Custody

The jail and former police headquarters of the Frontier Colonial Authority was located towards the centre of Deckar's Stand, not far from the town hall. It was a mostly square building, constructed from concrete blocks and prefabricated metal frames, one of the earlier structures put together in the colony that was not pre-planned prior to settlement. The police headquarters had been built in the earliest days of Deckar's Stand, when the town itself had finally started to expand beyond its humble beginnings. And, as one would expect, the Authority had claimed what had been intended as a fairly ordinary municipal building and turned it into something a bit more elaborate. Where the estate had been the centre of government, the police headquarters had served as the centre for law and order. Under Carson's reign, the building served a similar purpose, but had had several more cells added into it to support a larger criminal population.

Carson's attitudes towards criminals was a straightforward one. Those who committed the serious crimes of murder, rape, arson and so forth were usually executed by firing squad, lined up against a wall in the courtyard of the jail and shot to death. Lesser crimes resulted in people locked up in the dingy cells within the building where they were often subjected to beatings and other forms of torture and humiliation, before being let back out on the streets, usually with damaged minds on top of their damaged bodies. These harsh penalties kept crime on the streets of Deckar's Stand at manageable levels, and violent criminals were often dealt with on the spot regardless.

Today, the hulking police headquarters building was seeing some more activity than usual. A handful of new prisoners were brought in and assigned to cells within the building's basement levels. Covenant prisoners mostly, and Leah herself was brought into the dingy concrete building through a rear entrance, so not only was she passed through the courtyard but she got to see some of these Covenant prisoners first-hand. Two Kig-Yar soldiers had been herded up against a wall on the stone-paved courtyard, and a human man in a brown and grey officer's uniform promptly shot both of these aliens in the back of the head, splattering purple blood and brain matter across an already blood-stained wall before them. He did it without even batting an eye, the general attitude towards aliens apparent within the walls of the jail.

Leah had both her hands chained behind her, with manacles wrapped around her ankles as well. The guards seemed to be well aware as to what kind of person she was, and as such she had four of them escorting her along, two at either side while another two walked behind her, weapons pointed at her back. She had already tried busting her chains, but they were strong, much more so than she had been expecting. Carson's soldiers were not taking any chances with her, much to their credit.

The journey to the jail had been uneventful. Leah had come to in the back of an armoured vehicle, finding herself already bound. The stun grenade and the beating that had followed had been enough to knock her out for a few minutes, and this had been more than enough for the soldiers to secure her. There was little more she could do, as much as it pained her to admit, and she found herself being dragged along through the courtyard and into the cell-block itself. It ran underneath much of the imposing concrete building, and the smell down here was a mix of sewerage and general human misery. Not only human, she saw, as she passed a cell occupied by a trio of Grunts and another housing an unhappy looking Kig-Yar who rattled the bars on the door with his clawed hands, a fruitless endeavour and one that only gave the guards more of an excuse to beat him. Further down, into the increasingly wet and dingy confines, were some human prisoners. Miserable and dirty, some were seated, others napping on their bunks, while a few hollered at her and the soldiers as they went on by.

The air down here was cold, and the sounds of dripping water could be heard echoing down the halls, old pipes leaking from the ceilings and walls. Leah was stopped in front of an empty cell, one that was located on the left of one occupied by a beaten looking Sangheili in a partial set of armour and a desert-coloured duster that he wore over it. He sat quietly on his bunk, his emerald green eyes going over to Leah as she was herded into the cell. Between the two cells was a brick wall, with a gap towards the ceiling that had several metal bars set down its length.

The guards shoved her into the cell before they promptly closed the door behind her, locking it before she could so much as turn to face them. They were quick about it, efficient even, taking no chances where the Spartan was concerned. With this done, the four soldiers turned and left, visibly relaxed now that the potentially dangerous prisoner was secure. Now all Leah had to do was wait, as she was sure Colonel Carson himself would make an appearance. He would be told about her capture, and about her Spartan nature, and he would no doubt want to interrogate her himself.

That left Leah with little else to do but bide her time. She could only hope that Accord had got away, and so far this seemed to be the case, as he was yet to be brought into the prison. Either that, or he could be dead, a thought that she did not dwell on for too long. She had not come this far just to have the reason she turned against ONI get unceremoniously killed. Still, she had her doubts, as the Forerunner would be on his own, and being someone over one-hundred thousand years out of his time, it seemed likely he would not have a clue as to how to handle himself in human society.

"You are not like the others." A guttural, masculine voice sounded from nearby. Leah looked to her left, and realised that it was the Sangheili in the cell next door who had spoken. "You are something else. I can see that much."

"What am I, then?" Leah stepped onto the metal bunk at the wall near her, putting herself high enough to peer through the gap near the ceiling and into the next cell. The Sangheili was seated on his own bunk below, his head down. She noticed that dark purple stains marred his armour and duster, and it seemed likely that the Sangheili had been seriously injured. Judging from the slightly strained edge he carried in his voice, it was apparent that he was yet to receive actual medical attention for his wounds.

"A demon." The Sangheili stated as much in a blunt tone. He did not sound too worried about her being a 'demon', not like some of the other Sangheili Leah had run into in the past. Some were positively terrified of her, seeing her and other Spartans as unnatural, unholy warriors. This Sangheili, on the other hand, spoke it like the simple fact it was. "Why would the humans imprison one of their most powerful warriors?"

"Because not all humans are on the same side," Leah replied. Saying this, the Sangheili turned his head and looked up at her. His eyes seemed weary, resigned even, as if he had simply given up on the world. It was probably the kind of look anyone would develop when spending time in a prison cell.

"I gathered as much." The Sangheili rose to his feet, somewhat shakily. He turned around to face the gap fully, their eyes meeting. "It still begs the question, why a demon would be brought here, to be imprisoned."

"It's complicated."

"It always is."

"Are you with the Covenant?" Leah asked this more on impulse than for any genuine desire to know. Still, she had to make sure where she stood with this Sangheili, and whether or not he was a potential foe.

"The Covenant?" The Sangheili slowly shook his long, saurian head. "No. Not since the war ended. I have fought what remains of them since, and that is what brought me here, to this world."

"So, you're with the Arbiter?"

The Sangheili let out a huff when she said the name.

"Not exactly." He paused for a moment, giving it some thought. "My name is Davam 'Ktham. I came here to seek revenge against one who had wronged me. Instead, I have been locked up here, and by chance I have a human demon occupying the cell next to my own."

"I'm Leah." She might have shaken hands with the Sangheili, had she been able to reach down enough to do so. "You don't strike me as the typical Sangheili. Most of your people aren't fond of us Spartans."

"Why would they be?" Davam sounded tired, and this came across in his overall demeanour. "You killed many of us during the war. I suppose it is only reasonable, given how many humans my people slaughtered in the name of the Prophets and their lies." His tone developed a more incisive edge then, but the moment was fleeting, and it faded almost as quickly as it had come. "I have other worries now, Spartan Leah."

"Like revenge?" Leah could only wonder just who this Sangheili wanted vengeance against.

"Indeed."

"Is that all?"

Davam shifted where he stood, looking down for a moment as if somewhat more painful memories struck him then. He walked over to the front of his cell and looked out into the corridor, quiet as it was, only for that quietness to be broken by the sound of a prisoner yelling from some distant cell. Leah could not make out all of what was being said, but much of it was not friendly.

"I had another with me." Davam spoke slowly, as if he was not sure whether he should be telling her this or not. "I brought him along thinking I could make him a proper warrior, and instead I took him to his death." He turned away from the front of his cell, and with a sudden movement that Leah had difficulty keeping track of, he clenched his right hand into a fist and punched the wall in front of him. She heard the dull thump from her side of it, and the Sangheili took a step back, cradling his right hand for a moment. Blood was on his knuckles, and she wondered if he had broken any bones. Unlikely, given just how durable Sangheili bones were. Whatever was on his mind, it was provoking a typically Sangheili reaction.

"Perhaps fate has brought us together," Davam said. He looked up at her through the gap, his eyes lighting up slightly. "Or perhaps we are both doomed to suffer here, for however many days we have left to live."

"You're full of positivity, aren't you?" Leah narrowed her eyes as she said this. The Sangheili did not seem to notice her sarcasm, and instead sat back down on his bunk. He appeared withdrawn, and she could see that the death of the other one he had brought to Thrace was weighing heavily upon him. She could only assume that they had been a close friend, or perhaps even a relative.

"You humans are too quick to be optimistic," Davam said, as he sat back down. "There is a difference, between being optimistic and realistic. Too many times you lie to yourselves, you tell yourselves that things will be better, that all will turn out in your favour, yet more often than not it is the direct opposite. We Sangheili take a more measured approach, and we know better than to lie to ourselves about the nature of our situation. As for me, I am locked up in a filthy human dungeon and so far I have been threatened with torture and execution."

"You have no rights here," Leah stated. This was true enough, as Sangheili would not have any sort of protection under the law on a non-UNSC human world. Ever since the war had ended, there had been certain laws drawn up to protect any alien species who travelled into the UNSC, but as for Thrace, the people here could essentially do what they wanted to the likes of Davam. "I have a friend I was helping, and I made it my mission to protect him. I can only hope he got away, since I haven't seen him around here."

"Perhaps he is dead?"

"The thought did cross my mind." Leah leaned slightly against the wall. Her head still ached slightly from having a stun grenade go off in her face. Davam certainly spoke his mind, a trait that was fairly refreshing after having worked with numerous ONI operatives in recent weeks. "But I think he's still out there. Probably lost and confused, but I think he's alive. Call it a feeling." She paused for a moment, realising the oddness of her situation. It was not often she had thought that she would ever have a routine conversation with a Sangheili; then again, she had never considered turning against ONI before the last twenty-four hours. Now, just about every aspect of her life had turned upside-down, and having a pleasant conversation with an imprisoned Sangheili was perhaps the most normal thing that had happened to her since she had made her decision to help Accord.

"I need to get out of here," she said.

Davam looked up at her. He did not appear impressed, and he simply lay down on the bunk, as if he were readying to go to sleep.

"There is no escape from here," he said simply. "The only escape I have seen thus far, Spartan Leah, is that of death. And if that enables me to see my son again, then it is a fate I can be content with." Saying this, he closed his eyes, and began to doze. Leah looked down at him through the gap, surprised at the Sangheili's sheer resignation to his circumstances. She had always thought that his kind were more determined than that, and if he had indeed lost a child then surely that would only drive him harder?

Leaving him to rest, Leah stepped off of the bunk and sat down upon it. From a quick look about the cell, there appeared to be no readily noticeable means of escape. No window, barred or otherwise, and the cell door was firmly secured with both an old-fashioned keyhole lock and a keypad. The people who had built this jail had ensured to have the best of both worlds in place for that extra layer of security. Why have one lock, when you could have two?

For now, it seemed Leah could only wait for an opportunity. She could only hope that opportunity came sooner, rather than later.

It took some doing, but Accord-of-Perpetual-Resilience did finally find his way out of Deckar's Stand and back to the old, abandoned garage that had served as the group's safe haven for the last twelve hours or so. He had commandeered a rickety old land vehicle, one he had found parked near some kind of warehouse on the edge of town while a pair of human workers had been unloading boxes from its rear. While they had done that, Accord had climbed into the driver's seat, acquainting himself with the layout of the controls all the while he thought back to when Leah had been driving the Warthog the day before. It was a fairly straightforward set up, even if he did forget to disengage the handbrake before hitting the accelerator. The way the van had jerked forwards got the attention of the two human workers, but by that point Accord had rectified his mistake and sent the vehicle racing forwards, all the while his hands worked the steering wheel frantically as he made sure to avoid civilians on the streets and any other obstacles that might have been in his path.

His memory was better than most humans, and he was able to find his way back to the garage fairly easily. It became easier once he was out of town, as there were only a few main roads going across the desert, and picking the right one had been simple enough from what he could remember of his trip into town. No one pursued him now, and he was able to get back to the hideout after a fairly uneventful drive. When he finally returned, he parked the van around the back and climbed out. From there, he jumped the fence into the yard at the rear and barged in through the back door, only to be immediately greeted by Jak'Talva. The Skirmisher was unarmed, and he seemed surprised to see the Forerunner alone, as his gaze went to the empty space behind Accord and a bemused look crossed his avian features.

"Where's Leah?" He asked.

Accord slammed the door shut behind him. Dirtied as he was, his chest armour dented in a few places, he narrowed his eyes towards the Skirmisher. He did not think too highly of this bird-like alien, regardless of how helpful Leah might have seen him to be.

"She's been captured," Accord said. The pair stood in the dusty backroom, illuminated under what little sunlight streamed in through the mostly boarded-up windows near the ceiling over the door. "The local government forces attacked the safehouse."

"Carson's people?" Jak'Talva raised his brow. "How curious. They must have caught on to ONI's presence in the town…" He trailed off, as a thought occurred to him. "Did you get the codes?"

"Yes." Accord spoke slowly, as he realised what the Skirmisher was getting at. He shot the bird a harsh glare and stepped forwards, towering over the alien by a significant height and width. "But we are not going anywhere, other than to save Leah. It is my duty to do so."

"I never said we would abandon her," Jak'Talva said. He spoke quickly, his tone becoming somewhat defensive. "I mean, I would never even consider it. Nope, not at all. We're all in this together." He was lying now, almost blatantly so, and Accord resisted the urge to flat-out punch him. Instead, he put one large six-fingered hand to the Skirmisher's shoulder, ensuring that his grip was tight but not hard enough to be outright threatening.

"You're going to help me find her," Accord said. He made sure to speak as if it were a foregone conclusion, so that there would be little room for the Skirmisher to protest. "You know this planet well, do you not?"

"I know it like the feathers on my arms," Jak'Talva replied. He sounded a little anxious, as if having the Forerunner towering over him might have been taking something away from his usually confident demeanour.

Accord might have smiled then, had he thought the gesture was necessary. Still, he certainly took some satisfaction in the way the Skirmisher squirmed under his grip.

"I will need help to find my way in the town. And I will need your assistance to help me find the colonial administration jail complex. Do you know the place?"

Jak'Talva nodded his head.

"Yes, yes I do. It's hard to miss."

"Very good. You will also help me to acquire the weapons and equipment I need to liberate Leah from that very location. That is something you can do, is it not?"

Again, Jak'Talva nodded his head. He did not seem so keen on protesting now, when he had the big Warrior-Servant right in front of him with a hand to one shoulder and an intense look in his pale blue eyes.

"And you will also help me in the liberation itself," Accord continued. "I may be a Forerunner Warrior-Servant, but even I know when I may be outmatched. Would you be willing to provide your services in the liberation itself?"

Jak'Talva, once again, nodded in agreement.

"Yes, yes, certainly."

"Very good. Take whatever you need from here, for we depart as soon as possible." Accord took his hand away from the Skirmisher's shoulder, satisfied that he had 'convinced' the alien to help him. Jak'Talva turned and left the room slowly, as if stunned that he had so easily agreed to everything. He came back a minute later with the metal crate full of MREs, and he gave a light shrug of the shoulders as he noticed Accord's curious look at it.

"A Kig-Yar's got to eat," Jak'Talva said. He went to the door, and pushed it open with one hand. "As for your weapons and equipment, big guy, I know where we can find what we need, and it's right in town. I can't promise much, but someone like you seems resourceful. You'll probably be able to do a lot with a little."

"I am glad that you have so readily agreed to help me," Accord said. He followed Jak'Talva outside into the heat of the desert. The Skirmisher glanced back at him with what could only be considered a mixed expression, as if he knew he had been intimidated but was too prideful to admit it out loud, or even to himself for that matter. "Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jak'Talva stopped at the rear fence. Here, he put the box of MREs upon one shoulder before he grabbed onto the fence with his free-hand and began to hoist himself up and over it.

"Arms smugglers would get the death penalty within the Forerunner ecumene," Accord stated.

"Really? Because they usually get the death penalty here too." Jak'Talva scaled the fence quickly, his Skirmisher agility on display, enough so that even Accord was slightly impressed. "It's just that Colonel Carson and I had an arrangement. It might even still stand, but I haven't checked in with him for a while and it's likely he'd have me killed for getting myself caught. Wouldn't want anything dirty to be traced back to him." Landing on the other side of the fence, Jak'Talva looked about for the Warthog and instead found himself looking at the old and rickety van that Accord had brought here.

"That's the best you could do?" He gestured to the van. "For a Forerunner, you certainly lack taste in transportation."

Accord made his way over the fence, walking around to a section he had pushed down earlier which he easily stepped through before joining the Skirmisher on the other side.

"I was in a hurry," Accord finally replied.

"A hurry?" Jak'Talva started for the van. "I guess it will have to do." There was a brief silence between the two, as they walked over to the van. Jak'Talva pulled open one of the rear doors and threw his crate of MREs inside. "You know, if I was not mistaken, I would say that you and Leah have a little thing going."

This suggestion caught Accord off-guard, if only for a moment. Jak'Talva turned to look back at him, offering the Forerunner a toothy smile.

"I mean, the way you seem so determined to rescue her. You two only just met, right?"

"She helped me when I needed it. It is only right I return the favour."

"That's very noble of you," Jak'Talva commented, even if he did not sound entirely convinced. "Still, some might interpret it as something more. I mean, do you Forerunners…" He trailed off, before his eyes flitted down to Accord's crotch before going back up to his face. "Do you…you know?"

"You know what?" Accord was not entirely sure what the alien was referring to, given just how vague he had suddenly become.

"You know." He gave a light thrusting motion with his hips. A sure-fire indication of what he was talking about. Accord suddenly understood perfectly, and with one hand he shoved the Skirmisher into the back of the van. Ignoring his protesting squawk, the Forerunner slammed the rear doors shut on him and made his way around to the driver's position.

He could hardly believe the way things had gone. He intended on returning his debt to Leah, and yet here he was having to put up with unusually crude behaviour from an irritating bird-like alien. The sooner he was off of this planet, the better it would likely be for his mental state of mind.