((OOC: I sense mass stagnation in where this thread is going, so I'm jump-starting it if you don't mind.  I apologize in advance for the cliche.))<br/><br/>'Vadumee scoffed out loud.  "I ask of you, Humans.  Think!  Understand the threat this Parasite poses to us.  What good will having 'live' samples to manufacture weapons if the war is already lost by the time they can be used?  Your logic is sound, but in light of he current situation, it is suicidal.  Focusing on a single, insignificant satellite is no way to win a war.  Do you bring down a ship by attacking its backup communications equipment?"<br/><br/>'Vishumee agreed full heartedly with his leader.  The Humans were too narrow minded, thinking of the long term, not understanding the implications a Flood infestation posed in the short term.  Why can't they see that immediate action is the only way to stem the infection?  It angered 'Vishumee to see such foolishness in the leaders of a race.<br/><br/>The Sangheili Commander continued where he had left off.  "Every second we use now on deciding what to do cycles from now is a second wasted.  A quick, powerful, and decisive strike is what we need.  Even as I stand here before you, trying to convince you of your mistakes, the Council is dispatching specialized strike teams to all of the infected planets.  I do not know--"<br/><br/>One of the Humans, a female with short, greying hair and a crisp naval uniform, interrupted 'Vadumee.  "You are sending<em>military strike teams</em>to Terran settlements?" it asked increduously, anger and frustration lacing its voice.<br/><br/>'Gugomemee, the same Sangheili who had stepped forward earlier, stepped forward again.  "Do not interrupt the Honorable Commander, or I shall add another notch to my weapon in your verminous name!" he barked angrily, his hand hovering over his holstered plasma pistol.  The Human met his gaze with an angry stare of its own, its hand not from far from its own pistol.<br/><br/>The tension in the room was palpable.  'Vishumee found himself holding his breath, his own hand prepared to grip his rifle shoudl bloodshed ensue.  'Vadumee watched with indifferent eyes, then looked at Lord Hood.  The latter glanced back, then stepped forward and barked "Colonel, stand down!"<br/><br/>In response, 'Vadumee lifted a single hand, making an airy, wave-like gesture with it.  'Gugomemee looked at him, hesitated for a split second, then bowed his head and stepped back.  The Human was less disciplined, holding its position.  Lord Hood frowned, speaking with a firm, steady, but threatening voice.  "Colonel.  Stand down," it said.  "Or I will have you forcibly removed."<br/><br/>The female Human looked uncertain, but let its hand fall and returned to her seat.  "With all due respect, Sir," it said.  "Don't you see a problem with the Elites launching their own strike teams to<em>our</em>worlds, without even telling us?"  Its voice carried a sharp edge to it, almost accusatory, and it spat the word "Elites" as if it was dirt caught in its mouth.<br/><br/>Before its commander could respond, the intelligence spoke.  "Lord Hood, unscheduled Slipspace anomalies on the periphery of our radar range," it spoke with a flat, emotionless voice.  'Vishumee forced down revulsion.  "They're handshakes are Covenant, Sangheili, but are refusing to transmit the proper codes."<br/><br/>Lord Hood looked down at a dark holographic display.  Within a second, it sputtered to life, an irridescent male human appearing.  "Remus, how many, and where're they headed?"<br/><br/>"Four vessels.  One Titan-class Carrier, the<em>Justifiable Wrath</em>, accompanied by three Solara-class frigates, the--"<br/><br/>"We don't need names, Remus, thank you," it said.  Lord Hood looked at 'Vadumee, eyebrow cocked.  'Vishumee believed that expression was one of curious inquisition; a "Hmm..?"  The Sangheili, his race eyebrow-less (devoid of all facial hair, in fact), again was confused by the Humans' reliance on facial expression.  Why not just say it?  Bah, Humans are infuriatingly confusing.<br/><br/>'Vadumee seemed to get the hint though.  "The<em>Justifiable Wrath</em>was part of a strike team inbound to the planet you call 'Bountiful.'  It wasn't scheduled to return to this system at all."  A tense pause.  "I suggest quarantining those ships at once.  Don't let them near this planet.  If they do not stop, destroy them.  I fear they may be tainted by the Infection."  His voice was flat, calm, knowing; its emotion betraying the anxious fear that had just saturated the room with the ships' arrival.  'Vadumee seemed unfazed, treating it as yet another minor inconvenience to take care of.