Halo_ Ghosts of Onyx - Eric S. Nylund [85]
Xytan appeared no less than a god.
Ship Master Voro stood at attention and watched the legendary commander. He had never been defeated in battle. He had never failed at any task, no matter what the challenge. He was never wrong.
The Imperial Admiral's only flaw was that he had been so revered, some said even more so than any Prophet. For the sin he had been exiled to the fringe worlds of the vast Covenant Empire.
This had happened before; the former Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice had never returned from the "glorious mission" the Prophets sent him on.
Xytan had summoned all the factions of the Sangheili to |oyous
Exultation. He was, in Voro's opinion, their best chance for survival.
Voro was one of thirty representative Ship Masters who had been called from the two hundred vessels in orbit to hear these words.
"I, like all of you, believed in our leaders and their holy Covenant," Xytan continued, his voice resonating off the silver stadium dome overhead. "How could we have been so willing to believe a Covenant of lies!"
Xytan paused and looked out among them. The thirty Ship Masters and their guards seemed to be swallowed by the empty space in the chamber, designed for a capacity crowd of three thousand.
No one dared speak.
"They have called for the destruction of all Sangheili. They have aligned themselves with the barbaric Jiralhanae," Xytan said. He hung his head and his four jaws opened slack for a moment, and then he looked up, a new determination burning in his eyes. "The Great Schism is upon us. The unbreakable Covenant Writ of Union has been split asunder. This is the end of the Ninth, and final, Age."
A grumble echoed within the oration chamber. These words were the grossest sacrilege. Today, however, they could be the truth.
Xytan held up a hand and the dissent quelled.
"You must now decide to surrender to fate—or resist and strive to persist. Myself, I choose to fight." He outstretched both hands to his audience. "I call upon you all to join me. Let the old ways fade and battle by my side. Together we can forge a new, better union—a new Covenant among the stars."
The Sangheili Ship Masters roared their approval.
It was an inspired oration, but the Prophets had used words to trick them all before, too. Ship Master Tano had let words, and their more dangerous by-product, beliefs, cloud his reason.
Words alone would not help them. Voro crossed his arms over his chest.
Amazingly, Xytan saw this gesture and turned to face him, locking gazes.
"You disagree. Ship Master?"
A tomblike silence smothered the stadium. Voro felt all eyes upon him.
"Speak, then, hero of the battle for the Second Ring of the Gods, and de facto commander of the Second Fleet of Homogeneous Clarity." Xytan waved him forward and offered him the center pulpit, an unprecedented and generous step for one so high.
It stunned Voro to hear such honorifics attached to his name. Xytan knew what had happened? Who he was? Of course, his intelligence network was legion. And what better way to silence questions than with compliments?
Voro, however, had not survived treachery and war and the sundering of an Age to be silenced now. He willed himself to step forward. The urge to supplicate before Xytan was overwhelming, but he resisted.
It took all of Voro's strength to cross that distance with all watching.
He stepped upon the center stage and his image appeared holographically magnified, a titan towering over the crowd.
"I agree with what you say," Voro declared. "We must destroy the Jiralhanae, unquestioningly, and all who ally with them. But victory may mean nothing if the disease upon the holy ring escapes. It must be cleansed from the galaxy if we are to survive."
A murmur of assent passed through his fellows.
Xytan nodded as well, and then made a slight gesture with his hand, indicating Voro step down.
He gave a short bow to the Imperial Admiral and withdrew. Voro