With the growing tensions between the Khan Compact and the Covenant, expeditions to locate Forerunner sites increase dramatically. Covenant fleets push deep into unexplored regions, driven by the hope of discovering the sacred rings.
It is through these expeditions that first contact with humanity is made—at the Outer Colonies.
The zealots aboard the Covenant ships do not issue the traditional offer of joining the Covenant. Instead, they immediately declare humanity a pest species to be exterminated. The leading Fleetmaster, hungry for honour, strikes first and without mercy.
The meagre orbital station that attempts to establish contact is destroyed in moments. The fleet then moves into orbit and begins glassing the planet's surface.
Three Paris-class frigates emerge from the shadow of the moon and retaliate with MAC fire. One Covenant frigate is struck—its shields collapse, and the pinch fusion reactor is damaged. But the human counterattack is short-lived. Plasma torpedoes punch through defensive fire, and evasive manoeuvres fail. All three Paris-class ships are breached, while Covenant Seraphs hunt down any escaping pods.
The Fleetmaster captures human survivors—men, women, and children alike—forcing them into Phantoms and transporting them to orbit. The Sangheili aboard boast of their great victory.
Not all share in the celebration.
The Kig-Yar across the fleet quietly transmit reports of the atrocity to their matriarchs. Word spreads.
When the Fleetmaster arrives at High Charity, boasting of his triumph and parading the captured humans before the Prophets, the event becomes a grand spectacle.
Then the clanking begins.
Through the sacred halls of the Prophets' temple to the Forerunners, chaos erupts.
Khan has seized the Forerunner Dreadnought.
By replicating the DNA markers discovered within humanity—and with the assistance of the Huragok—Khan gains administrative control over the ancient vessel. Simultaneously, Kig-Yar resistance cells long funded by him ignite open rebellion throughout High Charity. Their matriarchs, having reached consensus, move to remove the San'Shyuum from power now that the Dreadnought's authority is no longer theirs.
Smaller Sangheili clans join as well, forming a unified underground network. At its centre stands Khan—an unseen architect of rebellion.
With their aid, he brings the Dreadnought's antimatter reactors fully online and begins the systematic purge of Jiralhanae-controlled sectors of High Charity. Armed Kig-Yar and Mgalekgolo sweep through defences, their heavy footsteps echoing like thunder through the city's superstructure.
The Prophets suddenly have concerns far greater than the fate of captured humans.
It is already too late.
Khan sallies forth from High Charity, leaving the holy city adrift in the void. Any ship that attempts to bar his path is annihilated before he vanishes into slipspace.
Admiral Lord Terrence Hood — POV
Alarms blare as I'm rushed into the central command of Humanity's Home Fleet.
"Ensign, what's coming through?" I demand, staring into the void as new squadrons of Longswords and Broadswords launch from nearby hangars.
"Sir, we're detecting massive slipspace ruptures. Largest mass reads over six trillion tonnes. The rest are obscured by the slipspace wake," the ensign reports.
I inhale sharply.
"All commands, this is Admiral Terrence Hood," I broadcast over fleet comms. "We are not to engage immediately. This may be first contact. However, I want full readiness. If they turn hostile, all nuclear-capable MAC platforms will fire in coordinated salvos, synchronised with the ODPs."
I pause, then continue.
"We are the defenders of humanity. Through hell or high water—make it count."
The void tears open.
A colossal pyramid-shaped vessel emerges, followed by several thousand warships. Cairo Station's AI immediately flags the lead ship as antimatter-powered.
That makes this very bad—even if we win.
This would be an apocalyptic battle.
"Greetings, humans. I apologise for the alarm, but we had to make haste. There is dire news."
The voice sounds as though it comes from inside my own head.
I snap upright as a towering figure appears—undeniably alien. Unlike anything we've catalogued, even compared to Forerunner relics. Cairo's AI, Horus, establishes a secure link automatically.
"And greetings to you," I reply, forcing calm into my voice. "I'm afraid I don't know what to call you. If I may ask—what brings you here in such haste?"
The alien sits upon a throne-like structure integrated directly into his form.
"I represent a splinter faction of a major empire," he says. "A rebellion, sparked not by your actions, but by those of our so-called leaders. They forced membership upon countless species. Yet for humanity, they chose annihilation instead."
My blood runs cold.
"This decision was the breaking point," he continues. "We witnessed its consequences at one of your newly colonised worlds."
He pauses before adding, "I am the leader of what you will come to know as the Khan Compact. I serve as its nominal head. You may call me Khan."
Another pause.
"I am Sangheili."
I sigh inwardly.
I can already imagine the ONI meetings this is going to spawn.