| abstract | - On a Sangheili world, a Kaidon war master is attacked by a lone assassin with a higher purpose. The darkness of the keep flared with light as energy weapons repeatedly clashed, their sizzling humming through the upper chambers. Kaidon Jemsal 'Emvadsonee struck out with his energy sword, barely missing the assassin. Which clan questions me this time? he wondered. Whoever it was, they had seemed ill prepared: a single warrior in the dead of night. Seemed. The assassin was by no means ill prepared. Twin daggers reached for 'Emvadsonee's calves, but a deft twist sent a dagger flying. The assassin corrected their stance, feinting and jabbing again, the kaidon's reaction this time barely ahead of the assault. Were it not for tradition's sake, Jemsal could have called an entire lance of guards into his quarters, but what warrior would respect a kaidon who could not defend his own against one lonely assassin? Another slice of his sword broke through a table, but the assassin dodged and leapt upward. Grabbing a beam, they swung towards 'Emvadsonee, kicking him in the shoulder before striking off the wall and stabbing at him yet again. Dodging, Jemsal latched onto his attacker and threw them to the ground, going for a decapitating blow. But the assassin reacted faster than the warrior, twisting the kaidon and slipping out, leaving the sword to stab into the empty floor. Lashing out with a garrote, 'Emvadsonee found himself caught in a chokehold, only to turn the tables and slam backwards through a wall. The kaidon roused himself, searching for his assailant, and at last he spotted them. The assassin lay, groaning, in the rubbles, their armor scuffed and their helmet missing. As there in the moonlight, Jemsal realized what he was seeing. A little girl? Indeed, his attacker could not be more than a half dozen cycles old, just beginning to mature into an adult. Still, an assassin was an assassin. A kaidon could not falter simply because of an assailant’s age or gender. Raising his blade to strike, 'Emvadsonee swung downward hard, intending to show mercy with a single, painless death blow. But his blade did not find its mark: at the final moment, it was thrown back, blocked by an energy stave. Jemsal turned to this new assailant, but as he prepared to attack the enemy stave twirled, sending the kaidon's blade flying from his hand. 'Emvadsonee moved to recover, charging his opponent, only for them to kick him down and pin him to the ground. This is it, 'Emvadsonee reasoned, So ends my lineage. Breathing out calmly, he waited for a finishing strike. "You have passed, Kaidon 'Emvadsonee," the newcomer said suddenly, lowering their weapon. They backed away from the warrior, reaching down to help the child assassin to her feet. For the first time Jemsal got a look at the warrior: they were tall and lithe, but muscular and well armored also. This was no Sangheili, though at first glance it might appear so. This was something else. "Who... what, are you?" the Kaidon asked. "I am Bero'a Ly'ghee," the warrior replied. "And come dawn, you are in the service of my Cohort, swordsman. I suggest you ready yourself." And then, with a slight smirk from beneath her helm, the warrior and her assassin charge leapt from the kaidon's window, disappearing into the night.
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