This was one of the touchier sections to write, especially the last segment. Feel like I managed not to botch it up too badly. Still maintaining the 1 chapter buffer, for now.
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.
19 September 2549
Kennewick System, near Ballast (UNSC Space)
"Oceans and skies, what did you put in my head?!"
Chac Lon lay on the floor in the cryo bay of the cruiser UNSC Durban clutching his head. A UNSC technician stood nearby, smirking.
"What, you never been put on ice before?"
"Gods, no." The T'vaoan tried to stand up, but only managed to prop himself against a wall. "You humans must be damned insane if you go through this every time you go between stars." Chac Lon retched, spitting a bit of fluid onto the floor.
"You're going to have to clean that up." The technician told Chac Lon.
"I swear upon the rings I will rip out your intestines." Chac Lon was standing now, barely. Further down the room he saw more of his crew being unfrozen. Like him, they seemed to be taking it quite badly. Chac Lon watched as one of his crew was helped out of the tube, only to flop onto the floor like he had.
On the other hand, the humans coming out of cryostasis were doing much better. Chac Lon looked at the humans, then turned to glare at the technician, who held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"Hey, I've never had to freeze one of you before. ONI gave me four different drugs I had to mix into the solution just to keep from killing you all." He paused, a concerned look on his face. "How did ONI figure out a cryo drug that works on jackals anyway? I'm probably not supposed to ask about that, am I?"
By the time Rear Admiral Korhonen arrived twenty minutes later, Chac Lon had recovered enough to walk unassisted, get himself decently clothed and make his way to a nearby mess hall.
Korhonen himself had just gotten out of cryo a bit ago. It still wasn't a pleasant experience, but after a bit more than 20 years in the UNSC he was pretty used to it. He sat down across from Chac Lon.
"Medics are looking over your crew, but it doesn't look like there was any permanent damage."
Chac Lon did not immediately respond; he was too busy drinking a large glass of water he'd poured for himself. Half a minute later, after finishing it, he put the glass down and spoke.
"I can see why you humans are so interested in our slipspace cores. Gods, how long were we frozen?"
"Almost a month."
The T'vaoan shuddered. "So if you do this every time you go between systems... you've spent years frozen. Explains why so many of you humans volunteered to crew my ships."
While most of the kig-yar made the trip to Ballast frozen aboard one of the UNSC's vessels, a skeleton crew, under human supervision, had flown Chac Lon's small fleet out of 26 Draconis. Chac Lon didn't know where they were going, but he'd heard they weren't heading directly to the same place they were. Ballast was one of humanity's more important colonies (at least compared to somewhere like Levosia or Tangier II), so Chac Lon figured the UNSC wanted to thoroughly scrub his ships for tracking devices. He'd already done so before leaving Eayn for the last time, but the humans would naturally want to check for themselves. It was also a great opportunity for the UNSC to gain familiarity with Covenant systems. Even though much of the equipment (especially on the Phantom Chance) was nonstandard, the two corvettes and freighters in Chac Lon's fleet were the first time the UNSC got anything bigger than a dropship to look at intact.
"We've still got about a day left before we land on Ballast, so I wanted to let you know what the situation's going to be so you can get your crew in order."
"Alright admiral, go ahead." Chac Lon was behaving slightly more respectably toward Korhonen since he found out the rear admiral was going to stay in charge of his kig-yar for the time being. It was an open question whether it was actual respect, or just a recognition that excessively annoying someone with a lot of control over you wasn't a great idea.
"We're going to be putting your people in a fairly isolated military camp, not too different from last time. With that said, Ballast is a much more heavily developed planet than Levosia was, with a much bigger civilian population. There's a chance that someone will stumble across you all, either random wanderers or people deliberately snooping. Area where you'll be going is a lot foggier than Camp Teton, but still. If that happens, we, the regular UNSC, will handle it. Not you."
"No problem with that, most humans don't like my kind anyway. How much does a random human know about the war, anyway?" Chac Lon asked.
"How much does a Covenant 'civilian' know?"
"You might imagine that the Prophets do their best to sanitize what the population knows. Though, the Covenant's been winning, so maybe they don't have to lie too much." Chac Lon chuckled grimly. "Really, depends. Kig-yar? We know more than most. Most clans have someone in the Covenant military, and we do our best to keep each other informed. And someone in my occupation naturally has access to a lot of information. Couldn't tell you what's in the mind of a sangheili fleetmaster but where supplies and ships are going tells you a lot."
"Do you know anyone serving in the Covenant?" Korhonen assumed ONI had asked Chac Lon this at some point, but he might as well hear for himself.
"Now? I have a few distant cousins, nobody I'm too close with. For them, talking to a pirate like me is always a risk, and I have other sources of information." Chac Lon waved his hand dismissively. "Some random unggoy on High Charity? They're only getting what the Prophets feed them."
"What about the elites- sangheili? I assume they buy what the Prophets say as well?"
"Hmmm. Now there is an interesting question. You still haven't answered mine, by the way. For the most part, yes, they listen to what the Prophets say. The sangheili have more capacity for independent thought than an unggoy, but their position at the top of the Covenant serves them well, so why should they question it? Although..." Chac Lon grinned. "Not all of them are quite as devout as they seem. I spoke to one once, a trader passing through T'vao, and he confided in me that many sangheili think you humans fight quite well. Honorably even, which is not something the sangheili say lightly. At least in public. Did I ever tell you about the smuggler I met in a prawn shop on Eayn just a bit before the incident at Erde Tyrene?"
"No, I don't believe you did." Korhonen had to take a moment to translate 'Erde Tyrene' to 'Earth'. This must have happened about three months ago, then.
"She made a living selling bootleg human media, salvaged from human settlements mostly. The unggoy quite like your films, but interestingly there are some sangheili who do as well. Good luck getting them to admit it, though!" Chac Lon laughed.
"I can't think the Covenant would be too happy about that."
Chac Lon's demeanor darkened. "When I met her she had just had her legs broken by jiralhanae filth, so what do you think?" The anger in his voice drew the attention of a few other kig-yar who had filtered into the mess hall, but Chac Lon quickly composed himself.
"Well, to answer your question -" Korhonen picked up the slack in the conversation after an awkward pause. "We tell them what they need to know. They know there's a war going on, and most will have an idea it's not going great. Especially a colony like this, that has a lot of refugees from planets the Covenant's glassed."
"But they won't know details, like that not all kig-yar want to eat their hatchlings." Chac Lon said.
"Yes."
"Then we'd best make sure none of them run into any of my people."
Korhonen glared at him. "That won't be a problem if you keep your jackals under control."
Chac Lon smiled. "Don't worry, I will do what you ask. After all, it would be bad publicity if some untrained, jumpy civilian started a fight with an experienced fighter like one of my kig-yar."
The human admiral gritted his teeth. Looked like Chac Lon had shaken off the effects of cryo and was back to his normal self.
"If you need any additional motivation to behave yourself, there will be Spartans on Ballast to keep an eye on you. I'm told you call them 'demons' in the Covenant. Have you encountered them before?"
The T'vaoan stared at Korhonen. "Am I lying in a hole with my head shattered into thirty-six pieces?"
That answered that question. Chac Lon continued. "There are rumors about them, whispered thirdhand from kig-yar in the Covenant and pirate groups that have been unfortunate enough to get on your bad side." He laughed. "I might be one of the first to see one and live. My reputation will grow!"
25 September 2549
UNSC Camp Saranac, Ballast (Inner Colony)
Camp Teton on Levosia had been set in a flat plain covered in sagebrush-like shrubs and grasses. Built on top of basalt lava flows barely 10,000 years old in a semi-arid site, the soil at that site had been too thin to support trees (aside from where the UNSC had deliberately landscaped inside the base for shade and aesthetics). Camp Saranac was a much different place. The UNSC installation was in a remote area of granite mountains divided by green valleys. A few thousand years before, the site of Camp Saranac was covered by a kilometer of ice, which scoured out deep valleys as they retreated and dropped countless boulders. But, there was enough soil, and enough rain, that trees and other plants could grow, and conical, dark green trees covered the valleys and lower mountain slopes. (The glaciers were advancing again, driven by complex cycles of the Ballast's orbital dynamics, but it would be centuries before Camp Saranac would be back under ice.)
For the kig-yar at the base, the weather was definitely colder than they were used to, but nothing they couldn't deal with. Many had visited dozens of planets, from tropical island paradises to worlds covered in sandstorms and toxic smog. Ballast was certainly one of the better planets they had been to. Even better, now that the humans didn't completely distrust them, the kig-yar could spend some time outside their barracks.
Chac Lon and a few other kig-yar were about a kilometer and a half outside the main area of Camp Saranac, within a field of boulders lying at the bottom of a narrow gully. Here, not only could they get fresh air, but they could also discuss things they didn't necessarily want the humans to hear. Speaking in kig-yar only got you so much privacy when ONI is assuredly recording everything you say.
Not that the humans didn't know where they were. Yesterday, in a rare break in the stratus clouds that covered this area, some of the kig-yar had caught sight of UNSC drones circling overhead. Doubtless it had thermal sensors that could pick up kig-yar even through cloud cover.
"I'm telling you, after this war is over, the humans will be swimming in old weapons they have no use for! Weapons that we can sell to other kig-yar for quite a profit!" Chac Lon exclaimed from his perch atop a large boulder.
"And will there not be just as many old Covenant weapons left lying around? That virtually all kig-yar already know how to use?" Teth responded. He was sitting on a shelf of rock a bit further up the drainage, leaning against a patch of moss on the side of another boulder. Three other kig-yar were sitting nearby, in their own comfortable spots. Chac Lon thought he had the best one; his boulder was just a bit too tall for him to jump to the top in this gravity, but the cracks in its weathered surface gave him enough grip to climb to the top, and for a few ferns and other small plants to grow on the boulder's upper surface.
"Yes, but. My needle rifle, all the crystals for it come from Suban. If we aren't on good terms with the sangheili after the war, you think they're going to let us harvest from the moon of their home planet? Not for a reasonable price."
Before Teth could respond to Chac Lon's last point, Kvet butted into the conversation. "I don't think all the money is in weapons, we can make a lot selling other human tech to other kig-yar. Medical technology, computers – no, I'm not just saying that because I haven't been able to get into their systems."
"Why are they so hard to get into, anyway? You'd think some dustball like the last place we were on would have worse security than a major Covenant ministry, but apparently not." Chac Lon said. He'd directed his people to lift any information they could on human technology and science, but they hadn't had much success. Thankfully they hadn't managed to piss off anyone important, so far. Chac Lon had made it clear that military operations and other secrets like that were too sensitive.
Some of their other efforts to find products worth trading were bearing fruit, though (both literally and metaphorically). The day after landing on Ballast one of Shim Vol's crew traded for an entire box of some gelatinous, fruit-flavored product full of sugar. The kig-yar loved it. So much, in fact, that some idiot had broken open a machine that let you buy the product in exchange for human currency and stolen the entire contents. That had forced Chac Lon to endure a talking-to from Korhonen and have the perpetrator roughed up a bit for appearance's sake. And then reward her under the table for finding a product worth trading.
Kvet sighed. "Biggest problem is the personal side of it. I can't just call up some human corporation and say 'greetings, this is the UNSC password inspector, don't ask why I have a kig-yar accent now'. Even if I could, these humans just seem better at securing their data than the Covenant was."
"Some sangheili probably decided that stuff was 'dishonorable' a couple hundred years ago and it stuck." Chac Lon's joke got a few chuckles out of the other kig-yar. He was about to continue when another of the kig-yar suddenly sat bolt upright, startled. "You hear that?"
"I heard... something." Teth and Kvet had both heard it as well. Chac Lon hadn't; he sat silently, straining to hear whatever it was. He couldn't hear anything beyond the wind, branches rustling, and other background noise of the forest.
"Humans did mention wildlife around here." Indeed, back when the colony was established in the 24th century, a few types of Earth animal were brought along and released into the wild as a sort of low grade terraforming. A few kinds had done well enough that they were now hunted on Ballast; Korhonen had even warned Chac Lon that they might run into hunters if they ventured beyond the boundaries of the government owned area. If that happened, it would be a disaster of the highest magnitude. Even if the kig-yar avoided getting shot, a hunter fleeing back to their settlement with reports of Covenant presence on Ballast would cause a severe panic.
"Probably that." The conversation started up again, for a few moments. Then, there was another noise, like two rocks slowly rubbing against each other. Chac Lon's hand drifted to the pistol at his side. He was mostly unarmored, but he was confident he could handle any random animal on this planet. With luck whatever was making noise would taste good.
"There you are." The voice from behind him, speaking in English, startled all the kig-yar. Dropping into a crouch and turning around, Chac Lon saw a pair of humanoid figures standing on the slope above him, barely ten meters away. They were clad in an unfamiliar kind of armor, painted to blend in with the landscape around Camp Saranac. Neither of their faces were visible behind their helmets.
"So you are the jackals we're supposed to be working with. Which of you is Chac Lon, I have been told he is in charge." The taller of the two figures spoke. From his voice, he sounded like a male human.
"That is me." Chac Lon spoke, still tense. Who were these people, and how had they managed to sneak up on all of them in full armor?
Kvet asked the question on everyone's mind. "Are you... the 'demons'?"
The smaller of the two humans laughed softly, but it was the taller one that spoke again. "I've been told that's what you Covenant call us."
"So you are the Spartans. Tell me, is it true you were created in a lab and trained from birth to kill?"
"That's classified."
"Ah. Are your names also classified, or are you only given a number?" Chac Lon had noticed that unlike most humans, these Spartans only had numbers on their uniforms, rather than their names. The taller one had "A259" painted on their armor in small white letters, while the other had "A173" written in the same spot.
"Even if they aren't, why would we tell you?" A173 responded. Chac Lon got the sense he shouldn't push his luck on that question. Interestingly, this one sounded female.
"Anyway, what brings you here? Will you be participating in the exercise tomorrow?" Teth asked. Rear Admiral Korhonen had arranged a training exercise with the kig-yar and a UNSC Army unit in one of the training areas of Camp Saranac. Several 'buildings' were set up, simulating a small settlement like might be found in the more remote areas of many human colonies (the buildings didn't have full plumbing, electricity, or furnishings, but they were built sturdy enough to be useful). Some wrecked vehicles and other debris completed the illusion. The kig-yar would defend, while the UNSC attacked from the woods nearby. Then, the script would flip, and the kig-yar would attack.
Obviously, live ammunition wouldn't be used (even though the UNSC unit had been thoroughly briefed on the situation, 'accidental' friendly fire would still be a risk). Instead, they would be using a system that modified the weapons to 'fire' invisible rays that would be tracked by sensors affixed to the outer layer of body armor. That would track who got 'hit' and who was 'dead', and feed the data back to Korhonen and the other officers supervising. The kig-yar thought it was an ingenious system, and Chac Lon wondered why nobody in the Covenant had ever come up with something similar for training. Another thing he could use to make money. Sangheili (or jiralhanae, or kig-yar) wouldn't care if a couple unggoy got scorched in live-fire training, but various mercenary and pirate groups might appreciate it.
The only problem was that the kig-yars' Covenant weapons weren't compatible with that system. For more common items such as plasma pistols and needlers the UNSC had over the years developed training weapons based on them, and the quartermasters at Camp Saranac had enough foresight to collect extras for the kig-yar to use. Chac Lon, though, had been handed a piece of plastic shaped vaguely like a needle rifle, with bright orange accents and the training equipment hastily fastened on. He suspected some new ensign had been sent to a shopping center to pick up a toy that looked a bit like the real thing.
"Not quite yet. Keeping an eye on you all for now." A259 flatly responded. "Making sure you don't step out of line. I'll tell you now; I'm not happy to be working with your kind, but orders are orders."
That made for an awkward pause in the conversation. Probably the Spartan's intention, Chac Lon thought. Looked like that was the cue for the kig-yar to head out. Chac Lon gestured to his compatriots, motioning in the direction of the main camp complex (though it was hidden by trees). As he dismounted from his perch, though, he couldn't resist a parting shot. With an exagerrated grin on his face, he turned back to the pair of Spartans.
"Don't worry 259, I'm sure we'll be friends soon enough. Everyone tells me I've got a great personality, and you know where to find me."
As he jumped to the forest floor, Chac Lon heard the Spartan mumble that "he couldn't believe Holland agreed to split up the team for this".
25 September 2549 (Ninth Age of Reclamation)
High Council Chambers, Covenant Holy City of High Charity
The High Council Chambers were not close to full, only a few were gathered there. The three hierarchs: Truth, Mercy, and Regret, along with barely a dozen honor guards and a few other sangheili who had been summoned by the council.
For several hours, the councilors had been discussing the recent distaster at the human colony. The loss of a Forerunner relic; unacceptable! And worse, heretics fighting alongside the humans! Such events demanded action. But still, the Prophet of Truth, 'leader' amongst the three hierarchs, found the discussions tiresome.
The decision on what to do with the disgraced shipmaster, Orna 'Leromee, should have been a simple one. His quick and prompt reporting of the situation was commendable. But the loss of the artifact and failure to defeat the humans was unacceptable, especially given that the fleet that arrived ten days later found no sign of the Forerunner artifact. In the end, he had been spared death, but assigned as a junior officer aboard a Rothem-pattern fireship. Work on those ships was a harsh and uncomfortable, and almost entirely reserved for the disgraced. 'Leromee's was dishonored, and his career was over. Likely, he would seek to regain some honor by committing suicide, but Truth did not care.
The second, and thornier, issue, was the heretic kig-yar seen fighting alongside the humans. Of course it would be kig-yar, Truth thought to himself. He had disliked that race since they poisoned the unggoy years ago, leading to the unggoy rebellion despite Truth's efforts to see the culprits punished. Aside from that, he found their general nature distateful; greedy, disobedient, impious. They could be useful tools, but they could also cause problems. Such as they were now.
Regrettably, the hierarchs did not know why the kig-yar had chosen to join the humans. Another failure by the Covenant's intelligence services. (Truth had done his best to subtly ensure that the sangheili-dominated leadership of the organization responsible monitoring the kig-yar.) Theories abounded. Truth dared not say it out loud, but he briefly wondered whether the kig-yar had discovered the truth of the Great Journey and the humans' relationship with the Forerunners. That secret he, Mercy, and Regret had learned from the oracle many years ago. (Doubtlessly Regret and Mercy had thought of the same.) But that was doubtful; the kig-yar cared naught of the Great Journey, and even if they did they lacked the knowledge to understand its full intricacies. Most of them only cared about the high price Forerunner relics commanded on the black market. Likely, these kig-yar had succumbed to their natural impulses after being offered large sums of money by the humans. Still, it was odd that they would go so boldly against the full might of the Covenant. The kig-yar had covertly interacted with human rebels (those 'insurrectionists', to Truth the distinction made little difference), once even under a hierarch's direction, but never gone so far as this. Perhaps the leader of these kig-yar was exceptionally greedy and stupid even by the standards of his kind.
They barely even knew who the leader of these heretics was. Truth had reviewed that sparse file that a junior san'shyuum had prepared for him. Chac Lon, a T'vaoan pirate of little note, not affiliated with any of the major pirate groups operating out of Eayn. The only reason they knew it was him was because of one of the Ministry of Concert's agents going dark a bit before the kig-yar were spotted at the human planet. The pictures of the lead kig-yar on the human colony did match the sparse description of him they had on file, but beyond that, nothing. Perhaps there was more buried on some bureaurcrat's computer deep in the bowels of High Charity or in some outlying system, but it was no matter. He, and all with him, had to die. Sooner, rather than later. Allowing any heresy the opportunity to spread invited danger.
Making that happen would not be a trivial matter. The problem was that there was virtually no information on where the heretic kig-yar had gone. Almost certainly on a human planet, but those vermin had many worlds the Covenant had yet to find. However, if the humans were paying them to fight, then the kig-yar would show up at some point; they were not the bravest fighters, but it was improbable the humans would pay them to sit around and do nothing. Attack enough human planets, and eventually their mercenaries would show up
While Truth had been thinking about that, the conversation had turned to what should be done to ensure other kig-yar did not follow in the footsteps of this heretic. Mercy wanted to come down harshly; stripping the kig-yar of many of their privileges, prohibiting them from commanding their own units; all in all putting them barely above the unggoy. Truth, on an emotional level, agreed. But, instead he had advocated caution. Doing such a major shakeup in the midst of the war with the humans could cause unforeseen problems. And besides, the heretic was not actually in the service of the Covenant, but one of the independent pirates that the Covenant tolerated as long as they did not cause too many problems. Despite his dislike of them, Truth realized he might still find use for the kig-yar in the future, when his other plans came to fruition.
But who was to lead the effort to eliminate the heretic kig-yar? A logical suggestion, proposed by Regret, was Thel 'Vadamee, commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice, who in a stroke of fortune happened to be on High Charity at this moment. Indeed, Regret had summoned him to the council, and he likely expectged he would be chosen. The sangheili had led numerous operations against the humans, achieving victory every time, and was known for his tactical and operational skill. But Truth had proposed an alternative. Not the jiralhanae chieftain Tartarus, as the other hierarchs might have expected, but the sangheili he had summoned; shipmaster Rota 'Yarolee.
'Yarolee was a rising star in the upper echelon of sangheili commanders, known for his zeal, relentless hatred of humans, and devotion to the Covenant cause. In tactical engagements he had proven successful, once destroying five times his own number in human ships in a battle two years ago. The argument that 'Yarolee could deal with the kig-yar while leaving 'Vadamee and the Fleet of Particular Justice free for larger-scale operations was enough to sway the other hierarchs. 'Vadamee would definitely crush this heresy, but he could not be in two places at once. 'Yarolee was, naturally, overjoyed at his selection, and (with appropriate humility) promised to swiftly carry out the hierarch's will. 'Vadamee was outwardly impassive, simply acknowledging the decision and pledging to continue to serve the Covenant. Doubtlessly, he was disappointed and thought the hierarchs had made the wrong decision, but 'Vadamee enough control of himself not to say this out loud. Especially considering Truth had once spared 'Vadamee from punishment after the incident with the human asteroid colony years ago. Which the kig-yar were again involved in, Truth thought.
Left unsaid was that Truth had done more digging on 'Yarolee, and found out what kind of commander he truly was. He was zealous, yes, but also arrogant and incredibly aggressive. That aggression could serve him well, but one day it would get him into trouble. And that was the real reason Truth had recommended him. 'Vadamee would eliminate the kig-yar and their human allies without incident. 'Yarolee probably would, but there was a chance he would charge in headlong and get himself killed. Then, Truth would have yet another example of the incompetence of the sangheili, and his scheme to replace them with the jiralhanae would advance. Especially when Truth's real response to the kig-yar heretics bore fruit.
Even better, if 'Yarolee got himself killed, in all likelihood whatever minor san'shyuum was attached to his fleet would die as well. Truth had no shortage of minor functionaries that had crossed him, or that he simply disliked. To borrow a human saying, might as well kill two birds with one stone.
As the meeting ended, Regret and Mercy chose to retire to their chambers. Most of the guards left, but a few remained with Truth as his next guest was brought in; the jiralhanae chieftain Tartarus. Over the past few years, Tartarus had proved useful to the council in many ways, and his status had risen greatly. This had upset some of the more traditionalist sangheili; indeed, even 'Vadamee had shown a bit of surprise as he passed Tartarus in the entrance to the council chambers. They will be even more displeased once my plan comes to fruition, thought Truth as he laughed inwardly.
The jiralhanae knelt before Truth's throne as he came to the center of the chambers. "Rise, Tartarus. We have important matters to discuss."
"Noble Prophet of Truth, what would you have me do?" While Tartarus indeed used brute physical strength to rise to chieftain of the jiralhanae, he was also civilized enough to follow the appropriate customs when in the presence of the hierarchs. Something Truth appreciated.
"By now you have heard of the heretic kig-yar who has aligned themselves with the humans. The council has dispatched a fleet to hunt him and his followers down. But I fear this does not address the real issue. Tell me, Tartarus, what do you know of the kig-yar and their society?"
The jiralhanae laughed. "They are weak, greedy, but useful. Compared to the unggoy, they are far less devout, but their skills make them valuable enough to have a use beyond absorbing human bullets. Of their society?" Tartarus paused for a moment, thinking. "I have not been to their homeworld, but some of my jiralhanae have. They have many groups who operate outside the Covenant's laws; pirates, raiders, traders. As long as they only fight the humans or themselves we have seen fit to tolerate them."
"Indeed. And I fear that this tolerance has perhaps gone too far." Truth held up a hand. "I do not wish for the complete destruction of the kig-yar, as you say, they have their uses. But this heretic was a pirate of some kind before he was a heretic, and I grow concerned that their society will continue to breed heretics unless they are reminded of their place."
Truth handed Tartarus a datapad. "Here is information on six of the largest kig-yar pirate groups, including their leaders. I want you and your jiralhanae to cut off the heads of these groups. And those kig-yar too, if you so desire. Use whatever forces you wish, though be advised that you will not have support from the rest of the council." As if that hadn't been clear from the meeting taking place without the other hierarchs present. At least the honor guards that were still here were pious enough not to say anything, even if they realized the machinations going on.
"Indeed, noble hierarch, it shall be done. But, if we only remove some of them, won't..." Tartarus stopped, then laughed.
"Yes, the kig-yar will be too busy fighting amongst themselves to cause problems. Perhaps some of them will be intelligent enough to realize the benefits our Covenant provides. And you, Tartarus, will have proven your devotion to the Covenant once again."