<[i]Three days after the funeral procession[/i]> "So you're definitely leaving, Didact?" Fleet Admiral Graham Daniels asked the Forerunner, who looked odd dressed in regular clothes. Once again Graham was struck by how... human the alien was. Aside from a few small differences, they were exactly alike. "I am," the Didact replied, checking to make sure that all the supplies he'd need were stocked in the small Forerunner ship he'd assembled from the ruined Dreadnought over the past few weeks. It was nowhere near as big as the ship it had spawned from; merely twice the size of a human Longsword, but it possessed slipspace capabilities and would do him well. "There are Forerunner installations out there which may house others of my kind. Whilst the possibility remains, I cannot ignore it." "But... we need you!" Graham protested, not wanting to see the man who had helped them all so much leave. The Didact turned to face him, a strange glint in his eye. He hopped down from the ramp of his small ship, and put two weary hands on the human's shoulders, looking down at him with a soft smile. "No, you don't. When I first encountered your kind, I thought I would have to teach you some of your lost ways and methods. But I see now that you cope far better than we did, despite our advanced capabilities." "On behalf of the human race I'm flattered, Didact, but--" Suddenly, there was a rustling in the bushes. Graham turned, in time to see a small team of four leap out from behind a building, rifles raised. "On the ground!" one of them barked, and Graham saw the silver insignia of the Office of Naval Intelligence emblazoned upon her combat armour. "Stand down!" Graham shouted at them, drawing himself to full height. "On the ground!" the female ONI operative repeated, firing a deafening warning shot in the air. Graham's hand reached for his sidearm. "I am Fleet Admiral Graham Daniels of the UNSC and I am ordering you to stand down!" he reinforced, taking a step forward. Several of the ONI operatives stepped back nervously, but their leader stood her ground. "This is a direct priority order from Section III, Fleet Admiral. We are to take the Forerunner into custody, and hand him over to ONI. So I will say once more: on the ground... sir!" Graham looked at the Didact, who nodded slowly. Scowling, Graham put his arms behind his back and sank down to his knees, and the Didact reluctantly did likewise. Immediately the ONI operatives rushed forward and restrained them. "This is treason," Graham warned them. The ONI operative laughed. "No, sir. This is the preservation of humanity. That Forerunner knows much which could help humanity get the upper hand." "Upper hand? We're no longer at war, dammit! You're all no better than Eden." "He made mistakes, but his goal was a pure one--" The voice was suddenly cut off as the head of the female ONI officer was torn away from her neck, carried along some metres by the trailing hiss of a sniper rifle bullet. The decapitated corpse sank to its knees and fell on its front to the ground. The other three ONI operatives yelped in surprise, and attempted to move into cover. One of them tried to run away, and immediately knocked into a 7 foot tall Spartan who had just appeared. The Spartan seized the operative by the neck, and threw him to the ground. The two remaining ONI operatives stepped out of cover and opened fire with their rifles, but the bullets simply bounced off the shimmering shields of the advancing juggernaut. The Spartan drew out an assault rifle and let loose a volley of fire. The rounds tore through the light armour of one of the ONI operatives, and he fell to the ground with a blood filled scream. The remaining survivor threw down his weapon, and attempted to make a run for it. But Graham had moved into action, and roughly grabbed the operative, before levelling a pistol at his head. "Don't try anything," Graham growled in his ear as he moved the operative into a tighter grip. The Didact had stood up, and smiled as he approached their Spartan saviour. "Thanks for the help, Tom," he greeted warmly. Tom removed his helmet, and nodded. "Lucy picked up on an ONI encrypted message. They intend to take you, Didact. That was just a preliminary team." "Bastards!" Graham swore, knocking the ONI operative over the head with his pistol. He sank to the ground. He started as he heard movement behind him, and relief flooded through him when he saw another Spartan, Lucy, walk towards them, concern etched on her face. "Then I'd better leave right now," the Didact replied, hopping back onto his ship. "Wait!" Tom cried, running forwards. "Lucy and I are going with you, Didact." There was silence, and then the Didact finally replied with: "What?" "We're the last Spartan IIIs, sir. Officially we don't even exist. There's nothing for us here," Tom replied, moving to the ramp of the small Forerunner ship with Lucy, who nodded. "So you want to come with me as I search for other Forerunners?" the Didact asked, a smile playing about his face. "Affirmative, sir," Tom answered, nodding curtly. "It's safer, and I think you would appreciate the company." "That I would," the Didact chuckled. "I see you won't back down from this, and time grows short. Welcome aboard, Spartans." Tom grinned, and then as if realising something turned to face Graham, face troubled. "What if ONI find you, sir? You have evidence of their treachery; they won't hesitate to kill you." "That's not going to happen," a voice spoke, disengaging active camouflage and stepping out from the shadows. Several other Sangheili did likewise. "How long have you been here?" Graham demanded of R'tas Vadum', who watched him with a hard glint in his eye. "A while," R'tas answered ambiguously. "One of my scouts noticed men converging on your location. We were on our way to bid the Didact farewell anyway, and so decided to assist. But then the Spartans arrived, and we decided it would be interesting to see how they dealt with the threat. You were in no danger, I assure you. Our weapons were levelled constantly at the... ONI operatives." "Even so, it would have been nice if you'd assisted," Graham answered in a surly tone. R'tas laughed, clapping him so hard on the back that all the air was nearly pushed out of his lungs. "And where would the fun be in that? Come, we must make haste. What the Spartan says is true; there are many more teams on their way. It would seem your intelligence agency has gone rogue, Fleet Admiral." Graham grunted, nodding. "I'll present my case before HIGHCOM. The Office of Naval Intelligence is out of control; it needs taking down." "That will not be an easy task," R'tas cautioned, signalling for his Elites to take captive the struggling operative Graham held in his arms. "My life hasn't been easy for a long time, Imperial Admiral," Graham joked. R'tas suddenly pressed a lone finger to his ear, and his eyes grew distant for a moment. Then he looked back the Graham. "They are almost upon us. We have with us several active camouflage systems, Fleet Admiral. Take one," R'tas informed the group, passing Graham an alien-looking pulsating harness which was subsequently affixed to him by a helpful Elite. "Farewell, holy one. Thank you for all your help. I hope that you find more of your kin," R'tas said to the Didact, striding forward and outstretching his arm. [i]Elites? Offering handshakes? My goodness; things[/i] have [i]changed.[/i] The Didact grabbed it firmly, and shook, smiling at R'tas and the rest of the Elites. "I hope so too, R'tas. Perhaps this is not goodbye forever. One day I may return, and hopefully with an entire civilisation behind me." "That would be wonderful," R'tas breathed, eyes glazing over as he contemplated such a scenario. "For the last time R'tas, we're not gods!" the Didact chided with a laugh. "So you say, holy one. So you say." "Oh, you're all hopeless. Stay safe, R'tas. You are a strong leader." The Didact then turned to face Graham, a soft smile on his face. Graham rolled his eyes. "If you're expecting a long, teary goodbye, then you've got another thing--" he broke off as the Didact pulled him into a strong embrace, like a father would to a child. "You're an example of everything good about your species. Do not let your position of power change you, child. Farewell," the Forerunner whispered in his ear, before drawing back from Graham and jumping on board the ship. Tom and Lucy stood behind him, and saluted raptly as the ramp slid shut. Graham stepped back as the Forerunner ship began to fire up it's engines, billowing leaves and twigs across the ground. It began to rise-- And vanished in a wink of gleaming light. "Their mastery of technology is remarkable. Did he truly power up his slipspace drive in such a short amount of time?" R'tas asked with wonder, staring at the empty space. "It would seem so. And one day we'll reach that level... on our own," Graham vowed, before remembering the treacherous ONI strike teams inbound. "We should go." "Indeed. Let us get this prisoner before your HIGHCOM, so this heresy will not go unpunished." They activated the camouflage systems, and stole away. * * * * * * * * * *