* * * They sat once more in the war room, tension higher than it had ever been. Zharn felt like throttling each and every one of the pretentious, obnoxious shipmasters before him. "Well, that went well," one of them began, and he was met with murmuring agreement from his fellows. Zharn gripped the edge of the table even tighter, turning his fingers as pale as the sunlight being thrown in the room by the system's distant star. "It was... fortuitous you were able to support my ship so swiftly," he began. "Arriving just before my shields collapsed. Why, a conspiratorial mind might even suggest such an occurrence had been planned." As one fourteen pairs of eyes shifted guilty, all but confirming their guilt. "Surely you are not accusing [i]us[/i] of any foul play?" the [i]Deluge of Diffidence[/i] shipmaster asked Zharn with narrowed eyes. Zharn merely laid out his hands wide, shrugging. "I am merely stating the facts as they could be perceived. Take it as you will," he told them sharply, forcing himself to refrain from bursting out with expletives. "Do you know what would be a truly strange thing, though?" They all looked amongst it each. "What?" the shipmaster of the [i]Parade of Asperity[/i] demanded shrewdly. Zharn shrugged, looking around as if he were trying to think of some tale. "Imagine if someone suspected their life was being threatened by a group of distasteful people," he told them. "Hypothetically, that person in danger might take the liberty of setting it up so that his assets would be sold should he die in any circumstances that seemed suspicious." Their eyes narrowed. Zharn felt a small smile tug at his jaw. He continued speaking. "Such a person might have it so finances gained through such a move would be used to take contracts out on the lives of every member belonging to the group of distasteful people." As one, the fourteen faces of the shipmasters fell so their once-beaming grins had been mirrored into horrified grimaces. "You haven't--" one of them began in a strangled voice, a shade or two lighter than he had been moments before. Zharn frowned at them theatrically. "[i]I[/i] haven't done anything. Why would I need to, with such a wonderful and loyal group of subordinates beneath me? I am merely speaking in hypotheticals, of course. If I were threatened in such a way of course, then the plan I outlined before would of course be the only plan of action I could take. Wouldn't you do the same?" "Fleetmaster, we didn't mean--" one of them protested with despair, cut off by Zharn's hand. "Of course you would. It'd be petty, but it would be nice to know that should anything happen to you those responsible would eventually pay, wouldn't it?" "Perhaps we have given you the wrong message, Thierr'ee--" another shipmaster stuttered out, his voice an octave higher than usual. Zharn shook his head. "I would love [i]nothing[/i] more than to discuss hypotheticals all day with you, noble shipmasters, but I must go and co-ordinate the ground assault upon Baron VII now. Perhaps you could remember my tale the next time you think of something clever to do." And with that, Zharn left his seat, smiled widely at their stunned, ashen faces before neatly spinning and walking out the room with a confident stride. [i]That felt good.[/i] * * * [i]He may be a heretic, but Restraint certainly knows how to live,[/i] Ahkrin admired once more as he stared through an optical magnifier at the High Councillor's minor, perched as he was atop the spire of light. He'd set up a sniper rifle next to him in case an opportune moment presented itself, but so far he had been up on top of the spire for hours and had seen but one glimpse of Restraint, a quick flash behind a very heavily shielded small window. The Unggoy servant who was also in on the heresy, Jajab, had been spotted by Ahkrin many times shuffling around the grounds. But although too a target, he was not worth the shot that would alert the guard to an assassin's presence. No, he could be dealt with once the life had left Restraint's body. The patrols of the honour guard were rather thorough, he admired. They certainly took their job seriously, not merely standing around stoically like most of the guard did. Rain was smoothly diverted away from them as if magnetically repulsed, informing Ahkrin that they were all equipped with personal shielding systems. Shrouding the manor too was a blanketing energy shield, allowing the rain to pass through but repulsing any objects swept into it by the wind; dead leaves and blossom from the trees of High Charity were incinerated as they brushed into its shimmering surface. No doubt they would do something similar to Ahkrin should he try to pass through it he doubted he'd be incinerated, but certainly would emerge on the other side considerably more toasty than he was now. [i]This Ossoona's device had better work when I need it,[/i] he thought, staring down at the small, button-like object clipped to his belt. He did not trust Pel, or any of the hierarchs. They seemed far too eager to put Restraint in the ground, and Ahkrin suspected personal motives as well as a wish to put heresy to rest. He knew Restraint had been challenging the hierarchs in matters of state recently, which no doubt offended them. But Restraint was most certainly a heretic. Ahkrin had analysed the recordings and files after the hierarchs had left him alone with them, and had found no signs of tampering or forgery, and if anyone could detect such interferences, it would be him. [i]No doubt he will try to spin me a fanciful yarn before I kill him,[/i] Ahkrin thought to himself, once more moving the optical magnifier over Restraint's manor. [i]I have fallen for such tricks before, and nearly paid with my life. This time, any words that come out of his mouth will soon be cut short.[/i] Perhaps when Ahkrin had status once more, he would retire from all this. He had been fighting all of his life, and had grown tired of the blade which even now seemed wet with the blood that would soon coat it. His family's lands restored, he could build property upon them once more. Between his years as an assassin and stealth Sangheili in the Covenant, he had amassed a considerable pile of money which sat in account. He'd never thought to use much of it, as with his house in disgrace he was forbidden from buying land and other such commodities Sangheili usually purchased. Yet that would soon change. He could have a home, a mate... perhaps even children, one day. [i]Oh gods, I've gone soft. If Zharn could see me now,[/i] Ahkrin thought, chuckling to himself wryly before that humour died in his throat. [i]He would not want to see me, he made that much clear the last time we spoke.[/i] Maybe when this was all done, Ahkrin could reconcile with his brother. Having status and honour worth mentioning for the first time in his life would doubtless mean something to the other Sangheili... Ahkrin might genuinely finally receive the respect he'd always suspected Zharn feigned. It would be nice to tell people his name without them looking down their nose at him. If all worked well he could even one day have subordinates of his own-- [i]There![/i] Ahkrin's forever-alert subconscious shouted at him as his eyes picked out a weakness in the patrol route of the honour guards. A blind spot left unseen for six seconds. With speed, luck and active camouflage, he could perhaps bound across it and reach the interior of the High Councillor's residence. Recording the blind spot for reference when he would reach the foot of the manor, Ahkrin drew back from the edge of the spire and packed his tools away, before standing up and beginning the long descent back down. When he reached the bottom, he opened up a channel to Ossoona Pel, who was to be his contact for the mission. "I've found a way in, you can deactivate the spire," he told the other Sangheili sharply, stepping off the hard-light onto solid ground once more. He approached the gate where the two guards stood slowly, throwing his heavy coat back on. "[i]Excellent,[/i]" the Ossoona praised him, like a father would to a child who had scored highly in an exam at an academy. [i]"We will continue to monitor your situation, Ahkrin. Forerunners guide you."[/i] The channel shut down just as Ahkrin reached the gate. A few seconds later, so did the spire. The light spluttered once, then twice, and finally sunk back into the projector embedded into the ground. Darkness returned as the soft blue permeating the air retreated with the now-gone spire, leaving the area shrouded in black once more. "You took a while," one of the guards at the gate noticed as Ahkrin passed through. "Any trouble up there?" "I don't want to bore you with tech," Ahkrin answered wearily. "If only the hierocracy would give me a Huragok to work with." "They're in short supply, what with the war and all," the other guard sympathised. "I doubt it will be too long before we're replaced with Jiralhanae and shipped out to battle ourselves."