Lord Hood's hand grasped the larger alien one in a shake. "You have my thanks…for sticking by him until the end." He eyes lowered to his formerly polished black shoes, now covered with dust and grime. "Hard to believe he's dead…" The much taller Elite raised his own eyes to the ship under his command, which was hovering just above the atmosphere. A drop ship had been dispatched and was beginning its descent.
"Were it so easy."
Lord Hood returned to the crashed half of the Forward Unto Dawn, the permanent monument dedicated to each and every man and woman who had died during the fight against the Covenant and the Flood. Pictures of those who had given their very existence to end the war covered the structure, but to him one area in particular stood out. All that was left of the man who had possibly given more then anyone else was a few scratches carved into the wielded steel - number 117 - and his Navy insignia patch. Lord Hood rested his hand against the scratches and involuntarily it hand clutched into a fist. The Chief had survived Hell, not once but multiple times, just to fall short at the end. And Cortana. And Johnson. And Miranda…
No other lives would be taken. But their survival had come at an almost unbearable cost.
The Admiral snapped a sharp salute to the monument and held it as the sun set behind the structure, leaving only a black silhouette in its place.
The Arbiter had returned to the Shadow of Intent where Rtas 'Vadum was waiting. The two exchanged crisp nods. The trip back to their home world would take four months at least, most of which would be spent reflecting on the last several days. Specifically his betrayal to the Prophets, or rather, their betrayal to his species, and how he and the human warrior had fought side by side. The Arbiter clicked his lower mandibles and settled back into the commander's chair.
"Take us home."