As usual, Part 7 is draft, so here's Part 4. Should be more action starting around Parts 7-8, so if you're willing to put up with me for another month or two or so I'll try to make it worth it. As always, reviews and comments are appreciated.

Standard copyright disclaimer: I do not own Halo or any associated media, characters, or settings which are properties of 343 or Bungie. This is a work of fanfiction written purely for entertainment and not for monetary gain.

27 June 2549

System R-25509-A6

Ten hours after arriving in-system, the situation on the Phantom Chance had stabilized. All the fires were out, and the hull breaches were patched, though a couple compartments were still sealed off. She was definitely battered and needed yard time, but she could still move and her slipspace drive was intact.

But inside one of the cabins, the mood was tense. Inside were all the ship commanders; Chac Lon, Shim Vol, Mirr, and Brak, along with Teth and Shaon Tol. Plus the mysterious Forerunner artifact.

Chac Lon sat at the end of the table, his face buried in his hands. "Almost twenty kig-yar dead, about as many unggoy, two of our ships need yard time, and all for nothing. By the oceans and skies, this is a disaster."

"It's not my fault, how the hell was I supposed to know that the place would be infested with humans!" Shaon Tol interjected. Some of her feathers were still covered in soot; she had spent the last several hours leading a damage control party. Not what she had hoped to spend her trip to a system full of Forerunner artifacts doing.

Chac Lon waved a hand. "Nobody's blaming you, Forerunner shit is always a risk. Gods, I don't think anybody here expected this though." He hadn't served in the Covenant and never intended to, but Chac Lon hoped he never saw that many human ships again unless he was in a much larger and better-armed ship. "So, what do we do now?"

"Does the Covenant know about that system? It wasn't on any of our charts but maybe the prophets have some secret charts." Mirr said.

Chac Lon replied; "With all the ships we picked up there they'd probably give the High Charity defense fleet a bloody beak. Still, if it's a system that well defended, the Covenant would attack it as soon as they knew. Glassing those planets would kill millions of humans at least."

"So, assume they don't know about Erde-Tyrene. I know telling them isn't your favorite idea, but it's an option."

"Yeah, Mirr, you're right. You all can tell the Covenant if you want to and I won't stop you, but I'm not doing that myself. Other option is we keep it quiet, tell everyone that our trashed ships are from a job gone bad, and take the hit. Could tell one of the Big 6 about it, let them try their luck."

Shim Vol cut in; "My sensors picked up a lot of pretty big ships closer in in the system, bigger than anything any kig-yar has. We send one of the Big 6 into a trap and they hunt us down and kill us."

"Alright that's out. Brak, what do you think?" The fourth captain had been silent in the conversation so far.

"I say we sell it to the Covenant, not directly, but use some of our contacts. Going directly to them will get us a lot of attention. And I don't know why, but I feel … unwell... about this whole situation. Something doesn't make sense."

"Above this being a massive disaster?"

"Yes. I can't explain it, but this is odd even for dealing with Forerunner relics. I dislike it."

A few moments of silence passed. Had the planet they found in fact been the human homeworld? That would explain why there was so many human ships there, plus at least two colonized planets that they saw. But that system was not just on the Forerunner artifact they found (along with Eayn, Sanghelios, and other worlds), but was specially marked with the glyph for "Reclamation". Had the humans of all people been blessed with Forerunner artifacts? Or was there some other meaning behind that symbol?

"There was a theory..." Shaon Tol said softly. "A fringe theory, but I saw it in a copy of a copy of a paper a sangheili wrote a few years ago. That the translation of 'reclamation' was wrong, just a bit off but very, very wrong." She continued, a bit louder now. "You won't find it in any of High Charity's official archives, and that sangheili disappeared along with her whole family just after she put out that paper. I don't think she was the first, either." The implication was left unsaid.

"What do you mean the translation is 'wrong'? And why would the Covenant disappear an entire family of sangheili over the translation of a single glpyh?" Chac Lon asked, worry creeping into his voice.

"What if it doesn't mean 'reclamation'?" Shaon Tol pointed at the symbol marking Erde-Tyrene on the artifact. "What if it means 'reclaimer'?"

Now the room was truly silent. "Teth, is this cabin sealed?" Chac Lon growled.

"Yeah, Chac."

"None of you, and none of this leaves until I say so. That door stays closed." He turned back to Shaon Tol. "Could it mean that? Was that sangheili right?"

"Yes, it could. I don't know how I didn't see it before, I think my mind didn't want to see it. Because if humans are marked as reclaimers, then..."

"Then the Forerunners chose them for their successors, for something. And the Covenant has been killing them for years." Chac Lon finished. "By the gods, this is radioactive. This could get every single one of us killed. What do we do? What the hell do we do now?"

"Does anyone in the Covenant know? Do the Prophets?" Shim Vol asked.

"If Shaon Tol is right, and they've killed people's entire families over this, then somebody high up must know and want this covered up. By the gods, this could go all the way up to the hierarchs!" Mirr replied.

The implications silenced the kig-yar in the room. If the Prophets (or at least some of them) had come to the same conclusion Shaon Tol did, then the humans were the true successors to the Forerunners. And for the last twenty years, the Covenant had been exterminating them. Along with killing anyone who figured this out.

It was clear why someone in the Covenant wanted to keep this quiet. How would somebody like the sangheili react to finding out that the war they had been fighting was at best, a lie, and at worst actively destructive to their religion? If that secret got out it could tear the entire Covenant apart.

None of that mattered to the kig-yar at the moment. What did matter was how they were going to keep themselves from being impaled on a zealot kill team's swords.

"So what are our options?" Chac Lon asked. "I don't care about the Great Journey or Reclaimers or any of that crap right now, I care about how to make sure us and our crew don't end up dead."

"I would say we just shut up and never talk about this again, but I don't know if I can hold in a secret like this the rest of my life." Shim Vol said.

"Yeah, I know me and I'd mess up and let it slip when I'm drunk or some crap like that." Chac Lon said. "Besides, that's hoping the Covenant doesn't trace the files Shaon got a hold of, or that they don't have an agent on one of our ships that could figure out it. And I'd bet my left arm that they've got at least one on every one of our ships."

It was an open secret within kig-yar society that any pirate or mercenary group of decent size would have a couple crew on the Covenant's payroll. Not necessarily actual agents of the Covenant intelligence services, but maybe just regular kig-yar given a few extra credits if they tip off the Covenant when their outfit did anything outside the unofficial boundaries for kig-yar pirate groups. Things like going after Covenant military traffic, or coming up with extreme new forms of heresy based on translations of Forerunner relics.

To be clear, the Covenant would probably take an interest in them just for finding such as large and well-preserved relic like they did on Tangier II. But instead of just getting an unpleasant interview with a bunch of sangheili (and the relic seized) whenever the Ministry of Concert got around to it, this would get them marked for death.

"But what choices do we have then? Spent the rest of our lives on the run, hiding at the edge of space in places like this, looking over our shoulders every minute in fear? That sounds like a damned shit excuse for an existence." Shim Vol replied.

"I think I might have heard some rumors about a jiralhanae gathering mercenaries to fight the Covenant-"

"No!" Chac Lon hissed. "You can, but I'm not going crawling to one of them."

Out on the fringes of know space there were colonies of kig-yar (and even rare ones of other species) eking out existence in forgotten and remote systems. Pirates and mercenaries who'd crossed someone powerful, heretics, Covenant deserters; all sorts of misfits could be found out there barely surviving. Chac Lon and his outfit had even stolen from some of them a few times, not that they usually had much worth stealing.

At that point, Brak, who had been again been silent for a while, dropped a bombshell on the discussion.

"We must help the humans. It's what the Forerunners would demand."

"What."

"It's clear. The only way to succeed on the Great Journey is by following in the Forerunner's footsteps, and if the humans are Reclaimers than they will be our guides. It is our responsibility to protect them." Brak looked over the room. "I know you all don't believe the way I do, but it makes sense."

"Alright, yeah, it does in a way." Chac Lon replied. "But that's quite a line to cross. And they might be a bit upset that we've been stealing from them the past couple years. I couldn't tell you how many humans I've killed by now but it's probably a lot."

"How would they know it's us? Humans probably can't tell kig-yar apart, just say it was some other group of pirates that did all that stuff. Not saying this isn't insane, because it is, but maybe it's not completely insane." Shim Vol added; she actually seemed to be considering the idea.

A flurry of discussion followed as the kig-yar argued with each other. Would the humans shoot them on sight? Would they use all the kig-yar for demented medical experiments? Were they just going to go back to Erde-Tyrene and tell the humans they wanted to talk? Would they have to join the human military, or could they sell themselves as a mercenary group?

After a few minutes of arguing, Chac Lon slammed his hand on the table. "Alright, we need to decide on something. Whatever we end up doing at this point is going to be painful, but we need to figure out what we're doing and start planning. Sounds like our two main options are going into hiding or going to work for the humans." He paused. "Brak, I already know which one you vote for, so I'll say my piece. I also think we should work with the humans." He held up his hand. "Not because I've suddenly decided to believe in the Great Journey, but because I think it's the best option to put ourselves in a really good position. The humans are getting the guts beaten out of them right now, but they haven't lost yet. If we work with them and they win, we've got an in on their markets, selling their weapons, everything after the war ends. If they lose, well, we probably die. Like we probably will anyway. Worst case scenario, we broadcast the stuff about the humans being Reclaimers and hope it makes the Covenant split into pieces."

"Why don't we do that last part now?" Shaon Tol asked. "Aside from that it might distract the Covenant from chasing after us, part of me doesn't like the thought of billions of beings living for something we know is a lie."

"Honestly, with how incendiary this is I'm worried if we try to spread it the Prophets might come down hard on all kig-yar. Imagine if they decide an appropriate punishment for heresy is putting the unggoy in charge. I'm willing to risk us but I don't want to risk that." Chac Lon responded.

"Brak, I know what you vote for." The other kig-yar nodded. "What about the rest of you?"

Shim Vol was the first to speak. "Let's do it. Rather take a chance at winning big if we're probably going to die anyway."

Mirr was a bit less enthusiastic. "I think you're all insane. But..." She gestured in resignation, "I don't have a better idea myself. And I've stuck with you all this long, not going to quit now."

Chac Lon laughed. "Good, now we've got the hard part out of the way. Now we just have to figure out how to defect to someone that might shoot us on sight and not get ourselves killed before we even get to that point."

"We could just bolt now. We already know where the humans are, and no chance of us getting caught by the Covenant." Shim Vol said.

"That's probably a smarter idea, but if we want to do this and come out richer on the other side we're going to have to prepare. Stock up on weapons, provisions, tech to trade to the humans. Plus, we should at least the crew that are up on their contracts off." Chac Lon said. "You've got the right idea, though. Whatever we do, as soon as we're back in inhabited space the clock is started." He turned to Teth. "Teth, you're better at this kind of stuff than I ever was. We can handle our personal stuff, you handle how we're going to do this on a company level. And Shaon, I want you to gather up all the information you have on Forerunner stuff. Papers, data, anything. That's our most valuable trade stuff, the humans are going to need it, and I'd bet a ton of credits you understand that stuff better than any of them."

The t'vaoan laughed. "Already on it, Chac. No way in hell I'm letter some minor prophet get their wrinkly hands on my research."

Another blizzard of conversation started. Should they stock up on human or Covenant weapons, or both? What about about vehicles; probably no point in buying a Wraith, but the hangar bays could fit a couple more Banshees at least. How many rations did they need? (Kig-yar could eat human food, but most of their rations were unappetizing to say the least.) What should be done with the unggoy; they would do pretty much whatever the kig-yar ordered them to, but taking them along would mean needing to bring methane and rations for them.

About an hour later, the kig-yar were in the middle of a debate about how to safely make it to human-controlled space without getting killed by the Covenant or jumpy humans. At the far end of the table, out of nowhere, Brak started chuckling. In a few seconds, the conversation stopped as he laughed

uncontrollably, his head on the table as he struggled to contain himself.

"Brak, are you alright?" Chac Lon asked as the other kig-yar continued laughing.

"It just hit me... how many times have I cursed my mother for what she did. How much did I hate her for getting my family kicked out of High Charity and ruining any chance of me joining the Covenant military?" Brak choked out in between fits of laughter. "How much I tried to act the zealot to distance myself from her?" He had stopped laughing now, and sat up, smiling. "And now I'm a thousand times the heretic she ever was!" He started laughing again.

There were a few seconds of silence. Then, Shim Vol started laughing, followed by Chac Lon and shortly after the rest of the kig-yar in the room.

"Really is no turning back now, is there?" Chac Lon said. "Well, if we all die, I suppose there's worse ways to go than flaming out like this."

"I don't know, boss, I've heard getting stabbed by an energy sword is pretty painful."

"Ah, that's not the point. " Chac Lon waved his hand. "Outfits like us, there's been hundreds of them, we make some money, pass it on to our children if we're lucky, get forgotten. Us? We're either going to do something no kig-yar has before, or at least be hated by the prophets for the next couple hundred years."

"Hopefully, for our sakes, the rest of the crew agrees." Teth responded. "We still haven't worked out how we're going to tell them, have we?"

"No, I haven't yet." Chac Lon said, taking a more serious tone. "I doubt many of them have much love for the Covenant, but still."

Like many out pirate outfits, many of Chac Lon's crew members were on the Covenant's bad side for some reason. Many of them had been some flavor of petty criminal or were already pirates before they signed on. A few were likely heretics of some sort (even though the Covenant had pretty well stamped out traditional kig-yar religions by 2549). Of course, there were others. Some were risk takers or adventurers who wanted something more exciting than a job planetside or on a merchant ship. The problem was that at least a few of them likely had some belief in the Covenant's religion or at least sympathy for the government. (And Chac Lon couldn't count on all of the true believers reasoning their way out of it like Brak had.) For most of them, loyalty to the crew they had been with for years would win out over faint loyalty to the Covenant. Hopefully.

Failing that, they'd have to rely on fear. The Covenant could be variable in how it applied justice (many a kig-yar had lived or died depending on a prophet's mood), but guilt by association happened more often than not. Against that, a lot of the crew would think rolling the dice with humans was a better option. At least there had been a few instances of humans and kig-yar working together and managing not to kill each other. The biggest one was kig-yar working with human rebels, not the UNSC, and it fell apart once the Covenant showed up in force, but there was still at least some evidence it could work.

The real wild card, and one that the kig-yar had no control over, was the humans. Chac Lon didn't know a lot of details about how the Human-Covenant war was going, but he knew the humans were losing. That was obvious if only from the partially-glassed worlds he'd gone on 'salvage' expeditions to. The best case for the kig-yar was that they'd be desperate for any help they could get.

There were a lot of worst case scenarios. Being shot out of the sky was an obvious one; Shaon Tol had the task of finding a good human colony for them to contact, but even she could make mistakes or get unlucky. It was clear that heading back to Erde-Tyrene was not an option. The humans had savaged them badly enough when they appeared by surprise. Now that the humans were on alert, the massive fleets in that system would destroy their little group in minutes (even with some of the modifications Chac Lon was considering for the Phantom Chance). But there were dozens, if not hundreds, of small human colonies scattered throughout space. Surely they could sniff out the location of a suitable one.

There was a worse fate than dying in the vacuum of space; the kig-yar could end up in ONI's custody. Even in kig-yar society there were rumors about the ferocity and depravity of the secret human group. Hopefully the more salacious rumors about them vivisecting prisoners or feeding them to starving humans were false. Even if they were, spending the rest of their lives in a prison cell being interrogated was not a fate any of the kig-yar wanted.