1335 hours, May 8, 2542
Lower City, High Charity
Vado 'Mavamee returned to the location of the ambush alongside Len'Vellana, who had retrieved her burnt robe. She had turned the article inside out, revealing the undamaged interior, and held it up for the shipmaster to see. "Resistant inner layer. Can survive a direct plasma grenade impact."
"Must be quite rare." Vado 'Mavamee remarked. "Not even Sangheili kaidons wear such clothing. And they regularly face assassins."
"My family is old, Vado. Our line has been unbroken since the founding of the Covenant, and in that time, we have built up many powerful allies, vassals and protectorates across the Covenant." She grinned. "But yes. It is expensive. Prohibitively so. And secret too."
The San'Shyuum put her robe back on and assumed the weak but sagely posture of before. Vado wondered why this warrior of the gods hid her divinely gifted abilities the way she did. It seemed odd to him. But he knew better than to ask her, and so he returned to the task at hand.
"Now. This Sek'Telapa. His name has crossed my desk. He's a wanted smuggler. Might I ask why you require his services?" The Prelate inquired.
"Holy One, I have been given a mission to head far into unknown space to expand the knowledge of the Covenant, find new peoples to bring into the fold and secure the future of the faithful." Vado said. His meeting with a being as holy as the Prelate was igniting a fire in his hearts. He could not lie to her.
"Then I would like to go with you and spread the faith. You require a missionary, do you not?"
"There could be none finer!" Vado 'Mavamee exclaimed. "Let us find Sek'Telapa. His skills as a scavenger, smuggler and sniper are unmatched in my experience. We will surely need his expertise. "
They descended further into the lower levels of the Holy City, passing through the great Assembly Forges and entering the lower habitation blocks, where the many Kig-Yar, Yanme'e, Jiralhanae and other oxygen-breathing laborers dwelled. It was a somewhat somber place, with little decoration or luxuries, but it was not ugly.
Len'Vellana motioned for Vado to enter the small habitation block. "Welcome to the habitation block Somber Duty Breeds Salvation. The people here maintain the fusion reactor at the core of their settlement. The locals may rarely leave, but this is a hub for many who travel between the Unbreakable Spine and the Districts. If anyone knows where your T'Vaoan is, it will be here."
The streets were clean, there were no beggars, and everyone seemed to be performing their assigned vocation with some measure of gusto or determination. They got a few glances, but most continued about their tasks. 'Mavamee could see the Kig-Yar were constructing a new hatchery.
Life of those who lived in the lower levels of High Charity was not always the most splendorous, but it was not one of squalor. The Covenant did not tolerate beggars or unclean streets. The former would be given tasks or assigned to the expeditionary fleets, while the latter would be cleaned up. No exceptions.
"Your Grace." Vado said respectfully. "You navigate the lower levels of the city with a practiced grace and ease. You must have been down here more often. I must admit, I never left the Golden City or the Assembly Forges before."
Len'Vellana smiled sweetly. "Before my flesh was reforged by the divine instruments of the Ministry of Preparation, it was my duty to negotiate disagreements between the races not on the High Council. I've walked the lower levels many times when performing the duties of my office."
She motioned at the bustling district around them. It was filled with hard-working males and females of the Covenant, moving back and forth as they went about their daily lives. Many stopped to stare at Len'Vellana and Vado 'Mavamee and offered a short bow, hand across their heart. "I am a regular here. This district serves as a hub between a dozen Assembly Forges, infusion factories, dockyards, Yanme'e hives, Kig-Yar clutch chambers and Unggoy methane chambers. Keeping this place peaceful helps stabilize many of the surrounding levels."
"Like a general who controls a strategic crossroads and uses it to project force and control the battlefield." The shipmaster said. "That is a wise strategy."
The San'Shyuum nodded. "Indeed. Since I began focusing my efforts here, crime in most surrounding districts has gone down substantially. Wealth and prosperity are better at fighting crimes than a dozen Sangheili guards." She pointed at a large building with a sign in the Covenant trade pidgin - the language most traders and merchants spoke - on it..
"Yapyap's food nipple and infusion palace. Second serving free for deacons. Inquire after our methane infusion suites."
Vado opened and closed his mandibles in some confusion. "Your Grace, is this the right place?"
"Indeed, Shipmaster. Yapyap doesn't just serve the best food nipples and benzene, his bar is also neutral ground between many of the gangs and cults operating in the area. If anyone knows where the smuggler is, its Yapyap."
The shipmaster followed the robed San'Shyuum into the bar. It was a simple but well organized place, constructed of purple and dark grey metal, with the furniture and alcoves built into the walls and ceiling themselves. There was a single large bar with an Unggoy standing behind it, cleaning a glass. Above the counter hung a fuel rod cannon. There were overhanging nests constructed of synthetic fibres and ropes on which Kig-Yar sat in squawking groups, gnawing at kebabs of vat-grown meat.
On the ground floor there were alcoves, where a single central table could be found, around which lay pillows. On each table was a large food dispenser, as well as a methane refueling hose. Large Unggoy families gathered around each station to talk in their own dialects, taking sips from their food dispensers. Vado saw a waiter move up to a group that had just sat down, open the top of the dispenser and put a large transparent tub with some kind of nutrient paste in it. The waiter then closed the cap, and each Unggoy took a tube at the bottom of the dispenser, then screwed a clean mouthpiece from a rack on the table on. Preparations complete, they began drinking from their dispenser.
There was a single Jiralhanae, obviously a bouncer, leaning next to a door that led to a backroom.
Vado could make out four languages being spoken inside the bar: two dialects of Kig-Yar, three Unggoy dialects, the buzzing of the Yanme'e and the unmistakable sound of the Covenant trade pidgin that sounded like a bastardisation of Sangheili and Unggoy - which, in essence, it was.
The San'Shyuum caused stunned silence when she entered. Ignoring the gawkers, Vellana headed directly for the bartender.
"Yapyap, I am looking for Sek'Telapa. Get him for me." She said in her lilting voice.
"Right away, your Grace!" The Unggoy said, running through a door that was barely large enough for him to walk through - when ducking; a crude but effective way to block a Sangheili.
Vado 'Mavamee prepared himself for the ambush he expected. But instead the Unggoy came back through the small door, followed by a T'Vaoan who cursed loudly upon seeing the shipmaster, before noticing Len'Vellana and giving a short respectful bow.
"Your Grace, what have I done to deserve your visit?" The Kig-Yar sounded anxious, and like he wanted to make a run for it. His voice was partly scornful, but also partly sincere.
"Sek. Why are you hiding at a bar?" The shipmaster asked pointedly. "Are you hiding from one of your wives again?"
"Oh, Shipmaster, if only that were true. I… uhm..." Sek looked as if he was thinking up something, then just shrugged. "I messed up. Lost a shipment. Now my wife is looking to kill me. Yapyap's place is neutral ground, see. Nobody dares start a fight here." The Kig-Yar squawked. "Veterans working together. And all that." He gave the shipmaster a pointed grin.
Yapyap piped up. "Nobody dares mess with an Unggoy's bar when he has a fuel rod cannon under his counter." The Unggoy took off his mask for just a second so he could smile.
"It's hanging above your bar." Len'Vellana remarked.
"Oh. That's an antique from the Grunt rebellion." Yapyap pointed below his bar, with Len and Vado leaning over to inspect what he was pointing at. There was a black fuel rod cannon under the counter. "This one is from my days in Spec Ops."
"You've calmed down remarkably." The shipmaster remarked, noticing that the Unggoy bartender's uneasiness from before had almost completely vanished.
"Her Grace doesn't usually come here, unless it's to shut down a heretical sect or a criminal network. I was worried there was gonna be a shootout. What do you even need Sek for?"
"I have need of his skills as a sniper, scavenger, and… procurer." Vado 'Mavamee said. "I spent a year trying to catch him before he got a pardon for smuggling modified plasma rifles." The shipmaster clicked his jaws. "Saved some high ranking minister's favorite concubine. Full pardon for a lifetime of crime."
Yapyap laughed inside his mask, the sound coming out muffled. "Whatever you're taking him for, I want in. This sounds like fun."
The shipmaster raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the Unggoy. He hadn't intended to take any on his expedition. "Why the sudden bravery, Unggoy?"
Yapyap shrugged. "Someone has to make sure Sek doesn't get himself killed. And I've been planning to retire for a while now. I'll leave the bar to my children." Yapyap looked at the T'Vaoan. "One last adventure? Just like old times."
Sek sighed. "I've been going stir crazy cooped up in here. And I'm not stupid enough to refuse a shipmaster and a San'Shyuum. Give me a minute to pack; I've still got an old needle rifle somewhere."
Vado offered a small prayer of thanks to the gods for putting Yapyap in his path. Surely this had to be providence.
The Minister of Discovery examined the mysterious device on his desk. He was intrigued by it. New type of holographic technology. A "haptic interface". Incredible storage capacity. And a wealth of data. It was a fascinating device, to be sure.
He looked at the images his Huragok had been able to extract, taking in the beautiful sights. This "Citadel" looked majestic: not as large as the Covenant's capital by far, but it was still a truly remarkable sight - the way it spun peacefully in the nebula, the ships moving around it. He decided that when the Covenant took that part of the galaxy into the fold, the Citadel would be kept intact.
Perhaps it could be incorporated into High Charity? Closed up and placed inside the great dome as a commensurately great monument?
The idea made him smile. The Citadel species, according to this "codex", were wise, intelligent, and diplomatic to a fault. It was a tragedy they fought alongside the humans, as he would have preferred diplomacy to bring them into the fold. But that could still be possible: they seemed very divided.
The salarians intrigued him - a short lived species of skilled scientists. They reminded him of the San'Shyuum who tended the relic vaults and researched the power and majesty of the ancients. The fact this species did not have the relics of the gods meant they had to develop their own sciences from the ground up. Admirable, if true.
The Minister had often in his life tried to move the lumbering engine of Covenant technological development, but rarely with much success. If the salarians could be incorporated into the Covenant… would they form a new caste? Researchers of the unsanctified sciences, perhaps in an assisting role to the San'Shyuum? The possibilities were amazing.
The hanar were wise and devout. They could colonize the ocean worlds of the Covenant and become the next big generation of missionaries and preachers. Much better than the Kig-Yar, in any case. He would love to talk with one of their priests and compare their histories. These "Protheans" must have been another race enlightened by the gods.
The turians and the Sangheili seemed natural partners. He had no doubt that the turians could in time push the Jiralhanae down in the hierarchy, and be one of the foremost military powers of the Covenant, after their society had been broken in.
When the Covenant's inexorable march towards salvation met the Citadel, their races would not be wiped out like the impure humans. No, they would be integrated into the Covenant and bring new wealth and prosperity unseen since the last Golden Age!
The Minister did some mental calculations. He was convinced that if Vado 'Mavamee sent back the information needed to send further scouting missions into Citadel space, he could appeal to the High Council to be given the resources it needed to fully exploit this information. And then, in accordance with the mandate of the Ministry of Discovery, they could monopolize exploration of Citadel Space, as well as distribution of astro-navigation information.
He had been liquidating what assets he had left, including many of his personal relics, in order to balance the ministry's finances. They were stable for now, which gave him some leeway to work with.
Discovery had also managed to report the loss of the ships containing the only living witnesses of the battle against the turians as due to "faulty navigation systems" from the Assembly Forge he had gotten the ships from. In order to avoid lengthy legal procedures and labyrinthine bureaucracy, the Assembly Forge's owners had settled out of court and offered to replace the ships.
He had gotten ten storm cutters instead and had sent one to a Sangheili keep who owed his ministry fealty each to acquire the finest zero-gravity trained warrior of each world. He only wanted the best of the best for Vado 'Mavamee's crew. Ten elite Rangers with the best equipment he could provide would fit this criterion.
The Unggoy would be far easier: he merely had to take one each from a cargo ship under his control and have them transported to the new ship. So far, his spies had not reported any sign that the Minister's activities had been discovered. Everything was still going smoothly.
The Minister of Discovery stood up from his desk and walked towards the window that overlooked the Golden City, his gravity belt straining to keep him upright. He took in the image that stood on the desk; it was a picture of his late wife in her wedding gown. The Minister smiled somberly; he still missed the Prophetess of Discovery. But she had passed away in her sleep many cycles ago, and he had learned to cope with his grief. Still, she'd loved the Ministry, and had devoted her life to making it grow. He wondered if she would approve of his actions.