. Know this, my brothers: our enemies may foul the way with their charred and broken bones, but they will not stop the Journey.”
Our brothers had been burned by Halo. The Great Journey was a lie. The Covenant was a lie. The Prophets had betrayed us. And I will see them pay.
Upon that hill of Warial where the survivors gathered three local cycles after the Great Purification, talk of revenge festered. Cathegus, now crowned chief dog of the Covenant by the Prophet of Truth, occupied the minds of the survivors.
Discontent grew naturally from the fervor. Avitus seized the opportunity with haste in order to unite the clans.
"Let us march on the human home world, transit the portal to the Ark and hang the dog by the serpent neck of his master!"
I roared in agreement. We all did. Although in hindsight I recall the reservations you wore on your face, uncle. You saw through Avitus’ that day in a way that I did not. That is why you did not follow us, isn’t it?
As it were, behind Avitus I rallied. Our goals aligned and I trusted him to see them through. Within Avitus, for all his faults, burned the fire required to seek the human portal to the Ark. And so I followed him into human space. That is where an unforeseen opportunity divided us from our Chieftain.
When we entered the human colony system we stumbled upon where only dead ships dwell. It would seem the Halo decimated the humans from the system and left few survivors.
A single human freighter was moving between and scavenging from the dead vessels. The ship succumbed to boarding action without incident. And from its small crew we raided the most valuable cargo it carried: the precise coordinates to an experimental human warship unlike any other. They call it the UNSC Infinity.
Bigger than anything prior built by the humans and reinforced with Forerunner technology, this great ship is indeed an unquestionably formidable space-faring fortress. The rebel humans carrying this information boldly planned to steal the warship for themselves. Avitus was inspired. And I cannot claim there was not merit to the idea.
Our pack assumed the human plot to steal the warship from where it was hiding at the edges of the human home system. Then we would raid their home world and take the warship through the portal to the Ark where we might unleash its might upon our enemies.
We left for the human home system with our prisoners aboard the freighter beckoned forth before our own warship like a lure. The infinity received the human vessel unaware of our Raider’s hiding in her belly and the cavalry of our own ship lying in wait.
As we expected, the crew of the Infinity also suffered loss to the Halo event. It did not take very much effort to occupy the supercarrier’s bridge. And once there, we gathered the human commanding crew to bear witness as Avitus personally ripped their Captain apart.
“The ship is ours!” Roared our Chieftain toward the crowd of his pack, each of us taunting the human crew with the blades of our weapons.
However, the raid was not without some surprise. As it turns out the warship was a Demon hive; where Spartans are made. The damned creatures burst into the bridge through its cursed glass viewports. We had lost a few jiralhanae and many humans when the winds carried them out into space. All the better to enrage those of us who remained when the heavy metal emergency shutters locked the Spartans on the bridge with us.
There were two of them. One of them in gold and the other the color of gunmetal with a beak-shaped helmet. And although they fought valiantly, the golden demon was dispatched when the blade of my Lobber removed its head while the gunmetal demon retreated.
We learned soon later that the fleeing Spartan gathered what they could of the surviving human crew onto the freighter we came in on and ran for Earth. But it matters not as we have won our prize.
Or so I thought.
On that very bridge, cycles later while en route to the human home world, Avitus revealed to me in a moment of avarice that he might not follow through with our plan. That, "the Infinity is too fine a prize to risk for revenge." That, “it better to fortify."
This was unacceptable. I could not abide. Our dead brothers must be avenged with or without Avitus. And this ship would guarantee victory. I aired my discontent to the Chieftain; sequestered my rage and impatience in favor of Avitus’ lust for blood. But to no avail.
The Chieftain demanded refrain while revenge was within our grasp. Further still, he ordered me return to Warial to courier Doda'keyt stimulants for his new roaming kingdom. The shameless gall.
"Malithus," the old Chieftain snarled, "do not test my patience. We must secure our place in the galaxy for all jirahlanae."
"You only seek your own security!" I barked in contempt. "No jirahlanae will bow to you."
"And who will they bow to, welp? You?" Avitus huffed a low chuckle. "Return to your post." He said, declaring the end of the conversation by stamping the deck plate with the pommel of his hammer.
And that is when I challenged him.
“Avitus, I will christen this ship with your blood. Then I will take it for myself and see our enemies slain.”
“Let us see if your fight is as strong as your words, Malithus,” the Thrallslayer growled before lunging toward me.
The head of his hammer made contact with my jaw. If I had not made an effort to dodge the incoming blow it would have removed my head from my shoulders. Instead, my face warmed with blood and my jaw hung slack. I drew deep for the strength to reset my jaw and fight on.
Avitus swung his hammer again, laterally this time, but wildly. I caught the momentum of the killing blow by grasping the neck of the weapon with both hands.
We wrestled for the hammer, trading shoulders and elbows with brute strength. Then, I wrenched the hammer from Avitus’ hands. In a fluid motion I turned it about on its master and activated its gravitational energy drive to push the beast out of arm’s reach. Then, carrying the hammer’s momentum I swung it around to drive the sharpened pommel into Avitus' chest. The chieftain fell to his knees and blood poured from his mouth. I removed the pommel from the gaping wound and, without hesitation, swung the hammer upon the head of the warmonger, smashing into his chest cavity with a spattering if blood and grey matter.
There was a moment of pause before the other jiralhanae on the bridge roared in acceptance of our most ancient tradition. I had slain Chieftain Avitus. Donning his battle armor and wielding his hammer, I had laid claim of his position and pack.
🌌
That was several cycles ago.
Upon reaching the human home world we found it more populated than anticipated. However, what was left of their space-faring presence was conquered by our superior firepower. The number of ships in my command has grown into a substantial flotilla that assumes the name of our new flagship. We call it the Code of Silence to honor the humans, and Avitus, who failed to keep it.
As I transmit to you, we remain in orbit around the human world. Planet-side raiders have located the portal to the Ark, but have been unable to reveal its secrets. It is only a matter of time. Until then we, the mighty jiralhanae, occupy this world with great force.
Alongside this message of victory, I am sending you plenty of food, supplies, and human laborers for rebuilding Warial. I ask in turn that you inspire any warriors you can spare to join our cause.
Unlike Avitus, I will see this through.
Your nephew, Chieftain Malithus.
Image generated by Microsoft Copilot (2024).