HALO: Evocatus

Chapter 3

For the next couple days, the Covenant forces basically lived out of the UNSC base. After scouring the facility for hidden explosives, listening devices, or tucked-away Humans, Tharn had ordered the erection of numerous transmitters, receivers, external fortifications, and an entire tent city outside of the base. Most of the Sangheili and Unggoy elected to live outside, refusing to sleep in a creation made by heretics. The Kig-yar, by Kusan's observation, couldn't care less about the tainted structure, and were all too happy to thoroughly pillage the Humans' food supply.

Kusan himself didn't really see what was so wrong about sleeping inside the base. Sure, it was made by Humans, but it had four walls and a sturdy roof, and would certainly protect much better against, say, a UNSC counter-bombing than one of the rounded Sangheili tents growing like mushrooms in the charred valley outside.

Either way though, it hardly mattered, because the base was declared an off-limits-at-night zone by the Commander, until the entire thing had been thoroughly searched and it was proved no hidden tunnels for Humans with knives to creep through existed. Right now, Tharn and Sesu, as well as several lesser Covenant and a couple Yanme'e engineers, were busy extracting information from the base's command center, and were adamant about having no interruptions.

Kusan was entirely fine with that delegation, as the Human base was way too cramped and the Sangheili swore he had seen rats scuttling the floors. He had argued to set up his tent with N'theze just off the bottom of the concrete ramp, so they would be easily able to run back up to the entrance in the event of a bombing. Kusan thought it was very good planning ahead. N'theze thought he was being paranoid and preferred to sleep on a patch of unburnt grass. After a brief debate, they had resolved to sleep at the bottom of a cozy, relatively sheltered crater, until Kusan found a severed arm buried under his bedroll on the second night and shrieked loud enough to wake half the camp. At that point, N'theze won the argument and they moved far from the site of the previous skirmish.

Now, Kusan sat with his legs dangling off one of the base's many concrete balconies, abreast a softly-humming transmitter. He held a datapad, into which he dictated a letter for Faie back at High Charity.

"...I killed a few Humans. Honestly, I don't know how to feel about it. There was this one that was about to kill our file's commander, and I shot it dead. I should be prideful, right? I mean, I absolutely saved him. But still–the eyes on that thing. They look almost Sangheili." He sighed. "I'm trying not to think about it. I'm a warrior, they're heretics. And, I admit, I got a little rush when I killed that last one. Like in the simulators, scoring a point." He chuckled dryly. "I guess, the simulations are made to condition you, right?"

"N'theze was proud for me, at least. He and I started a game, of who could get the most kills: he figured that would help me be less..." Less what? Guilty? Squeamish? Resistant to killing sapient beings?

"...less hesitant," he settled on.

"And then," he continued, "during the battle, after I saved the Commander, there was this whole thing about getting the door open, and this Grunt just walks through the battlefield and sticks a bomb onto the lock." A smile tugged on Kusan's mandibles.

"It was absolutely absurd. So, this Grunt is a demolitions expert, apparently. He told me how to make this sticky thermal gel that heats up crazy quick when electrified: that's how he got through the door. Klaflam is his name, I think. He and N'theze have actually gotten along really well, the two of them stole some contraband infusions from the Jackals the other night, and our entire file got pretty drunk. I didn't join in, I was duelling the Commander again. I think he's taken a bit of a liking to me, even though I've never beaten him." Kusan shrugged, even though he knew Faie wouldn't be able to see it.