* As he had always done, Jajab ran. His legs did not carry him as easily as they once had. Not three miles from Restraint's manor did he begin to feel exhaustion sink in, his small stubby legs as jelly. He could see Phantoms and their ilk patrolling High Charity's artificial skies above, enforcing the lock-down. A lock-down no doubt imposed to assist with the capture and murder of Restraint and his accomplices. Including him. [i]Oh, Restraint,[/i] Jajab wailed sadly, once again looking at the chilling message he'd been calmly sent by the High Councillor a few hours before. 'Assassin in the manor; guards neutralised. It is too late for me. Run.' Jajab hadn't needed to be told twice. He'd leapt out of the kitchen window, leaving behind the life he'd so comfortably lived. He hadn't even had time to save the damn Huragok. With luck the poor thing would be kept out of this. This was all that blasted Sorran's fault. He'd been to one who'd galvanised Restraint; made him start defying the Prophets, urged them to bring about the High Councillor's demise quicker than they once had. ... no, that wasn't true. The Prophets had always wanted Restraint dead, and had always tried. It would seem they'd finally succeeded, barring some eleventh hour intervention from the Forerunners. How they'd lowered the barriers around the manor escaped Jajab. Such a feat could only be done from inside. Perhaps one of the guards had turned traitor-- The answer was obvious. [i]Pel.[/i] It had to be; Jajab hadn't trusted him from the moment he'd first laid eyes upon him. His doubts seemed to have held true. It wouldn't be long before the assassin discovered he wasn't in the manor. Then they'd come after him in full force. What could he, a lone Unggoy well past his prime do? A thought struck him. [i]Convalescence.[/i] The High Councillor had spoken with his former-physician the other day, at considerable length. When Jajab had asked about him, he'd been told very firmly by Restraint that Convalescence was one all their lives could be trusted with. It seemed that trust would soon be tested. Jajab knew where the minister was staying; he'd overheard the High Councillor telling an honour guard to accompany the elderly physician back there. If Convalescence was the man Restraint claimed him to be, then surely he would take in Jajab. Shelter him until Hem and Sorran returned from Sanghelios, and then they could work out a plan... [i]if[/i] they returned from Sanghelios. No, of course they would. Hem always returned, and always knew what to do. * "High Councillor!" Sorran breathed with relief as he saw a small figure huddled in blankets at the end of the room. On a table flickered three candles, throwing the room into an ephemeral glow. From speakers behind the chair Restraint was sat in, gentle music softly played. Restraint did not answer his call. Sorran tentatively walked closer, and with a grief-stricken cry discovered why. Lacing its way across the San 'Shyuum's wiry neck was a thin red line, almost like cotton thread. Flesh turned away from it, leaving a neat gash which had spilt blood onto the blankets and floor. It was dry, but caught the light of the candles. Sorran could dimly see a blurry reflection of himself in the gleaming crimson liquid. "Oh, Restraint," Sorran moaned softly, knowing even before he took the cold, stiff hand of the High Councillor that the man was dead. Eyes once so full of intelligence and character stared deadly at a potted planet by the wall. Sorran affectionately reached up to them, his fingers brushing the eyelids down over those empty holes. As his hand reached inside the blankets to move them away, he found they were still sodden with the wet of blood. His hand recoiled instantly, stained with the blood of a dear friend and mentor. The sight of Restraint's life dripping down his hand finally broke Sorran down, and he found himself crashing to his knees and taking the High Councillor's hand. "I'm sorry," he told the dead San 'Shyuum, tears dropping to the ground. "I was supposed to be your protector. I should have been--" His apology was cut off as something slipped out of Restraint's frail hand, dropping onto the floor. It fell through candlelight, before crashing down onto the carpet and sitting immobile. Sorran slowly reached down and picked the small object up; it was a tiny crystal, no larger than his eye, and inside shone a complex matrix of circuitry and flowing data. Almost as soon as he picked it up, it reacted to his touch. A sharp jab pricked his hand ever so slightly, drawing the tiniest prick of blood; the crystal seemed to absorb a drop. "Bio-print confirmed," the crystal suddenly spoke, almost prompting Sorran to drop it. Finally, he realised what he was holding; a bio-crystal. They had the capacity to hold data, and could be keyed not to reveal said data unless they came into contact with a very specific biological signature. "Sorran," it continued, and this type Sorran recognised the familiar tones of Restraint; strained by his illness, but undoubtedly him. "My time draws to an end. If you're listening to this, then you probably found the bio-crystal on my person. I'm glad it's you and not Hem. No doubt revenge against the Covenant is on his mind right now; his judgement is clouded. Whatever happens, you can't allow Hem to reveal what we know to the Covenant; we're not ready. He knows it, but won't accept it." Suddenly a torrent of images flooded Sorran's mind, and he realised the crystal was feeding him information; hypothetical situations which could arise from the truth being prematurely revealed to the Covenant. All included war of some sort, and mass death. The very collapse of the Covenant itself. "It's likely that whoever will kill me has also been tasked with destroying any evidence I've collected over the years. Fortunately, I had the foresight to digitise it all; everything I know is stored within that crystal you hold, Sorran. Not just truth on the Great Journey, but more; things I have not told even Hem. It's uniquely keyed to your biometric pattern, no other can access it." [i]Why me?[/i] Sorran wondered, looking inquisitively at the body of Restraint. Staring closely at his face, he could swear a smile small graced the body's lips, as if he'd died smirking. "You're probably wondering why you, and not Hem. Indeed, if Hem had picked up this crystal I would have requested he pass it on to you. It all ties in to the reason I rescued you from execution and made you one of my guard, Sorran. Yes, you're loyal, brave, intelligent, open-minded but most crucially, you're a scholar. You can piece the pieces inside that crystal together, and you'll create a bank of information that will one day be vital in saving everything we know. It's a heavy burden, I know. But there is no other the task can fall to... I can hear the assassin approaching, Sorran. It is time for me to draw my final breath. It is not defeat I face, but victory over my own failing body. I will die proudly, and free of pain. I'm proud of you, my son. Now run, away from High Charity. Then wait for the moment to reveal all. You will know it when it comes. Farewell." The blue light within the crystal faded, and it reverted back to its original translucent appearance. Sorran held it up speculatively to the candle light, admiring the complex technological wizardry contained within. He wondered how exactly he'd interface with such a seemingly lifeless thing. [i]I'll do you proud, High Councillor,[/i] Sorran vowed, standing up. He turned then to face Restraint, and this time fully drew back his blankets, wondering what to do with the body. To bring it with them would be impractical... but he couldn't just leave him here, huddled in a chair and lying in his own dried blood.