Ain't Got Time Pfhor This

The Prophet of Truth was irritated.

It had become the norm over the last month or so. He was irritated that Alpha Halo had been destroyed. He was irritated at all the pessimists within the Covenant, declaring that the Great Journey had ended, that they would never achieve salvation as a result. He was irritated with Thel 'Vadamee and the sangheili's trial. He was irritated by...well, by everything. And while part of him appreciated the offer of these...pfhor to help the Covenant in its hour of need, he was irritated by them nonetheless. Maybe it was because it was hard to lock in his two eyes with their three, maybe it was because their humanoid appearance was...well, humanoid, maybe it was because their offer reeked of something out of conceptual nightmare. Either way, the san 'shyuum had little patience.

"Greetings, great Prophet..." one of the aliens said, speaking in its irritating insect-like language that Truth's translator could barely keep up with. "It is an honour to meet you, the one who directs his empire with the lightning and passion of Sfiera herself."

"...who?"

"Sfiera..." the pfhor said awkwardly, its beady eyes...well, doing something, but it was hard to find a word for it. "Goddess of..."

"Excellent. Please continue."

It was a shame really-the pfhor were similar to the Covenant in so many respects. Employed client races, utilized ancient technology, had even been on the receiving end of a "demon" recently. Yet there were also differences, namely that their technology, if it was Forerunner, wasn't revered, their client races were bona fide slaves and unless the demon on Alpha Halo could be in two places at once, it seemed that they'd been felled by a different human altogether. Just accepting their aid would cause all sorts of technicalities to be hammered out in the Ministry of Conversion, let alone how these pfhor would fit into the pecking order. And besides, with their former s'pht slaves hounding them left, right and centre...well, fighting against humanity on one front was bad enough.

Well, maybe I should hear them out. They mentioned something about new weapons...and goodness knows anything's better than running around with shock staffs.

"First, we have our special purpose snipers," declared one of the pfhor proudly, depicting an image of some quickly drawn concept art. "Derived from our Enforcer Clan..."

"Yes, your Enforcers..." said Truth tactfully. "The same Enforcers that only fire on other pfhor? The same Enforcers that opened fire on your demon, giving him the first hints to his true nature? The same Enforcers who, by doing so, gave him the psychological mindset to re-seal an entire star entity?"

"...I think that's overanalysing a bit."

"Trust me, Durandal says otherwise."

A bit of heresy on Truth's part, communicating with a rogue AI that had helped the pfhor's "demon." Still, after shielding an entire civilization from the truth discovered at Harvest, Truth figured he could afford to bend the rules a little more. And if that meant communicating with rogue AIs that had defeated an entire pfhor battle fleet by themselves (come to think of it, didn't the Master Chief's AI do the same thing? Strange coincidence...), so be it.

"Anyway, our kig-yar are perfectly good snipers and don't have the same protocols your enforcers do," the Prophet stated. "So unless you have anything else to offer the Covenant..."

"We do! Oh great lord we do!"

"...then show me."

It was funny, really, how the anxiety of insects was so similar to the anxieties of...well, everything else bar a huragok and Truth had no idea as to what type of animal family they could be said to belong to. Clearly of a higher order than the pfhor at least, whose next display was something called the "alien trooper." A trooper whose gun was attached to...

"Its stomach," the san 'shyuum exclaimed blankly. "It's walking with a gun...attached...to its stomach."

"Um, yes?" the pfhor asked hesitantly, tilting its three-eyed head sideways like a pet unggoy. "What of it? You employ similar weaponry, no?"

"Our mgalekgolo do. On their arms. Not on their stomachs."

"Are yes, your Hunters. You know, we had a Hunter Clan as well..."

"Fascinating," Truth lied. "Fascinating in that you think firing plasma from one's stomach is better than firing from a hand or even one of your Hunter Clan's shoulders. Tell me again...how many ships did you send against Durandal?"

"...I'd rather not say."

"I bet you wouldn't."

Truth had had enough. At best, these pfhor reminded him of the Covenant's own failures, how a single demon and AI had made them all look like...well, like pfhor. Like pfhor at their worst-nincompoops who thought they could worm their way into the Covenant with these ridiculous ideas. If this went on, the Covenant would have the equivalent of the s'pht's rebellion. Some sects of the Covenant yakked on about the cycle of time, but that was one cycle Truth was certain wouldn't be repeated.

Yes...none of the pfhor's mistakes would be repeated. Of course not.

A/N

I can hardly call it unique insight on my part in regards to noticing the similarities the "alien troopers" and "special purpose snipers" cut from Halo 2 have towards the pfhor, specifically the Hunters and Enforcers. Still, it provided the inspiration for this nonetheless. And, you know, every other similarity that exists between the two series. ;)

And yes, the title is taken from one of the levels of Marathon. Sue me.