A small journey finally became fruitful as the Arbiter exitec loak behind Neerg. "How amusing . . . these Human's seem to be quite . . . intelligent." He gestured for two Elite's to cover the wing's of the small formation, as he turned his back on the squad to cover the rear. He raised a carbine and slowly backed in, pushing Neerg with his back.
"Fleet Master, your ship must be ancient to still utilize such . . . delicate system's. After this battle I will ensure you get a ship of decent capacity, immune to such sabotage." He drew a plasma rifle from a nearby body, dual wielding it in procession with the carbine. The Arbiter knew something, or someone, was coming. "No Convenant ship is so vulnerable to sabotage . . . it can't of been the Human . . ." The Arbiter raised his left eyebrow in recognition of a slight blur of vision afront him.
"Heretic's! Weapon's free!" The Sangheili on the wing's released a burst of fire, dropping thee Heretic Grunt's out of cloak and into a pool of blood. "Fleet Master, send a distress signal, the Heretic's have returned!"
Such a strange twist of event's was strange, especially considering the nature of the Heretic's. Alate there was more and more of such beast's but Ripa was adept at hunting out their pathetic kind. He dropped both weapon's and drew out two energy hilt's spinning them and advancing slowly. The Heretic's ceased fire for a moment.
"I am the blade of the Prophet's! I am foremost of the Convenant's reach! I am your doom!" With that he ignited the weapon's, moving forward at astonishing speed. He allowed a loose rage to overcome him, allowing him to fight with immense effort. A few small pulse's across his chest signified that by the end of the battle, his shield's still held strong. He moved over to a nearby corpse and kicked it, causing a Human weapon to slip from it's grasp.
"Human technology . . . ?" He knelt down and raised the weapon to his eye's, scanning the side of it. "Rebel technology." He returned to the squad and thrust the weapon at the Ship Master. "What do you make of this Fleet Master?" He cocked his head quizically and glared at his comrade's quarry, the Human's. His four-jawed maw again twisted into a slight grin, as a few ragged breath's emerged from his four-hinged lip.
Grand Admiral of the Imperial Remnant.
"This one is constantly thinking, analyzing, strategizing. He showed no fear, but was curious, studying me in turn."
"All thoughts are worth listening to, whether later judged to be of value or not."
"I have no qualms about accepting a useful idea merely because it wasn't my own."
"Butů it was so artistically done."
―Thrawn's last words