Remnants

by General Rage

From Halo's ashes, a mismatched Alliance is born. UNSC soldiers now serve alongside both Batarian deserters and shifty Jackal Space Pirates. Now Shepard and Master Chief have to keep these strange bedfellows from killing one another before they can stop an emergent new threat to the galaxy. The Next Swashbuckling Chapter of the Wormhole Chronicles.

34. An Offer you Can't Refuse

Chapter 33: An Offer You Can't Refuse

Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.

-Michael Corleone

"We can't locate it, the signal's not here."

"Impossible, check again."

"I checked it three times already, the Normandy trace tracking isn't here!"

Shepard had probably gone over Caleb's memories a dozen times or so by now. While nothing really stood out as new, watching the whole thing in sequence yielded new thoughts in his mind every time. It didn't get really interesting until Cerberus encountered ONI of course, but the other bits of information still held an idea about who the Illusive Man's agents were. They were certainly hardliners, that was for sure. Even displaced in time, they held true to Cerberus' core tenets, humanity first and foremost. And humanity in this universe was in way deeper trouble.

He would almost admire their desire to help the human war effort against the Covenant, even in some small way. The problem was they were still here for their own agenda and Shepard had long known that, no matter what the man had claimed, the Illusive Man's interests did not truly align with his completely. He had proven that when he changed the objective of the attack on the Collector Home Base midstream. The recent doubts Shepard had about his final decision had been washed away a good while ago. More so when the Commander had learned from Liara about Cerberus' continued interest in chasing him down.

The Illusive Man was playing with fire when it came to Reaper tech already. He refused to stop doing so no matter how many times he got burned. Now his minions were no doubt after Forerunner relics, that was not going to end well for anyone. Shepard's trip to the future more or less presented a grave warning of what Cerberus would become if left unchecked in this universe. Stopping them was a priority.

Caleb's memories were proving crucial to a degree about who they were dealing with, assuming any of them were still alive within ONI. Caleb did after all lose all contact with them once he left Apekis V. However, it did prove how deep into ONI they had burrowed before that. As one of Caleb's later memories revealed, they had come up with a little plan with their new friends.

"The main goal is to disperse, far and wide enough that we can cover a good portion of the galaxy. We don't have the luxury of Mass Relays to get us around in the blink of an eye and when the time comes to act we have to be everywhere."

"We can help insert you into key problem areas, we'll come up with cover stories for your cover stories. Deep undercover operations, for everyone, even new recruits. You feed us information; we'll keep you informed on our end."

Surfing Caleb's memories for these specific moments wasn't easy at first. Taq needed to help rig up a virtual command console to scan and play stored memories within the Mind's Eye. Without a Forerunner AI to manage it, the task was more than a little difficult. DOT was trying her best to assist of course, but she was nowhere on the level of the entity that had once resided within the relic. As a result, a lot of the images were blurred or a bit more difficult to reconstruct. It probably didn't help that Caleb had been dying as he uploaded everything into it. At least they could make out more than a few ONI Board members, so that was something to go on concerning who was involved.

Not that any of this was a comfort to Haverson, who looked more and more betrayed every second he watched one of these memories. While the Lieutenant held no illusions over who he was working for, he honestly thought they wouldn't be so quick to align themselves with terrorists from another dimension. Especially, in his words, given how similar to the Insurrectionists they were in motive and deed.

"This is sickening," he stated plainly as he watched over Shepard's shoulder. "My whole career, the agency I worked with, completely compromised."

"To be fair, technically it was only compromised after that experiment with the crystal and the amplifier," Shepard reminded him. "They only travelled back in time because they got caught in it."

"Your attempt to shoulder the blame on this is admirable, Commander, but the ONI Agents and Officers involved in this made these decisions on their own," the Lieutenant insisted. "Let's not be so quick to absolve them of their actions because of a... quirk of fate."

Shepard tapped on the virtual console to bring up another memory of Caleb's.

"We've brought a number of new agents into the fold this past month. We're growing daily. We have access to every xenoarcheology site on radar. We need to utilize this I think, if we could get our hands on a Forerunner weapon, think of how quickly we could shift the balance of power. Here and back home."

They were ambitious, Shepard could give them that. Another of the agents, however, was seemingly more single-minded.

"Don't forget, Shepard will eventually show up here. We need to consider contingency plans. I know we all agreed not to act until the point of divergence is passed. But we still haven't really discussed what we intend to do when that happens. I know it's years away, but we can't just ignore it until then."

That was the grim truth though. Even though he knew about them now, the point of divergence was long past now. Nothing Shepard could do would change history and cause Cerberus to not exist in this universe anymore. By now, they knew they were past their original arrival date. They knew about the Normandy's arrival no doubt. They likely knew that some time after Reach fell they'd be able to act, which meant whenever they ran into Cerberus out here now it would be open season on them. They had advanced warning, yes, but that didn't really diminish the threat.

"So chances are they're going to continue their original mission by now," Shepard reasoned. "What is that likely going to be?"

He turned to the only person in the room that could really answer that, Miranda. She had been listening to everything, but was currently gazing out one of the windows in Taq's cabin, looking out onto the vast expanse of space. There was little doubt in Shepard's mind she was trying to glare hard enough into the black. The goal of which was that her far flung gaze would burn into the back of a Cerberus Deep Cover Operative's head.

"The Illusive Man would've likely wanted them to locate and retrieve the Normandy," she presumed. "He invested a lot into this ship and he would want it back. He'd want you back, one way or another. Moreover though, I believe that's just a secondary function of their mission. He'd have wanted them to assess the Covenant threat, discover means to combat them and, more over, to ensure humanity would be able to seize their technology for themselves. And then they'd turn it on Cerberus' enemies of course."

"And the UNSC?" Haverson asked.

"You'll be lucky if you really factor into any of that," Miranda forewarned. "Honestly, he'll probably order the Cerberus cells to grab whatever they can carry and extract back home as soon as possible. The Illusive Man will abandon something if he deems it a lost cause that detracts from his true interests. It's why he stuck with Shepard's revival for so long. He wanted a figurehead for Cerberus, someone who could be its new face, bring in more people to our side and lead the war against the Reapers. Well, so long as it was his way of course."

Shepard would've felt moved by the Illusive Man's confidence in his abilities if it didn't also make his skin crawl a bit. Haverson's opinion wasn't much better.

"So you're telling me, if they get word they'll just abandon us to the wolves?" Haverson questioned. "Some loyalty to his fellow humans. I guess humanity doesn't matter if it's in another universe."

"Don't be so sure they'll comply," Miranda cautiously suggested. "This cell has grown on its own, without contact from our home universe, for over two decades at this point. And all of Caleb's memories are from relatively early on in their consolidation and infiltration of ONI. Chances are things have greatly shifted over the years. They may have their own agenda now, completely separate from that of the Illusive Man's. They might not even want to return the Normandy to him. They might just take it for themselves."

"Makes sense," Shepard concurred. "We've seen how fast Cerberus' cells can fracture and split off into their own research and methods before."

"Exactly my point," Miranda replied with a nodded. "I don't know how this cell has evolved, how loyal they've remained to the Illusive Man's vision or what new agenda they've cooked up as a result. I can only be sure of this, they'd use any means necessary to achieve those ends. They pose a threat, no doubt in my mind."

Shepard's gaze turned back to the Mind's Eye. Miranda might not have been completely certain about what the Cerberus cell within ONI was planning, but he had a good idea what one component of it was. They knew about these powerful relics. They knew how incredible Forerunner technology was. They'd be after relics just like these treasures they were picking up. Maybe even far more dangerous things than these.

"When we report back, they're going to find out about Halo," Shepard stated plainly.

"It's inevitable," Haverson confirmed. "We debrief Lord Hood and the Chiefs of Staff, ONI will know. And when ONI finds out, they find out. That includes everything we know about Halo and these relics."

"Well they can pry them from my cold dead talons," Taq declared, scampering back to the main group as she stood up from her work desk. "I did not go through all this work just to have it stolen out from under me like this, not when we're so close."

Haverson sighed, not appreciating the detour in the conversation that Taq was inviting.

"Yes, Taq, we know," the Lieutenant groaned. "Your little treasure hunt is almost over. All well and good, but there are for more pressing matters to consider."

"Until you stumble onto these Cerberus folks you're so worried about in the wild, you can't be sure of anything concerning their intent," Taq informed him. "Only that they're bad news. Which, frankly, is not exactly a unique development. We still have the Covenant, the Syndicate and Snarlbeak coming after us. One more potential threat isn't really going to change the dire straits we're in. But at the very least, we are only one relic away from basically having the means to deal with all of them."

"If this Astral Cutlass is even real," Haverson quickly interjected.

Taq gave the Lieutenant a side eye with a quick motion of her claws about her beak. A clear sign that she wanted Haverson to shut up, fearing he could jinx the whole thing. She did not even want to entertain the idea that the Cutlass wasn't real at this point. Not even the slightest.

"Every point on the map has led us to a relic that are clearly all intertwined with one another in some fashion," she claimed. "As our little experiment with the Amplifier proved and this little Mind's Eye has."

"What are you talking about?" Haverson asked. "We've only tested the Amplifier with the Crystal."

Taq face suddenly a beamed a scholarly grin.

"Ah, but as our dying techhead geezer friend has proven, there is a connection," the kig-yar replied confidently. "He took his memories and uploaded them to the relic. What does that remind us of?"

"The Chronicler," Shepard spoke up. "The Voice that almost turned Tali insane when it infected her mind."

Taq snapped her talons together and pointed to the Commander.

"Exactly," she confirmed. "It is plain to see, that these relics have some kind of connection to one another. It is why the Amplifier's map is lead us to each of them. I fully believe at this point that once they are reunited, they will show us the way to the Astral Cutlass."

"I would not hedge the future of Earth's war effort on a Jackal Sea Shanty Legend," Haverson reiterated once more, as he did every time the Cutlass ever came up. "Now we will find this final relic, I assure you on that, but I am not about to go to Holland and Whitcomb to argue that we should plan out our mission parameters around the recovery of a space pirate version of Excalibur! Not when we're dealing with something far more real and dangerous. I'm not just talking about Cerberus either, but about the Covenant and the fact that, if Shepard's intel from the future is correct, they are planning an assault on Earth as we speak."

Shepard hadn't forgotten. They were still trying to find leads on this Covenant attack. Cortana had been attempting to locate it in the Ascendant Justice's records, but she could find nothing. It was likely that intelligence had been scrubbed before they managed to take the ship, if it was in there at all. They needed to locate a Covenant comm buoy, or array or find a ship with nav data that would point to where this invasion was launching from. For now though, Taq saw fit to remind them how they even knew about this upcoming attack in the first place.

"You wouldn't even know about that if we hadn't been doing that little experiment on these relics," she reminded them all. "If you don't want to believe in the Cutlass, fine. But at the very least acknowledge that I've been right so far about this stuff. That these relics could in fact shift the entire balance of your little war."

"And what does that mean to you?" Miranda asked. "You haven't exactly committed yourself to anything beyond these relics, same as Zek."

Taq shrugged, acknowledging the statement but she was quick to add to it.

"I can't say I particularly like the idea of the Covenant wiping out an entire species based on a bunch of religious dogma bullshit," she confessed. "Is it so hard to believe I wouldn't mind tipping the scales in the underdog's favor just a bit... while also getting paid for it."

The assorted humans gave the Jackal a look of indignant annoyance.

"Hey, I'm kig-yar," she reminded them. "Money is always going to be important to me. It's just this time, I get paid in service to the cause of you not dying. And a kig-yar weapon being the cause of the Covenant getting their ass kicked? Well that's just a nice bonus."

"Well it's better than Zek's non-committal stance," Haverson conceded. "But it's still not worth it chasing legends and myths right now when we have a Covie invasion on the horizon. We need to deal with these threats accordingly. Relics, Covenant Attack on Earth and getting home to deal with Cerberus among other things. That's what I'm going to tell the Colonel and Admiral."

Taq let it go seemingly at this point. Why keep pressing a matter that was only going to prove unproductive? Besides, they were headed to this final relic now. Nothing was going to change that. Besides, Shepard agreed with Haverson. At least in the terms of what they needed to deal with. That Covenant attack on Earth couldn't have been far off by now. They needed to cut it off at the pass before it got any further.

The conversation had seemingly brought up another subject though.

"Where is Zek anyway?" Miranda asked. "You'd think he'd want to know more about Cerberus, given what Shepard learned about what happens in the future."

"Don't ask me, I'm not his mother," Taq scoffed. "Besides, you're giving him too much credit. Zek never thinks that far ahead on anything. Let alone backstabbing time-displaced terrorists."

Taq wasn't exactly wrong. Even after being told what happened to Zek in the alternate future when he first encountered Cerberus, Zek had never really seemed all that concerned. He seemed to think just knowing not to trust them averted that possible future anyway, so he was safe from them. Shepard wasn't sure Zek had no ability to think that far ahead though. Mostly it seemed like the pirate didn't want to be bothered by the uncomfortable realities said future presented him.

"He's probably off doing some scheming underhanded side venture," Haverson presumed. "That or goofing off, but I'm going with the former."

"Still have suspicions about what happened down on the colony?" Shepard asked. "You could've asked Maisey directly about it if you really wanted to know."

"I don't have suspicions, Shepard," Haverson corrected. "I know for a fact Zek and his crew were pursuing their own agenda. Asking Maisey about it would've been redundant. Nevertheless I'm going to suss out his plan one way or another."

"If I might interject a bit," Taq spoke up. "Whatever Zek is doing probably isn't something that is going to affect you much. Trust me, once he has what he wants out of this partnership, that being the relics and perhaps the Cutlass, he'll just leave. It's how he's always operated. One way another, he'll be out of your hair soon."

Haverson adjusted himself proper and accordingly in response to Taq's suggestion.

"Respectfully, ma'am, Zek's self-serving nature is more concerning to me because his actions are potentially harmful to more than a single person," he explained dutifully. "I'm not worried about the pirate cutting and running so much as I'm concerned how much he'll wreck in the process before he does."

"Zek is hardly perfect," Shepard said, interjecting himself once more in an attempt to mediate the conversation. "I won't deny that he isn't... extremely frustrating. But he and his crew have proven to be beneficial allies. Hell, half my crew were almost exactly as trustworthy as him at one point. Taq's past not withstanding, I still think there is a chance for him to surprise you all. To all of us in the end."

Haverson scoffed a bit under his breath.

"Your faith in people is admirable, Commander," he complimented cautiously. "I wish I could share it as freely as you do. But Zek surprising us is the last thing I want."

---

The bowels of the Fallen Serpent wasn't a place you normally went to unless you needed to get into the cargo hold or go up through into the maintenance sections. However, that just meant it had less foot traffic. It also meant fewer reasons for a person without authorization would be down here, namely prying eyes and visitors. So that was where Zek and Retz set things up, clearing out a section of the cargo and maintenance rooms to create their own little sugar mill. It had been here for a while, ever since they started fabricating sugar from various chemical compounds. Now though? They had sugarcane, enough to start their own farm down below with artificial sunlight and hydroponics to help it grow. Now they were truly in business as the assembly line of kig-yar and unggoy harvesting and processing the sugarcane could attest.

For a good while now they had been using the artificial sugar to better refine their product, which was essentially candy. Lollipops mostly, but also tiny chewables and gummies. All recipes they had gotten from deep dives into the human archives on both the UNSC and Normandy's internal networks. It was all they needed, just a little sugar was enough to give a kig-yar a rush. The only hard part was setting up the various chemistry stations to refine and manufacture the products. There were a few kig-yar who knew their chemistry, but they still needed the equipment. That required bringing in the unggoy. Their reliance on methane for both survival and even recreation meant they had the materials that could assist in manufacturing the candy. Getting them to agree required even more concessions to their status aboard the ship, and that was even before they started making demands on their own.

It was a cramped, barely lit, impossibly stuffy working space. Unggoy and kig-yar working together in any prospect was always dicey. There were more than a few clashes at first that needed to be resolved. But the results were a steady stream of sugary treats and perfected processes. Now, after scraping by with substitutes to sugar, they actually had real sugarcane. Enough to keep a sustainable supply and demand for their burgeoning list of clients eager for the real stuff. A mere acre of sugar was plenty to get the ball rolling and it didn't take long for production to get into full swing.

As a result, the independent sound system Retz had set up to help boost morale, as well as prevent fights between kig-yar and unggoy from breaking out, was blasting out a celebratory song. A proclamation of victory and the start of phase two of their long-form "Sugar Empire" plan. The track chosen? "Pour Some Sugar on Me" by Def Leppard, because Zek thought it was both appropriate and funny.

Zek and Retz were currently overseeing their side project in person. While it was partly to check in on quality control, Retz also had updates on the operation he wanted to share with his friend. They were both in high spirits. After the past few days they had gone through, both with what happened at the colony and getting this side-venture properly started, it was nice to just review and let the victory sink in. Zek picked up one of the lollipops from the production mold and gave it a sniff.

"Excellent," he mused. "A proper marketable shape. Not just little packets of powder. This is way more appealing."

"That human vid about the chocolate factory certainly provided a ton of good ideas for products, that's for sure," Retz agreed. "I mean, the buzz is good and all, but flavor is always going to matter in the end."

"Have we figured out what the fuck a snozzberry is yet?" Zek asked curiously. "Cause I get the feeling that's gonna be a huge seller."

"Still searching, but we can substitute with our own flavors in case some clients don't take to human ones," Retz promised, picking up a small gummy worm from its mould. "I think these are going to hit big though. Everyone loves something that wiggles as it goes down."

"How are the orders coming?" Zek asked.

Retz called over an unggoy who brought a tablet with him. Taking it from his grubby mitts, Retz presented it to Zek with overwhelming pride. The tablet showed what looked to be an ordering catalogue with the name "Serpent Sweets" across the top of it, the lettering itself was inside a cartoonish snake logo.

"I have it set up on the undernet," he explained. "Filtered the passcode and address to some of our own buyers, encouraged them to share around. We've already got a hundred orders to fill and the creds are rolling in. They're so hooked on the sugar substitute that the promise of the real thing is irresistible at this point."

"Hey this is some professional shit here," Zek laughed as he grabbed the tablet himself. "Who set this up?"

"The unggoy themselves, if you can believe it," Retz explained. "They are actually quite capable of undernet site building. Although I did help them a bit, given my previous job lent me such access to it. Unggoy are fast learners after all."

"Cool, it's almost like we're a legit business," Zek laughed. "I guess the unggoy really want to earn that ration raise of theirs. Hey, think if we spend extra creds on some choice methane for them, they'll let us paint them orange? You know so they can match those little singing weirdos in the vid?"

Retz looked to the unggoy who had given him the tablet, who did not look at all happy with the prospect of being painted. Apparently, even the promise of high-grade methane was not going to persuade them into degrading themselves for Zek's amusement. Not wanting to push the new found backbone of the gas suckers more, Retz decided to de-escalate things.

"I believe that's not in our best interests," he suggested. "We don't want to potentially advertise some of the product is made by unggoys after all, painted or otherwise."

Zek just shrugged.

"Just as well," he sighed. "I don't exactly have that much paint in the budget. Alright, so how are we doing on distribution?"

Retz led Zek over to the packaging area where fellow kig-yar were loading up the product into little metal containers which were then loaded into probe pods.

"Ejecting these out of the garbage and waste disposals remains undetected," Retz assured. "We then rocket them off to pre-coordinated destinations for dead drop points. The client picks them up, transfers the secondary payment to our account to unlock the package and then we're square."

"We making sure they're not cheating us out of the secondary?" Zek asked.

"The detonation device inside the locking mechanism will destroy the package and its contents if they attempt to open it by any other means," Retz assured. "If they want their fix, they have to pay and making sure they have to pay twice to confirm delivery and receiving means we get creds coming and going no matter what."

"And there is no way for the packages to be traced back to us?" Zek questioned once more. "You are absolutely sure about this?"

Retz nodded and picked up one of the probes.

"There is nothing in this thing that could be used to track down the fleet," he promised. "No codes, no navigational software, all of it is funneled through the undernet. Which is on a separate server, which goes to our personal backdoor account. We're gold, I keep telling you this."

"I just don't want any loose ends," Zek insisted. "After the shit we pulled on that colony and with one relic left to collect before we get to the big prize, we can't risk Snarlbeak tracking us down. We're too damn close, Retz. It's only going to get riskier once we're in striking distance of that Cutlass."

Not that Retz didn't agree, but the Astral Cutlass was still a ways off. They still had to worry about getting the last relic first anyway. Besides that, Retz was basing this entire distribution system off of what he learned while in the Syndicate. Dead drops and long distance cache deliveries were standard among agents. The Covenant hadn't cracked the system and he doubted Snarlbeak had either. Smart and wily as Old Scratch was, Zhoc wasn't going to break his sugar smuggling operation overnight. Even if he got his hands on one of these probes, he set the system up to alert him of potential shadow transactions slipping in something within the transfer that could track them down. Retz wasn't an amateur, he knew what he was doing.

"We'll worry about the Cutlass when we get there," Retz promised. "We gave Snarlbeak a black eye back there, he probably wasted a ton of his resources on that little invasion alone. Meanwhile, we're about to get a total windfall and a potential piece of his market share with our newest product."

Retz led Zek over to a new chemlab table, this one resembling more of distillery than the others. The kig-yar there was managing the heat and temperature before eventually turning a tap on the still. Liquid poured into a bottle which was quickly cooled in some nitrogen. After a moment or two, the pirate handed the bottle to Zek, who took a small swig. His eyes lit up suddenly as a smile rose along his beak.

"Holy shit, that's ichor but... fizzy and sweet!" He realized.

"The Baby Chorka might not have the same potency as the adults, but when you add sugar and carbonization into the mix, you get something truly spectacular," Retz proclaimed. "Humans call it a soda, its like those drinks in the vid sans the floating."

"It's so bubbly and coy," Zek stated, drinking a bit more.

"Yes, that's what gets you wanting to drink more," Retz explained. "The addictive properties of the sugar help as well."

"How delightfully insidious," Zek grinned. "How soon can we get this out to clients?"

"Soon enough, we're just working on the branding," Retz assured. "Chorka-Cola or Serpent Spritzzer?"

"Alter the flavoring a little, make two different batches," Zek suggested. "One heavier on the sweet and the other the fizz. Then we can market both!"

"Excellent, but we still need to consider supply," Retz warned. "The sugarcane is genetically altered so it grows fast, but we still need to ration out. Until we have a proper place to expand the crop of course."

"Once we have the Astral Cutlass we can claim a whole damn planet just to grow the stuff," Zek laughed. "We're going to be fucking swimming in creds, Retz. We are set for life, just as long as this little treasure hunt pans out."

That was the chief concern for Retz, that they were putting maybe a few too many of their eggs into the Astral Cutlass basket. If something went wrong or this sword didn't turn out to be what they thought it was, then they'd have to figure out a new means of financing this plan of theirs.

That probably meant working more closely with the humans and the UNSC. Not that the prospect was at all tantalizing to Retz, he didn't like the idea of being in a committed relationship with them anymore than Zek did. Mainly because it no doubt meant getting dragged back into the war. He got a taste of that recently down on the colony, he did not relish the idea of fighting the Covenant anymore than Snarlbeak again.

However, he also had to face reality. The UNSC were really their best bet for a potential partner. They had a working relationship. True, the humans didn't completely trust them, but they at least seemed to have accepted that they were both enemies of the Covenant.

Zek himself had talked about trying to find some sort of service they could offer the UNSC. Not war related, but something that would satisfy them and get them to leave them alone once their pirating ventures were properly re-established. Maybe smuggling them Covenant weapons? That could work and it would keep them at arms length to a degree from being full-blown engaged in regular combat.

However, Zek had been so focused lately on the Astral Cutlass, he had sort of neglected that fallback plan to a degree. Retz had been meaning to bring it up again, as an idea to start fielding at future meetings. Especially now, given that multiple people were very suspicious about what they were doing in their off time. Retz did not know how exactly Haverson, Shepard, Holland or Whitcomb would react if they found out they were running an illicit candy factory down here, but he suspected it would not be good. Zek believed if they used some of their creds from this operation to buy them weapons and materials from the black market, then they wouldn't care too much if they found out. Retz didn't believe they'd be that accommodating or forgiving though.

He would've brought this subject up to Zek again directly, but at that moment Retz's wrist comm began to chime. Something had pinged to his private messaging channel it seemed. Peculiar, perhaps it was a contact or a special delivery request. When he opened it in his private visor view screen though, he realized it was not related to their sugar smuggling. In fact, it was another matter altogether. One that he had been dreading. It was a single sentence with accompanying coordinates near to their current location. It was a very simple and direct message.

"Proceed or your fleet is forfeit."

He knew this was going to happen, ever since he had proven where his true allegiances lay. No matter, he'd deal with it. He always had before and he'd do so now. However, he'd have to be quick. They would not wait long before assuming the worst.

"Zek, I have to go," he declared.

"What? But I was going to sing about me being the candy bird to the troops and everything," Zek claimed. "It was gonna be awesome as fuck and-"

"Zek, I have to go," Retz reiterated firmly. "Something had come up and I have to deal with it. Now."

Zek's expression changed from confusion to grim understanding.

"Oh," he said, a look of concern on his face. "Is... are you going to-"

"They wouldn't have called me out just to kill me, but I still need to deal with it," Retz explained. "All the same, I need to be ready for anything."

Retz began to head out as Zek called out to him.

"Be careful, bud," he cautioned. "If you need me to pull you out of the fire-"

"It's alright, Zek," Retz promised. "Don't worry, I can handle this. I can handle them."

After all, he had been born into the Syndicate. He knew all their tricks. He knew they wouldn't expect him to walk right into a trap. This was something else. All the same, he needed to be ready for any possibility. That meant getting a few things together and making his way out to the coordinates quickly. Whatever his old family wanted, he was going to have to settle it quickly before they turned their sights back onto the fleet to flush him out.

---

Retz packed quickly. He didn't need much. A few hidden blades, some freshly recharged plasma pistols and his shield gauntlets. He'd then taken a Phantom down to the meeting place, a small moon the fleet was passing close to and he'd deal with whatever this was.

He wasn't sure why the Syndicate was setting up a meeting. He had his suspicions, perhaps they wanted to make a deal for the relics or maybe they just wanted to kill him after all. Who could say? When you dealt with the Syndicate there was no room to assume one thing or the other. That usually got you killed. It was better to just declare all possibilities as equally viable and prepare for all of them.

One thing was for sure, he wasn't going to go down without a fight nor did he intend for this to continue. He had already had to deal with the Syndicate forcing its way back into his life once already. Time to kick them to the curb for good. That or he would die down there. Either way, they wouldn't be his problem anymore.

Retz was all set to go when he headed for the door, only for Kasumi to be revealed on the other side. That was when Retz had realized, in all the excitement of getting the sugar smuggling off the ground alongside the dread of the Syndicate, he had forgotten. Kasumi and him always met for lunch at this hour, so of course when he didn't show up, she suspected something.

Great, now he was going to have to explain this to someone other than Zek.

"Ms. Goto," Retz greeted.

"So, packing for a little excursion I see," Kasumi observed, a wry smile on her lips.

"I apologize for not being around to swap heist and pirate stories today, but some things came up," Retz tried to explain. "And I need to take care of them post-haste. We'll have to do this another time."

"Do any of these last minute things that came up involve the fact the cargo hold has a bit of a security increase?" She asked.

Of course she'd notice that, Kasumi always noticed security. It was a giant neon sign in her eyes that screamed "Break into me, I'm valuable." At the very least though, she possessed this charming notion of "honor among thieves" so he wasn't worried about her spilling. Not that it mattered, Haverson was already onto them in some capacity. All that was preventing them from being discovered was shipmaster privacy privileges. Who knew how long that would last? Hopefully enough to earn a substantial profit.

"That is not your most pressing concern nor will it ever be," Retz promised. "If you insist in chatting, can we at least walk while we do it, I have little time."

Retz headed down the hall as Kasumi kept pace.

"So where are you headed off to, exactly?" Kasumi asked.

"Nowhere too far, I'll probably be back before you know it," Retz claimed.

"Mhmm, and the small arsenal with you? What is that, hunting gear?" She pressed.

"You can never be too careful out there," Retz claimed. "I mean, who leaves a spaceship without at least a few plasma pistols on hand?"

Kasumi was clearly not buying his attempts to put her off. That was mainly because Ms. Goto knew better than to take anything he said at face value anymore. It was most annoying really, but it did keep his deception skills sharp to have a lot of people suspect you of always lying. Not today though, his mind was far too preoccupied to come up with anything worth spinning that could fool the human.

That and he wasn't doing a good job hiding his nervousness.

"Is this something we need to be worried about?" Kasumi asked.

"If I leave quickly enough, maybe not," Retz informed her curtly.

"Just tell me straight, Retz," Kasumi pried with exceedingly increasing levels of exasperation. "Is this Zek related or you related?"

Retz stopped in his tracks at that.

"What does that mean?" He asked, a bit perplexed by the question's meaning.

"Because either this is a mess Zek has made that you need to fix or it has something to do with you," Kasumi explained rather succinctly. "That's the only two reasons you could be running off like this so fast."

"Fine, it's a personal matter then," Retz answered. "And it will remain so as long as I'm able to take care of it."

"It's the Syndicate isn't it," Kasumi deduced.

That did not stop Retz from continuing his walk to the hangar. Kasumi was inevitably going to figure it out, although he did expect her to be faster than that.

"Are they after Taq again?" Kasumi prodded as she walked behind him.

"I don't know," Retz replied. "I'm going to figure it out."

"And you're doing it alone?" Kasumi asked a bit confused. "Well that sounds pretty stupid."

"Taking someone else, anyone else, would be stupider," Retz informed her. "That includes you, no offense. But when someone asks you to come alone, they usually are very particular about that specific word. Right now, I do not want to find out the nature of that particularity."

After all, he didn't know what the parameters of this meeting were for the agent on the other end. If the Queens asked them to kill him on sight if he showed up with more people then that wasn't something he wanted to risk. He'd play this the best way he knew how, being smart about it. Not being half-cocked and cheeky like in some of Kasumi's heist vids.

"You realize it might be a trap, right?" She asked.

"Maybe, but the Syndicate doesn't usually do traps like this," Retz explained. "You're usually just killed in your sleep and then they make it look like a suicide."

"Charming friends you used to have there, Retz," Kasumi cheekily commented. "They sound very sociable."

"They were never my friends," Retz clarified, turning around to look back at her. "Friendship isn't a thing in the Syndicate. Friends are a liability half the time. Which is probably why they already thought I was compromised before everything went down. They knew I considered Zek a friend and that meant I had gone soft."

Kasumi nodded, acknowledging she understood.

"That's the thing though, you know how friends don't make you weaker," she noted. "That the whole togetherness thing is a lot more useful than always looking out for yourself. And yet..."

Retz knew instantly where this was going.

"No," he declared flatly, turning back around as he kept walking off.

"And yet," Kasumi continued unabated. "You and Zek are still clinging to this whole 'Looking out for Number One' mindset when it comes to this alliance we have."

"Yes, yes, selfish pirates who only care about the money and glory and the infamy, blah, blah, blah," Retz rattled off sounding so bored. "Is the Commander outsourcing his lectures to you now?"

"No, this is me," Kasumi assured him. "All me. Seeing Keiji again like I did put a lot into perspective. Namely about why it hurt so much to lose him."

Once again, that was just enough to give Retz pause. Keiji was a sore subject for Kasumi. She wouldn't bring him up without reason. The least he could do was hear her out.

"Being on your own, pulling jobs for yourself, yeah it was exciting," she admitted. "But it was only when Keiji came into my life that I actually felt the thrill had any meaning because I was doing it for more than just myself now. And I only ever really got that feeling again when... well, when I was helping Shep and the whole crew. We took down the Collectors, helped a lot of people. And yeah, it was harrowing beyond belief... but it felt good. It felt good to finally use my skills for someone other than myself. That's probably why I stuck around after the Collector Base blew up."

"Your point?" Retz asked, sounding a bit more sincere than previously.

"I'm just saying you and Zek being in it for yourselves won't be satisfying forever," she claimed. "I mean, frankly I think it gets you in plenty more trouble than anything else would. I mean, you running off into a potential trap, on your own, no back up, that's a recipe for disaster. And even if it all goes well, something tells me it's not going to end there and perhaps, just perhaps, it would be better if you had more than just one friend you could trust in on this."

Retz rolled his eyes a bit.

"The UNSC is hardly a friend I'm willing to trust," he claimed.

"And yet, here we all are," Kasumi observed, motioning to the ship around her. "You've gotten this far with them, what's preventing you from going all in? Is it really that you're scared they're going to be no better than the Covenant or is it something else you're worried about?"

"I've told you before, trust is more valuable than anything to a kig-yar," he reminded her. "It's why we don't hand it out to just anyone. If the UNSC weren't in dire straits, they would honestly not be so willing to endure this relationship. Zek and I are just realists, everyone is looking out for their own interests and once ours diverge enough from the UNSCs it will be best if we part ways to a degree."

Kasumi shook her head.

"After what I saw down there on that colony, with all those people and aliens with plenty of reasons to not trust each other, going back-to-back to keep the guy or bird or grunt beside them from dying, it's pretty obvious to me what would be best," she claimed. "My thieving skills helped Shep save the Galaxy. Think of what you pirates could do if you actually teamed up with the UNSC? You probably wouldn't have to worry as much about the Syndicate if they knew a bunch of Spartans were backing you up."

"A charming viewpoint, Ms. Goto, but of very little use to me now," Retz declared. "I understand what you are trying to do. Believe me, I'm not blind to it. Humanity is against the wall. You think that the more friends they have the better off they will be. For Zek it's a matter of not getting sucked back into a stupid war he wanted nothing to do with. For me, it's about hard reality. I not only don't see what there is to be gained by joining this suicidal war effort. It's just not a real priority for me. My priority is keeping Zek on track, keeping this ship in order and keeping the knives out of our backs. Frankly, I see at least a few problems maintaining that if we jump back aboard the War Wagon."

Retz kept walking; this was becoming a distraction.

"And honestly, I do not see anything that the UNSC could provide us that would be of use in fighting off the Syndicates' clutches," he declared. "Nor do I believe they are willing to offer anything. Nor do I even think most of them are worth it. At the end of the day, my fight isn't with the Covenant so much as it is with the oldest struggle of all life, survival."

"Survival is easier in a group though, from what I've heard," Kasumi prodded.

"This discussion is now over," Retz flatly declared. "If you do not want to risk the Syndicate potentially tearing this fleet apart looking for me. I need to go."

"Fine, and you're honestly positive you do not want me coming?" Kasumi asked. "Even incognito, just to watch your back. You don't trust me, even after all this time?"

Retz sighed, perhaps he was being a bit harsh at the moment. He was just under stress. He supposed he owed her some better parting words than his current terse tone.

"Ms. Goto, to a certain extent, I do trust you," he confessed. "I don't say that to many. But in all fairness to you, this is not something you can help with. The Syndicate is my problem to deal with, they have been for longer than I can remember. Gradually more and more people have been forced to deal with said problem and I would prefer if it did not come to that constantly. So if my insistence on doing this my way, however foolhardy it might seem, appears dismissive of your talents, it is not. It is me trying to resolve this matter without dragging more people into it than necessary. Sometimes, it's better to go it alone on things. And, if you wish to talk to me about trust, could you at the very least trust me with this one thing?"

Kasumi looked a bit skeptical at first, but eventually softened.

"Alright, I'll trust your judgment for now," she relented. "But are you sure there is nothing I can do for you about this from here?"

Retz gave it some thought, or at least half-heartedly pretended to.

"Would you be willing to eat my OSD drive full of confidential secrets that I keep inside my personal terminal?" He asked.

Kasumi raised her brow at that.

"Oh you could tear open my pillow and find the contact number of a special undercover operative that I have entrusted vital secrets to and gone to great pains to conceal over the years," Retz offered. "He has a family, but I'm sure he'll come running when you give him the code phrase 'The Worm is Burrowed into the Fruit Pie' over the private commlink."

"Okay, Retz, you can stop," Kasumi said, holding her head and trying not to laugh.

"I'm sure there are a few loose panels in my room that when pried off and put together will reveal the locations of various dead drops that might be vital to our survival," Retz insisted. "All of course if I don't come back in forty-eight hours."

"I should've never given you those spy novels," Kasumi chuckled warmly.

"No, you shouldn't have," Retz told her plainly. "But, all the same, thank you, Kasumi. I don't have many people in my life that would honestly show this much concern. It's a bit of weakness in you humans, but not entirely unwelcome. Regardless, there is nothing I need you to do for me while I'm gone."

Kasumi just nodded and allowed Retz to head to the lift that would take him down to the hangar.

"Just promise me one thing," Kasumi asked as he got inside. "Think about what I told you, even just a little."

"I find it surprisingly hard not to, Ms. Goto," Retz assured her.

He did think about Kasumi's words as he headed down to the hangar. Not because she was right, but mainly because what he had said had been true. Not many people, outside of Zek, had really shown such an amount of concern. Not even for his well-being, but about what was good foor him. No one in the Syndicate had ever given him that sort of consideration. Which made it hard to completely dismiss Kasumi's main point of their discussion. It didn't hurt to have friends. People who were there to look out for you. But Retz just couldn't see a reason for why he should look out for people who weren't friends, who had not earned his trust and who had made it very clear they weren't particularly interested in doing so.

He had to admit one thing about the UNSC though. At least meetings with Haverson, Whitcomb or Holland did not come with the potential, looming threat of termination that the Syndicate did. He didn't have to lug all this gear around for fear of the Spartans breaking his neck all of a sudden. A thought that lingered in his mind as he headed for the Phantom.

---

Retz landed the Phantom about half a mile away from the designated coordinates, enough time to get the lay of the land. It was a pretty barren moon, not much in the way of distinguishing landmarks. The cave system he was headed into was the only thing of note besides the rock formations. He hadn't seen much on the way in, no shuttles or anything. Most likely any transport was hidden or currently waiting for a signal to jump back in. That did not give him much information to go on.

Travelling deep into the underground, Retz kept his plasma pistols ready. He was not about to get jumped down here, not before sussing out whoever had set up this meet first. He could find no distinguishing marks or evidence of a larger group or an ambush of any kind. No traps, no hidden passages, nothing to suggest he was walking into a slaughter. The only thing that stood out was when he got close to the meet up, an energy shield of some kind.

Retz recognized it. This was a localized atmospheric shielding dome. Used to establish an atmosphere on a lifeless rock such as this moon. They were popular in archeological work and setting up colonies. There were a few still in operation back on T'Vao where his sub-species was from, although he only remembered it barely. He had not stayed on the asteroid long. This had clearly been set up for the meeting in question, no doubt so they would not need spacesuits to converse.

A proper face to face, a promising development. It suggested that whoever he was meeting actually wanted to talk. After all, why set up this thing if they just planned to kill him? Then again, they could just switch the thing off as soon as he took off his helmet. So he wasn't about to do that just yet. As he stepped into the energy shield, he walked into a large atrium within the rocky caverns. He then scanned the walls for any sign of his contact or potential ambushers. While he found nothing with his eyes, his audio sensory device in his headgear did pick up some faint breathing that was not his own.

They were already here, good. Time to get this over with.

"Alright, I came," he announced. "Let's get this started already. I'm sure we all have places we'd rather be."

There was no response for a bit. Why would there be? The Syndicate agent always chose when he spoke to you. Your voice or demands didn't matter unless it was to tell them that you had done your job. As always, he'd have to push a bit more to get what he wanted.

"You wanted to talk, so let's talk," he declared. "If you're just lining up a shot or something now, get it over with and stop wasting my time."

His eyes darted about, trying to see if he could spot a scope's glint or a glow of pink. Nothing at first, but he did finally get a response. He would've relaxed a bit, if the voice weren't so familiar.

"Oh, Retz, always so informal," it replied in a throaty sultry tone. "Can't even be bothered to say please or extend any polite greeting."

At that moment Retz groaned, he knew who this was. The voice was unmistakable in its candor and acidic bite. Of all the agents, of course they sent her.

Jumping down from an outcropping and landing just a few feet away with the grace and poise of a bird of prey, was a kig-yar in a camo cloak they quickly brushed back. They wore silver metal plating covering their beak and forehead, with dark blue feathery quills pointing out the back. Their combat harness was stealth oriented, lightly armored but packed to the gills with needle daggers and gas grenades. Probably a few other wonderful little toys as befitting an accomplished agent. And of course, there was the smirk, the self-satisfied "I'm better than you" aura that constantly hung in the air whenever she was around. She hadn't changed at all, Retz knew it.

"Zix," he scowled, clearly unpleased to see her.

"Hello to you too, Retz," she replied, feigning hurt feelings.

Retz continued to grimace and kept his fingers close to his plasma pistol's holster. Zix laughed when she noticed, in her usual giggle of overbearing superiority. She let her cloak go as she strode across the cavern's dusty floor.

"Please Retz, we both know if I wanted you dead you would be dead," she claimed. "And as you can see, I'm not wearing a helmet. So you can take off yours and stop acting like this is a standoff. Really, paranoia does not suit us. We're above that."

Retz huffed at the notion, a hypocritical statement if he had ever heard one from the Syndicate. For the sake of getting this done, he unlatched his helmet and tossed it aside. If only so she could see how unenthused he was at her appearance here.

"The Syndicate thrives on paranoia, it's how it has survived," he reminded her. "You're not above it, you swim in it."

"Ah, there it is," she declared. "The savage comebacks, the sarcastic drawl, I missed that about you, Retz. You always had such a way with words."

"Stuff it, Zix," he snarled. "I honestly couldn't care less about what you missed."

Zix put on a mock expression of sadness and wounded emotion.

"Oh, after all this time, no kind words for a fellow Agent of the Syndicate? Your family?" She asked, pretending to be hurt in some horrible gut-wrenching way. Before quickly wiping away the sorrow and replacing it with smugness. "Oh right, of course, you decided to abandon us. Turned turncoat, as it were. Decided that drunk of a shipmaster was somehow worth a damn."

"Zek is a drunk, but at least he's one I can trust," Retz informed her. "And he's been more of a brother to me than anyone in the Syndicate has been."

"So touching," Zix replied, rolling her eyes. "Friendship melts the cold assassin's heart. It almost makes you want to puke rainbows and flowers. You gave up everything for one pathetic little shitstain common thug who got lucky because his famous daddy up and died. Is being his second fiddle truly a step up from us?"

"As if you could ever understand, Zix," Retz spat back, unflinchingly. "You've always been content to be the good little puppet of our masters. Only reason you got all the primo jobs."

"I got them because I'm the best," Zix answered back with a snort. "You used to be a close second to that. Honestly, what the hell happened to you, Retz?"

"I woke up," he answered plainly. "Realized what I was to them. Got out with whatever shred of my morals I had left. Before I became you."

Zix could only laugh uproariously at that.

"Morals? Please!" She wheezed. "Retz... you have no morals. We both know that. We weren't born with any. You honestly expect me to believe that idiot helped you find them when he's no better?"

This was getting tedious. He had not come here to be judged by the Syndicate, at least not by Zix of all birds. He was just about ready to terminate this and perhaps her if he had to.

"We can stand here talking about how much we hate each other all day, but I'm already bored of it," he informed. "What. Do you. Want?"

"Oh, it's not about what I want," she assured, calming down from her laughing fit. "It's about what the Syndicate wants. What the queens want. You know that. You've known it since you helped kill our infiltration team to protect your idiotic captain's ex."

"If you want the relics, you're going to need a lot more negotiation power than me," Retz stated bluntly. "Zek and our new allies aren't going to just hand them over for my life, assuming that is your plan."

Zix shook her head, looking rather disappointed as she did.

"You really think the Syndicate is that inflexible?" She questioned with a perched brow. "Retz, you know as well as I that the Queens value the status quo more than absolute power. Tradition must be preserved, at all costs. And frankly, we're fine with your moron layabout of a Shipmaster keeping the relics. Even more so if the humans hold onto them. What matters is the prize at the end... who wields it."

Of course, the Astral Cutlass. That was the only thing anyone really cared about at the end of the day. Retz, however, did not buy that the Syndicate weren't concerned about Zek getting ahold of the sword. After all, that was a potential power shake up they couldn't handle. Especially given how little they respected him.

"If you're here to convince me to keep Zek from getting the Cutlass-"

"Please!" Zix groaned in exasperation. "If he was anything like his father, we'd be concerned. But Zek is far from the ambitious brigand Dreadfeather was. He could be big king shit of fucklord mountain and the Queens still would only regard him as an annoying little gnat. He's not the problem. The real problem is one we both share, the other competitor in this little treasure hunt race."

"Snarlbeak," Retz concluded, not entirely surprised. "You're aware of his intentions then?"

"To force the Clans to swear fealty to the Covenant under his leadership?" Zix mockingly questioned aloud. "To avenge his fallen sister and all the perceived slights the galaxy threw at her? Of course we know, we have people among his. It's not hard to figure out what Zhoc wants with the Cutlass. It simply must not happen. I think we can at least agree on that."

"For once, we do," Retz concured. "Although probably not for the same reasons."

"Protecting the traditions and sovereignty of the kig-yar pirate way isn't enough for you?" Zix asked with a disgruntled grimace.

"If you still believe that garbage scow load of shit, that's not my problem," Retz informed her. "The Queens care about maintaining their control over the clans, everything else is just propaganda to keep them in line."

"The Syndicate and its queens are what has kept piracy alive for our people," Zix unwaveringly replied. "Their power comes from that tradition, that sovereignty, their guidance and control. It is one and the same, no matter how much you wish it weren't true. Their methods have worked, sorry if they're not up to whatever it is you think passes as a personal code for yourself."

Same argument as always, same deluded fanaticism. He wasn't gong to get anywhere going down this road and it was pointless to persist. Retz decided to ease her concerns and end this.

"Well you don't have to worry about Snarlbeak getting his talons on the Cutlass," Retz assured. "We're one relic away from getting its location and on our way to it now. If you just stay out of our way, you can rest assured the sword will be ours, Zek won't raise a claw against you and your queens can go back to sitting on their backsides playing mindgames with the other clans for eternity. There, we done?"

Retz started to turn to leave, when Zix called out.

"We know all that, and congratulations on getting this far, but that's why I'm here," she spoke up. "Someone beat us all to the last relic."

That halted Retz suddenly.

"What?" He asked, turning his head back.

"The Covenant are at the location of the last relic, in force," Zix explained. "Your fleet is heading into a slaughter."

Retz narrowed his vision.

"I don't believe you," he told her. "How would you even know that?"

"We've been tracking you and Snarlbeak's little squabble for a while," she stated. "We have people within his organization, remember? And the relics have seemingly been in relatively close proximity to each other. At least sector-wise anyway. So we did some research and discovered that the Covenant are performing a massive archeological operation at the site of a dwarf planet beneath an aging star. It was within the sector parameters of your previous engagements. So it didn't take long to put two and two together. After all, how do you think we found you? We backtracked to the most likely course you would take to get there and... here we are."

That was tantalizing evidence and more than a bit disconcerting. Especially the part where the Syndicate tracked them down using information they got from their spies among Snarlbeak. After all, how long would it therefore take Zhoc to figure something out along similar lines if true? Still, it wasn't enough for him to believe Zix so easily.

"I need more proof than that," he said.

"Fine," Zix declared, tossing out a small holoprojector disk to the ground. "See for yourself."

The disk activated, revealing a Three-Dimensional model of what looked to be a cracked open dwarf planet, debris from its surface scattered about in a makeshift ring of rocks. And orbiting the devastated tiny planetoid was an armada of Covenant ships. Corvettes, Battecruisers, Assault and Super Carriers, all circling the Dwarf Planet and securing a tight perimeter around it. Just looking at it from face value, Retz estimated it was about twice the size of the fleet that Snarlbeak had brought in to attack New Teteocan. They had only been able to hold that taskforce off because of the Colonists' repurposed Forerunner weapon. They didn't have that anymore, making this situation all the less in their favor.

"Impressive little gathering, huh?" Zix questioned smugly. "Just a little over a quarter of what I hear the Covenant take to glass human worlds. Now I know what you're thinking, I doctored this. Well you can believe that and just keep heading straight into that little welcome party... or you can hear out my offer."

Retz did briefly consider this was fake, but he couldn't say for certain. The Covenant had been itching to get that relic off of Reach after all. From what he had heard in the after-action report, they had incinerated a ton of their own just for slightly endangering the crystal's recovery. If the last relic was here then this level of overkill was in line with those methods. He still cringed all the same as the next words exited his beak.

"What are you proposing?" He asked grimly.

"Simple," Zix began. "The Syndicate can thin the herd a little. We've pinpointed highly strategic supply lines and production centers nearby that the Covenant can't afford to lose. We will hit them with enough ferocity that the Sangheili Shipmasters cannot refuse the call to action if it were sent their way. And we'll make sure they're the ones that get it. With any luck, it will halve their forces guarding the planetoid as they set out to defend their warrior honor and what not. Enabling you and your human friends a better chance at acquiring the Relic."

"Of course," Retz said scoffing "You won't engage the Covenant directly, but you send them on a wild snarkguk chase while WE do the hard part."

"It will work though," Zix pointed out. "You know it will."

It would likely work, how well was the real question. He knew that would be what the UNSC would ask and for once he wouldn't blame them. The Syndicate didn't particularly care if they succeeded, that much was obvious. If they did, Snarlbeak and the Covenant would not have the relics. If they failed, well, the Covenant would likely end up with all four of said relics. Then, using their network of spies, the Syndicate would potentially find a way to procure the relics themselves. What really mattered in the end was the cost of doing business and Retz knew that this sort of favor came with a price tag. The Syndicate didn't trick fleets into abandoning their holy missions for free after all.

"What do you want?" Retz asked, the acidic tone practically singing his tongue.

"Right to the point," Zix proclaimed proudly. "As I said, the competition has to be thinned, Snarlbeak can never be allowed to obtain the Astral Cutlass. We must take him out of play."

Retz laughed mockingly at the notion.

"You want us to kill Snarlbeak? Really? You're hiring us for a hit?"

Zix looked insulted and disappointed at the insinuation.

"Killing Snarlbeak is too unpredicatable as a catalyst," she informed him with a scowl. "Honesty, your imagination is seriously lagging under the wing of that idiot friend of yours. We can't have a massive pirate clan like his warring with itself in a power vacccum. We don't have anyone close enough to actively take his place. Not with the Ibies he's surrounded himself with. Besides, we don't need to kill Zhoc, we need to hurt him, wound him, cripple him. Damage his business enough and he'll have to call off the treasure hunt. He can't afford to chase legends if he can't pay his people on time. It's the oldest cold hard fact of business in the book."

"Good luck with that, Old Scratch has a firm lock on Ichor, drugs, weapons, gambling and slaves throughout several sectors," Retz reminded her. "Crippling him would take months, years."

"Not if you hit him in the right place," Zix assured. "We've been tracking his operations for years now. And we've discovered his main production and distribution facility. A whole private planet to himself where his Chorka are milked, his drugs are harvested, his stolen weapons are stockpiled, his creds laundered and his slaves whipped. All before being shipped out to the Galaxy at large. His main hub of supply and demand, the lynchpin in his entire logistical apparatus."

Zix produced another holographic data disk, twirling it between her talons.

"It's all here, a planet in the Rippermaw Nebula," she explained. "He calls it his Central Hub World, his men call it The Plunder Nest. Not to his face though, Zhoc's overly business centric psyche doesn't allow for fun it seems."

"Good for you, do it yourselves then," Retz declared flatly. "You seem to have everything you need for this kind of job already."

"Oh but we don't," Zix clamed. "Because any attempt to do the damage we need to the place would require... well... exhausting every resource we have left inside his organization. And why would we expend those resources? Especially when we know about you and your little band of humies in big killer robot suits who murder kig-yar by the ship load last I heard."

Now it made sense, Retz realized. Besides the fact that their little fleet of pirates, batarians and UNSC soldiers were expendable, the Syndicate was banking on the legend of the Spartans to get this done. They had no doubt heard of the fabled "Demons" who cut down Covies like they were weeds. If they could do that to the ever accomplished Sangheili enough to earn such a fearsome title, then Snarlbeak's pirates surely would be no problem.

The problem was Retz knew the Syndicate. How every move was calculated. How every offer was mixed with something that benefitted them. How they never gave more than what they got in return. They weren't fair transactors. They were users. And while Retz could not totally claim to be much better than them, he knew that of all the kig-yar, of all the space pirate clans, you could never trust the Syndicate.

Even if that disk held every little piece of information they might need for this job, something was being held back. Something that they stood to gain on or achieve, something they'd use against you, backstab you or leave you holding the bag on. At least when he and Zek tricked the UNSC into doing stuff for them, they always got a fair deal in return. At least that's how Retz saw it. They were devious, but they weren't outright malicious. Deceitful, of course, but never ill-intended in those machinations.

You could never say the same about the Syndicate.

There was also the very simple, obvious fact, that this was fucking suicidal and for very little gain. They were being tasked with destroying Snarlbeak's main hub of criminal activity, the very center of his empire's logistical nervous system. For what? The possible chance that MAYBE there would be fewer Covenant ships around when they went for the Relic proper? That Snarlbeak wouldn't seek retribution? That he wasn't as crazy dangerous obsessed with this hunt for the cutlass as the Syndicate seemed to believe?

It was insane and there was no way in hell that Whitcomb, Haverson, Holland or Shepard would EVER take up the task. And frankly, were he in their shoes, he wouldn't either. Hell, he'd discourage them himself. This was stupid, a terrible deal, not worth the gain.

"You're out of your gourd, Zix," he declared. "You and the Queens. This is just going to put a bigger target on our backs and get a lot of us killed so you can bring Snarleak to heel. Even if you could manage to get even a quarter of those ships to take your bait it's not worth it and I seriously doubt you could bring their numbers down to half."

"So little faith in the people who raised you," Zix sighed. "I should've suspected. You've grown... far too cautious and soft taking care of that drunken oaf."

"Even if I thought any of this was a good idea, the humans I work with would have to sign off on it," Retz told her, ignoring her taunts, refusing to let her get under his skin. "And they won't, they'd sooner risk trying to extract the relic covertly than attempt this insanity."

"I thought you'd say that, well, we all did actually," Zix claimed smugly. "We reasoned by now you've probably strained the relationship with your human friends. So we figured it might interest them to know a few things about Zhoc's operations. The human weapons he's hoarding, the tech of theirs he stole... the colonists he has enslaved."

That at the very least got Retz's renewed attention.

"Colonists? You mean to say he has human slaves?" He asked, trying to see clarification from the sickening grin of his former associate.

"Plucked from worlds the Covenant glassed that didn't get away in time, or from ships that strayed too far from home and safety," Zix claimed. "Human weapons are a valuable commodity, so are bodies. You'd be surprised some of the things people would pay to have their own little hairless primate to play with."

Retz wasn't completely unaware. An endangered species was always a hot commodity and humans were a very endangered one with the Covenant gunning for them. He didn't like thinking about what the poor wretches were suffering under Zhoc's overseers, or worse, the people he sold them to. Maybe it was his and Zek's disdain for the practice, his memories of basically being a slave to the Syndicate's control, or the Covenant's contract. Or maybe his time among the humans had made him a bit more amicable to them. All he knew was hearing that they were among the slaves Snarlbeak was keeping was more than a bit unnerving.

"How long has he been doing this?" He asked. "Trafficking slaves is difficult enough; human ones are even more dangerous. The Covenant considers them contraband, last I heard, no better than exotic animals that might be carrying diseases that need to be destroyed."

"Well Zhoc's been at it long enough," Zix assured grimly. "He has sizable menagerie of the naked monkeys running around there if the last few reports are correct. I can provide estimates, should make for some interesting reading."

Retz imagined that it would be for the UNSC, but as tragic as it was, he didn't think it was enough. Holland was cautious enough about this treasure hunt, Haverson moreso. Their time with the New Teteocan colonists probably had helped remind the UNSC what they were fighting for, but it was still a substantial risk to take. Especially for what would seem like a handful of humans compared to the galaxy at large full of them that they still needed to protect.

"You're still short-selling us," Retz declared. "This might ignite some savior complexes, but it's not tangible enough to be of use in the end. That and it's going off of your word still, which isn't worth that much to be honest. Especially not among humans and not filtered through me."

"As if we'd ask you to do a job this big without sufficient payment," Zix said, her smug grin still broad as ever. "We have a third piece of information we're willing to part with, one that the humans might find most pressing. Specifically, intel about a forthcoming assault on a very important human planet. Something called... E-Arth."

Earth, she meant Earth. Now that was curious. There was no way that Zix or the Syndicate had heard about that through a grapevine of spies. They only knew about it because of Shepard and the Master Chief's unexpected trip to the future. While there, they learned the Covenant were amassing to assault Earth very soon. That they were readying a fleet for an invasion of massive proportions.

Retz did his best to keep his composure. This was possibly a bluff, a lucky guess... or they actually had something. He couldn't tip his hand here. He needed to be careful.

"Say I buy that," he asked. "If that's even something they'd believe. How would you know about it?"

"Because we have people throughout the Covenant," she responded rather annoyed. "You know that already. We keep tabs on everything they're doing that we can reasonably discern. A massing of ships, potentially a threat to our own flotilla? Of course we'd be on top of that, you'd have been aware of it if you were still trusted enough to be kept informed."

He doubted that, but it sounded like the Syndicate didn't know that they knew about an attack. He could use that. He had an angle he could work now. One he could get more info out of if he played his cards right here. Zix was an arrogant, pompous, smug agent, secure in her superiority, but she wasn't stupid. He respected her guile, if not who she was. If she and the Syndicate did know something about this invasion, he needed to be sure. If not the UNSC's sake alone, then for the sake of the possible partnership Zek still had his eyes on forging.

"I need something more concrete than that, Zix," Retz told her bluntly. "What proof do you have that this Earth is even the target of this invasion fleet? Assuming it even exists."

"That intel is part of accepting the mission," Zix told him.

"So we go through all that danger, risk our asses to cripple the operations of the galaxy's biggest space pirate all on the assumption you have some skinny on an enemy fleet?" Retz asked pressingly. "And then what? The information you give us proves to be utter bullshit? We did all that for a phantom threat and no doubt piss off Snarlbeak even more for the trouble?"

Zix groaned, seemingly taking Retz's bait.

"Fine, you need some proof then?" She asked. "Here."

She pulled out another data chip and slotted it into the holoprojector device. It revealed several fleet redistribution orders. Battalion strength, vehicle numbers, transports, battlecruisers, assault carriers, all being shifted from current engagements or stand by into active mobilization. There were no final coordinates, just clear evidence that these forces were all being coalesced together. At least that gave them an idea about what Earth was facing, the UNSC leaders would like that. That still wasn't good enough for Retz though, he needed to get more.

"That still doesn't prove they're headed to this Earth specifically," Retz informed her. "Or that it's even important."

"What? Have your new friends not given you a list of valuable assets they want to hire you on to defend?" Zix asked. "'Not very enterprising of you. Haven't even made them an offer for a security contract have you?"

"In case you forgot, our species is part of the Covenant and are utilized in assassinations and sabotage by them," Retz reminded her. "It's not exactly a position that inclines people to trust you with sensitive military information. Moreso when you are a pirate who they are even more predisposed to not trust period."

Zix shrugged, taking the deflection at face value it seemed.

"Alright, we figured as much, if you flip to the next file you'll see an encrypted message we pulled off the battlenet," she explained. "'It's very clear about their intent."

Retz took a look, flipping to the next screen. There was indeed an encoded conversation, bearing the standard Battlenet signifiers of authentication. It was partial, but it did have some relevant information. It was a pair of fleetmasters, speaking to one another about readiness, exchanging data and comms codes for unit cohesion purposes. There was some talk about enemy defenses and the expectation of resistance.

What stood out there were their clear references to Earth and what they knew about it. They said it was apparently an important world, that it would be the culmination of the holy mission to exterminate the human plague. It wasn't clear if they knew it was the human homeworld, but they believed it was at least key. There was nothing about how they discovered it, but there was one part of the exchange that was telling.

"How long until we are ready?"

"The mobilization will take another week and three days, perhaps less if other fleets are re-allocated from other fronts. This offensive after all will take precedent."

They had a little over a week before Earth was facing certain annihilation. That wasn't good, not at all. And it was probably the best he was going to get from Zix, she'd never reveal the location of the mobilization point, assuming that she had precise coordinates. That was something he could ask about, what she had left to offer.

"As you can see, your human friends don't have a lot of time or options," Zix pointed out smugly.

"And I assume you can help with that?" Retz asked, sounding unconvinced, hiding his true concerns.

"We have a name for where they're mobilizing and specifics about its defensive capabilities among other things," Zix explained. "But only if you take the job and complete it."

The specific wording raised Retz's suspicions.

"A name of where they are," he noted. "Not EXACTLY where it is?"

"You're lucky you're getting this much," Zix informed him. "You know how hard it is to smuggle this level of classified intel out of the Covenant's battlenet and onto our secure servers without being spotted? Not easy, anything more and we risk basically expending all our resources among the Covenant. Agents we've had embedded for years, decades even. It's a name, if you can get into the Covenant Battlenet yourselves, specifically at the Covie dig site you're heading to anyway, you can search for it. Chances are, that little fleet has gotten orders to join the invasion forces once it has secured the relic. Add some extra firepower to their offensive. So something would be on the local file."

"Possibly," Retz corrected. "It could possibly be on there, you can't be sure."

"It's better than nothing," Zix argued back. "You can take your chances stumbling across the matching information contained in that packet, or you can at least whittle down your suspect pool a bit."

At this point Retz was still favoring the former option, because it still required them surviving a suicide mission in more ways than a few. He still had no idea why Zix and the Syndicate were even coming to them with this job. What possible reason could they have for it?

"You're still asking us to land and attack a no doubt heavily fortified pirate planet that acts as the main distribution and production facility for an entire criminal empire," Retz informed her. "You want Snarlbeak to bleed so bad? Hire a mercenary group that specializes in excessive destruction and violence."

"The best one we could get is halfway across the galaxy engaged in their own little war with the Covenant," Zix explained. "We're also not really on speaking terms with their leader, mainly because he's scary dangerous and as big a potential threat as any Covenant leader."

Retz knew who she was talking about. Admitedly bringing anyone like him and his fellow crazy murder apes in on this was a risk. If they found out about the damn relics, well, this would become an even more deadly treasure hunt than it already was.

"Besides," Zix continued. "You have something no other mercenary group has, a ticket in."

"What?" Retz asked confused.

"You stole from Zhoc already, remember?" Zix reminded him. "You took a ship full of his merchandise."

It only took about another second for Retz to realize what she meant.

"The baby chorka," he voiced aloud. "What are you saying?"

"From what we know, Snarlbeak chips his Chorka after capture or birth," Zix explained. "Helps him keep track of their ichor output, flavoring, aging, standard stuff for getting prime vintages and tastes. Your Chorka have the same chips in them. Don't worry, Zhoc can't track them. Not that kind of device, it only stores information for scans, it doesn't transmit."

A small comfort, but it didn't exactly ease Retz's nerves. He already knew where this was heading and he still didn't like it.

"Snarlbeak will have it on record that those Chorka were stolen, not to mention the transport they're on, he's not an idiot," he informed her. "If you think we can just fly up to his planet, announce we've recovered his stolen property without getting some seriously suspicious looks then this mission is dead on arrival and the Syndicate is seriously slipping."

"Well we're not," Zix informed him. "We can give you new codes to alter the registry of your transport and the serial numbers embedded in the Chorka's chips. It'll read as Zhoc's property, but as different products. They'll think you're an entirely different shipment. But it will only work with your Chorka and their chips. If we try to fake it with our own, the scanners will read them as foreign and incompatible with their systems. Your baby Chorka's chips are in the system, so it will recognize them and won't set off any alarm bells."

That was a better plan than he expected, but that didn't mean Retz was entirely convinced. It just meant that this was not as suicidal. Still pretty stupid and dumb to try though. That wasn't even factoring in the Syndicate element to all of this. There was another angle here Zix was concealing, that the Syndicate was hiding, he knew there was. She said it herself, he was out of the loop. They weren't telling him things anymore. They had good reason of course, but that didn't change the fact that they were predispoosed to lie to him. And Retz was very good at spotting lies.

"This still sounds like a fool's errand," he told her flatly.

"If you're worried about your baby Chorka, relax, you'll be able to recover them," Zix assured. "Along with a substantial portion of whatever plunder is down on that planet in the aftermath."

"It's more about how you're using us actually," Retz clarified. "The fact you're playing on multiple sensibilities. But we both know that there are other layers to this. Whatever the game is, I don't like being used as a piece in it."

"That is the nature of all business. Does it matter if everyone gets something they want?" Zix asked. "It is by the code, equal share and equal opportunity equals fair contract. Or have you forgotten that?"

"I haven't, but I don't trust you," Retz bluntly declared. "And if I was inclined to make the decision for everyone I'd say no to all of this right out and leave."

"But you're not," Zix reminded him coldly. "The stuff I've shared effects more than you. So here's what we both know is going to happen. You're going to go back to your people. You'll tell them what happened. And regardless of your grudge or bias, they will make the decision for you. Because even when you're not working for us, Retz, you're still under someone. You're still beholden to someone. And like it or not, you know, deep down, that this is your best bet at getting Snarlbeak off your back. At least long enough to get you that last relic. Every other option sees you flying directly into the gapping maws of a Razorfin with that Covie fleet surrounding your prize. So maybe stop posturing like you have a choice in any of this and go tell your naked monkey friends our offer."

If Zek were here, Zix would've been shot through the head at this moment, but he wasn't. Retz would've liked to do it himself. He would've liked to at least spit back at Zix and tell her she was wrong. That he had options, that he could tell her where to stick it. But he couldn't, even knowing how much this all stunk. He had to play this by ear, which meant going back and telling the others.

"I can't promise they'll agree," Retz informed her. "How long do we have to respond?"

"A while," Zix said noncommitingly. "When you come to a decision, just click this transponder and I'll know you've accepted the job. We can meet up for more specifics then."

She tossed him a small rectangular box, which Retz nimbly caught. It wasn't anything fancy, just your average sending transponder. He'd have to make sure there was no outbound tracking signal, but that was easy enough.

"I'll see to it you have your answer soon then," Retz replied, pocketing the device and gathering up data disks and holo-devices Zix had thrown out over the course of their conversation.

As he headed back out of the cave, putting his helmet back on he heard Zix call out.

"Welcome back to the family, Retz," she chided. "It was so nice seeing you again."

If there was any parting shot that could sting more it was the idea of being forced back into the Syndicate's service. Not at the prongs of a plasma gun, honey-worded promises or subtle manipulative coercion, but by lack of any real choice. That's what made this all so much worse. That he had so few options and, as a result, so did the rest of the fleet. He didn't like this and he knew no one else would either.

---

"Well this is just about the worst scenario to be stuck in ever," Haverson declared.

Retz couldn't argue on this one, Haverson had called it right on the money there. No one else at the briefing table seemed to be happy with the news either. They were intrigued though, willing to listen, which was better than usual. Probably because this mission had stakes for them as well.

"How sure are you about the Syndicate's claims, Retz?" Holland asked. "This fleet at the next relic site, the enslaved human colonists, the intel on the Covenant Invasion, does any of it sound plausible?"

"To an extent," Retz explained. "The enemy fleet guarding the relic is the most substantial, it makes sense given what happened on Reach. It's also the most easily verifiable. An advanced scout probe could let us know for sure. Snarlbeak is likely enslaving human colonists. After all, he brought up the subject during his parlay on New Teteocan as I heard. Didn't sound like a new idea of his. As for the intel on the Covenant Invasion force? If they have this much, it would be surprising if they didn't have a name for something."

"But?" Haverson asked, more than certain there was one.

He was right of course.

"But it's the Syndicate," Retz sighed. "Even if they are telling the truth, it's not the whole truth. They're hiding something from me. From us. Something they know would give us pause about going on this mission for them. Crippling Snarlbeak's operations won't deter him, it might make things harder for him, but I doubt they truly believe he'll give up. He'll drag himself to the finish line on this treasure hunt, crawl if he has to. We saw proof of that during his attack on the colony when he sacrificed his own ships just to get a few extra bodies on the ground."

Once again, everyone seemed in agreement for once. Nothing about Snarlbeak giving up because he lost a ton of capital rang true. It indeed might slow him down, even force him to deal with other matters first before he could continue the hunt, but he wouldn't surrender his ambitions. He wasn't that kind of a pirate, he was too possessed by his desire for revenge. And if everyone at this table knew that, so did the Queens who knew him way longer and had more information on him,

"So there is an ulterior motive here?" Shepard presumed. "What though?"

"Take your pick," Varvok declared. "We're talking about going to the heart of Snarlbeak's empire, basically destroying its infrastructure, sabotaging its various means of production and stealing whatever we can from them. All the while knocking out its defenses and destroying their local militia. It's standard procedure for a prelude to a regime change, namely the Syndicate moving in and taking over what's left. We discussed similar tactics in the Hegemony Black Ops program."

Shepard nodded in agreement with Varvok, rubbing his chin in thought as he did.

"The chaos would make them easy prey for the Syndicate to move in and take over," he concurred. "Forcing Snarlbeak to reprioritize concerning the hunt for the Astral Cutlass is just a nice bonus."

"Can we even be sure they would hold to their word?" Whitcomb asked. "That they'd allow us to take the relics? Even hold them? Why would these pirates let their chance at ultimate power slip away from them?"

"Because they already have that kind of power, the Astral Cutlass is redundant," Retz clarified. "That isn't to say I believe or trust them. I'm just telling you why it's not as big a concern. If we get the Cutlass, we'll likely use it against Snarlbeak or the Covenant. Not them. We're not a threat to them in their minds. Yet."

Haverson looked over at the hologram of various images filtered across the briefing table. He looked deep in thought, concerned about the various options before them. Retz didn't blame him at all for not jumping to either side of the aisle on this. It was a tempting offer and it involved vital information that the UNSC desperately needed. It was still intel that came at the behest of the Syndicate and it was good he did not trust it at face value. For once Retz could admire the man's skepticism.

"I don't like putting this much faith in the words of a bunch of criminals," he declared. "At the same time... we're talking about human lives here. Both enslaved by Snarlbeak and back on Earth."

"Is there a way to use the information we have on hand to help acquire the Relic and locate the Covies' Mobilization point?" Holland asked.

"I'm not sure, sir," Haverson confessed. "Given the time table we have, the scope of the enemy threat, I have no clear idea."

"If there are humans enslaved by Snarlbeak," Shepard spoke up. "If we can learn the name of where the Covenant are preparing their invasion and use it to find them, isn't that worth the risk? Even knowing that there may be an ulterior motive behind all of it?"

"No," Retz said bluntly.

Everyone at the table looked at him surprised, none more so than Zek.

"Seriously?" He asked. "Just straight up no on this whole thing?"

"The Syndicate is involved, I don't trust it, any of it," Retz declared. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't take the bait. We could find a way to sneak the relic out of there, find out the invasion fleet location from the Battlenet while we're at it. It will be harder, but we will not have the Syndicate's influence looming over us."

"But it will be harder," Holland observed. "And we might not get the relic or find the invasion fleet in time."

Retz put up his hands.

"You asked the question, I'm giving you my answer," Retz explained. "Either option, whether take or reject the job, we're facing steep odds. Risk now or risk later. I'm just speaking from personal experience you cannot trust the Syndicate."

"But we're talking about ripping Snarlbeak a new asshole here!" Zek insisted. "We could raid the biggest pirate lord in the galaxy, make off with a ton of his stuff and potentially rake a huge fucking profit from it all! I mean, the entry plan sounds solid right?"

"Everything AFTER the entry plan is iffy as hell," Retz reiterated. "We barely know what we're walking into down there. Even with whatever intel Zix has concerning the whole enterprise, we'd still be marching right into Snarlbeak's house. We'd be going after him directly on his own turf. And we not be able to bring a full army to bear, just whoever we can stuff inside the transport."

"The Normandy's stealth drive could potentially get our people down there," Shepard offered.

"That's still not a whole lot against an entire planet, Commander," Retz warned.

"So in your opinion we shouldn't go at all?" Varvok asked

Retz once again shrugged.

"It is your call, I am advising against it," he reiterated.

"And normally I'd be quick to do so myself," Haverson stated. "But we're talking about more lives than our own here. Humans taken captive, the invasion of Earth in a little more than a week, the Covenant about to get their hands on a relic that is potentially as dangerous as any of the others we've already seen in action. We can't just ignore all that out of hand."

Everyone appeared to be taking great pains to consider every angle, but not Zek. He had already made up his mind.

"I say we do it," he declared, slamming his open palm on the briefing table. "With the right people, the right teams and the right plan, we could totally pull this off. We get the Syndicate off our backs, we give Snarlbeak a black eye and we score some intel on this invasion fleet you're all so worried about. I see no downside."

"Except maybe the part of all us getting killed trying to pull it off," Varvok noted.

"One downside," Zek quickly corrected himself. "But how is that different from any other day?"

Holland sighed a bit, but he didn't seem entirely dismissive of Zek's words even as he did.

"As much as I hate to say it, we're taking a risk either way," he explained. "At least if we go in on this mission, we have a chance at making our real goals easier. What do you think, Admiral?"

Whitcomb bent over the table and interlaced his fingers as he eyed everything.

"The Covenant are gearing up to invade Earth," he said grimacing. "We may only have one shot at taking them down and a short time to do it. We sit here prattling on about how exactly we find the bastards so we can put an end to them and they'll slip through our fingers. Saving some of our people out here and making it easier to snatch that Relic, is just some added incentive at that point. If there is even a chance that the Syndicate can provide us a means to find the Invasion fleet... we need to take it."

Then it was settled then, they were doing the mission. After the grim reality of that set in, all eyes turned to Retz. He assumed this would be how it would go. But at least they didn't take it lightly. At least he warned them about the true risk. Only Zek still seemed to be excited, but Retz knew that was just his friend's nature. It would take a bit more convincing to properly get through to him how bad this was likely going to be. That the fun prospect of hurting Snarlbeak carried a high price with the Syndicate involved. It was out of Retz's hands now though. He whipped out the transponder and activated it.

"It's done," he said grimly. "We're in."

---

No one trusted a Syndicate agent aboard the Ascendant Justice, but Zix was insistent she present the full details of the operation and what they would need to do in person. Given what was at stake, Whitcomb decided to let her aboard, but Holland made sure there were Army Troopers waiting for her at the airlock. They escorted her to briefing room, after disarming her of course. They were also careful to make sure she didn't touch anything. The last thing they needed was her getting the chance to stick a virus or hack a system with her nimble little claws.

Perhaps the level of precaution was a bit extreme, but Retz agreed with it for once. He didn't trust Zix, she had always been conniving, sneaky and duplicitous. Normally those were good qualities in a kig-yar, admirable even. Not so with Zix, because she was never on your side. He learned that more than once the hard way.

So when she arrived at the briefing room, it took all his willpower not to pull out his own plasma pistol and train it on her head alongside the soldiers surrounding her. To her credit though, Zix was keeping her cool. No doubt confident they wouldn't do anything to her and potentially risk losing the valuable intel she held.

"Nice little place you've secured for yourself," she said, eyeing her surroundings eagerly. "I imagine it's a lot cleaner than that junker of a Corvette you've been flying around in forever."

"Hey, cool it with the shit-talking of my ship," Zek warned aloud. "The Fallen Serpent can kick plenty of ass when it needs to. Probably give your bloated fleet a run for it."

Zix didn't look impressed.

"Ah, the infamous son of Dreadfeather, Zek the Gutter Pickpocket playing Pirate Wannabe." she sardonically declared. "You are about as I expected... slightly less greasy maybe. Smell is about right though."

"Yeah, at least my musk is natural space pirate awesome," Zek boasted. "Not sneaky backstabbing jerkass stink."

Again, Zix was unimpressed by Zek's barbed comebacks. Her gaze naturally moved away from him and onto the other kig-yar in the room besides Zek, Taq. She had come down when she heard a Syndicate agent was coming aboard, wanting to look them in the eye directly. She was still sore about the attempt on her life. Being in Zix's presence was a reminder that Taq had survived the Syndicate. Not that Zix seemed t care too much.

"Taq, I presume?" She said cocking her head. "The reason Retz finally split from us in the flesh. How nice to finally meet you."

"Can't say the same," Taq replied. "You fuckers tried to kill me."

Zix shrugged.

"Just business, dear," Zix claimed. "It wasn't anything personal. We're both professionals here. I think we can put that behind us, can't we?"

"I'd prefer to stay facing you in any direction," Taq explained. "That way I'll have ample warning if you try anything."

"Your contract is already dismissed, ma'am," Zix promised. "This is about the Relics, about the Cutlass. Always was. We all agree that keeping them out of Snarlbeak's hands is in our collective interests."

"That doesn't mean we trust you," Holland declared. "Now if you may, can we get on with this?"

Zix huffed and approached the briefing table. Retz briefly considered at least introducing the others to her, but she hardly seemed interested in explaining herself too formally. She was more interested in fiddling with the display controls for the table in order to activate her holographic map of Snarlbeak's compound.

"As Retz might have told you, I am Zix," she began quickly. "I am one of the Syndicate's top agents and this is where we'll be headed."

The image of a massive compound installation activated across the table. It stretched for what looked like a great number of acres, a lot more square miles than most anyone anticipated. They could see a factory of some kind, as well as a docking area with warehouses, what looked to be a massive fortified pit in the center and a larger industrial building near the water. There were huge fields on the outskirts of what were no doubt drugs. There various smaller installations dotting the interior area, probably related to the harvesting of the fields. It was a massive operation, fitting of a pirate lord that has so firmly secured his business holdings.

"Snarlbeak has certainly built up quite the operation in seclusion," Holland observed.

"Indeed," Whitcomb agreed. "This certainly raises some concerns. Even if this is just a raid, we're need of some mission parameters. How do we maximize damage, what do we hit, where do we got, ecetera."

"We only need to concern ourselves with the major operations," Zix assured. "The smaller checkpoints and facilities are just obstacles we need to push through or avoid. For the drug fields and their production labs, burning them down and destroying the factory should be enough. The volatile chemicals used in their fabrication process makes that place a powder keg. Flamethrowers should be enough for the fields, once you destroy the automated watering system pumps located around the factory of course."

Zix highlighted said pumps on the map, better illuminating the potential strike points.

"The Marines and ODSTs could handle that," Whitcomb surmised. "What about that brewery though?"

"The more important target indeed," Zix confirmed. "A team will need to get inside and sabotage the distillery machinery. The process Snarlbeak uses to refine his ichor is complicated and involves many moving parts. If we start screwing with the process, we can basically rig the whole place to blow up on its own. Before that though we need to release the Chorka held there of course, they're kept in pens both inside and outside the structure. Snarlbeak can rebuild easily enough if his prized Chorka are still around. Swimming loose in oceans of this planet will make that impossible."

"And the human captives?" Haverson asked. "Where are they?"

Zix pointed up to the large fortified pit in the center of the facility.

"The slave holding grounds," she said grimly. "I don't know exactly where they keep the human colonists, but they are there. They spend their days either mining ore out of the ground or working in the fields and distillery. That's just for cheap labor though, the real money is of course selling them off. Given the potential value of the human stock he has, chances are Snarlbeak has them sequestered in the high security area at the back here."

She highlighted said area on the map for all to see. It had a lot of security towers, checkpoints and ton of red dots that everyone presumed were guards. Certainly not an easy place to break out of. They weren't doing that though, as Zix pointed out.

"It looks like a lot, but it's for keeping people inside, not out," she insisted. "The level of danger though makes this ideal for your Spartans. If they can cut a path through these security levels towards the inner sanctum, you can free your people with ease."

"But how do we get everyone inside away?" Shepard asked, looking at the map. "This docking section of the compound, how many ships does it have?"

"Enough smuggling ships to spirit the prisoners out safely," Zix explained. "And destroy the various storehouses that have stockpiled all the weapons and illicit contraband Snarlbeak has set to move out across his little pirate highways to clients across the galaxy. In one fell swoop, you save the many assorted slaves held captive, decimate Snarlbeak's inventory and commandeer every ship he uses to move the stuff. You hit every corner of his supply chain."

On paper it sounded good, but Shepard still had another concern.

"But how do we get out?" He asked. "We get that this is going to be a covert insertion, but extraction is another matter. We still have a small fleet and who knows what kind of ground defenses to deal with."

"The Ascendant Justice could handle most of the enemy ships in orbit," Whitcomb offered. "With assistance from the rest of our flotilla of course. But it would be dicey, even with the Gettysburg's MAC."

"Relax, we thought of this," Zix promised, focusing the map on a smaller facility with a large tower in the central area of the compound. "This is their command-and-control centre for Snarlbeak's ground based anti-ship/anti-air defense systems. If you can get inside, you can change their targeting parameters so that they fire on the fleet in orbit and ignore the escapees. You can extract your teams and be on your way as you watch Snarlbeak's entire world burn around you. Should be a pretty cathartic capstone to the day's events."

A good plan, Retz admitted. It covered a lot of angles and emphasized speed above all else. If all teams hit each area at the same time, there would be no way Zhoc's people could react to every incident. They'd be overwhelmed. The chaos would be useful in keeping the enemy off balance. However, there were a lot of moving parts to the scheme. Problems were bound to occur and the strike teams would have to adapt accordingly. They also did not know what their opposition exactly was.

"What are we dealing with down there exactly?" Retz asked Zix directly. "What are you leaving out?"

"It's mostly other kig-yar," Zix promised. "Outside some of the slaves being Unggoy or human, that's mainly what you'll encounter."

"And?" Retz pressed. "What else?"

Zix grimaced a bit at Retz's prodding.

"Well no sangheili," she swore. "Zhoc hates them, remember?"

"What. Else?" Retz pressed once more, firmer than last time.

Zix just huffed.

"Fine... there might be some Jiralhanae," she confessed. "Mainly around the slave pit. We're not sure how many."

That caused a bit of a stir among the leaders at the table.

"Snarlbeak is employing Brutes?" Shepard asked.

"That's a bit strange," Holland concurred. "Although it makes sense. If Snarlbeak hates the Elites so much they're the only other option for muscle."

"Who are they though?" Haverson questioned. "Ex-Covenant? Mercenaries?"

"We're not sure," Zix explained. "But again, they primarily patrol the slave pit. Snarlbeak uses them to keep the slaves in line, specifically the humans I think. Kig-yar don't exactly intimidate creatures who are taller than them that much."

Jiralhaenae were an unexpected wrinkle, although not a terrible one. The Spartans could handle them. Retz, however didn't completely buy Zix's explanation for why they were there or her claim she didn't know who they were. It made some sense they were brought in to keep the human slaves in line, those big ugly primates could certainly put make anyone think twice of starting an uprising or breakout. However, you didn't call on the Jiralhanae just to keep a bunch of poor sorry colonists in line. Either there were more humans than Zix was letting on or there was something else going on here.

He didn't press it though, Zix was already on guard no doubt for letting this much slip. He'd need to play his cards right to suss it out of her. As well as warn the UNSC, directly this time. Not something he'd usually do, but this was not a usual mission. The last thing they all needed was the Spartans getting blindsided in any case. They were going to need them for the final relic after all.

"We can handle the Brutes," the Master Chief assured the others. "And as long as we get Cortana into that command centre to switch the defenses to our side, we can get everyone out easily. But that still leaves the other three areas. Who's going where?"

"McKay and the ODSTs can handle the Drug Factory and fields," Whitcomb offered. "A secondary squad of Marines led by Sergeant Johnson can offer additional support. It might not sound like much, but it sounds like a textbook objective in the UNSC handbook."

"I can lead a team to-"

Shepard's offer was suddenly cut off by Zek.

"We'll take the Brewery!" He declared excitedly. "I can get a team together, we'll free the Chorka and blow the ichor taps sky high!"

Everyone gave the pirate an instant look of suspicion.

"How eager of you," Haverson voiced aloud. "I bet it has nothing to do with the fact it's the objective on the docket that involves alcoholic beverages as a key component. That's just a funny coincidence, isn't it?"

"Maybe so, but we know more about ichor and chorka than you do," Zek replied succinctly. "It just makes more sense for us to be the ones to handle that primary task."

"You still shouldn't go in alone," Haverson stated. "Last thing we need is you getting distracted by pilfering the biggest liquor cabinet in the middle of everything."

"We'll I'd be going with them there either way," Zix stated.

"That does not fill me with confidence," Haverson informed her.

Neither did it for Retz. Zix tagging along on the mission was likely always, but being stuck with her was the one thing he least looked forward to. He could keep an eye on her at least, but he'd have preferred to not have her on the mission at all. The fact she was coming told him that there was something at that distillery and Chorka Farm that she wanted. If she was going to be keeping them company, he might as well use it to figure out her true mission.

"That leaves us with the docks," Shepard spoke up, finishing his earlier thought. "I can have a team infiltrate and secure it. Then we'll move on to the Command Centre to flip the defenses to our side. I'll take who I can with me, but I want to offer some of my other teammates to the other objectives. We're all going to need as much help as we can get on all our individual tasks."

"They're your crew, Shepard," Holland told him. "Where do you think they'd work best?"

"Grunt has fought the Brutes before and any added muscle against them would be helpful," the Commander said strategizing as he spoke. "If the Spartans would have him, I'm sure he'd be happy to accompany them to liberate the slaves. As would Samara, she's dealt with these sorts of encampments before where we come from."

"They're more than welcome, sir," Master Chief agreed.

The Commander nodded at the Spartan before continuing.

"Zaeed would probably fit in best with the Marines and Drop Troopers," he offered. "Garrus would be a good choice too. They've both had their own dealings with drug smuggling and industrial environments, so this would be old hat for them."

"We'll clear it with Johnson and McKay first but I doubt they'll have objections," Whitcomb concurred.

"And I imagine Kasumi will want to tag along with Zek's team, infiltration is going to be key there," Shepard concluded.

"I'll bring a squad of my men down as well," Varvok offered. "We can assist Zek's team in taking the distillery and then see about breaking through their security barricades. If one of our teams finishes before the others, it would be helpful if we can link up with one another and assist."

"And keep their security forces even more disorganized," Haverson said, concurring with the plan. "It's not what I'd call a simple plan, but if everyone does their part we might be able to pull it off."

Assuming there were no surprises, which Retz doubted very much. Zix still very likely would blindside them with something that could get them all killed if he was not watchful of her. That would have to wait for when they actually got to the planet though. For now, all they could do was prepare.

---

AN: We're back! Yes, we're alive! Oh this took too long and I sincerel apologize for that, I have no real excuse this time beyond just being creatively spent. I'm doing some things to get my mojo back and do more writing in general, but for now I just want to get this out for you guys cause I know you've been waiting and the last thing I wanted was to take over a year to get an update out. So I'm sorry for taking so damn long. I'll leave a blog link for you all that will give you some additional content. Specifically resolving any questions you might want to ask me about a certain show. For now, please leave a review, and thank you for sticking with me. I honestly don't know if I deserve it, but I'm gonna keep trying to earn it from you all. Expect a new chapter in due time, that much I can promise.